ink: landscape confession

Seascape. 12 x 12 Monotype. Ink on BFK Rives paper

Sometimes it's better to keep my mouth shut.

When I was in my first art class, and had successfully completed the learning pieces on how to handle various media, my teacher asked me what I would like to paint on my own. Landscape? she suggested.

I made a face and insisted that I was not interested in painting landscape. Landscape bored me to tears. I would rather clean the shower than look at a landscape painting... On and on I went. I probably went on longer because my teacher's laughter kind of encouraged me.

I painted flowers. I painted people. I painted fruit.

But, I kept thinking about landscape. And I started to look at landscape paintings by the some of the greats. The more I looked, the more I liked what I saw. Maynard Dixon gave me shivers. Albert Bierstadt wowed me and made me laugh (how audaciously he manipulated the landscapes in his paintings to please himself!). Wayne Thiebaud thrilled me with the Sacramento River delta scenes.

About the same time, my husband and I started to travel. For two months or more at a time, we drove to get out of the Northwest winters and find some sunshine. And, because I love it, we often made our way to the coast. I had plenty of opportunities to study the landscape. And I did.


I love the space where the land meets the sea. I love the smell of the briny air. I love the sound of the water pulling and pushing at the beach and the whisper of the wind in the oatgrass. I love the way the light reflects on the shifting water and hints at the mysteries below the surface.

Before I realized what happened, I was painting landscapes. And loving it.

I should have kept my mouth shut in the first place. But, maybe, by opening my mouth and ranting a bit about landscape paintings (and how much I despised them), I created a space for myself to explore it. Between the rant and the question mark behind the work "why?" I found landscape and fell in love.

"This Land is Your Land" Woody and Arlo Guthrie, and others.

this land

Yosemite Falls, 16 x 20, pastel on BFK

I cannot resist a national park when I travel. A month in California afforded me the chance to see three: Joshua Tree National Park, Pinnacles National Park,  Channel Islands National Park, and Yosemite National Park.

I will never forget my first trip to Yosemite. I was eight years old and we went on a family summer vacation there. 

My grandmother was with us and that filled our stations wagon with: four kids, three adults, luggage, ice chests, pillows, and all manner of toys and books and other stuff for the four hour drive.

To help pass the time, my grandmother started to sing songs. Mom knew the songs and the two of them sang in a magical kind of harmony that captivated all of us kids. I begged them to sing the songs again and again so that I could learn their words and melodies and harmonies.

This week, Pete Seeger died and the media is filled with many tributes about the man and his music. Much of what I hear are the songs my grandmother and mother sang in the car on our way up to Yosemite. Maybe your family sang these songs on your car rides when you were a kid, too. "If I Had a Hammer," "Where Have All the Flowers Gone," "Swanee River," "On Top of Old Smokey," and one of my favorites, "This Land is Your Land."

Rest in peace, Pete Seeger. Thank you for your great love of our country and the people who live in it and for your legacy of music. Your message of peace and beauty will live on.

Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie "This Land is Your Land."