Baby Bird

A baby Red-wing Blackbird
June 14, 2014

This guy was  a brand new flier. He still had his pin feathers. Every few minutes he'd call and Momma or Poppa Blackbird would bring him a tasty bug to eat. The colored drawing was done later.

a few more birds: a distant swan, catbirds, a big grackle and the silhouette of a soaring Great Blue Heron.

Ducks

detail

Three mallards
9-18-13

low water + rocks = ducks
9-10-13

ducks in the rain 1
9-13-13

ducks in the rain 2
9-13-13

Drawing Exhibition

OBSERVATIONS  Drawing Show

July 6 - 31, 2012

Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary, South Natick, MA

vernissage: Sunday, July 8, 2 - 4 p.m.

I'll have about 25 drawings on exhibit and for sale. Stop by if you're in the area. Broadmoor is a beautiful nature sanctuary with many trails and things to see.

The Nest

a small bird's nest in a maple tree near Lake Waban
12-15-11
colored pencil

This is the time of year, where I live, that bird's nests become visible. The leaves are off the trees and each Autumn rain and clarifying Winter cold spell serve to make the branches more stark. Additions like nests become visible and can be seen high and low, casual and definite.
It is remarkable how sturdy they are. In this case, grasses and mud are the primary materials. It is snugged down into the fork of a small maple tree. The rains will slowly wash it away but fragments may remain on into next spring.

I think the hanging gauzy nests of the Northern Oriole are the most impressive. The nest is a kind of sac that hangs pendulum-like. It is merely "woven" from stems and blades of grass and is about eight inches long, maybe longer. The babies fledge in July I guess, and the nest is abandoned having served its purpose. But there it may swing and twist through the winter gales and ice storms of February. This is another promise of Orioles and Summer warmth to return.

Empty Nest

I'd had a bad day. A couple of family arguments had left a sour taste so, to clear my head, I walked over to the park to see if the robin was still on its nest. It was after dinner sometime and the sun was starting to set.

I was disappointed to discover Saturday evening that the nest was empty. I sketched it anyway in conté pencil which I later touched up with watercolor. Two days before, I had stumbled across it and was fortunate to have my sketchbook with me.

conté, colored pencil and wax crayon
Friday, May 19, 2011

a quick sketch in the rain.
Monday, May 23, 2011

It was raining again this morning but I made a detour to see if the robin was back on the nest. Sure enough! Quiet as can be, she just sat there with just her head poking up.
Imagine sitting for hours and hours with a few short breaks for a snack and maybe a little socializing. Then, back to work!

I'll be back tomorrow.

Relaxed Ducks

These mellow September days! A shower here and there. Leaves falling and suddenly the park is bursting with activity. All the ducks are grown and feeding and preening and very busy. It must be caused by the diminishing length of the days. But the light of September and October is so precious and crystalline (when it's not obscured by torrents of rain or fog).

I drew this view of the bridge yesterday morning. I like trying to suggest the different states of the water: flowing and still, home to ducks and geese and tiny fish.

The ducks were quite busy feeding and paddling up the current. Then they would drift down sideways and across the current and start over again. They all look so relaxed! Natick: home to relaxed ducks! You heard it here first!

Bonne journée!

Observations

There is still one family of ducks that has stayed near the island below the dam. I guess it's reasonable to assume that the small island offers enough protection from predators (Which: turtles? large fish?). The proof is in the pudding: this mother and her brood of nine ducklings continue to explore and dabble in the pools and riffles of the river. A few weeks ago I studied a family with a dozen young but I haven't seen them since they went downstream below the arched bridge.

This group surprised me actually. I had become engrossed in drawing a heron and was alone with my thoughts when the duck family splashed into view. If you just sit still for a while and mind your business, you never know what you might be privileged to see.

The heron was graceful and comical. Without any regard for me, it gingerly stalked from rock to rock, at times carefully feeling the bottom of the riverbed. It positioned itself before a little "chute" of moving water and was soon eying the flow for fishy morsels. In quick succession, two small fish were caught and swallowed whole. These, of course quickly followed by a drink of water to wash it down (I wonder how long the fish live as they slide down that long heron throat… at times like this I'm glad I'm not a fish!). Eventually, he caught a larger fish and I observed the eating process again. I'll spare you the details but it does seem more difficult than actually catching the fish!

Here's a larger view of my heron sketch.

Low water

It's late-July and the water is very low in the Charles River. Here's a drawing in purple colored pencil that I made late last week. Near the rocks in the upper right at the face of the dam is a family of ducks: a mother and nine ducklings.

I sketched these very rapidly with ball point pen. The ducklings are in constant movement dabbling in the gentle swirling water. The mother is vigilant but relaxed.

We had a bit of rain yesterday but it has been rather dry this summer so it should be safe to raise a family of ducks at this small dam. There has been another duck family settling in; they have a dozen babies!

That's all for now

Rhode Island ducks

sketches of boats (and more) at Beavertail State Park overlooking Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island

Last weekend, my wife and I visited a couple of Connecticut galleries that are showing my work. On the way home, we detoured through Rhode Island and enjoyed a hot breezy afternoon overlooking Narragansett Bay. We could see Newport in the distance and by sunset, we were wandering along the famous Cliff Walk, ogling the mansions and imagining the gilded age they symbolize. Most seemed deserted for the weekend although there was a softball game happening at one of the estates that was in our price range. Perhaps the other owners were looking for cooler weather like us. Ironically, next to one of the larger mansions was smaller house in some disrepair. The grass was un-mowed and various objects were casually strewn about the back yard. Several people relaxed in lawn chairs and drank beer while the bbq grill emitted lazy tendrils of charcoal smoke. A man relieved himself in the bushes; the party must have been going on for a while.

The spelling is incorrrect: It should be "Narragansett"

I love drawing animals but always feel inept. I think I made a reasonable sketch of this fellow. His eyes were better than mine and soon, he'd plucked a crab from the waves and seaweed. The crab wasn't too happy about it and made several successful escapes. The gull kept at it and soon landed him. How'd you like to eat things that were in the habit of pinching your face?!

Speaking of birds and water, I can't end this post without following up on the ducklings I drew a few weeks ago near my house.

July 4, 2010

July 17, 2010

All twelve are still safe and growing. I resisted giving them names but I was reminded of one of my favorite children's books.

Have a wonderful summer.

Geese

Not much more to say except that geese are beautiful.

Art Criticism

Another view of the dam this morning. I sat right up close so the rushing water drowned out any other sounds. After a while, this flotilla of geese camped out on the top and had a busy little salon al fresco.

I drew this in green Prismacolor in my sketchbook. The paper is soft and shows the impressed lines from the previous pages:

So, I offer you this: a useless job of figuring out the connection between my doodles and an observation of the water and the geese. Art critics and historians do this all the time and assume they've had the final word. It's infuriating. If there is a connection, it should be obvious. If it's not obvious, then it's obvious that someone is riding on the back of the person who took the initial risk of actually making the art.
Ooooh! Ouch! Take that you art-challenged critics/historians/reviewers! Put down your pens and pick up a paintbrush!

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The end of Philosophy

Philosophy 101: It's obvious that…

from this, you get this…

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The Heron

The old Pleasant St. bridge over the Charles River in South Natick, Massachusetts.

My kids catch the school bus pretty early. My youngest is ready and waiting by 7:00 a.m. and I have the privilege to walk her down to her bus stop. After saying our "good bye's" yesterday morning, I kept going to a local café. I had my sketchbook and pencils, two books ("Nana" by Zola and "Breakfast With Socrates" by Robert Rowland Smith) and some correspondence I needed to work on. The weather was overcast and a barely perceptible mist (or was it drizzle?) was in the air. But on the way I detoured to a small park overlooking a small dam on the nearby Charles River.
Here's a picture of it on a sunny morning. It's lovely and the noise of the steady stream of suburban commuters is drowned out by the rush of the Charles River over the dam. It's a popular place for people to lunch or have their coffee. Fathers and children fish there. Wedding photos get taken and pensive romantics hang out alongside professionals getting a quick, sunny break from their office routines. But not yesterday.

The only one working was a Great Blue Heron fishing for his breakfast below the dam. I drew his portrait. He would stand there on his spindly legs and do slow avian tai chi as he looked for something slippery and silvery to stab and gulp down. Every now and then, he'd balance on one leg and start to stretch and rotate the other (no doubt, those years of ballet training had given each of his muscles a mind of their own). I think it was just a technique for finding reliable footing, Braille-like in his slow progress across the face of the dam and the eddies where the fish were hiding.

I used a conté pencil for this drawing. I liked how the droplets of mist made the chalk more intense and how I could smudge it with that little bit of water. When I was done, I washed my fingers off in a puddle and went to get my coffee.

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Early Riser

I'm an early riser I like working quietly in my studio while the house is asleep and the birds are still in bed. I love the gradual blue glow I see as the sky begins to anticipate the sunrise. I own that dark hour before dawn and I get grouchy when I don't get it on a regular basis.

I really like that transition time from the undisturbed and limitless dark of night to the birdsong-filled beginning of a new day. But it's getting harder to get this special time to myself. This happens every year as summer approaches and the days get longer but I'm always surprised and a little anxious. I've grown accustomed to the long dark winter nights but now I have to get up at 4:00 a.m. just to experience a little of that magical window of time. As it is, I usually crawl out of bed at 4:30 and that gives me a little more than an hour before I have to take care of the kids and get them off to school.

The rest of the day is filled with sketching, scanning, blog writing, work and family-related chores and, later, more family business as people come home. The best hour of the day is that first one.

I've met a few kindred spirits along the way but luckily, no one else in my house shares this addiction. Thank goodness! I'd feel invaded if anyone else had a claim on my early solitude. Somehow, that's part of the mystique. I'm the captain of my ship and the crew is all below. It's my watch and I contemplate the profound depth of the night and the shallows of my mind. My map of this country is my sketchbook and the small tools I use to walk it's pages. To night then! And dawn! And to going before the mast even if mine is just a little boat with room for one (two would be a squeeze but maybe…?).