Inspired by a favorite trail along the Willamette River, and the springtime view at a favorite spot along the way. This piece uses a combination of Henri Roche, Blue Earth, and Sennelier soft pastels.
View of the Willamette River
Stormy Weather
Inspired by the night-dark clouds of a storm moving in, and rain falling as a misty curtain over distant hills. This piece makes use of Henri Roche’s “Feu d’artifice” selection of dark pigments enhanced with sparkles.
Untitled Pastel
Like something from a dream. Inspired by restless nights, and too much time spent fatigued and in my own head, in the midst of a world in turmoil. This piece makes use of Henri Roche’s “Feu d’artifice” selection of dark pigments enhanced with sparkles.
Summer Sunrise, McMinnville
I enjoy a beautiful sunrise. Happily, there are so many!
This June sunrise is done on Ampersand Pastelbord, using Blue Earth soft pastels. It captures the western horizon on a colorful morning, seen from a local trail.
This piece is available for sale. If interested, please contact me by email.
Views From The Ester Lee in June
I spent a couple days painting on the coast on the southern edge of Lincoln City, Oregon, in June. The view from the window of my room was lovely. I watched the tide come and go for hours.
Both of these pieces are available for sale (please email me if interested). These were painted en plein air from the open windows of a room at the Ester Lee Hotel, using Sennelier and Henri Roche pastels on Ampersand Pastelbord.
I have been finding myself more inspired lately – ocean views, forest trails, expanses of fields in full bloom, and so many beautiful sunrises and sunsets.
Time Passes
Time is a finite resource, it passes. Unused minutes get lost along the way. My last new pastel (or painting in any medium) was November 30th of 2024. That seems a very long time ago, though I’ve had at least one other very long period without new creative work.
I delighted myself with clearing the clutter from my studio and getting my workspace set up once again, over the past week. It feels functional, and the work feels satisfying. Maybe that’s enough?
I haven’t had the use of my studio for the time between July 1st of 2024 until quite recently – yesterday, actually, call it not quite two years. I happily sat down at my tabletop easel this morning, and did the first piece of new work in a long time. I have mixed feelings about it, which does not surprise me a bit. I’ve had plenty to inspire me over this past two years, and finally sitting down to do something about it feels a bit…strange. I’ll get over it. lol
Instead of giving up after one piece, I sat with my thoughts and an assortment of photographs from recent hikes and visits to hidden coastal places. After spending some time refreshing my recollections of a particular favorite spot, I got back to work.
It feels good to be painting again. I cue up a new playlist. More to come…
Inspired But
I happened to glance at this page recently and realized it has been many months since I last picked up my pastels (or paints)(or pencils). Last April, actually, some 10 months ago. It hasn’t been the longest gap in artistic output for me, and I don’t measure success or judge myself creatively by that, but it is dismaying to have lost so many moments of inspiration to circumstances that leave little space, time, or energy for painting…but I’m around. Still taking pictures of things that inspire me in some moment, still thinking creatively and planning new work, still yearning to paint on some solitary mountainside or beach. The time will come. It is not now.
I think about creative drive versus creative opportunity for a little while. My “lack of opportunity” is more to do with choices than anything else. Choosing work over art. Choosing caregiving or housekeeping over painting. Choosing rest over the effort involved in setting up and tearing down from some creative project or another. The economy drives my choices more than a little bit, too; I am not a “big seller” as an artist, and I don’t put as much into the business of selling my work as I do into creating it (never have). The cost of pastels, paper, destination travel, and other such things have increased (a lot). I can’t simply take a few days off, book a hotel somewhere, and go paint for a few days. Work keeps me home, fatigue keeps me from painting. Real life, even for artists, sometimes gets too real. lol
Still – there is a lot to inspire me in my daily life, and I’ll be back with new work eventually. 😉
Portraits of the Artist
I’m working on a commission, presently. A long-time friend who appreciates my work recently commissioned me to do a self-portrait. An interesting commission, and I undertook it enthusiastically, without giving the matter any hesitation at all – now I’m mired in it. lol Self-reflection is deep on a thing like this, but it’s not as if it is the first time I’ve done a self-portrait. They’ve changed over the years.
In the 80’s and early 90’s, when I was still “finding my artistic voice” (still a work in progress, as it turns out), and painting in both watercolor and acrylic, I found emotional safety in abstraction for self-portraiture.
I didn’t “stay in that place” indefinitely, things sometimes felt better, sometimes they felt worse. It was a complicated journey, artistically, and I often found that painting was a way of saying what I did not have words for at that time in my life.
Some of it I still lack words for, and I’m happy to be in a very different place in life now. My feelings about these works, and the experiences they represent, remain very complicated.
When my first marriage ended, in 1995, I fought hard and went through much to keep a small painting that remains one of my very fondest pieces, and it hangs in my home even now. I’ve never managed to take a decent photograph of it, and I guess I’m okay with that.
By 2000 I was painting exclusively in acrylic, and doing a lot of 3D mixed-media work, abstractions and pieces that used a lot of glow, glitter, ceramic adornments, and often working quite large. There were certainly pieces I could call self-portraits in the years between 1995 and 2014, when this next piece was painted, but they weren’t necessarily intended that way. (I think art as a form of self-expression of necessity says something about the artist, one way or another.)
The last self-portrait I started on is still “work in progress”, and I don’t know that I’ll ever finish it. I’ve moved on from that moment. I don’t feel the way I did then, and I’m not sure I can finish it in an honest way because I have changed.
So, here I am, now. This person, this woman, this artist, reflecting on self, and preparing to do one sort of self-portrait I’ve never done before; a work on commission for someone else. It’s an interesting project, and it is prompting me to reflect on details of the answer to a question in life that is simultaneously quite deep, and also quite mundane. Possibly one of the least useful questions one can ask oneself; because we already know the answer, however reluctantly we choose to acknowledge it. Self-reflection has value – but does it have hue? I chuckle to myself as I consider how best to portray the woman I see in the mirror every day.
Bald Peak Viewpoint Misty Morning
I sought out this location with some plein air painting in mind, but what I actually got was a rainy day with muddy trails and mist-obscured views. It was beautiful in its own way, and worth the trip. I’ll go back again, when the weather is fair and try to get a look at the view this spot is known for. There are lovely spots with picnic tables convenient for lingering awhile, and I can see this location becoming a favorite spot to paint.
This piece was done using a combination of Blue Earth and Sennelier soft pastels, and inspired by the dense mist, and rain-drenched early spring landscape of grassy slopes and mature hemlock trees.
Spring on the Clackamas River
My week scouting inspiring locations for a bit of plein air work took me out to the Clackamas River. I enjoyed a chilly morning of hiking new trails, and scouting likely spots to sit alongside the river somewhere taking in the view. I finally found “my spot”, and I know I’ll be going back there. The chilly gray day threatened rain, but I did manage to get a bit of painting done before heading for home.
This piece was painted with Sennelier and Blue Earth pastels, on Ampersand Pastelbord.
7″ x 9″ pastel on pastelbord, 2025
The Art of M. Elisabeth Howell 