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.
“Bald Peak Viewpoint Misty Morning” pastel on pastelbord 7.5″ x 9″, 2025
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.
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.
“Spring on the Clackamas River” 7″ x 9″ pastel on pastelbord, 2025
Inspiration is powerful stuff, but plans don’t always lead to the hoped for outcome, and that was certainly true of my recent time spent scouting beautiful places to do a bit of plein air painting. It rained. It rained like all the rain ever was going to have to fall on those days I was out on the trails and exploring new locations. I can’t be mad; I got some great hiking miles in, and took some useful pictures for later work – and I did find some great spots to paint on some future, less rainy, days.
Like here.
Or here.
Maybe here?
How about here?
What I mean to say is that it was time well-spent on new trails, seeing beautiful places, and being inspired, and it met my needs pretty well, in spite of not actually doing much painting. I managed two new pieces, one plein air, one in the warmth and comfort of home. More on those another time.
Funny thing, I found myself equally inspired in my own wee garden, and spent some of my time there, happily working in the Spring soil, and there’s probably a lesson there.
It’s been a couple months since my last new work came off the easel. Honestly, I’ve been feeling a bit cynical and gloomy due to the current state of things in the world and in the United States. It’s less than ideally inspiring. I need to get away from all that, and expose myself to new paths, new sights (and new sites), and I’ve decided to take a few days away from my “day job” to devote myself to creative endeavors, and get a bit of plein air work done here and there, places I’ve yet to visit, or passed through once upon a moment, intending to go back. Seems a good time for such things.
My thought is to begin each day quite early, go to my selected location, get a hike in and maybe some photographs for other work, some other day, and once the morning chill has eased a bit, get set up and paint for awhile. Maybe take a break in the afternoon to make coffee or enjoy a picnic bite and watch the light change before painting awhile longer, then make my way back home. I’ve got 4 such days planned, each with a different location (and a different “plan B” option just in case I’ve got to account for something unexpected). Should be fun. It’ll at least be time well-spent on creative things and self-care, and a momentary break from the day-to-day routine.
I’ve got a day planned for a riverside location, with good views, and convenient spots to work from. I’ve never been to this specific place, only passed by a couple times on my way elsewhere. I’ll be starting with this one.
A fairly poor picture of a very lovely spot.
The next day, I’ll head up into the hills (mountains?), to a creekside spot I’ve picnicked at a couple of times, and always thought I’d like to come back to do some plein air work, there. The view is pleasing, and easy to get to although quite out-of-the-way. The risk here is weather; it may have snowed up there. If that’s problematic, I’ve got a beautiful meadow location I’ve wanted to visit, with a pleasant easy hike I haven’t yet tried as my “Plan B”.
Another day, I’ve got planned for two locations rather near to each other, and not too far from home, that I’ve simply never gotten around to, but I’m eager to visit them. One has a spectacular view across the valley; I glimpsed it once as I passed it on a drive some time ago and have wanted to return, managing never to get around to it. The other is, so far, only a mark on a map – a place I’d like to visit.
My final day is planned for a State Park known for its waterfalls and trails. This is another that may have snow (and although I enjoy a snowy landscape, I dislike plein air painting with cold fingers! lol). My “plan B” for this one takes me quite the opposite direction, to the coast, to a picnic table nestled in a forest, very near a small rather private beach.
I’d share more pictures in this post, but in all but one case, I’ve never been to these places long enough to take a picture! Modest adventures, to be sure, nothing especially exotic, but lovely opportunities for painting and enjoying some solitary time with my thoughts. I look forward to sharing new work with you!
“Urban Warfare (world on fire)” pastel on pastelmat, 2024, 7″ x 9.5″
This piece is inspired by recent world events, global warfare, and the unsettling sensation that the world is on fire, which has begun to seep into my dreams. It’s not a coincidence that it is similar to “The Nightmare City”; it is a place I see often in my dreams. In my PTSD-fueled nightmares, I find myself on this street, looking up the road toward…what, exactly? The distance? What is beyond, I never quite find out, however long I walk – or run. Sometimes it helps to paint these images, sometimes it doesn’t.
“Winter Sunrise” 7″ x 9″, pastel on Pastelmat, 2024
I sat down to paint, feeling the lingering fatigue of a busy week, and a little low, generally. My heart felt heavy with the weight of unexpressed concerns, mostly fairly abstract and unresolvable. This painting is inspired both by my heavy heart, and also by the awareness that a new day will dawn. I could have titled it “This Too Will Pass” and conveyed similar sentiment.
This piece is painted entirely with Blue Earth pastels, and on Clairefontaine Pastelmat, taking advantage of a new tabletop easel. It’s been awhile since I worked from an easel, and in pastel there are some definite advantages, one being that loose pastel dust falls away from the work immediately, reducing the risk of smudging it into the work in spots where it doesn’t belong.
“Sunrise at the Trailhead II” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024
I take a lot of early morning hikes. I see a lot of sunrises. No suprise then that I also paint a lot of sunrises. This view is a favorite one, from “my” parking place at a favorite trail. I see the sun rise from this vantage point often. This colorful sunrise, a view seen in September (as I recall) was quite a splendid one, and I did my humble best to capture it, although there is no universe in which art could accurately convey the beauty of the colors I saw that morning. I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep wondering at those beautiful sunrises.
“September Morning” 5″ x 7″, pastel on Pastelbord, 2024
The hikes are different as the seasons change. The autumn foliage takes on hues of gold, rusty reds, and hints of orange. The skies are grayer and the chilly breeze directs the migrating birds to warmer climates.
The full moon shortly before daybreak at the edge of a meadow inspired this piece. For me, this one is an autumn moment, in September; shorter days and later sunrises sometimes taking me by surprise, thinking I’ll be hiking, but finding myself waiting for the sun. The subtle violets and cobalt blues are among the delights of the Henri Roche pastels.
The Art of M. Elisabeth Howell 