Bark Study - the Art

In nature, attempting to draw an on-site colored pencil work using a realistic technique such as “Bark Study”, (my example posted at right) would be a Herculean task. Especially during the winter. Especially while hugging a riverbank. Therefore, to capture the detail of the tree stripped of its bark, I had to resort to taking a reference photo. At home, when I downloaded the shot, I was not surprised to find it terribly blurred and off-color. I am a terrible photographer now, and four years ago, I was even worse. Luckily, I have been a super fan of trees all of my life, so filling in the blanks was a simple pleasure.

Bark Study - the Creation

I have a high admiration for the intricacies involved in God’s creation. Viewing the variety of textures expressed in tree bark alone gives me extreme pleasure. There is an additional poetic element involved, if one were to meditate on the nature of bark. Bark changes with growth. Bark sloughs off if growth occurs too rapidly. Bark wears a rich road map of history – damage inflicted by ice, fire and humans – while protecting its fragile inner potential. God speaks to us through His creation, should we take a moment to listen.

Bark Study - the Connection

“It’s easy to describe the leaves in the Autumn
and it’s oh so easy in the Spring,
But down through January and February
it’s a very different thing.”

– “A Sense of Wonder”, Van Morrison

It is no easy task to explain why a walk through barren woods in winter is a worthwhile venture. A monochromatic winter palette isn’t as exciting as the pastels of spring or the vibrant primary colors of summer or autumn. However, it is the perfect time to take pause and focus on the earth, rocks and bark of the wilderness. These elements – bland to most – comprise the framework upon which leaves are hung, birds are perched and flowers are raised. Spring will come and we will praise its arrival, but the unsung winter may surprise you.

Elephant Rocks - the Art

One of the two attached images is a sketch I created yesterday at Elephant Rocks State Park, a geological wonder in Iron County, Missouri. To keep my pack light up the icy walk, I brought only a limited palette of colored pencils. My on-site sketch appears almost cartoonish in its simplicity, and with its limited range of colors, it is scarcely useful as a color study.

However, my purpose in creating this field sketch was more than simply reproducing the scene. I sat on the boulder and pulled out my sketchpad and pencils in the dead of winter to capture a moment of inspiration, however simply, to recall later in the studio. Likely, the snow-capped giants will become a companion piece to the other attached image, my pastel painting creatively titled “Elephant Rocks”.

Elephant Rocks - the Creation

Magma expelled from the earth over a billion years ago finally settled into a pile of thousands of tons of red granite. Carved by water and wind into gigantic rotund pink boulders, it is humbling to climb amongst the “herd”. Green lichen complements the complexion of these pink giants, and weather-beaten shrubs offer a pleasing textural contrast. Several pockmarked depressions beneath the elephants form smooth reflecting pools, a peaceful venue for meditating on matters of nature that are bigger than we are.

[A side note: it is always disturbing to me when I come across vandalism, especially when inflicted upon nature. Many attempt to claim what belongs to all by carving or writing on natural treasures. These boulders have not escaped the stamps of selfish efforts to conquer something beautiful. Attempts to remove some of the graffiti have left foreign rectangular discolorations on the surface. Shameful.]

Elephant Rocks - the Connection

The sensual experiences gleaned atop the massive, snow-capped offspring of molten rock are rich. As the freezing morning warmed and I reached the summit to find my sketching perch, I became a lizard sunning herself on the steaming rock. The rough and bumpy texture beneath me was a convenient reference for my drawing effort. The overlook was quiet, save for a distant baying hound and the sound of trees unburdening themselves of their snow coats.

My trek also marked the birthday of my mother who has been gone from this world for nearly two decades. During our time together, I knew her shell – a stroke survivor, her body was fragile, her demeanor was stoic. Prior to my birth, she was a vibrant practitioner of life with a strong work ethic. What was unchanged after her paralysis, the woman I knew, was that she remained fearless. A rock.

Nature inspires. Nature soothes. Connecting sensually with one’s surroundings is a healing, revelatory experience. Whoever is immersed in the beauty of this world and denies the existence of God and the peace He provides for us has not begun to search.

So it begins . . .

Me? I'm a visual artist, a poet, a lover of God and His creation. I'm on a bright journey, newly hatched from a grey world.

Can the term "emerging artist" hold the same meaning as "faithful follower"? They are certainly not dissimilar. One cannot see the wind, though one can see what it carries, what it destroys. It provides refreshment on a hot day and eases the burden of an uphill load. If truly attuned to nature, one can see and hear trees applaud its presence. The faith required to believe in God - belief in unseen power - is like believing in the existence of the wind and believing that talent and inspiration is bestowed upon the seeker.

Similarly, to quit one's job in this bleak economy - as I did - to pursue an unknown fate in the arts requires much faith. So begins the journey of an emerging artist with nothing, according to the world . . . but with everything, according to all that's required of faith.