"Two Cups of Tea" -- oil on stretched canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

"Yellow Primrose" -- oil on stretched canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

Winter has returned with a vengeance! It snowed ALL day yesterday. A perfect day for painting in the studio. I'd found this vintage, striped table runner at a resale shop in Charlevoix last week. Loved the "cottagey" colors! I'm sure there will be more paintings with this cloth.

I love painting cups with tea. It's fascinating -- the colors change so quickly as the tea brews. These teacups are ancient, with "China" stamped on the bottom. Thin as paper. With little hand-painted bluebirds and flowers. It's a miracle they survived my move up north.

Because it was so dark & dreary outside, I had to set up a studio light to get some sense of sunlight and shadow patterns. Still, it's not quite as good as real sunshine.

The primrose plant came from Glen's in Charlevoix. I'm going to try to keep it alive until spring, so I can plant it in my flower garden.

I found I had to pre-mix all the colors of the striped fabric in fairly large quantities before doing the actual painting. I enjoy loading on the paint to get a "thick & juicy" look. Not only is the scene interesting, but I also like people to notice the beauty of the actual paint, its wonderful "mooshiness" and color.

"Onions #2" -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

"Onions #1" -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

I did these 2 paintings over the weekend in my nice, warm studio as the wind howled and snow piled up outside. I love doing plein-air landscapes, but it's impossible in wind and snow.

Finishing the recent "Amaryllis" painting, I was hot to trot to do a larger, more complex painting with several amaryllis. I drove into Charlevoix, to K-Mart, where I got 4 red amaryllis bulbs for half-price. Potted them up and now it's a matter of having patience. I'm guessing they'll be blooming in 3 - 4 weeks. Meanwhile, what to paint? In desperation I grabbed these 4 onions and headed into the studio.

I'm a big fan of using vintage tablecloths, rescued from garage sales. This old tablecloth was made of heavy muslin, embroidered with blue wool. I set up things in front of the south-facing window, but it was still awfully dark. Sun in winter is a rare thing along the coastline. So I also put a studio light to the right. Which is why there is a hint of 2 sources of light. Maybe next time I'll put something to block the weaker light from the windows and just use the studio light.

I've got 2 little kitties about 3 months old that are very curious. They like being up on the table, batting around my onions and investigating my wet palette. When I leave the studio for the day, I always lock up my wet palette and set anything breakable out of their reach. Saturday I left for a few minutes to go make a cup of coffee. Both kitties were snoozing.

When I came back, the little female (Miss America -- named for her pretty face) had a yellow muzzle! She'd decided to do a little taste-test on the cadmium yellow medium. Yikes. It's very poisonous. I doubt she ingested much, but her little face had a light smear of yellow all over. I didn't know what to do. Wiping her down with turpentine didn't seem like a good idea. Maybe I could have dipped a rag in a solution of Murhpy's Oil Soap and wiped her face. I envisioned a grand struggle. In the end, I didn't do anything.

All night I would wake up, envisioning poor Miss America, dying. I was dreading going out to the studio for what I would find.

Amazingly, Miss America seems OK. None the worse for wear, I'm happy to report. Lesson learned: never trust a sleeping kitty -- lock up that palette!

"Rex Beach Road - 12/12/09" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel -- Margie Guyot

At last - a sunny day! We'd had blizzards since Tuesday night. Something like 15" of snow on the ground. I hadn't driven anywhere since our band concert Tuesday night, so today everybody and his brother had errands to run. I finally got my Soltek into the Flex and drove up US-31 toward Charlevoix. I turned west onto Rex Beach Road and thought this view was pretty interesting. No mountains here; only rolling hills, trees and lake. I love the rare days we have sun here because that's when the blue shadows occur.

It was a rather balmy 28 degrees, but it was also very windy. I was so glad I'd put on my heavy-insulated snow pants and heavyweight down coat. Otherwise it'd have been miserable.

This road leads down to one of my favorite painting spots: Rex Beach, which is one of the Antrim Creek Natural Area parks. The parks aren't plowed here in winter, so I probably won't be able to get down to the lake to paint unless the snow melts. Somebody decided they should pay something like $35,000 to put up some "interpretive" displays. I think more people would have preferred doing without the interpretive displays -- and having at least one of the area parks plowed at least once a month here.

I look forward to doing more still lifes, but at the moment my studio is very cluttered. I moved a ton of things out of a side storage room and took several days to insulate that room. My neighbor Jerry has been helping me build storage shelves for my large canvases and frames. Once this project is over, I can put everything away -- and get back to painting still lifes. Itching with ideas!

"Fisherman's Island - November 28, 2009" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

It was cold. It was dark. It was windy. Sometimes it drizzled; sometimes it snowed. But my friend Janet had driven up from Dearborn and she wanted to go painting! Thank goodness for heavyweight goosedown coats!

She'd seen 2 paintings I'd done from this same spot earlier this fall. "Let's go there!" So we drove up to Charlevoix and headed off into Fisherman's Island State Park. It really was a dreary day, but it was far more enjoyable than staggering around in a shopping Mall.

I'd had a bout of insomnia the night before. Had gotten up and fixed a cup of Sleepytime Tea and pulled out Richard Schmid's book "Alla Prima: Everything I know about Painting". In it, he wrote that it's important to always paint the sky first, before the trees. I'd always wondered about that. This time I did paint the sky first and the trees second. Liked the way it turned out.

And it's always challenging to figure out how to handle the light-colored rocks in the foreground. It's not sand there but broken rocks.

I always love the look of Lake Michigan. The colors fascinate me. I love how the distant horizon looks so dark. Closer in, the water often takes a sage green or sometimes turquoise tone.

We were both pretty frozen by the time we finished our paintings. My friend apologized for dragging me out there. Ha! I told her I was glad she suggested it. Otherwise I'd have spent the time cleaning out the henhouse.

"Gnome for the Holidays" -- oil on canvas -- 30x40" -- Margie Guyot

People always ask me what my inspiration for a painting was. In this case, it was the ancient accordion I happened to see high on a shelf in Petals, a flower shop in Charlevoix, MI. The woman told me she used to play accordion (me, too!) and she'd found this old instrument out in a Las Vegas pawnshop. Reminds me of "Accordion Crimes" by Annie Proulx -- one of my favorite novels, by the way.

I thought this was such a cool accordion. I dared to ask the woman if I might borrow it sometime to use in a still life painting. To my utter surprise, she said yes. She'd never seen me before, but was willing to let me whisk away her accordion! This would only happen in the rural Midwest! As a thank-you, I bought a bunch of lime green fuji mums, which I managed to incorporate into this painting.

My friend Ev had been suggesting to me that I should paint a musical instrument-themed still life. Now that I had the piece-de-resistance, I could build the rest of the setup. Ev loaned me the cornet, guitar and violin.

I had the gnomes. This big one in the center is from Meijer's garden department. Usually it's stationed right inside my front door, greeting all vistors in its namaste pose. The other gnome in the back I brought up from my old digs in Farmington Hills. How it survived the move without being broken, I consider a minor miracle.

Found those great, old vintage poinsettia glasses in Consign Design, in Charlevoix. I love old schlock like that! The poinsettia tablecloth was from my "early garage sale collection".

For reasons I can't really explain, I had to set everything atop a tropical print with turquoise and golden palm leaves. Maybe it's locked way into some subconscious fantasy about spending Christmas down on a desert island.

The cookies are entirely made up, from memory. The miserable grocery stores up here have the nastiest, most pathetic cookies you could imagine! I'm trying to cut the carbs, so I didn't want to bake any. Plus, I'm too impatient to stop & bake cookies when I'm inspired to start a new still life. But I do remember how Christmas cookies USED to look. They're sitting on a Depression glass plate I inherited from my mom.

Swirling around in the back are branches from one of the neighbor's bushes. They sure look like some kind of cranberry to me. By the time I finished this, they were dried-out mummies.

What was the hardest part about this painting? Painting the musical instruments! Unlike a squash or apple, they have to be ACCURATE. And those accordion keys -- oy vey! Early on, I'd painted in the accordion, then when I came into the studio the next day I saw it was all skewed. I'd stood close to the canvas, looking down on it. It looked OK at that angle, but from across the room, it was very much "off". As usual, I did LOTS of wipe-outs on this. But I'm pronouncing it done!

"Happy Halloween" -- oil on stretched canvas -- 30x40" -- Margie Guyot

"Happy Halloween" (Detail)

As a kid growing up in Iowa, I always loved Halloween. My cousins and I would make up the most fantastic costumes and go trick-or-treating weeks in advance. There was no special designated night for trick-or-treating back then, so we'd make the most of it, turning it into 5 or 6 nights. We'd go to each other's neighborhoods and stay out for 3 - 4 hours at a time.

Halloween was NOT a good time to live in or near Detroit, however. For 30 years I lived on the outskirts of Detroit, where the holiday was marred with vandalism and arson. They didn't call it "Devil's Night" for nothing. Thank goodness I moved away.

I wanted to include the two classic Halloween candies: candy corn and those horrible peanut taffy confections that came wrapped in orange and black wax paper. Ugh! Even as a kid, I never cared for either. But they do say "Halloween", don't they? Found a package of each at the dollar store. I checked to see if they were made in China (no -- Indiana). My holy grail was "Almond Joy".

Probably the first thing I'd found that inspired me to do this piece were the clear plastic owl trays. They came from a Charlevoix consignment shop. The clear glass-covered pumpkin dish also came from a resale shop in Ellsworth. As with most of my still lifes, everything either comes from a resale shop or garage sale. I love it: shopping roulette! I love the concept of trusting in the Universe to steer one towards things they need.

Don't you just love the warty pumpkin? Actually, I've been told it's really a squash. Today I'm going to bake it and maybe make a pie.

I've had that black ceramic cat teapot for probably 30 years. Love that thing. It's probably about the only thing I bought new, aside from the candy.

The first things I painted in this piece were the maple leaves. I knew they wouldn't last but a day before drying up. It's getting late in the season and I feared waking up some morning to find all the leaves on the ground before I'd had a chance to paint them.

Maybe working in the auto factory was a good thing in that it got me used to constant interruptions, struggles and aggravations. I've adopted 2 little kitties for the studio and they interrupted me constantly. Kept wanting to climb up my legs, sit on my lap, wanting me to play with them all the time. At the end of every painting session I'd have to lock up the palette in another room, as they wanted to walk all over it.

I included a close-up detail shot of Elvis, my favorite cat. This is the third time I've included him in a painting. He typically hangs around me all the time, watching and guarding me from errant mice.

"Creek House" -- plein air field study -- 9x12" -- oil on canvas -- Margie Guyot

My friend Pete called on the phone Friday afternoon, saying he wanted to show me a cute little house that just went up for sale down the road from us. We both just fell in love with it! Sitting on 10 acres, just off US31, between Eastport and Atwood, Michigan. South of Charlevoix, north of Traverse City, about a mile east of Lake Michigan.

That's a big porch on the left side. You can't see it in this painting, but there's a stream that winds all along the front of the house. A great spot to sit and watch the deer!

We met the owner yesterday, who told us the land around the house had been a thick woods, making it difficult to get back there to build the house. It had started out as a one-room hunting lodge. It's beautiful now.

I went back on Saturday afternoon to paint this view. I'd waited until about 4 PM. Which was too late to get a good sun-drenched view. The house sits back of a hill and the trees block the late-day sun. Finally a few patches of sunlight came through on the lawn in the foreground.

"Charlevoix Boat Dock" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

See those big, dark clouds in the distance? All of us painters were lined up on the boat dock, painting furiously, trying to finish before those clouds hit. Those were SNOW clouds!

I really liked the view of the assemblage of boats, sitting serenely in the placid water. It was a very chilly morning, so maybe that had something to do with the boat owners not taking them out for a spin. We painters were grateful for that! All too often we've gotten 5 or 10 minutes into a painting of a boat (or a car) when the owner shows up and drives off.

My friend Al Maciag and I finished our paintings about the same time, packed up and walked back to the Charlevoix Circle of Arts. We were participating in the plein-air paintout and needed to have all our paintings framed and turned in that afternoon. Those clouds were approaching rapidly, so we decided to call it quits for painting and do our framing in the basement of the art center. Soon all the other participants joined us. As we framed, it begain raining heavily, then SNOWING! Oh boy.

This was also the annual Apple Festival, with many arts & crafts booths set up downtown and lots of tourists. After the snow died down, Al and I took a stroll around the booths. Many vendors were zipping up the tent sides and closing down for the day. Most of the tourists had retreated to their motels. The mitten and fur accessory dealers were still open, though. I bought a pair of purple fox earmuffs, perfect for wearing while plein-air painting!

At the reception we talked to fellow painter Kevin Barton, who had been painting the lighthouse when the storm hit. His easel and painting nearly blew into the lake. His very dramatic painting won a prize (sorry, I don't have a photo).

"Charlevoix Bridge -- Night" -- plein air field study -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

Was this ever fun! After painting the view of the Charlevoix Lighthouse (see below), I was walking back to the main street when I was struck by the abstract quality and glimmer of the lights on the water. Darkness had fallen. The high winds had died down. It felt rather balmy, compared to earlier. Thanks to the row of street lights along this walkway, I had enough light to see what I was doing. I didn't know if I'd be able to pull it off or not, but I thought what the heck! It was actually quite peaceful, painting all alone in the darkness. Not a single soul came by. That's one of the great things about living up here -- there's a lot less crime. Painting after dark down on Belle Isle, in Detroit, would probably not be something I'd attempt.

This view shows the causeway that connects Lake Michigan to Round Lake. What you're looking at is the drawbridge that is raised to allow the large cruise ships and sailboats to go back and forth between the 2 lakes. The drawbridge is part of US 31, the main street through town. As you can imagine, in the warmer months, with all the boat traffic AND the numerous festivals and tourists, there can be some big traffic snarls on a regular basis! I've been caught in them -- and it's taken 20 - 30 minutes to go 1/2 a mile sometimes.

I always keep my color arrangement in the same order on my palette. Clyde Aspevig taught us to do that. He said that if you always keep your colors in the same order, you will be able to paint in dim light. The next morning I was somewhat hesitant to look at this painting, for fear the "black" tones would be too brown, blue or red. I'd painted this without any black paint, using a mix of ultramarine blue, alizarin crimson the dark brown that Scott Christensen uses (I forget the name of it).

I'm going to try to do more night paintings. This was FUN!

"Charlevoix Lighthouse at Sunset" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

One of the stipulations in our paint-out for the Charlevoix Circle of Arts was that one of our finished paintings should have been painted in a "suggested" area. At first we squealed like stuck pigs, resisting being told we had to paint in a "suggested" area. Sometimes what seems like a good area to paint to one person just might not look at all paintable to another person. Thankfully, all the suggested areas were OK (at least, to me).

We had the option of getting our blank canvases stamped on Friday afternoon (instead of Saturday morning). Rain (and possibly snow) had been predicted for Saturday, so I made sure I got a good start on Friday. I ended up painting 3 on Friday (see yesterday's post to see the one of the excursion boat).

I knew I wanted to paint a sunset scene with the town's lighthouse. They recently painted it red (it had been white). After painting the view of "The Keweenaw Star" (below), I walked over to the lighthouse and set up, waiting for sunset. By the time I finished and packed up, it was nightfall. As I walked back along the causeway to the main street, I was struck by the view of the bridge. Why stop now? It was a good day!

"The Keweenaw Star" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

This was the first of 3 paintings I did yesterday. It was the first afternoon of the big plein-air paintout, put on by the Charlevoix Circle of Arts. The town was crowded with people, up for the annual Applefest. And the weather was FOUL! I had on several layers of clothing and a hat, but still felt chilled. I think the temperature was in the 40's, with dark skies and relentless wind.

The paint-out rules allowed artists to sign-in and get our canvases stamped on the back, beginning Friday at 2 PM. Two new artist friends of mine from Dearborn (Janet and Kathy) had come up and I wanted to go painting with them. Janet set up her easel overlooking Lake Charlevoix, enamored of the distant view of the blue mountains. She loves grand vistas -- exactly the type of scene I avoid. Where to paint? Where to paint?

I wandered across the bridge, toward the boat harbor and saw this big boat: the Keweenaw Star. Somebody was aboard. I asked them how long they'd be docked there. I've learned to ask because sometimes I'd be 10 minutes into a painting and the boat would drive off! They weren't planning on taking off until 6 PM. Good!

As you probably know, I love big "chunks" of things to paint (as opposed to distant vistas). I love the shapes, colors and reflections. It was a very dark, gray day, but I knew the water would still have interesting colors and reflections. Painting boats is always a challenge, but it's fun.

I did 2 more paintings after this one, continuing until well after dark. It was too dark to photograph them, so I'll post them next time.

"Fisherman's Island #1" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas -- 9x12" -- Margie Guyot

"Fisherman's Island #2" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas -- 9x12" -- Margie Guyot

Today was supposed to be the last really nice day we'll have up here for a while. Rain is moving in tonight. I decided to let everything else slide -- and drive up to Fisherman's Island State Park, just south of Charlevoix. Last week I'd been mushroom-hunting up here and I knew I'd have to come back and paint this spot. It's one of the few areas that looks good at mid-day.

Both paintings were done within less than 50 feet of each other. I guess I just liked the design of this view, with the "white" gravel road and distant view of Lake Michigan. The fall colors have just begun to show.

"Apple Pie" -- oil on canvas panel -- 5x7" -- Margie Guyot

"Ala Mode" -- oil on canvas panel -- 5x7" -- Margie Guyot

Friday I baked an apple pie just for the purpose of getting to paint a picture of a slice of it. I have been on a diet since March, so this is the first pie I've baked in months. I could have bought a slice down the street at Friske's (south of Charlevoix), but it's never as good as homemade. And expensive!

I had intended on painting a series of slices of pie but had been busy with all kinds of things all summer. Glen's Market had "buy one, get one free" on bags of Ginger-Gold apples, so that's what I used. Turns out they worked great.

I used a tablecloth I bought a few weeks ago at a garage sale.

These two paintings I did, using the same slice of pie. I finished one, turned it a bit and put a scoop of ice cream (Stroh's Vanilla Bean). In the middle of painting it, my neighbor Jerry came by and we visited a little. Ah -- how fast ice cream melts! Good thing I'd painted it in early. I had to pick up the plate & slurp (remember that Jell-O scene with John Belushi in "Animal House"?) to avoid it flowing over onto the tablecloth.

OK, ok, I DID eat this piece. But I'm giving the rest of the pie to my neighbors. Stay tuned for "Lemon Meringue", coming soon....

"Scott Road" -- plein air field study -- oil on stretched canvas -- 12x24" -- Margie Guyot

This is the road I live on. Lake Michigan lies 1 mile west (as the crow flies). I moved up here nearly 2 years ago, after participating in a daylong paintout with the Crooked Tree Art Center (Petoskey). I hadn't been up this way in 30 years, so it was quite a surprise to see how beautiful it was up here. It kind of reminds me of the rolling hills of Vermont. The summers are packed with tourists, but the winters are rather brutal. Only the toughest old birds stay here.

I've always loved the look of this road, especially in late afternoon, with the long shadows running across the road. As a plein air painter, I especially like scenes where I can paint while standing in the blessed shade.

Normally I don't paint such large canvases, but there are a couple shows coming up that called for this type of wide format. I actually painted this on 2 afternoons, returning to the same spot.

"Sunset - 8/23/09" -- plein air field study -- oil on stretched canvas -- 12x24" -- Margie Guyot

Again, I normally don't paint in this wide format en plein air, but I was wanting to put this into a show that was looking for this size. Sunsets are beautiful to paint, but they're also the devil. The light and cloud formations are changing so rapidly, it's best to arrive on the scene early, try to pre-mix an anticipated range of colors, use a big brush and a small canvas.

After several days of gusty winds and rain, it was calm on Sunday night. I drove down to my favorite spot for sunset paintings, Rex Beach, just south of Charlevoix, MI. The advantage to this spot is that you can drive right down to the water. Other parks dot the shoreline here, but you have to schlep your gear for 3 - 4 blocks, up & down a long hill and across sand dunes.

As I painted, a car of people pulled up to enjoy the sunset, too. Two of the men got out their fishing rods and casted for panfish. I didn't see them catch anything, though.

The cloud formations always amaze me. They roll in off the western side of the lake and are wonderful. Trying to paint the glowing reds and golds is tough. If I use this study for a later studio painting, what I'd do is paint the red and gold areas with white, leave it dry, then give thin glazes of color. That's the only way I know to get anywhere near the brilliance.

"Rex Beach" -- 12x16" plein air field study -- oil on canvas -- Margie Guyot

Yesterday morning two friends and I drove over to meet other painters in an orchard. But nobody was there. Luckily, my friend Jerry had his cell phone and called a contact number. Turns out the orchard was going to spray their cherries, so our location was suddenly changed to Rex Beach. Right down the road from where I live. Rex Beach is right on Lake Michigan, south of Charlevoix.

Rex Beach is great for painting sunsets, but during mid-day I think the light is too flat and it's rather uninteresting to paint (to me, at least). It took me quite a while to finally decide what view to paint. I nearly wiped this out. The tough thing about paint this was that the sand and grass in the foreground is very bleached-out by the sun. So to be true to what's in front of us, we have to paint it looking rather bleached-out. What I loved most about this view is the distant bank of trees and the sparkle of the water.

"Sunset -- 8-01-09" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel -- 9x12" -- Margie Guyot

After painting in Petoskey all day for the Crooked Tree Paint-Out, some buddies of mine and I decided to meet at Rex Beach for sunset painting. Rex Beach is part of the Antrim Creek Natural Area, 2 parks that are along the east coast of Lake Michigan. The advantage to painting at Rex Beach is that you can drive your car right down to the water, instead of having to park and schlep all your gear for several blocks down a trail and across a sand dune.

It was a beautiful evening to be out on the beach! There were only a few swarms of newly-hatched midges. Not at all as bad as the swarms in June.

There was pizza there and I was offered some, but it's impossible to paint anything so fleeting while eating anything! I always use at least a #8 flat brush and paint as quickly as I possibly can. The light and cloud formations are changing every second.

"Sunset - July 29, 2009" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas panel 9x12" -- Margie Guyot

When I don't make regular postings, some of my friends start to worry. Well, don't worry! I've just been very busy, doing a jillion things. Planting cherry trees, playing my sax in 3 bands, planting flowers. The most exciting thing I've been tied up with is the completion of my art studio. Finally the drywall is up. Trim is up. Everything is painted. The only holdup is a backorder on my track lighting. I'd been under the gun to get parts of the job done (such as priming and painting) so the contractor could do his job. It cut into my painting time, but the end is in sight. While waiting for the track lights, I've been putting things away and organizing.

I've been lusting to get back into painting large still lifes, but it's been impossible with my studio under construction.

The weather up here along the NW coastline of Michigan has been perfect this summer. Parts of the south have been suffering severe drought and heat. But not us! We've enjoyed most days around 70 degrees (nights in the 50's), with regular rainfall.

Last night was so beautiful I took my gear down to Antrim Creek Natural Area, south of Charlevoix, on the shore of Lake Michigan. It was about 8:30 when I drove over. A new hatching of midges was out. As I walked along the path that hugs Antrim Creek, there were little fish leaping out of the water, going for the midges. Had to keep my mouth closed when walking through clouds of the things. At least they weren't mosquitoes!

But what to paint? The water level of Lake Michigan is up about 6" this year, thanks to last winter's over-generous snowfalls. The big rock formations I painted last year are mostly under water. I always use a little viewfinder to try to see what might look like an interesting composition. I strolled along the shoreline, looking all over, trying to find something that excited me enough to paint it.

Finally I saw 3 big rocks that I thought I might as well try painting. After roughly drawing them in, a big cloud obscured the sunlight. Rats! It was the colors of the water and sand that had struck me as most interesting. And now they were dulled-down by the absence of sunlight. I turned around, feeling frustrated.

Egad! The sky was fabulous! Loved the colors! Loved the cloud shapes! I picked up my Soltek and did a 180 degree flipflop with it. Wiped out the rock outlines and painted this scene as quickly as possible. Sunsets change every second! In the distance you can see a bit of the Leelanau Peninsula on the horizon.

I really loved the gentle, rolling waves coming in and how they showed the darker water underside along with the dazzlingly-bright reflection of the sun. And overall, the water surface had a gorgeous viridian tone to it. One of these days I've got to remember to throw a tube of viridian into my bag! I had to kind of wing it with blue and a hint of yellow.

Having grown up in Iowa, Lake Michigan continually amazes me. The colors sure don't match what I saw in the Wapsipinnicon River! I've come down to the lake to paint many times and each time I see new things. This summer I've been trying to learn to capture the look and feel of the waves. Like a sunset, waves won't hold still, doggone it!

"Willys Fleetvan" -- plein air field study -- oil on 9x12" stretched canvas -- Margie Guyot

It was a beautiful, sunny (and cool) day here. Perfect for getting out to paint! I had to drive up to Charlevoix to get the oil changed on my Flex, so thought I might as well drive over to my friend Linda's and try painting her vintage Willys. I think she said it's a 1962 model.

In reality, the sun visor is dented. A tree fell on it. But it's in otherwise fairly decent-looking shape. Decent-LOOKING is the keyword here. Needs brakes and a muffler replacement, but ah -- details, details! I'm told this is one of only 6 left in the US.

Boy o boy -- this was pretty tough to do. Weird shape. I'm a sucker for reflected light, so maybe some people will look at this and think she was on drugs when she painted that! Well, no -- it's still springtime up here in NW Michigan and the grass is a rather furious shade of bright green.

I painted this whole thing with one brush: my favorite #8 flat.

Egad -- now I must sign off and go change clothes. I just came in from spraying Liquid Fence on my hollyhocks (to keep those naughty deer away) and some of that stinky stuff spilled onto my jeans. I need to leave for band rehearsal in a few minutes and I think it's not a very good idea to go in stinking to high heaven....

"Plum Trees" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas board -- Margie Guyot

With the change of seasons, my neighbors and I are all in a flurry to do everything at once! Which is why I haven't done as much painting just lately. Suddenly there's an urgency to plant gardens, straighten up the yard, etc. And I finally received a long-awaited check from Ford that's enough to pay to get my art studio drywalled, a skylight installed and new lighting. My current "hot" task is to move everything out from the front half of the studio so the drywalling can begin.

I know: excuses, excuses! I've been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to get as much done as possible, enjoying life like there's no tomorrow. I really wanted to paint something yesterday. The lakeshore would have been gorgeous, but horribly cold and windy. The weather was very changeable: overcast, dark and rain-threatening one minute, clear blue skies the next. Relentless winds, too. I'd be hot one minute and freezing the next. Throw in some hot flashes & it was maddening.

The first trees to bloom on my property this year are the two plum trees. They've been covered in tiny white blooms (and bees) for the past couple days. I set up my easel out in the field and painted this view. Throughout much of this painting, I wasn't sure if I could pull it off. Painting orchards in bloom is tougher than I'd imagined.

Thank goodness my hat has a chin strap on it -- the wind was very gusty and my hat would have probably blown all the way to Charlevoix!

"Macintosh" -- plein air field study -- oil on stretched canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

For the longest time I'd been noticing there is a certain variety of apple tree up here that has beautiful pinky-peachy tones on the branches. Apple orchards are everywhere up here, and I'd been meaning to set up my easel and paint one of these wonderful trees before the leaves and blossoms appear.

So yesterday afternoon I drove over to Friske's Farm Market, south of Charlevoix, on US 31, and asked if they minded if I painted on their property. It's always a good idea to politely ask a property owner's permission, I've found. Some people are quite touchy about somebody painting something of theirs -- even when you're merely standing on the road, not even touching their land!

Thank goodness I'd thought to bring along my Gore-tex jacket and windstopper gloves! It was about 60 degrees and sunny, but the wind ripping off Lake Michigan (about 1 mile west) was truly bone-chilling.

Smart apple-growers now keep the ground beneath the trees clear of weeds. The belief is that weeds compete for nutrients, resulting in lower apple yields. Friske's followed this practice, and underneath the trees was mostly moss. This time of the year the moss was a very interesting golden olive tone. In between the rows of trees they keep the grass neatly mowed.

As usual when I paint trees, what I love to see are the darker shadow shapes and the sunlit portions. The blue of the sky was reflected in places. Some of the branches reflected the blindingly bright light of the sun. It all depended upon their angle. It's this variation of reflected lights and shadows that give a tree painting a feel of 3-D.

I found out this tree is a macintosh.

Stay tuned for some "orchard in bloom" paintings. It might be another week or two before we see blossoms.

"Cal's Maples" -- plein air field study -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

This morning my friend Mike and I met at our friend Cal's house, just south of Charlevoix. He's got these giant, old maple trees in his front yard. As I drove up I saw these and knew I just had to paint them. The fall colors are starting up here. Some of the maples are fiery red, but some are still quite green. Old maple trees can get quite gnarly and weird-looking!

I'm still trying to get used to the new color palette I learned at Scott Christensen's workshop out near Jackson Hole. I really like the color range, but I think I will need to add a few colors to work here in Michigan in the fall.

Last fall I was occupied with packing and moving up here and had NO time to paint at all, so it's been a real treat to get out and paint.

"July Orchard" -- plein air field study -- 12x24" -- oil -- Margie Guyot

While the rest of the state was sweltering in 90 degree, humid weather, it was another glorious day up here in NW Michigan. I'd thought of going to the beach to paint but figured it would be noisy and crowded. So I stayed home and did a painting right in my own yard. The star thistle just started blooming this week (some call it spotted knapweed). It's a beautiful lavender flower and it's everywhere up here. There's also some small white flower for which I don't have the name. I love all the flowers. The golf-course look for lawns is preferred by some, but I love the wild look. Reminds me of a Persian carpet.

I bought this house and land last fall and with it came about 5 apple trees. While painting, I looked at the tree (in the left in this painting) and saw a hen turkey underneath. She had about 5 of her babies with her. She must have given a warning cluck to them and they all flew up into the tree, out of harm's way.

This weekend is a big festival up in Charlevoix, the Venetian Festival. Traffic is at a standstill up there. So you know I would make an effort NOT to go. After about 30 years fighting Detroit traffic, noise and pollution, I love the peace and quiet right here in my own backyard.

"Willows -- Boyne Falls" -- plein air oil study -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

After work at Tapawingo on Friday I had the urge to go painting. Even though I have a "gravy job", doing the table flower arrangements as a part-time job, I'm usually exhausted by the time I'm finished. I came home and fixed lunch and should have tried taking a nap, but of course just couldn't. I was just too excited to get out there and paint. Earlier in the week I'd driven by a beautiful little lake in Boyne Falls. I went back there and saw these beautiful willows.

But egads -- the wind! It was sort of like trying to paint in a hurricane! It got stronger and stronger as I painted. I was using my new Soltek easel, famous for its stability in high winds. It worked like a champ. But I had to keep one hand on my hat.

Constant wind can drive people mad, they say. Think of Vincent Van Gogh in the famous Mistral winds of France, trying to paint his famous scene of the crows in the wheat field. His last painting. By the time I finished this painting, I felt as if I'd been struggling with a pack of dogs tugging on my pant legs and sleeves. To make matters worse, it didn't take long to realize that this lovely-looking little park was right at a highly-traveled, noisy, polluted intersection. And it was rush-hour on a Friday night. In short, I was totally exhausted by the time this painting was done.

All was not lost, though. On the 25 mile ride home, I spied a nice clump of wild tansy on a little side road. Luckily, there was a spade and buckets in the back of my Explorer. Did a U-turn and went back and dug a few plants for my yard. And picked more Queen Ann's Lace for my arrangements at Tapawingo.

Turns out I left just in time. Right after digging the tansy, the rain started. It came down in buckets. All the little wildflowers needed it. A great way to end a Friday night!