Give a Hoot!

"St. Agnes' Eve ... Ah, bitter chill it was. The owl, for all his feathers,  was     a-cold."

John Keats

There was a blizzard on New Year's Eve. My dad and I had worked hard during the day to give the livestock and poultry extra food, water, and straw bedding and shut the barn and out-buildings tight. Now it was New Year's Day. After the breakfast dishes were done, I had most of the day all to myself, with no school for a couple of days.  It was a foggy day, so I pulled my chair close to the window for additional light. I have always loved poetry and was reading Keats. I had just read the words above when a movement in a tree close to my window attracted my attention.  A great horned owl was settling itself on a branch at about my eye level.  How wonderful, I felt, the way that the words and the bird's arrival coincided!  We stared at and studied each other often during the day.  I came to feel that the two of us, from such different species, had forged a bond. We had shown interest in, and respect for, each other.  As I stood up, reluctantly, to set the supper table, the owl shook itself, gave a loud "hoot", and lifted away into the twilight.

This post will feature owls — real and imaginary — and will show art-work, provide patterns, and hopefully produce a few chuckles with some "improbable" owls.

But there is also another reason for this issue. I listened to a very impressive high school student whose message was: "We can all do SOMETHING for others during these troubling times!"  Then he set about recruiting others to do just that.  As a senior citizen who has been  "sheltering-in-place" for 12 months, dependent on others, that statement really resonated with me!  So J.D. and I made lists of things which might have helped us or others like us, and we will include some of them between the art and craft projects. We ask those of you who read this post to consider something from one of our lists or one that you make for yourself. Thank you!

Here is a little owl I made back in 2014.  The pattern is to make him in cross-

stitch, but the photo is of the same design in needlepoint.

J.D.: If you "give a hoot" about helping out house-bound people this winter, here are some things you might do: 

• Clear snow and ice from sidewalks.
• Walk dogs.
• Rake leaves.
• Roll trashcans to the curb and put them away when empty.
• Run errands.
• If you have a car, provide transportation.
• Just stop by occaisionally, in a safe socially distanced way, to check on their welfare.

In a previous post we started a series on background designs. This owl shows how body parts can be indicated by using background designs similar to those we showed in that post.  Colors need not be realistic.  Make them as vivid or as subtle as you wish.

Owls don't have to be confined to needlework. They can be produced in any number of crafts Here is one done in stained glass, one that is a metal candle lantern, and a sterling silver pin with opal triplets set in.

Owls are one of my favorite animals for making into puppets.

Two variations on the owl puppet pattern

Annake: Here are some more thoughts on "Giving a hoot":

• Women of my generation still like to write letters and send actual greeting cards, not virtual ones.  Donate notepaper, greeting cards, envelopes, pens that really write, or a few stamps.
• Call frequently to see how the person is getting along,  ask how you can help, and take the time to chat for a few minutes.
• Listen carefully to what the person has to say, checking for signs of distress or confusion.
• Prepare a casserole that can be reheated or a dessert that can be refrigerated for several days.
• Keep track of the person's appointments and remind them.
• Make a scrapbook about something the person loves — scenes, flowers, wildlife, sports, etc., from magazines and calendars.
• Offer to care for pets or plants if the person has to be away for a few days.

This is an owl originally done in Spanish black-work on checked gingham.  It can be stitched just as well on a plain even-weave fabric like monks' cloth or Aida or done in needlepoint.  Click on the pattern to download it.

Click here to download the blackwork pattern.

While looking over our black-and-white prints, we found that we had never published a photo of our barn owl print, shown here. Because of their distinctive shapes and upright postures, owls make good subjects for artwork.

       

Those same attributes make them easy to do as readily recognizable cartoons or nature drawings.  It is even possible to do semi-abstract renderings.  Here are a couple of sketches friends made for me which used very different techniques.

Original sketches from Annake's personal collection

Click here to download

Finally, here is a pattern that could be done in a number of techniques of your choice.  Click on the pattern to download it.

The owls we have used are primarily just for fun, but there are two serious ideas here.  One is the idea of helping others because you "give a hoot". The other is that large numbers of our native birds are declining in numbers, including owls.  I used to hear a pair of great horned owls calling to each other on summer nights while they hunted up and down the nearby alleys, but I have not heard them for several years.  We need to do all we can to protect the wild birds, and do it NOW.

Still waiting for Spring,

A gift from J.J., a little owl shelf hanger

 This post by Annake's Garden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Something Fishy

Recently J D. pointed out that I had done a number of sketches, designs, and pieces of needlework involving fish and other water-dwelling creatures, and that perhaps I should "do something" with them. Without giving the matter much serious thought, I replied that I might do a post called "Something Fishy".  I hadn't given the project much thought, until he later asked what I had done about it.  I said I had to think about fish before I write about them. I got a long look with a seriously raised eyebrow in reply. "I'm thinking!"  I said. His expression suggested that I just might think a little faster.  So when, I thought, did I first get interested in fish? (Isn't memory a strange thing?) And there was the memory, as vivid as if I were watching it on a screen.

Bluegill

It was the summer before I turned seven. It was a hot, dry summer.  Our well had not run dry, but there was already talk abut hauling water for the livestock from an artesian well in the next township. (We did not have electricity, running water, central heat or indoor plumbing, if you can picture that.) We did have a cistern to catch rainwater, but it had gotten so low that we had already hauled enough water from a spring at the back of the property to refill it. I volunteered to go to the bottom of our big hill and see how the creek that ran there was faring. The creek was no longer running. There were a few pools of water that were rapidly evaporating. In the largest pool I found three colorful fish lying on their sides, just barely alive.

Crappie

 I raced to the top of the hill. Charlie, a teen-aged cousin, was staying with us for a couple of weeks. "Charlie," I cried, "We have to save the fish!" Once he understood, he agreed.  We dipped a couple of buckets of the water from the cistern and hurried back down the hill. We carefully lifted the fish from their puddle and hurried to relocate them in the cistern. My dad had been attracted by the commotion. He was a hunter and trapper as well as a farmer, but not much of a fisherman. He identified the fish for us: bluegill, crappie (pronounced croppie), and sunfish. He suspected they came originally from the Wabash River, to which our creek was distantly connected, and mentioned that all three were tasty.   Charlie and I both protested that we hadn't saved their lives just to turn around and eat them!

Green Sunfish

Dad agreed good-naturedly and we three set about catching flies, mosquitoes, earthworms, any any other handy tidbits to feed the fish. We kept that up for two more days, between chores. And then Nature relented and produced a spectacular thunderstorm and two full days of rain, through which we slogged to care for the livestock. We carried the fish back to the creek and released them. They swam away in three different directions, apparently anxious to end their forced association.

 

Tropical fish needlepoint

A couple of decades later I was the head of a science department in a junior high school in northern Virginia. One of our favorite field trip destinations was the National Aquarium in Washington  D.C., which was then housed in the Department of Commerce Building. By that time I had flown back and forth across the Atlantic, seen the coast of Newfoundland, gotten acquainted with the North Sea from Holland, and gotten a glimpse pf the Irish Sea, but I hadn't seen the creatures that lived in those waters. So I also visited the National Aquarium on my own, content to sit for hours. sketching or just watching the infinite variety of fish. Those are also good memories. But, like today, those were turbulent times, and eventually we were forbidden to take field trips into D.C. because of the dangers from riots. Perhaps it is that memory that has been what has turned my eyes and hands to depictions of fish recently.

When you are showing a fish like this, its shape and colors make it stand out. Then you are left with the problem of what to do with all that background around it. You can, of course,  just paint or stitch a flat background in a single color, as if the fish were stuffed and mounted, but that isn't very interesting. I prefer to at least suggest the water through which the fish is swimming.  This is the simplest way to do that. Just use several closely related shades of blue in the watery background, varying the concentration of of each shade so that the water doesn't look like it has stripes.

Rough pattern for oscar needlepoint

This is a color sketch for an Oscar. Oscars are cichlids,  freshwater fish originally from South America, which have now been established in parts of Asia and Australia. These fish have become very popular for personal aquariums. Many are smaller than this one, which is depicted (on an 8.5" x 11" sheet) at about the size limit You can feel free to make the fish in any color scheme you like. If there isn't one like it in captivity, no doubt one will be discovered — or bred — sometime soon. There are multitudes of color photos online if you want to do a realistic rendering. I 'squared-off' some features in order to make a needlepoint picture of the fish which I worked on a standard canvas.

 

Oscar needlepoint

I chose to put my fish in shallow water, lit from above with sunlight, and to surround it with suggestions of different species of water plants. Their unusual colors and patterns, despite their brightness, break up the fish's outline and provide good camouflage.  Some species can also change color to some extent. It is a hunter and has even been described lying flat on one side and "playing dead" to attract its prey. In aquariums they are usually fed crustaceans, earthworms, insects and specially prepared mixtures that are designed to be fed to much larger carnivorous fish.

My memory served up another delight. We were living in Idaho at the time. My husband had some leave time, so we had gone to a weekend affair in the Grand Tetons. We both liked to fish, but he wouldn't eat the fish so we went to "catch and release" before it was even popular. We always had fishing gear in the back of the van, even when we weren't pulling the boat. So we decided to stop at a reservoir on the way home to see how fast the ice was melting.  There was about a three foot stretch of open water, so we took our gear and started along the embankment. We met a lone fisherman and he and my husband started talking. I moved on quite a way ahead of them.

Brown trout

The water was as clear as glass. I could see a big brown trout — my favorite trout — on the bottom. I had a small red and white lure with a lot of action to it on my line, so I dropped it gently on the surface some distance ahead of the brown and started twitching it every few seconds.  I watched him come up from the bottom, opening his mouth wide as he hit the lure.  I set the hook. He fought me the short distance to the shore. My shout as I lifted him out of the water brought the two men running.  The brown was indeed a beautiful fish.  He wasn't badly hooked, and was soon freed. I took him back to the edge and eased him into the frigid water, watching him until he disappeared under the ice.  It was one of those small, perfect moments that you remember forever.

I am often asked for border designs for embroidery, and so have used several in this article. I hope you will find them useful. These are designed for linear stitches like outline and chain stitches. The figures can all face one direction or be used in face-to-face positions alternating with tail-to-tail pairs.

But counted cross-stitch and needlepoint can also be used for larger panels and borders. Here is a segment of a repeatable design that can be done in either of those techniques. If you are going to do needlepoint on a fabric background, use the kind of canvas that is designed to be pulled out when the design is completed and don't pull your stitches so tight that the canvas threads cannot be removed. If this technique is new for you, I recommend you practice on a piece of the canvas and fabric before you undertake a larger composition. Check the work from time to time to make sure your stitches are not getting tighter as you go along, because that is an easy mistake to make.

Fishing can, of course, be frustrating, especially when the fish aren't biting.  But I remember one occasion when it was frustrating because the fish was biting. No, that is not an error in grammar. Let me explain.  It was during the time when we were stationed in Panama. My husband wanted to try fishing from a solitary dock on the Pacific side of the Isthmus. I went along to keep him company. It was a nice

Tiny, spiny puffer fish

day and I was enjoying watching the water birds skim and dive to do their fishing.  My husband was not getting any action. Finally he got a strong tug on his line. The fish put up a good fight, but he finally brought it in. Much to his dismay, it was a small puffer fish that had swallowed enough water to become the size of a football. There are quite a number of these species in tropical and sub-tropical waters. This was one of the kind that, when inflated, was covered with sharp spines poking out of its skin in all directions and was able to deliver a poison if handled improperly.*  He put on heavy gloves and freed the fish from the hook. It was obviously not the first time it had been hooked because it had a distinct scar on one side of its jaw. He took it to the far end of the dock and dropped it back into the water. Twenty minutes or so later, he got another strike and reeled in the fish. He groaned, "It's another one!" "No," I said, pointing to the scar, "it's the same one." He decided that the third time had to be the charm he needed.  Another twenty minutes. Another strike.  Same fish. (I really thought it looked ashamed that time, but it was probably just water-logged.)  My husband announced that since there was apparently only one fish left in the water that the birds hadn't eaten, we might as well go home.  So we did.  And I managed not to laugh once, at least not out loud.

*Not all puffer fish produce the potentially deadly tetrodotoxin, but, if you encounter one, it is probably best to assume that it does. The toxin is also found in other fish like porcupine fish, triggerfish, and ocean sunfish, snails and other mollusks,  some crabs and sea urchins.  On land, it is found in some newts, toads, and frogs. The deadliest carrier of the toxin is the blue-ringed octopus.

Panama Canal. Pacific end

The Panama Canal has caused a lot of problems for local populations of fish and other aquatic or marine creatures. Pacific species, long held back by the unbroken shoreline, invaded the Atlantic Ocean and Atlantic species did the same thing to the Pacific Ocean. These transfers, no longer in a controlled environment, affected not only the species themselves, but also the organisms which ate them or were eaten by them. Some species have disappeared completely and some of the "foreign" species have spread widely, affecting areas a long distance from the Canal itself.

Seahorse drawing by Annake

Here is a big drawing of a very small fish. I think that if I had to choose just one kind of fish to study and draw it would be the seahorses and the related — and even stranger — sea dragons.  These are among the most fascinating of sea creatures, both in appearance and in habits.  many people don't even realize that they are fish.

But there are many species of sea creatures on tropical coral reefs, under the polar ice, and at the bottom of the seas that are little known or understood, if they have even been discovered. And many of them are in danger of extinction before they have even been studied.  The effects of climate change have been magnified and multiplied by our failure to understand and protect the lives of these creatures, many of whom have survived millions, even billions, of years of planetary changes before we ever existed.  The damage that has been done to both freshwater and saltwater habitats in just the past couple of centuries is appalling.  However, I am greatly encouraged by the growing interest among teenagers and young adults in combating these problems. They are taking a global approach toward the problems and are prepared to work cooperatively to overcome them.  I hope all of us will get behind their efforts and support them in any way we can.

Stay well. Stay safe.  Stay positive.

 

This post by Annake's Garden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Ships at Harbor: Seascapes in Needle Arts, Part IV

Claude Monet,  fishing boat at anchor at Rouen

A painting, whether super-realistic or abstract is made up of shapes. To be interesting, the shapes should have rhythm, variety, and an element of surprise or unpredictability. That's quite a balancing act!  Rhythm implies repetition; too much repetition is boring and the viewer loses interest.  Variety suggests a collection of differing shapes, but this may be confusing or even irritating to the viewer.  (Haven't you ever seen clothing or upholstery material that you felt was too ‘busy’ for your taste or been in a room that was so cluttered that you didn't feel comfortable in it?)  Surprise means something unexpected introduced into the scene, but it probably should not be something so incongruous that it takes a viewer's mind completely away from the picture as a whole.

Claude Monet, sailboats

Look at the harbor scene above and notice how well the artist has used his shapes.  See how the strong vertical shapes of the masts and the fainter diagonals of the rigging rhythmically break up the horizontal areas of the water, the line of trees, and the passive sky with its barely suggested clouds. The shapes and colors of the boats' hulls add variety, as do the ripples that break up the mass of the water and provide a second area of rhythm.  The bright white sails of the boat in the background give us that element of difference and focus our attention.  The artist was Claude Monet, leader of the Impressionist movement. Although he is not known primarily for marine paintings, he did a number of them. (Another one of his is shown at the top of this article.) He was fascinated by the effects of light on water and continued to use them in his paintings throughout his entire career.

Sketch of an approaching storm, by Annake

There are some generalizations that we can make about shapes and areas in a composition (always remembering that rules are made to be broken.)  The large horizontal areas of sea and sky are generally considered as negative spaces and passive shapes unless something active, like a storm, plays out against them. In the preliminary sketch to the right, the clouds and the wavelets beginning to form on the surface of the water are active, carrying the energy of the fast-approaching storm. Vertical and diagonal shapes are generally considered to be active and positive.  Something like a tree is more "active" than a nearby boulder.  If a scene is dominated by horizontal areas and vertical shapes or lines, diagonal shapes like the white sails on the boat are often added to the scene for contrast. Curved shapes like rolling hills are more passive; turbulent curved waves or breakers are very active.  Too many passive shapes can make a composition seem dull, even though it is attractive in other ways.

Rule of Thirds grid tool

An arc can be a powerful shape in a composition, particularly if it is at the edge of a point of interest, such as one of the focal points where the "Rule of Thirds" applies.  This plastic overlay, which we showed first in Part V of the Landscape series, works just as well for seascapes as it does for landscapes. We show it here the portrait position (in contrast to the landscape position we presented the first time). If you have not yet made this handy tool, now is a good time to do so.  You only need a sheet of clear plastic, a ruler or other straight edge, and a marking pen. Divide the plastic sheet into thirds, both vertically and horizontally, and mark the four points of intersection. Your primary point of interest in a composition should be at or near one of these points.  A secondary point of interest, if you include one, should be at or near the point diagonally across from the primary one.

A shape that may be interesting by itself can get lost in, and be neutralized by, other shapes unless it is supported by color and contrast.  If a shape that you are using is distracting from, or not contributing to, your composition, try moving it. If that doesn't work, remove it. This is especially true if you are doing a composition in applique. Before you stitch anything to a background,  be sure that the shapes that you have chosen to cut out are really contributing to the design.  When you are satisfied with the arrangement, pin it in place and check it one more time before you begin to stitch. View it from a distance as well as at close range. If you decide that a piece isn't right after you have sewn it in place you may be unwilling to remove it, even though it weakens the design.

I know that some of you are concentrating on lakeside or riverside scenes, rather than true seascapes. You can certainly put sailboats, motorboats, rowboats — even rafts and inflatables — into those compositions to give variety and points of interest that counterbalance the landscape and water.

Claude Monet, "The Bridge at Argenteuil"

Here is another Monet painting, obviously portraying an inland waterway, which may give you some ideas. Notice how the boats cover the primary point of interest at the lower left (when the plastic overlay is in the horizontal position), while the towers on the bridge are close to the secondary point of interest, diagonally at the upper right. The bridge itself moves away in a slightly diagonal line, and the arches and reflections introduce another rhythm. A more passive rhythm is created by the variety of shade trees in the background.  The other building in the scene occupies a place close to the point of interest on the upper left, but is less "positive" than the other two.

It is all too easy to get so interested in the smaller positive or "active" features of your composition that  you neglect the larger negative or "passive" parts of it. But they are equally important to the success of your design. You have just seen me making shapes and I have emphasized the importance of their arrangement for applique projects. They are also important for embroidery projects where the background fabric(s) will show between the areas of embroidery.  In my tapestry work I often do three-dimensional, even padded, stitching on top of a background of tent stitch or other essentially flat stitches, so I'm always planning my backgrounds first. Here is a simple technique that I use when I am working on an unpainted canvas. I have used it successfully as a teaching technique with school-age children as well as older students.

Examples of materials needed for the exercise

First collect all the colored paper that you can find: stationery, poster paper, wrapping paper, tissue paper, colored newspaper advertisements, etc. You will need scissors and a glue stick or other adhesive. Cut a piece of heavy paper, poster board, or cardboard in the size and shape that you want for your final design. Work first with the two large ares of your seascape. Will the sky be light blue, bright blue, dark blue, light gray, dark gray, or sunset colors? Cover the area you have designated as sky with the appropriate colored paper. Do the same thing with the part of the picture that you have reserved for the sea. When you are satisfied with the proportions of these two areas, glue them to the background.

Think about ways that might make these areas more interesting. Can you put in tall, impressive clouds or sweeping, diagonal ones? Is there an island or headland in the area where sea and sky meet? Is it rocky, with hard shapes, or soft and rounded? Is it grass-covered or does it have trees?  Are the tress broad-leaved trees, evergreens, or palms (each has a different outline)? What is at the bottom of your picture? Rocks, a sandy beach, a jetty? Cut pieces of paper in the shapes and colors of the appropriate features and place them on your background, but do not glue them to the background.

Mock-up of a background using cut shapes

Now cut out the positive, active features that you planned your composition around. Position your pieces where you think they will be most effective.  Again, do not glue them to the paper. Then reconsider the shapes you put in during the second stage of this process.  If the pieces do not contribute to the design, move them. If they still don't help, remove them. Glue in place the features of this group that you want to keep. Now reconsider the entire composition.  Are your positive pieces completing the design the way you intended? When they are doing that, glue them in place.

Congratulations! Now you have a good "working model" and are ready to begin creating with your choice of materials.

Keep up the good work!

Claude Monet, Regatta in Argenteuil

 This post by Annake's Garden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Out to Sea, In to Shore, and Along the Shore: Seascapes in Needlework, Part 2

Lake shoreline or ocean coastline?

Before we begin our new topic, I would like to address two questions that I am frequently asked. The first is "Can I take what I'm learning about seascapes and use it for lakes?"

In most cases, the answer is a resounding "Yes!" This is particularly true if you have access to a large lake. I can assure you that Lake Michigan during a storm is as awesome as the ocean!  You will not get the same wave forms and breakers that you would see on a seacoast, nor the large tidal differences. Sunrises, sunsets, fog and storms over lakes can be quite dramatic, however. and can be treated in the same way as those at sea.  A solitary fisherman can provide as dramatic a silhouette as strollers on a beach.  Boats of all kinds, docked or in motion, are always interesting. Lakes are also a good place for wildlife sightings, particularly of migratory birds. We had moose reintroduced to our area a few years ago and I'm hoping for a good sighting soon. By all means apply the principles you learn to lakes as well as the ocean. This photograph could be either a lake scene or an ocean one.

The second question, phrased in many ways, refers to the amount of planning I recommend before actually starting an art needlework project. Unlike painters, fiber artists (needlepointers, rug makers, quilters, weavers, embroiderers) cannot "paint over" areas of our work. Removing stitches is tedious and time-consuming and always runs the risk of damage to the underlying canvas or fabric. It is wise to work out as many details as possible before putting in that first stitch. (My favorite paint medium is watercolor, which is not as easy to modify or correct as some others, so I learned early to plan before I began.)  This is just a practical reason for pre-planning.

But there are many more advantages to planning.  Planning forces you to think about what you want to do.  You must really look at the scene, animal, flower, or other subject you want to depict in needlework. Then you have many individual decisions that you need to make. What is the function of the piece — rug, picture, decorated clothing, table linens, etc.? How large will it be when it is finished?  Will it need matting, framing, backing, edging? What is the style — realistic, stylized, cartoonish, geometric, abstract? Will you need to transfer the design to your canvas or fabric? Are you following a chart, or just working "free hand"? What is the color scheme? What materials will you need and how much of each one? What tools will you need? Do you have what you need on hand or must you buy some things? Make a shopping list. Once you have resolved all these questions, you will be able to begin your work with confidence and enthusiasm because you know your planning has been thorough.

Now back to seascapes!  Seascapes can be planned in three main ways. The first of these is to look outward from the land to the sea. This is what we concentrated on in the first part of this series. The second is to look at the shore from the sea. We used one of J.J.'s photographs as a basis for demonstrating "gesture" in art. Let's remove the directional lines and look at the picture underneath.

Florida shoreline, photo by J.J.

The city almost appears to float on the calm waters! Look at the clarity of the reflections of the buildings. Here is the scene as part of a larger panorama.

Panorama of shoreline, as originally shot

Whenever your scene includes a large portion of land, not just rocks that the sea is breaking over, you have a number of decisions to make. I am going to give you two simple sketches of a cove to illustrate this point. The sketches are identical except for one thing — the position of the sketch on the background.  Please feel free to copy both sketches and develop them as you choose. I've made them very simple so that you can do that.

Simple sketch, cove at bottom

In this sketch the cove is dominated by the sky, which occupies the top half of the background.  Is the sky sunny or cloudy? Are the clouds fair-weather clouds or storm clouds? Is it sunrise, midday, or sunset? Is there anything besides clouds in the sky — a flock of migrating birds, perhaps, or colorful hot-air balloons? Is the cove just barren rocks? Is there a lighthouse on the point? Are there buildings? Are there boats anchored in the cove? Is the sky reflected in the water? You will need a balance between light and dark features. If the sky is light, how are you going to balance it by making the cove darker — or the other way around? What are you going to do with the small strip of foreground that is at the bottom of the sketch, closest to the viewer? Make your choices and indicate them with colored pencil, crayon,  marker or pastel. Features will be small, so you need not put in a great deal of detail unless you want to do so.

Never underestimate the value of so-called "neutral' colors like beiges, tans, and the whole array of grays. Wet things — earth, sand, rocks, ropes, fishing nets — dry and lighten in color as they do so. Mixing strands of neutral floss or yarn into the "wet" colors or gradually lightening areas with closely related neutrals make such transitions look more natural and believable.  An exposed rock, for example, may be considerably paler at the top, where it has dried, than it is at the bottom, where it is still wet.

Simple sketch, cove at top

This time the sky is much less visible and plays very little part in the composition. The cove itself takes "center stage". But now that little strip of foreground that you could almost ignore in the first sketch takes up nearly half of the visual space in this one. Is the cove now the site of a village or a simple ridge of rock that the sea, surging in from the right, will break over?  Is there a solitary fisherman standing hip-deep in the water/ A fishing net caught on the rocks? Is the foreground a part of the same rock formation, also battered by the sea? Is it a high elevation looking down on the scene below? Is beach grass growing on it? Are gulls coming in for a landing? Is it a stretch of sheltered beach where someone has built a sand castle? How are you going to balance the lights and darks this time?

Monochrome picture of breaking surf

A complex lakeshore photo by J.J

For those of you working on lake scenes instead of seashores, you can easily modify the cove sketches. You may want to visualize trees along the point above the cove  — hardwood trees in autumn foliage, perhaps, or darker evergreens.  What else might you include? Canoes instead of fishing boats? A bear teaching her cubs to fish? The tents of campers? Snow falling softly? Ducks, geese, swans or other migratory birds in the water?

Grass blades, plant foliage, tree leaves, even evergreen needles eventually surrender their colors as the seasons of their lives come to an end. Showing their natural colors replaced with darker or more muted tones gives them a liveliness and reality in a composition that they would not otherwise possess. Take beach grasses for example. Even when the grasses die at the end of summer, their complex root systems serve to hold both the dead plants and the sand itself in place against the influences of wind, rain, and snow. If you are adding grassy dunes to your seaside composition, ask yourself if the green in the grass comes from new plants taking hold among the old ones or from hold-outs losing ground to the coming winter. The answer can set the tone for the whole composition — and determine the color scheme as well. Which brings us to the third way of composing a seascape — looking along the beach or seaside itself, while sea and sky act as  "accessories" to complete the picture. This scene of beach grass and sand is a good example of what I mean.

Earlier I mentioned balancing dark and light in a composition. This doesn't mean that you should divide your design down or across its middle and make one half dark and the other half light. It does mean that if, for example, you have a light sky above dark water, you should have at least a small amount of dark tones in the light area (perhaps patches of deep blue sky between white clouds), and lighter tints in the dark area (perhaps white foam on the water or light-colored sand on the beach). It also means that if you have a large dark or light area or object at the center of your composition, you should have a smaller area of similar lightness or darkness close to one edge of the composition. Think about a see-saw. How does a large adult balance a small child on a see-saw? By moving closer to the center, while the child remains at the other end of the board. Try to make a composition that has some alternating light and dark areas. You may find that this is the most satisfying solution to the light/dark balance problem.

"Cascades," a mixed needle arts picture demonstrating many of the points above

I have given you a lot of ideas to consider. I'm sure you can think of many more.  Experiment. Play with your choices. When you have considered the alternatives and when you have a combination that pleases you, begin the planning process. Then get busy and make that composition!

And start thinking of yourself as a fiber artist in the making!

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