I was as excited on Saturday when I found this flower as a prospector who finds a gold nugget. This is a flower I’ve often admired in books but never saw until that day, and it’s every bit as gorgeous as illustrated, although this sketch doesn’t do it justice. The name is very fitting since it is very gaudy. Later on I did a larger painting but even though the color of the flowers came out better, the composition did not. So now I have to remember where I found these and hope they show up again next year so I can try them again, since they were at the end of their blooming season on Saturday.
One of the interesting things about lupines is that the colors of the blossoms change after pollination. In the blue lupines the white disappears and the whole bloom becomes blue, and in this one the unpollinated blossoms have a yellow flag as a signal to insects, and after pollination the flag turns scarlet, which is a color hummingbirds can see, but most insects can’t see. It’s a very efficient way of telling pollinators where the nectar actually is and where they are wasting their energy. Here the bottom right flower still has a yellow flag while the bottom left and top right have turned scarlet. The top left is just beginning to turn scarlet. If I get a decent painting I’ll post it where the whole pollination color changes can be seen more clearly. I was in a hurry when I did this as the flower was wilting right before my eyes, as many wild flowers do as soon as picked.

This was done the same day I started my new Moly and in the same place, but it was painted on a Bockingford pale beige tinted watercolor paper. I like the lightly tinted paper instead of stark white for flowers. They are from left to right: California poppy, lupine, scarlet paintbrush, pennyroyal.

Oh blessed sun after all that rain! I was actually out painting flowers today but noticed this scene where I was sitting and couldn’t resist. It’s the first page in a brand new moly.

This is totally different for me and that’s because it’s an old contour drawing I found the other day which was done many years ago. In looking at it I still like it, although that doll used to freak me out because it looked just like a baby when my daughter had thrown it somewhere. I remember doing double takes many times. Anyhow, I used to do a lot of this type of contour drawing with sepia ink just for practice, and surprisingly I still really like most of them.

Often I place the flowers that I find growing together on the same page, like I did here. The Feather River Canyon is all in bloom now, and the lower in elevation one goes the more prolific the blooms are. These particular paintings also have no composition planning. I just place the flowers wherever I feel some balance is needed. Most of the time they turn out OK. Sometimes I make a mess and have to begin again.

I’m back doing what I like to do best—keeping a nature journal. The manzanita is a fascinating plant in that its leaves are fleshy towards the center and taper to a thin edge. So when a manzanita bush is backlit by the sun all the thin edges of every leaf glow and it’s a spectacular sight. And this time of year there are thousands of these little pink bells on the bushes, which the bees just love.
The tiny little Blue-eyed Mary is hard to see unless you look for it, but it’s one of my favorites. These are drawn pretty much life size.

Drove down the mountain and stopped at this waterfall where the flower show was in full swing with poppies and lupines.

These little buttercups, only about 3-4 inches high, grow in soggy meadows. Sure hope they survived today’s snow fall.

We call these generic little flowers “belly flowers” because you have to be on your belly to see them and only botanists know their names. None of them are more than 2 or 3 inches tall. So I spent time on my belly, including drawing an oak leaf that survived the winter, until I got too cold and wet.

These little pink/lavender numbers called a Sierra Shooting Star appear in the woods around my house every April, so that one hardly knows where to step, and when I walk the dog I try to dance around them so I won’t ruin them. After a whole winter of not doing any sort of art work at all they finally inspired me somewhat—but I didn’t finish because I got bored. Come to think of it, I sort of like it that way.