The summer between my seventh and eighth grade years my father taught a landscape painting workshop as part of Appalachian Summer. I am sure there was a classroom part of the class but my memories are of the time we spent painting outside. I have incredibly clear recollections of a day by the duck pond, an afternoon sitting on the rocks at Howard’s Knob and another at an old farm out in the county somewhere. After a hot water heater leak a few years ago I went through and piles of old art work and found several examples of the paintings I did that summer. Most of them were obviously done by a child. The lines and shapes seem a bit choppy, but some the compositions were actually quite good. This I think is due to the fact that one of the first things Dad had us all do was take a piece of mat board and cut a rectangular window in it. These were our viewfinders and we took them with us on each excursion. Before we ever sketched a single line on our paper we would slowly move our rectangles around the landscape trying to find the perfect slice of the scene from among the limitless possibilities. It made a huge difference. It helped find the right image to start with, but also made sketching the initial lines simpler, and as the painting progressed it could be held up again and again to verify details of the scene.
I do not often think of the long ago course (could it really have been 30 years ago?) or the lessons I learned in it, but this past Saturday sitting drawing at Duke Creek Falls I realized I should still be trying to apply them. As I set on the steps leading down to observation decks I was overwhelmed by the view in front of me. Duke Creek Falls is not just one waterfall, it really is falls, plural. My eye did not know where to rest, and my first drawing reflects that. There is no focal point, no organization of the composition. It is confusing and lacks a sense of depth. If I had brought a viewfinder with me I think I would have done a much better job. My second drawing I tried to limit myself more, to focus in on one part of the falls. I even used my hands to make a little rectangle to try and plan what I would include. It is a more successful drawing compositionally. I am going to make myself a viewfinder this week and keep it in my hiking backpack. Hopefully next weekend’s drawings will be markedly improved.
But even though this past Saturday’s drawings were not among my best the walk itself was. Where Panther Creek and Raven Cliffs were true hikes, each several miles in with narrow and steep portions, Duke Creek has a wide and smooth walking path that is just a little over a mile long. There are stairs in the steep places and observation decks around the falls. There was only one other car in the parking lot when Max and I arrived. We made the whole walk down without seeing another soul. Until this week I had never heard of Forest Bathing, but I am in agreement with the adherents and researchers that “if a person simply visits a natural area and walks in a relaxed way there are calming, rejuvenating and restorative benefits to be achieved.”
When we arrived at the falls there was a couple there with their little dog, who was not fond of Max, so we explored around the observation decks a while. A large portion is blocked off because of storm damage. The spot where the tree came through the deck would have been the perfect place to sit and draw the dramatic view of the water finding many ways to come down the side of the mountain. If I had not had Max with me I might have sat there anyway. But even though I may be brave enough to climb over barriers and check out the damage I would not want to risk Max getting too close to the edge and falling off, and I wasn’t eager to get fussed at by a ranger either. I do not know if they enforce the $500 fine for getting off the trail, but I do not wish to find out. We took some pictures and then went back to the “safe” areas. The benches on the lower observation decks did not offer the views I wanted to draw. We ended up sitting on the stairs leading down to them which was very comfortable until other folks started arriving. Then we may have been in their way, but I just held Max close to me as they passed and no one complained. There were far fewer people than at either Raven Cliff or Panther Creek. I do not know if it was because the site is not as popular or because it is after Labor Day. I drew for about an hour and twenty minutes then we walked back up at a nice relaxing pace.
I also thought a fair amount about the fact that no one had any idea where I was or had any reason to miss me for the next 8 or 9 hours. I let my mind run through different disaster scenarios but did not feel scared at all. Thinking about the chance of something bad happening was actually a little exhilarating. I probably should not admit it, but I think I may have enjoyed myself more because of that awareness. If I had brought water, or was wearing proper footwear, I might have walked further, but I didn’t. I turned around and went home and tried to figure out how to write about the experience and failed.
muddy spots made me especially nervous. As slip in the mud, even one that did not lead to a fall, could give me back pain for weeks. I had been brave about the idea of a catastrophic fall, but a minor one that ended in a sore back, a twisted ankle, or God forbid another broken elbow was frightening. I did try to be cautious. I do not want to live in fear but I do not want to be reckless either.
I found a nice spot to sit on the rocks that was both comfortable and beautiful. The sound of the water drowned out all the sounds of the people below and I was able to spend over an hour drawing and writing. It felt so good. I only did one drawing, in ink, and it was not an excellent one. It lacks a focal point and tried to capture too much of my surroundings at once. But I guess that seems apt for the distracted way I find myself throwing myself through life right now. I know I need to focus. I just cannot seem to make a decision about on what. Until I figure it out walking to North Georgia’s waterfalls and trying to draw them seems like as good of a pass time as any.
ocusing my attention on creating my 
ent through it again and again, winnowing it down to the ones that got scanned. Once the images were in the computer I brought them into Illustrator one by one and carefully traced the lines as vectors. it tool an average of two hours per drawing. I listened to great audio books and podcasts while I worked. It is very rewarding to click back and forth between the layers and watch a sketchy, perhaps even ragged, drawing turn into a smooth consistent one. I must admit that being able to use the computer’s precision to find the “perfect” line in the midst of several penciled attempts gives me a thrill. The next step was to print, review edit, print, review, edit until each one seemed to be finished. Some got there fast. The swirly profile on the last page of the book needed no revising, others, like ‘Breezy’, needed to be almost completely reworked before they seemed right. When I shared my progress with friends and family everyone was supportive, but almost to a person they wanted to know what my marketing plan was. I kept answering that my first focus was to get the book finished. I was honestly worried that if I thought all t
