PineShoreStudio/Paintings by Helen Harris

pause  | pôz |  noun ...a temporary stop in action or speech. Wow! How appropriate is that for the time we live in right now? I seem to have taken this to heart in the studio this past week. I started and stopped a number of tasks. I'd head in one direction then find myself turned around in another. Confusion? No, I don't think so. I found my pause button and it was quickly followed by the question"why?"  My subject choice, palette, medium, the time spent or not spent in the studio, everything was on the table to be questioned and really examined. If anything, this pandemic and pause of our "normal" habits in our day, have caused me to really look at my day as an artist.  I have/had an exhibit at a library that opened just as the world shut down, not unlike many working artist. My work is still hanging, unseen and out of reach,  my website , Instagram and Facebook and eBay  are my "galleries" for now. What this pandemic did not pause was my creativ

I think of this blog as my Sunday morning check in. It is an arbitrary deadline because I usually don't wait to write it on that day. My thoughts bubble up throughout the week as I stand at my easel and paint. I jot down ideas, a word, describe an image, a lyric of a song. I pick up my pen or guitar as readily these days as I pick up my brush. Time has slowed and ideas that had no space are expanding. Words that have been banked in thought are being spent more freely. The notes long forgotten in my fingertips are picking out the basics once again. I am a student again. Reading and exploring the variety of skill lessons on the internet in so many subjects that I wonder at how narrow my focus had become as I aimed to meet that elusive "goal" in my own work. Sometimes it is just a glimpse of color, a phrase or a sound that has caught my attention and I'm off like a little kid once again looking for adventure....virtually. In a time where we are all forced to turn inward

It has been a difficult week...no, let me speak truthfully... it has been a heartrending, knee shaking, faith tested week. My studio has been my safe place to speak, virtually, in tear-filled words to friends and family, to hear the prayers of long ago and new found friends. This pandemic has touched us all, some directly and others indirectly. I have stared at palettes of dried color, flipped through art books blurred by tears. My well cared for brushes have stiffened in shared grief and my pencils broken by a grip of frustration and anger at a government unprepared and inept. I take deep breaths... be gentle my heart beats. Be kind and tender with yourself. Be ready to give the hugs and care for those that will need you in the weeks and months to come. I have no painting to offer this week but I wanted to share one in my collection. The artist is a life long friend, Penny, my anchor when the storms of life have tossed me off course. I gaze at her work and feel all the emotions tha

IDK. .I don't know...those words are repeated all day in every thought and conversation. It is the only answer that we all have right now. Too many opinions, theories and false information fill the air... I stand before an empty canvas, brush in hand but lowered by my side. I want my arms around my children and grandbabies for they are what fill my world with color. We each have our stories right now. I do....So we pray and cry,we laugh and bring hope. We try to find support and act together as a team through ZOOM, FaceTime and texting and calls. Finding  a way to reach out...to be together. FireStorm  I painted this abstract "FireStorm" many years ago. Again at a very difficult time in my life. This piece was one of the most spontaneous works that I have ever created. An emotional work, one of those crossroads that reaffirmed to me that my painting was my true path.  I rarely paint in abstract, it is not peaceful to me. The raw emotion is hard to face. My studio