Showing posts from May, 2020

Sea Escapes...

Living by the shore changes one's heartbeat. The sound of the surf, the warmth of the sands, the smell of the breeze, have contributed to many paintings over the years. I'm a lake kid from upstate New York. Oceans came later in life. Much to my surprise, I currently have five seascapes in process in my studio. Obviously, I need to get away! As a painter this setting is a wealth of studies of rock, sand, grasses, birds, water and sky. Watercolor, mixed media, acrylic and oils. I've worked in all media for seascapes creating stormy seas crashing into rock and calm shoreline ripples against hot sands. Other than the work that is on my easel, they are all gone, connecting with the heartbeats of many of my collectors now. I do miss some of these paintings. Each was a moment in time in my life that was important enough to record. In an instant I recall that brush stroke, the choice of color to blend or torn paper to collage. After months of lock down in this pandemic, a wal

A Moment in Time...

Some paintings are simply moments caught in time. Seemingly unimportant and the image may not be grand but note the time spent with someone special in that location and gives that painting a story to hold in my heart. "The Culvert" was such a painting. I packed up a small kit and met my daughter, Jessie, for a morning walk near a lake. This was a rare opportunity for it was for us, alone, no children to walk or entertain, no spouses to divert attention. We walked the perimeter of this well worn path talking and finally stopped where we found our comfort, both verbally and with each others presence. Mother and daughter our roles of past, now adjusting to grandmother and mother. We talked of the children and spouses. I talked of shadows and light, of lines and perspective, of pencils and paint. Jessie, though she brought a sketch pad, let her poetry rise up and paint her thoughts and words. This casual walk along the lake, a painting and poem... pre pandemic, before our kn

Shadows and Light...

Shadow Falls  24"H x 12"W  ~ sold In painting I have chased the light but it was not until I painted shadow that I succeeded in its glow. The natural tendency was to simply paint in tones that were lighter and lighter though it just never reached the point of glowing that I looked for or envisioned. Try as I might it just wasn't there. Did it need more white pigment? Was it a different brush or paint brand? Was it painting at a different time of day? I ran through all of the "what if" and "how to" without success. I sat in the sun, I sat in the shadow... I walked in and out of the heat and coolness. I pushed my paint around the canvas until that day the light grew out of the darkness. It was understanding that the light and shadow are most impactful when each is at full strength! The lightest light can only exist juxtaposed to the darkest dark. I had to be "all in, committed to the extremes. Application of anything less resulted in a medioc

From a Mother's Heart...

                                     It is a Mother's Day as no other. There is no denying the extremes of emotion that will fill today. I have kept this quote on my desk for years...  "Mother is a verb. It's something you do  Not just who you are." -Dorothy Canfield Fisher So to my children, Stacy, Jessica and Lindsay, now all mothers too... May the day fall lightly on your hearts today... with all my love. mom

A Tube of Paint...

   If your paint tubes look like this today,what does it say about your time in the studio? It really does tell a story and after some thought you'll find it says a lot about your journey as a working artist.   There is great joy, expectation and excitement when a new tube of paint is in my hands. A gift of unpainted ideas yet to be uncapped, full with no squeeze indentations, clean rims and a cap easily removed. That first daub of rich, luxurious paint on my palette invites me to play. I remember when I first encountered this introduction. I was never timid but this made me pause. Do I approach this mound of delight with a cautious brush or slash delightfully through with a knife?  I tried both. Now years later, the memory still lingers and my smile is there but it has taken on various expressions.  I've become my own cheerleader as well as critic while in the aloneness of my studio. The vision has become fine tuned as the learning curve was navigated from stumbling amate