It's Wide Open Now

It's wide open now.  My blog, that is.  Could be painting or it could move into another realm altogether, such as knitting, quilting, weaving -- even gardening when spring comes round again!

I have decided that this blog, as was originally intended, would be my space to explore and to share with others.  It should not be a space to sell my work.  I already have a website for my formal portfolio.  That is enough.  And I do not intend to immerse myself for hours on end between Facebook, Twitter and more blogs. After all, most fellow bloggers that I've come to know over the years are artists.  So it is sort of preaching to the apostles, as the saying goes. 

What have I been doing these past weeks to relax and find the joy once again?  Returning to the terrain of fiber in its many forms -- knitting, quilting, a little weaving.  Just trying to find a quiet space somewhere in the midst of this holiday madness.  Here's my latest attempt -- knitting cables.  Scary stuff, to me anyway.  I'm making neck muffs for my daughters using a Norah Gaughan pattern from Berrocco:

and big beautiful yarns by Gedifra, heathered and textured like a Highland moor --

I just have to finish off the edges, add some funky buttons and voila!  It's so good to feel something "grow" under your fingers; also to feel the rhythm of the needles and the yarn. 

So it may be art next week; maybe something else.  I can't guarantee anything.  Life is too short to limit oneself, and there's so much to explore, even the small, seemingly insignificant counts. 

I hope you'll stay with me and visit now and then.  But if you don't, that's o.k., too.

Between Sky and Water

A Clearing in the Distance

oil on canvas

8x10

Now that the vivid colors of autumn and summer have faded, drifting into piles of leaves and such, the subtle beauty of gray November days is here. It seems as if the light has changed, softened. And there is a paucity of distracting elements when looking out upon the landscape -- the crowds at the beaches have disappeared, only random dog-walkers, lovers and retirees wander across the sands.  The skies seem more vast, true vistas rather than just blank, blue sky. Scudding clouds roil and tumble, nudging the watery sunlight here and there.

This small painting will be in the Aetna corporate show in a few weeks. I've decided, for organizational purposes, to follow a theme, something I've never had a chance to do before.  Realms of Sky and Water is what I've decided to call it.

This is the smallest piece (8"x10") with the larger works coming in at about 24" x 30."  I like the fact that I've returned to painting landscapes although I do love abstract also.  Maybe it's a seasonal thing, but I feel as if late autumn affords the painter the last opportunity before the snows arrive and blanket everything in white (and we spend hours shoveling) --

After this show I think it will be time for a rest and to kick back and enjoy the coming holidays.  I hope you all enjoy Thanksgiving (for those who celebrate it) and the holidays that follow shortly thereafter!

Getting to know Pastels

A Gray Stillness with Pines

It's been a long time coming, my getting to know pastels. A kind of last frontier, you could say. I've written about this before -- the dust, the white shorts, the sense of clumsiness and frustration.

It's not that we all don't try to extend ourselves beyond the comfort zones we've come to know and love. It's just that, for me, there has always been this sense of embarrassment.  I think in today's society, we tend to believe that "if I think it" or "if I study it" long enough, I have mastered it. Reminds me of the Holiday Inn Express commercial: because you stayed there, you are now capable of performing brain surgery or running a touchdown for Notre Dame. Pretty funny but probably truer than at first glance.

For several years now I've visited and admired other pastel artists' sites and blogs, marveling in the rich mixtures and nuances of pastel painting -- Casey Klahn is one in particular, another is Debora L. Stewart's abstract pastels.  So I decided that whenever I travel, I will take this little box of pastels and a small 5" x 7" Strathmore Visual Journal sketchbook with me. Nothing can melt. Nothing is wet and sloppy. No squeezing tubes or dealing with smelly pseudo-turps. Here's what I've discovered (as if no one else has ever -- ha!):

pastels are immediate and they offer deep rich color or delicate mists --

they are fun to smudge -- like being back in the sandbox --

one is often tempted to eat them they are so yummy-looking (but I wouldn't recommend that -- every time you burp, you'd be sending out puffs of colored pastel dust) --

pastels seem to love the smooth surface of bristol paper --

spraying fixative really does work -- I've always been a skeptic of rules and guidelines --

yes, pastels are messy but a pack of baby wipes does wonders (and smell so good) --

So I think I have found my travel medium, my most satisfying sketch medium -- and maybe someday I'll progress to paintings on a larger scale.  But one step at a time.  For now, I've moved beyond the messy white shorts stage -- finally.   Here are some sketches I did last weekend in my travels up to the last big quilt show up in northern New England:

Glow on the River

Road into the Berkshire Mountains