Serendipity

My last post talked about life being an adventure. Believe me if I tell you that the cure for a humdrum life can be plein air. It has been for me.

Because I like to learn all I can about my passion, I attend PACE (Plein Air Convention and Expo) each chance I can. This year it was in San Francisco. I loved it. It was everything that you could hope for such an event to be. We tried to paint the Golden Gate Bridge, but she had a case of the willies and kept hiding in the fog. No matter, I got to practice fog! We painted in Golden Gate Park! And there I had the surprise of my trip.

Those of you who were at the event probably heard me talk about it. I painted at Stowe Lake. It was a beautiful place...seagulls flying past, walkers stopping by to wonder what the heck I was doing,  photographers with all manner of lenses probably costing as much or more than my first car, the whole world seemed to come by this quiet corner of the park. And it had an open parking spot!  My big ticket requirements were all ticked off! So I spent a lovely time painting a quiet introspective part of the park. Suddenly it was time to go. The light had changed and it was getting more atmospheric with each passing moment.

Peaceful Flight
Oil on Linen Panel
7x11 Available

I threw all my things in the car, taking care to not get paint all over the inside of the vehicle. Suddenly a voice behind me tried to get my attention. I turned and thought "oh no, here comes one of those weirdos one hears about in the parks of San Francisco." But wait this person looked very clean cut and was respectful, so maybe this wasn't one of those incidents. As he tried to hand me his phone he said "I have something to show you.'" Oh oh, spidey sense up again! But what he was trying to tell me was that he had taken a picture of me painting the scene and wanted to know if I would like to have it. Wow!
Aside from my round appearance, it was a pretty good picture, so I offered my business card with a request that he email it to me. Upon which it was his turn to be amazed. My new acquaintance said "You're not a Sackett?!!" I said I have been for 51 years! this man reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card... Mark Sackett! Holly cow! What the heck are the chances in a city this size to run into someone with the same family name? Especially a name that is not THAT common. Well the painting was not that special. I don't get a chance to paint water that often in New Mexico so I am rusty. But this painting is my reminder that life is an adventure and even when you least expect it you just might run into some long lost relative. He was a very pleasant person and I thank him for the one memory that I shall always have that makes a visit to a very large city a wonderful memory.

Back in the hotel one of my roomies asked if I always had such a weird life. I think it was simply serendipity. That's what it was. If I had not gone to PACE, if I had not gone painting....the French have a saying 'tant pis', too bad,

Life Is An Adventure

Getting in the car is an adventure. Going to the store is an adventure. Going to a paint competition is an adventure. Yup. Its all about attitude.

Last September Dick and I were in Utah, one of the most visually blessed states I have ever been in. I was painting in Escalante for the first time. Wow. Oh wow. Did I say wow?

The event we were at was so darned friendly, that I forgot we were out of state. But the scenery reminded me. I never used so much Burnt Sienna in my  life! I had a blast making and meeting new friends, painting in  places where divine design was in every glance. You had to hunt to find a lousy view. I never did. My only gripe was the lack of turn offs where the painting view was astounding. It took a bit to get used to the heat of color in those vistas, married to the cool blues of recession in the landscape. It was a true WONDERland. We were like kids in a visual candy store. It was hard to pick out what spoke to you personally to use as a paint motif. Didn't win anything, having been outclassed at every turn. That was fine. To each their turn. Besides the winning pieces were deserving.

Kiva
Escalante Utah
11x14 Available

Kiva Cleft
Escalante Utah
11x14 Available

Dick took time to ride the not often used roads that were not paved. He searched out and found an ancestral dwelling, fallen into ruin, that had been in his family when they moved west with the Mormon Battalion. This trip had deeply personal connections for him. Ghost towns can be so evocative.

At competition's end we left Escalante for Moab. The second of the plein air competitions for me. I had a few paintings under my belt with those vibrating red rocks. Onward!

We camped at Arches View campgrounds and toured Arches National Park, Canyonland National Park and Dead Horse Point State Park.  Go ahead try to pick a favorite. The storage on my camera almost was exhausted.
We had one night and one morning there and the adventure truly began. Not all adventures are as expected. Dick suffered a stroke. Ongoing symptoms required he be air lifted to Salt Lake City. I have NEVER seen such care! I hope to never again have to visit that hospital, but am ever thankful that it and its wonderful personnel are there. I have never been the recipient of such kindness in helping me get ready for the midnight road trip to get myself to SLC. I thought the wonders were in the rocks in Utah. Not so. It was in their people. From the helpers at the campsite to the stroke team at the University hospital each person was caring, supportive, thoughtful and kind. We were both extremely thankful.

Moab would have to wait. Getting him home was the imperative.

Dick is continuing his recovery and is following Dr's orders, but champing at the bit to be back on that bike. I swear if it could kiss, I'd have grounds for divorce! But he is planning to ride Utah again. I am planning to go back to Escalante to paint, having just signed up this morning. We refuse to have that state represent difficulties. It will in our hearts be the place where we had an unplanned adventure that started Dick's journey back to good health. A place that tested our reserves but brought us back to share values and a knowledge that all we have is today and each other.  A place that taught us to accept kindness gracefully. A place that taught us that all we have is our shared adventure.

Life is an adventure. Live it.

Through Love's Eyes

The end of year is come and gone and this past one has been filled with changes. Some of them pretty big and others not so much. The task of another blog entry was more enticing than filling out the late Christmas cards. So here comes my latest blog entry. Besides, baking is out of the question. That would have mean dishes and a wider butt.

I won a couple Best of Shows this year which was nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence from the judges, as any win is nice. And every show gives you another chance to tickle a judge's fancy, or not. But these wins are balanced by other life events that are beyond our control. I lost a friend this year, a  close one, actually a family member. Which brought to mind everyone's time count down. 

I thought what would I change? Not much. I'd definitely keep my husband of over 50 years. Each year with him is more precious than the last. Especially after his stroke and open heart surgery in the last quarter. Yes he is getting better, looking longingly at his motorcycle. I'd keep all my kids and grandkids, as they are turning out to be decent human beings, kind and good people. I treasure my friends and my health. Yeah there's not a lot I would change there. My list of reasons to be thankful seems to stretch every year.

But painting....ah painting. Here a lot would change. I have the feeling that I may not be able to stick around long enough to learn what I need to in order to paint worth a darn. I mean worth a real darn. I try to paint for myself and if others like it so much the better, but I really do paint for myself. For the moment. For the inspiration. To touch that moment where it flows and you are a conduit. 

A lot of painting is cerebral. The scheduling, planning, the forethought. I think its the follow through that 's the thrilling part for me. Lately, I have held a tight rein on my choices as I paint, I guess thinking that I needed more control. 

I taught a workshop last October. I only do one a year. One of my students (they all worked their tails off) reminded me of why I paint. For the happiness of the process. The delight in color. The feeling. The last three landscapes I painted were fall landscapes. Colors were muted and dulled by the oncoming cold. No snow, just browns, beiges, duns and burnt oranges. This one student, Ann, painted the most glorious small piece. Color was bursting from that piece. There was a happiness to be about the painting process that was mirrored in her color choices.  Fodder for thought for sure.

I went back to my canyon today. I decided to paint how I feel about the canyon, not how quiet she looked. You see, to me, the canyon is very female. She has a varied wardrobe, and her garments change with the seasons. Her moods, well they are as changeable as the weather. But I needed to remember how delicious is life, how brightly colored it is. So I looked at my canyon through the eyes of how I loved her.  

This is Glorious Canyon. Mysterious, vibrant, beckoning. No quiet wall flower here, in this wonderful canyon of ours. Now let me tell you, the muted palette was there. But not in my eyes today.

Was it Socrates who said the unexamined life is not worth living?

Thanks for the reminder Ann.

Filling Time With Happy Pursuits

How is it that I am retired, but have less time than before? I do have good intentions, but they say that the road to (insert your less than favorite place here) is paved with them.

I did take part in the first of my plein air competitions this year. The results were not so bad.
I won the purchase prize for an 8x10 painting of the Blues Festival, here in Silver. Its title is "Just a Sittin and A Waitin", of two over 60 blues enthusiasts waiting for the festivities to begin, seated in the shade and enjoying each other's company. Blues Festival on Memorial Day features more exposed freckled skin than you have ever seen since 1962 in the form of blues aficionados, and some pretty good live music. The place does have talent.
During this festival we had the second in what people are hoping becomes an annual event, in our plein air community. 

Winning the purchase prize means I came home with money and left the painting for them to display or dispose of as they see fit. After all the hoopla was done it occurred to me that I never took a photo of it. Oh well....

But I did take a photo of the second of my paintings to win an award. This one for Artwork of distinction. I titled it "Silver City Women's Club" (a definite nod to my less than stellar titling skills). I should have called it Casa Blanca, as suggested by my good friend Carol, or Casa Azul. This building is one that has captured my attention every time I ever went past it. it's just downright pretty in a territorial kind of way. It features lots of  blocky modules, and a very nice play of light across its face early in the morning. Even better was my vantage point in front of the Chile Bowl Restaurant across the street. Safe, off the main thoroughfare, shady and pretty darned private. And I had the blessing of the manager. Important, that.

Here is SCWomen's Club, or should I change it to Casa Blanca, or Casa Azul?

Silver City Women's Club
11x14 oil on panel
Available

If you would like this painting, go to my website to purchase.

Monet "Creativity takes courage".

A Time For Appreciation

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As I enter into this decade of my life, a multitude of things take me longer to accomplish, not least of which is finding time to do my blog. I get the greatest ideas for blog entries, in bed, in the shower on a plane or the road. Seldom do they appear as I sit to do another entry. But it’s beyond time to do another, so here goes.

This fall has been a flurry of comings and goings. I flew to New Hampshire to see my sister and stayed about a month hoping the foliage would turn. Very few leaves cooperated while I was there, I missed peak by about a week. But I did paint a bit, one covered bridge and a few buildings. Corbin Bridge is in her town and easily accessible with good vantage points, so I painted that. It was an exercise in pushing color as the trees were still mostly green. 

Corbin Bridge, NH

I also painted on the Rockefeller estate in Woodstock Vermont. That was a fun day. I got to speak French with a docent and we visited grandly… I do miss it. I also painted the Woodstock library as light was breaking behind it and over the hill top. Met a leaf peeper (as the natives call tourists this time of year) off a bus with the same last name as mine. Now that doesn’t happen too often.

Then after my return home, I was out camping with my husband and two friends in Arizona. I painted there as well, but that presented challenges of a different sort. Challenges of composition in making a straight on view of a cliff face work. I also tried to make my translation of it more abstract than rendered detail. Challenges of wind and cold were a reminder that winter is supposedly on its way. It was colder in AZ than in NH, imagine! A curious squirrel did everything he could to entice a morsel of food from me, but I had brought nothing with me to share.

Fool's Hollow AZ

All this travelling about got me thinking about seeing my surroundings with a fresh pair of eyes. New England, Arizona or New Mexico, the wonders of this land and the works of we the people are amazing. I really felt a connection to all the places I was in. Surrounded by granite in New Hampshire or lava flow in Arizona, the impermanence of our time here becomes inescapable.

This tends to make me even more impatient to catalogue what I see in the time I am here. I sometimes wonder if the kids will have a garage sale and toss the paintings that I have agonized over after I am gone. I hope not.

I don’t write so well that posterity will find any deep thinking of value. But, I hope I paint better than I write. I hope that people who view my paintings get a sense of the reverence I have for this land and appreciation for all the sacrifices that our fellow citizens who came before us willingly performed.

If you have read this far, I thank you. Not all my blog posts are this serious. But painting this land has settled a feeling of thankfulness in me that I hope I never lose; one I hope I can hand on to someone else through my work.

"In the moment of appreciation we live again the moment when the creator saw and held the hidden likeness." (Jacob Bronowski)

There's a reason why I haven't posted in a while...

Why you ask?
For one major reason. I wanted to see if anyone actually noticed if I didn't post. So far, only three people even mentioned it. I am wondering if this is wasted effort.

Lots has happened since running after the decoration sugar balls on the floor, while baking cookies. We had the holidays. Grandkids graduated and got into college. We bounced back and forth from CA, Colorado and here. 
I went to the plein air convention in San Diego. That was like coming home. I took a workshop with my cousin Paul and Kim Casebeer in Evergreen Colorado. Wow, was it ever beautiful. Made a few new friends during the process and loved every minute. Moral - you can and will windburn even if you are slathered with sunscreen. Second moral - ALWAYS have a jacket in the car!

Balboa Carillon - Sold

I taught a workshop here in Silver and have been painting up a storm. I was asked to judge a plein air competition and did a defensible job. That was an honor, and was asked to judge two more, but what with travelling and family events could not do them.

What have I been painting? Mostly landscapes. Mostly plein air work. But I have revised several studio pieces that have hung around bugging me no end. Because something just did not ring true in them. I have one more piece, a pastel, that will undergo a face lift in one area. Then the backlog of those that can be saved will have been. Others will not be allowed into the lifeboat. I cringe when I see an older piece that today I would not have allowed to live. 

Morning Walk - Gila
11x14 Available

The best painting is always your next one. The worst ones always behind you. You hope. But I am learning to look with a more critical eye. Teaching a workshop really made me think about my process. What do I KNOW works. What is the major stumbling block to good solid work? I found, for me, the answer was concept and composition. I can forgive a color I would not use. I can forget a brushstroke that might be too exuberant. But bad composition, and loss or confusion of concept are fatal flaws, in my mind. What do I consider a success? Solid concept. Strong motif. Enticing composition. Defined, clear values. Finally, enhancing color and a deft execution of edges. Easy list right?

Bearpaw Bloom 8x10 oil - Available

My students told me it was one of the hardest and best workshops they had taken. It was my honor. I felt pretty much like a mama duck watching her fledglings toddle off and swim with the big boys. The body of their work, when compared to what they had done before was stunning in advance of quality. It was hard teaching plein air in a pouring down rainstorm. It actually washed away a layer of paint on my support! But we slogged on through and got some amazing paintings. 

Monsoons in New Mexico! I don't think I could give them up.

Let It Go!

Let it Go!

We missed a good chance to win some money from AFV this past week. All it would have taken was a short clip of me decorating the Christmas cookies I made for my grandkids.

I was placing the tiny white sugar balls on the cookies with a pair of tweezers when the cuff of my shirt caught the lip of the jar. Had I put the cap back on? Heck no! 

What followed was a wave of tiny white balls rushing to the edge of the table as I yelled S^*%! They moved faster than the Israelites running through the parting of the Red Sea!  Trying to stop those balls were like trying to herd cats.  My husband came tearing down the hall coming to see what had torn such emotion from my lips, when I cautioned him to not step into the dining room. One look of the floor told us both we had had a snow storm of immense proportions. White balls were everywhere!  Suddenly I started to laugh….the idiocy of the situation was full in my face. How could I not laugh? I let it go.

I drew a parallel this morning as I was driving into town to get the one package I sent off this year. The care I had taken with the cookies was painstaking. The time was spent hoping to make my family and friend’s holidays a bit brighter, one bloody ball at a time. Sometimes painting is like that. You agonize over an edge, a stroke, a poorly drawn form, a seemingly false color value in the wrong place. The problems with some paintings just do not give you peace, even at night as you lay there thinking what on earth could you have done to have made that painting better. The stroke by stroke replay can leave you tossing. So when you view the painting in the morning you are determined to fix it or kill it. The painting, that is. Because by then you have deduced that the problem with your sleep pattern is not the too bright moon, the too late dessert, that last cup of coffee, no. It is the obsessive nature of a painter who demands from themselves that which their mind sees, but that their hand is not yet capable of producing. We all paint masterpieces in our minds.

What is the healthy direction then? What resolution is there for this obsession?  I have decided that it is to do the same thing as I did with those fugitive white balls. Throw it/them away. If I cannot improve it…..I can destroy it. Thereby keeping my sanity and maybe finding a new way to work. By not placing a label of precious on the thing, it has abdicated its power over me. I become the one with the power to create, refine, change and if desired, to destroy. Let it go. See no work as precious.

The cookies are done. Decorated with all their little doodads intact. The frosting has hardened and set…

The cap is on the jar of white balls. Tightened down. Twice.

Merry Christmas and a Blessed Season to all.

Concentrate On One Thing At A Time

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My kids sometimes call me Dora the explorer. Why? Because I often seem to go off in tangents, forgetting what the heck I was doing. I really think it’s that my mind works in flashes. The more insistent the flash, the more brilliant and beckoning it seems. So off I go. Then comes the fall back to earth. I experienced this when we held a paintout weekend in Hillsboro NM last week.

I painted, very patiently and logically the light on three old building remnants. One was a shed, one was a crumbling jail wall, and the last was the arch of the old courthouse wall, the only indication of what is reputed to have been a gorgeous building in Hillsboro, when it was the county seat. All are working their way to being vague memories. Relics is the title I gave this small but intricate light study. It is pictured below. An 8x10, it is small, but full of information.

Relics
Oil 8x10 Available

Finishing the piece I started to pack up my gear. Then Dora’s head popped up! Behind me, aglow with light were absolutely glorious wildflowers! Their passing would definitely not leave relics of their time in this world. They demanded to be recorded. So back out came the paints. What resulted is a small 8x10 painting that I call Morning Glory. It definitely was. Not only that, painting it served to loosen me up after so very carefully painting the crumbling walls and the arch of the courthouse.

Morning Glory
Oil 8x10 Available

This fall back to organization and reality can be tiring in its emotional intensity, or on that rare occasion, insightful and insistent to the point that it MUST BE obeyed. 

I used to be organized, logical, methodical, and I think, totally boring. Not so anymore. I wear purple far more. My white hair makes people a little more forgiving than they were when I was the same age and dyed it. I think my lifelong admiration of the greeting card character Maxine has caught up with me. (Watch out world). So, creatively, I think flashes are good. Liberating, routine smashing, creative, and even desirable.

Squirrel??? Where???

Did She Really Say That?

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I cannot be the only one who plays back conversations in their mind. I often know after the fact, EXACTLY what could have been said in reply. But how many of us play back what the other person said and wonder what they truly meant?

I am talking about taking classes and workshops. I have read too many books about art to list here. Lots of positive self-help stuff, because as most artists, I am plagued by wondering if anyone really appreciates what goes into painting. Especially plein air which I liken to painting on steroids, or the Olympics of painting, for the sheer effort that sometimes can be required. I have read what not to take into the field, but figure there’s a reason why I drive an SUV. I am not a backpacker, hiker or any of those young buff type advocates. I am looking at the looming end of my sixties with a real appreciation of being able to do this at all. Physical things take longer to bounce back from. Heck I don’t think I bounce at all anymore.

But I do take classes and workshops. I truly try to grasp with both hands what the teacher is getting at. I will try anything, go anywhere, if I think there might be a breakthrough at the end. There’s lots to learn and my time to learn it does not stretch out limitlessly. Nobody’s does. So even if it’s well after the notes have been taken and reread, that when I am standing in the shower, soaping up my head (or whatever), that when a revelation hits, I stop and think. Gosh I’ve even gotten goosebumps standing there all wet. But I have come to realize that not all of it sinks in. It’s often like watching runoff after a drenching rain. The earth is parched, but the water runs off. Likewise, my mind is hungry, but only able to take in and digest what it is ready for. But there are times when you are ready… times that stand out as that AHA, I’ve finally gotten it, moment.

• Do Thumbnails – Yes I mean you! At least three variations.
• Use a limited palette – That means learning EVERYTHING that primary colors can do.
• How many greens can you mix? How many variations and temperatures are there in one color family?
• Tone your board with an overall tone – NOT brilliant orange

Twisted Oak Winery, Sunkissed

That’s what happened when I took my first Kathleen Dunphy workshop this past April/May. I saw how wise counsel, trying it all, and saying “what the heck” can get you. It’s not the vast number of paintings I did (I only did three, and of those would only show two). Rather, it’s the willingness to fail, to throw caution to the wind and try everything she suggested, that brought me the best return. Everything she said I had heard before, read somewhere before and never really accepted.  I figured if it works for her, what the heck? I am so glad that I left my stubbornness at home and really listened. I feel that there is real substance in this approach for me. I am going to give it a good try for a while and just see if there is a difference at all in my work.

Soul Refllections

Here’s to growth. It’s not just for kids you know.

Winter In New Mexico - Southern Part

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This February has been more like Tucson than Silver City. We are so very much higher, and cooler. So it is with surprise that we experienced 72 degree days this month!
Perfect for plein air painting! And no snakes yet!

My friend Gay and I went 'sploring on down the road in the Mimbres Valley, just East of Silver City. What we found was an area whose accessibility was determined by the rate of flow of the Mimbres River. Many people live on the far side of that river and rely on four wheel drive, lifted vehicles. Some leave a car on the city side to get out and do routine things like shop or get gas. We didn't have one of the aforementioned vehicles, so we stayed on the tame side. But we still had views that were varied and just downright gorgeous.

The motif

I started my piece by rubbing a tone of a violet all over the board. (I have been watching Shana Kuntz" new video). Its great for making you think and start a little different from your normal starting point and method. Its that thinking differently gives you different results thing. I love the friendship of violet and greens, not to mention the love of yellows for violets, resulting in some of the most rich offsprings possible. We were at riverside and the water was so noisy that we couldn't hear each other talk unless we yelled. Somehow that just was gauche.

The block in

Locals drove their monster tired trucks by ever so slowly so as not to dust us. Who says locals are indifferent to their surroundings? Its so nice to have such a kind and thoughtful welcome.
We painted until we got the sense that we were both starting to dink around with it. For me that is the moment that I think " I can make it better if I just do this", and then the last stroke kills all sense of immediacy - it kills the " I am there" moment. I wish I had a guardian angel who could break my arm before I do that.

In The Shadow Of Cooke's Peak

This was what resulted from one of the nicest days in the sun, with a lovely breeze and friendly people. Mimbres Valley is rapidly becoming one of my favorite places to paint.

He Did Not Have The Time

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The air blew out of my sails this morning. Somebody I knew, though not as well as I would have liked, is gone. Saim Caglayan posted this morning that Ken Auster is no longer with us. Click here to see his work.

About 15 years ago, I called Ken in his Southern Ca studio just to tell him how happy his paintings made me. I could not, nor did I think I would ever be able to afford one, but just seeing them made me happy.  When I told him how I had a visceral reaction to the paint quality in his work and the simple happiness of being alive in his lighting, he was absolutely tickled. The man was gracious to a fault as I interrupted him that foggy morning. I could feel the smile in his words.

Due to the fact that I was working over 50 hours a week, keeping a house going and watching over my aging mom who was living with us, taking a workshop was not going to happen. So I talked to him and bought his first DVD. It was one of the first art lessons on disk I had ever bought. I have watched that lesson over and over. I tried a month of using his limited palette, and could not figure for the life of me how that alizarin crimson got onto my skivvies! The fact that he used an ironing board and wax paper for a palette was typical of somebody who painted with passion, who could not afford being distracted by the small stuff. That small stuff just got rolled up and stashed in the bin. There’s a lesson there. I told myself I had time. After all, he was younger than me and I knew where he was.

Seeing Ken at the PACE conventions made talking to him very easy. He remembered who I was, that crazy artist lady who lived in San Diego County and loved his work, and who tried to paint. I asked him why he had not done a DVD on painting cities, streets, buildings. I had emailed him requesting one too. He replied that he had said all he had to say, and he smiled. Not true. In the past two years, Streamline released the second of his DVDs. Subject, city streets. When I saw Ken after that, I told him that I was thrilled. For someone who cannot get to a workshop for either time or money constraints, a DVD is the next best thing. I could do that, after all, I still had time to get to his studio and take a workshop. 

This morning brought home the fact that we do not have a promised tomorrow. We have today. So to my artist friends I say, take that workshop. Go the distance.

It never occurred to me that Ken did not have the time.

Should the two links above not work for you, just go to www.kenauster.com

Time To Take Stock

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This is the time of year to take stock in what we have.

I have my health (relatively speaking). As Fonzy would say, “Eh, you aren’t twenty any more ya know”. I have family and friends, and I have my painting. My mental health depends on that last one. If I could not paint, I would feel oh so sorry for my husband.  He tolerates a lot and supports me by cutting boards that I prepare for painting, coming to openings he could care less about and to receptions where he feels about as necessary as lipstick and a tutu on a biker. Yeah he’s a keeper and for that I am thankful.

And I am still gobsmacked when I get up in the morning and find what we got last night. Snow.  This was our first here in Southern NM, this year.  Wow! Transformation!  Our move five years ago for this part of the country was so very right for us both.  I have missed the change of seasons for many years.  Now it is more pronounced than it was during our time in San Diego county, a visual cue to me of the transitory nature of our lives.  It makes me want to grab those I love with both hands and not let them go.  It reminds me that we have today. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. 

So after throwing on my clothes, and getting my first of several cups of coffee, I painted this little 9x12.  I call it “Towards Tyrone”, mostly because this is the southern view from our property, towards Tyrone NM.  The sheer beauty of this place takes my breath away.  Some days you think “if heaven isn’t this pretty I ain’t going”. Really.  I can understand how the indigenous people hated seeing us all coming in and taking over this land. We would have tried to defend it too.  I think when a body paints the landscape, farms it, hunts it and protects it, you develop a reverence for it.

This is painted on prepared board, one that has been gessoed and sanded, sealed on all sides.  I did not tone the board, figuring who cared if there was white peaking through? Its snow after all.  It peeks through everywhere when it falls anyway.

I am thankful. For lots of things, most of which you cannot touch except with your heart.  I truly hope your Thanksgiving is as heartfelt and profound as ours is this year.  

A Question From Left Field

A little bit ago, I was asked to put some answers up on my blog from the Patience Brewster website. Patience, if you’re not already familiar with her work, is the artist behind her self named company that designs and produces handmade Christmas ornaments and other fun gifts.

That was interesting. Never before had I had that type of request.

People ask you questions, but I figure they promptly forget the answers and go on to the next important thing in their day. So sometimes I answer facetiously, with answers that would stop you in your tracks, obviously made up and sometimes quite funny.

But I am being serious here, today, for about fifteen minutes.

1. As a child, do you recall a significant moment when you felt truly affected or inspired by any particular artwork or artist?

Yes, by my grandmother who did lovely pen and ink bird drawings, with light color washes on paper that today has disintegrated and been lost. (Note to self, use good materials). She taught me to draw atop her kitchen table, telling me to feel the item with my eyes, then put down that feeling onto the paper. Best teacher ever.

2. As an artist, what do you hope to convey with your work?

I find that when I am working there is a mind shift, and I try to imitate what I see, feel and experience, a true synthesis of the moment. I hope to convey the respect for light and life, and a Higher Power, no matter what the name you use for that Being.

3. What memorable responses have you had to your work? 

"My kid paints." Un hunh. Once I had painted peonies and that person wanted the piece so badly. Peonies were her mom's favorite and the day she saw it was the anniversary of her mom's passing.

4. What is your dream project?

A year in a motorhome, stopping wherever, painting whenever and meeting new friends along the way.

5. What artists, of any medium, do you admire? (Famous or not!)

This list could go on until tomorrow. There is so much to be excited about. A total command of medium and virtuosity is mindblowing to me.  So in no particular order, Len Chmiel, Ken Auster, Irby Brown, Don Demers, and such stalwarts as Monet, Degas, Celia Beaux, Bougereau, and Van Gogh. Standing in front of a Turner has brought me to tears, as has viewing a Sargent. Life is not long enough to list them all. They continue to give us gifts beyond measure and I believe a teeny glimpse into God's mind's eye.

New Painting, New Title

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Sometimes the titles of my paintings elude me, like a tiny flower under leaves along a forest path. Would that they were more forthcoming.


Take this painting of a Pinos Altos house allowed to go to ruin. I do not know if anyone owns It. Clearly nobody is currently tending it. It looks as though someone once took pains building a rock wall that is now with overgrown weeds and grasses. The rock wall looks like it will outlast the wooden building. But the house had windows that were nice and large at a time when transporting them was costly and probably pretty precarious. It was probably fairly snug for a house of its time. 
I hesitated to get into those tall grasses as I really do not like snaky surprises. So I painted her from the road.

Not too many people were about in Pinos Altos that morning. There was a honey truck, one person walking her dog and someone who must have been late for work. Most everyone took long looks at the weird painter under the blue umbrella. But nobody interrupted.


I called this painting Pinos Altos Dowager, mostly because she seemed to have seen better days. I can relate. But upon reflection, she might have been better named "Keeping Secrets", the way the entrance was so overgrown, with fallen down tree branches. Is she hiding something, or simply keeping close a time that was happier and more promising?

Keeping Secrets, or, Pinos Altos Dowager?

Its Not A Pig!

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Some days painting en plein air are just plain weird.

Painting buddy Gay Scheibl and I decided to take a quickie road trip up to Lake Roberts and paint. I kept telling her how pretty it was with greenery around the lake and pink cliffs above. So we went as she had never been.

They had drained the lake.

It was a puddle. It was teeny. The fishing pier (brand new) was 50 feet or more from the water. You’d really have to cast to get to them thar fish.

So we decided to go to Upper Mimbres Valley and hunt down a goat ranch we had seen with lots of goats in a lovely sunlit pasture. We found it and partially unpacked. Almost together, we heard at least 5 shots from a gun. At which point Gay, (the decidedly brighter of us two) said “This doesn’t sound like such a good idea”. And I had wanted to drive up and ask to paint on their property! Like I said, one of us is smart.

Run away! Run away! Run away! Sounds like Monty Python doesn’t it?

We ran on down the road and found a beautiful pasture bordered by red /pink cliffs and habited by three horses. A lady was walking her afghan hound and we asked if we could paint on the property. She said yes and we opened the rope gate, closed it to not let out the horses and proceeded to paint. It was beautiful! It was great!

But I can tell you, if you think boats are hard to paint, try horses. They walk away. They pose for two minutes, look at you, figure you’ve almost got them and they saunter on off around the far side of the buildings. They do it on purpose. So here is my painting of Lake Roberts (just kidding). Here is Munching Out in Mimbres Valley, with a bit of a glare for which I apologize. Complete. I don’t usually paint animals. I find them non-cooperative. You wildlife artists are amazing. I just am happy if my horses don’t look like pigs.

The Return of a Friend

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It’s been a long time since my last post. I did not want to restart the posts and then fall down due to lack of energy. So I waited a bit. That does not mean I have not been painting, I simply have been building back energy. Plein air can sap it right out of you. So can trying to type in proper English.

Plein air in New Mexico is a tale different from any other. The southern part of the state tends to attract a wide array of personalities and so when an attractive piece of land is posted “No Trespassing”, the prudent thing is to not trespass, no matter the enticement to paint it.  Luckily there are often pull outs along the road offering safety from traffic and views like nowhere else on earth.

Today’s offering is called “48 Ford Firetruck”. There are two of these old gals in Hillsboro New Mexico. One is being cannibalized to give new life to the other. I like to think of it as an amalgam of the best of both, affording the ability for both to live on. The historical society is working on the transformation. Both sit in a field, just off the main road through town. Because the field was fenced and cordoned off, my buddy Gay and I did not want to overstep bounds and tred on sensibilities. So we painted from the roadside. But after having met some of the locals who are working on the trucks, we now have permission to return and enter the field to gain a better vantage of these living historical icons.

This was my view from that day, glorious sunny and warm. So was the welcome from the Hillsboro residents. This is “48 Ford Firetruck”, an 11x14 oil on board, and soon to appear in SouthWest Art magazine.

Settling for Fewer Plein Air Paintings

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Fall is the best time to go out and see the colors in nature before winter settles in. Late summer is what I had to settle for this year. August was as far as I got.

To not belabor the facts, I started with a leg infection in June, it went to my artificial knee and I ended up only having one knee after the surgeon plucked out the offending joint, mid October. There went my plein air painting for the better part of the summer and into winter. Can you say envious???

But I did manage to get to Maine to paint about nine paintings, some of which are still awaiting finishing details and slight attention in the studio. This painting is one that was done totally onsite, so very early in the morning, that the pink was still in the sky. It made it into the Randy Higbee 6 inch squared show in Costa Mesa. Some day I am going to go and actually see one of my paintings hanging alongside some people whose work I greatly admire. This entire show is populated by pieces no larger than 6x6 inches. Its a big show made up of teeny tiny paintings. 

So if you get the chance to stop by and take a peek, its on Kalmus Street, Costa Mesa, and will run from Dec 6th through the month.

Here is my little painting "Dawn, Port Clyde Me."

Dawn, Port Clyde Me.
6x6 oil
Currently showing at the Randy Higbee Gallery, Costa Mesa, December 2014

Plein Air pieces may be sparse from me for a bit.......there's a new knee that's gonna be under the Christmas tree this year. About time!

Panting in Maine

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Life has been hectic since my return from a painting trip to Maine, combined with a BIG loop to visit family and friends, through Tennessee and North Carolina. I intended to paint along the way, but the rain followed me and dogged my route. Huge sheets of it. I thought Texas was having a drought?

Coupled with last minute preparations for the BRAI sponsored plein air competition and show we are having October 9^th to the 12th, getting into the El Paso International Show, and the Clifton AZ  Colors of Copper Show, makes my plate just a tad bit over overflow right now. But I thought you might enjoy a few of the paintings I did in Maine. I am intuitively dialed into that palette and have to feel my way to the palette of the Southwest. Growing up under a canopy of trees makes you welcome the quiet places, shadowy and light dappled. Occasionally I have to return to refill my soul and to hear the accent that filled my ears as I grew up.

The first piece is the view to the left of the Port Clyde, Me. Lighthouse, titled “The Sentry”. I love the pines in the Northeast. They have obvious character, having survived the onslaught of numerous murderous winters. They reach for the sky and they thrive. There’s a lesson there.

The second piece is a view of a garden along Turkey Cove, an ocean inlet just outside Port Clyde and Thomaston, Me. The light filtered through the boughs, and gently teased it’s way through the branches to fall on the flowers. The house was nestled in among the trees and was totally at home surrounded by the huge pines. You could smell the ocean on the breeze. The entire experience was timeless. There was a feeling of permanence to the lovely grounds, so I call this piece “Timeless”.

Both of these pieces 8x10 were executed during a workshop with Don Demers. He is astounding. Best of all for me, was his total New England wit; slightly sarcastic, self deprecating and insightful. Loved it. It was wicked good. His ability to drill into the crux of the painting problem you are having, and gently suggest solutions was very helpful. His demos were worth the trip alone. I have at least six more pieces from that week that are not ready for viewing and one is a germ for a much larger piece to keep me busy while the winds howl here this winter. It was worth every interminable mile that I had to drive in the mugginess and rain of the Eastern part of the country. 

The sun came out to play the whole time I was on the coast. Maine sparkles in the sun, like a gem. It was a welcome to remember.

You Know What They Say About The Best Laid Plans

You wait for a nice spell of weather, thinking to get out and paint, and then you get an infected leg and artificial joint. So much for careful plans. All the result of a little tiny bug bite, the leg and subsequent hospital emergency room visits, and doctor visits have slowed down any outdoor painting plans that I had. But my friend Gay Scheibl called and said ”lets go paint at my  house.” She just got a new deck put on the south side of her Silver home and it even had a roof! So there would be no painting on the ground, subject to bug bites and no sunscreen. Just a lovely day of painting.

Her property is so cleaned up since the first time I saw it. They have certainly been busy. When you buy an older home you are required to spruce it up, and they have been sprucing. There are lots of outbuildings of various configurations and ages too, not to mention a deep arroyo carved out by Whiskey Creek. It’s a great place to paint.

She has an old shed, complete with old wringer washer, and that is what I painted. There was no laundry on the line, but the added in bits were necessary to explain the washer. So I put out her laundry for her (figuratively speaking). And the soil where she lives (we are separated by only ten miles) is far redder than the limestone cap we live upon. I loved the complementary play of the very green trees with the red pigmented earth.

Washday
11 x 14 oil on lined prepared board
Available

This is “Washday”. An 11 x 14 that saved my sanity after not painting for 5 weeks. Shoot.

Thrilled to Get Best Of Show!Open For Business

I had not planned on painting in the Ralph Love Plein Air Competition. But, I went and painted for two mornings. There were other artists there, painting the week long. You could see plein air artists up and down Front Street, Temecula on any given morning. The light was perfect, the heat held off till midday and the passersby were congenial and interested. How fun.

We handed in all paintings on Saturday from 12 to 3. They were hung for the public to view in the convention center, downtown, Old Town, Temecula for the remainder of the weekend. It was a lovely facility.

On Sunday, I went to retrieve my two submitted paintings. Only one could be submitted to be judged.  So I picked the small one, an 8 x 10 of the store European Living. The owner of the store had been particularly friendly and the spot was lovely, with parking directly in front and the light breaking over the right back side of the building. Open for Business was its title. When I entered the convention room, I was thrilled to see a ribbon. I thought, ‘Great! I won a third!”.

The Judges awarding the Best Of Show Prize
Yup, to me!!!

As I got closer, I read the ribbon – BEST OF SHOW !!! Holy C#&p! 

I have waited a long time for that elusive award. I had resigned myself to never getting it. I had told myself that many artists went their career long never getting the Best of Show, and to be happy for anything thrown my way. A grateful heart is far more becoming than sour grapes.

The only thing I can say is that there was an over abundance of paintings of the new bridge in town, and that each one had to be compared to the next one. You can only do so much with a landmark. Originality of concept is as much a part of painting as are the actual strokes. There were some competent paintings there. But there was a commonality that ran through the most of them.

Open For Business
Sold
Part of the Municipal Collection of Temecula CA.

It was a purchase prize show; which means that my little $260 painting got me $500 and will hang in the City Hall as part of their permanent collection. My daughters who live in Temecula will be there to accept the award in my place. My granddaughter Taylor was there when it was announced. How cool for her to see her grandma win.

I have always wanted to paint Old Town Temecula. What a lovely experience. I am glad I waited.