Early Moonrise

Early Moonrise
36 x 30
Available at Hildt Galleries, Chicago

"To rise, I must have a field to rise from."
Mary Oliver

I've been looking into phases of the moon lately and moonrises in particular. Online you can find out when the moon was full a hundred years ago or when it will be a hundred years hence (remember, hope springs eternal). What surprised me though was how often the moon rises at midday or early afternoon. When I was out walking this afternoon I looked for it. There it was almost directly overhead at 6PM. So, those early moonrises on summer nights when the moon rises as the sun sets are not so early after all.

Welcome, Summer

Hayfield Evening
30 x 40
Available at Hildt Galleries, Chicago

Our weeks of rain gave way to a few days of sunshine this week and the landscape responded by bursting forth in that sort of disheveled, frowzy way usually reserved for late July. The wrens that hatched in the shop have flown the nest. Crickets, and bees and mosquitoes have all come out in force. And, I ran into a huge box turtle on my way to the studio this morning. Hello, Summer.

Evening Pond

Evening Pond
36 x 30
Available at Loretta Goodwin Gallery

Here's one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver- enjoy.

In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Hope Springs Eternal

Work in Progress
Evening Primrose
10 x 10

Many years ago, at the beginning of my former life, I had a law professor whose favorite phrase was "Hope springs eternal". He used it often- usually in an ironic or sarcastic way- to respond to student questions. It became a sort of mantra my classmates and I used to describe our miserable plight. Over the years, it still pops up in my head from time to time. A few weeks ago I was out walking and noticed that the Evening Primrose, a wildflower that blooms in north Texas in April and May were out. Spring offers a bonanza of wildflowers in Texas, the most famous being the showy bluebonnet. But, my favorite is the primrose- its delicate, translucent, pale pink flowers held up by impossibly thin, wispy stems- it seems too fragile to ever survive, much less thrive along the roads and across the fields of north Texas. And yet, it does. Hope springs eternal. These days, it means something completely different to me.

Studio News

We are doing more than growing tomatoes (upside down or otherwise) around here. I've been working on a whole new batch of paintings, including several for a new gallery (more about that later!). And, Steve has been working on the studio improvements in addition to his regular job as chief frame maker for Mountains Edges Frames. The Constable Closet has drywall .


And my bookshelves are in progress in the shop.


I also heard this week that Blackheath Gallery in London has sold two paintings!

The Tomato Growing Throw Down

A few weeks ago Steve came home with one of those upside down tomato growing contraptions you've probably seen on television ads. I don't quite get why growing a tomato upside down in a plastic tube should produce a better crop of tomatoes and this thing seriously offends aesthetically speaking. But, he was convinced he would have a huge harvest because, well, he saw it on TV. So, we decided to have a tomato growing throw down- he with his new school, upside down, plastic thing and me with my old school, Beefsteak in a clay pot with dirt.














Its still too soon to call this thing, but so far my tomato has set more flowers and just yesterday I noticed......


a wee tomato!

Reveille

Reveille
10 x 12
Available at Deborah Paris Fine Art

This serene image belies the stormy weather we are having at the moment. Thunderstorms and tornadoes are moving across north Texas so I will post this quickly before we lose power and/or cable. I'll be back tomorrow with an exciting report on the Tomato Growing Throw Down!