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!

A New Day

A New Day
10 x 10
Available at Hildt Galleries, Chicago

The other day I read that scientists have determined that space begins 62 miles above the earth's surface. The article included a photograph taken from space at an oblique angle of the earth and its atmosphere. It was shocking- that thin little envelope of air separating us from deep, black space. Sixty two miles- that's about the same distance I drive round trip to the nearest Walmart. Nothing could more emphatically demonstrate the fragile, tenuous nature of our existence. And yet, the thing that struck me- just as it does when I stand at the edge of a pond or watch the weather blow in from the west- is the incredible inventiveness, the sheer creativity of Creation.

Still Evening

Still Evening
10 x 10 oil on linen
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London

The Early Summer Show at Blackheath Gallery opens on Saturday, 10-6. If you happen in be in London, pop in! The show runs through June 6.


Online Painting class- Painting the Luminous Landscape, May 15- June 12. Just two spots left!

Seeing the Start

Work in Progress
30 x 70 triptych

Something happened yesterday in the studio that was, I think, a completely new experience for me. I've been thinking about painting some large pieces lately and buoyed by the imminent completion of The Constable Closet, I decided to start a 30 x 70 triptych this weekend. I filled up pages of my sketchbook with thumbnails and completed two underpaintings of pieces with a similar motif. I could see in my mind's eye what color harmony and effect I wanted and a general idea of the motif, but I still hadn't worked out the composition. I tend to work in squarer formats so composing this elongated horizontal was giving me fits. Plus, composing a triptych is arguably three times as challenging because each panel must stand on its own as well as support the whole.

So, when I went to the studio yesterday to start it, I still hadn't really settled on a composition. I thought I'd sketch some more and try to resolve it. I walked in and put the three panels up on my easel and moved the other two pieces I had already laid in to my work table. I looked at them, then looked at the panels and well, I "saw" the composition on the panels all laid out. I didn't think, I didn't conjure it up, I just saw it. It only lasted a few seconds, but I saw it.

I was taught to "see" the final work in my mind's eye and this is what I also encourage my students to do. But that exercise, at least to me, is more about the translation of the subject into paint-understanding what you want your finished painting to look like before you start- seeing the finish. This experience was more about process- more about "seeing the start". And I didn't "see" it in my mind's eye, I saw it on the panels. Or, maybe I just had one too many Diet Cokes.

New Online Painting Class

This past week concluded my first two online painting classes. It was new territory for me as a teacher and for the students but the format really worked. As always, I learned a great deal by having to explain my process and also how I can tweak the format to make it even better. The feedback from students has been excellent. So, I've scheduled a new 4 week online painting class for May 15- June 12, 2009.

Click here for more information and to register. The class is limited to 10 participants.

The Constable Closet

April Dusk
12 x 12
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London

This weekend Steve (my husband) started framing up the walls for the new storage area in my studio. There never seems to be enough storage in a studio and I'm sure I'll fill this one up immediately. There is one very special feature to this storage area, however- The Constable Closet.

A few months ago Steve and I were talking about John Constable and his famous "six footers" - the large exhibition pieces he painted for the annual Royal Academy shows. In many respects these huge canvasses had an extremely beneficial effect on his career and brought him to the attention of landscape painters and collectors in France (even as he was somewhat ignored in England) . About the same time as this conversation, my dealer in Chicago started encouraging me to paint some really large pieces and Steve enthusiastically supported that idea. Ever since then, he asks me on a regular basis when I'll be starting my first "six footer".

I've had a few mishaps over the last few months, with large panels getting dinged while sitting around in the studio. So, this weekend when we started working out the design for the storage area, he came up with the idea to include an area where I can store big panels. And The Constable Closet, named after the great man himself, was born.

Its a bit tough to see (it sort of looks like a forest of 2 x 4s at the moment), but the tall narrow opening on the left front is the opening for the Constable Closet. It will be dry walled in the interior and have a funky little narrow door. I'll be able to store panels up to about 7' x 7' in there. The opening for the rest of the storage area is around to the right (the shelves will back up to the right wall of the Constable Closet. There, I'll have some vertical storage for smaller panels and paintings and shelves for supplies.

I've read that Constable often let his children play in his studio and that on one occasion one of his sons punctured a large canvas with the mast of a toy sailing ship. I just bet John would have loved this closet.

Studio Improvements

Summer Moon II
12 x 11
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London

Sold

This morning we shipped six paintings to London. It was such a relief to get them out, and I was tempted to just relax a bit this afternoon. But, we are finally going to get started on the improvements to my studio this weekend. And not a minute too soon. Between filming videos for the online classes and trying to get the six pieces done, its in a total shambles. So, I spent the afternoon moving book boxes, supplies, canvas rolls, frames, paintings -stuff- to one end of the studio so we could start building the bookcases and storage area this weekend. I saved a little corner where I can hopefully keep working.



In addition to bookcases, storage area, painting the ceiling and walls and hanging proper lights, I want to replace this lovely sort of Stalag 13 door with a more inviting french door.



Charming, huh?

Twilight Wood
12 x 12
Available at Blackheath Gallery, London
Sold

It's been a bittersweet pleasure this past week, working on the pieces to send to London. It's an exciting task but the loss of Sophie has tempered it. But, six pieces are almost done, which is a good thing since they must dry, be varnished, and dry again in time to ship on Thursday!

Sophie 1995-2009

Sophie
1995-2009

Our dear, sweet Sophie died last night leaving an enormous emptiness in our hearts and in our canine pack. She was our oldest dog, but a perpetual puppy in looks and charm. The smallest of our pack (we had 5 dogs before her passing), she was always last in the pecking order. She bore that with grace and a sweet temperament. Even though she had been blind and in failing health for the last year, she never lost her gentle demeanor. Or, her desire for the next treat-until yesterday morning.

And Sophie was a traveler. She joined our family in FL, but soon began making the treks out to New Mexico, which eventually turned into a permanent move. She would patiently lay in the back of the Suburban for the three day trip from Florida to New Mexico- only registering a complaint when one of the big dogs would step on her. This picture was taken in 1999 in Abiquiu, NM in a spot we used to go to picnic. It has a spectacular view of the red rocks surrounding Ghost Ranch. We thought it perfectly captured her- a small dog with a big heart.

We had three other dogs that had left us over the years during our odyssey from Florida to New Mexico and finally to Texas. When we moved here two years ago, we brought their headstones with us, but never really found a place for them. This morning, we buried Sophie in a lovely little spot on our property and set the other stones there too. It seems all of us will finally settle down here.

We'll miss you Sophie.