The Height of Summer

Process: bouquets of freeplay, a whole mess of weeds to tease out, plenty of watering, a touch of fertilizer.

The sacred gift of a dormant seed's coming to life awes me every single time.

A Life in Which a Traffic Jam Is the Worst Thing That Will Happen to You
11x14"; acrylic, ink, oil pastel, and collage
abstract floral
2018

enlarged details:

Twenty-Nine Years

Buildings could burn 

right next to us in the car, 

and 

if we were in the middle 

of a kiss 

we wouldn't notice. 

–Jane Hamilton, The Book of Ruth

Hey, L&J, buildings are burning! Right next to you!

Happy anniversary : )

In the Middle of a Kiss
4x5"; acrylic and oil pastel on paper, mounted on cardstock
abstract
2018
[gift]

Losing All Track of Time

So, yeah, had a long list of tasks I wanted to accomplish today but, right after I meditated, I went to my studio as is my practice early every afternoon. Next thing I knew it was no longer 1230p.

My painting-in-process changed.

My list did not.

started defining blossoms,
created a bit of shadow

used negative space—love what that does!

reflected a little light off the foliage,
added some playfulness to the blossoms
---
work in progress

Joan of Art

1. I have dubbed both my friend Joan and our painting get-togethers Joan of Art.

2. Did we have fun yesterday, or did we have fun?

3. We had fun.

Calendar posters on lovely cardstock to use as substrates + laughter + shared paints and brushes and whatnot + lunch + partially remembered guidelines for painting flowers + playing loose with brushstrokes = this start for me:

work in progress
11x14"; acrylic and ink on cardstock

Wide-Eyed in Wonder Yet Again

I stand in humble wide-eyed wonder yet again, wonder that passes understanding.

How does this …

painting start from summer solstice with friend Joan:
building layers with acrylic, watercolors, and stamped ink

become this … ?

work in progress

Big Magic, I'm tellin' ya. Big Magic.

Yin and Yang

I have been fighting the good fight this summer, muscling both ends of a thick rope in a big ol' game of tug-o'-war: (a) wanting my home to be tidy, spare, spacious, and free from clutter, and (b) wanting to hang onto this and that—this magazine page, that painting experiment, this report card from when Scott started kindergarten, that report card from when *I* started kindergarten.

Today, though, I do not see opposing forces but forces that are complementary, interconnected, and interdependent; I see how they give rise to each other as they interrelate.

I snip a found composition from a 2016 painting exercise, pull out a bright fuschia envelope in which my friend Bo (follow the link!) sent me a note months ago (she found the envelope in her basement where she keeps things), and locate in my scraps box a letter from a high school friend typed on pale green stationery.

These forces come together along with today's sunshine and summer air to become an anniversary card that will leave my house—more space!—to transport love, color, and beauty 600 miles down the road to celebrate Meg and Michael.

What Can Happen When You Take a Chance
4x5"; acrylic, India ink, and oil pastel on card stock
abstract
2018
[gift]

Staying Very Still

Not for the first time, I take a found composition and excise it, this time from an exercise of monochromatic origin.

I move ahead, mount it on cardstock to make it travel-worthy as a postcard, think it is ready to go as is.

It is not.

Then, nothing.

I land smack in the middle of I-don't-know. Can see no way to resolution.

I have to practice stillness and more stillness.

And still more stillness—one day, another day, a third day—before it offers up the gentlest of whispers, barely moving the air.

I translate the whisper and, today, give the card a stamp and an address and blow it like dandelion fluff on a southward journey.

Morning When the Air Is Blue and Soft

3.75x5.75"; acrylic and oil pastel on paper, mounted on cardstock

abstract

2018

[gift]

Could Not Be More Content

Sunshine.

Dry air.

Exquisite temperature.

A painting exercise from an online workshop.

My paper trimmer.

Glue, brush, cardstock.

Bookmark.

Nephew.

Birthday.

Envelope.

Stamp.

Mailbox.

Celebration.

The Grass Rustled, the Creek Perpetually Murmured
1.75x6"; acrylic and India ink on card stock
abstract
2018
[gift]

Summer Morning Amusement

I noticed recently that the quilted spread on the bed in our spare room at the top of the stairs had a bleached spot on it. My knee-jerk reaction was to want to mix up some acrylics, do the necessary color matching, and fix it the way I might fix a painting.

Each time I'd go in that room, the offending spot would catch my eye, irritate me, and have me itching to get out my paints.

Today I could stand by no longer.

Good as New!
88x108"; mixed media—oil pastels on cotton bedspread
2018
[not for sale]

Beauty Is Only Skin Deep

I love transparent acrylic skins: when I make them, I scribble freely and intuitively, and when I put them to use in a painting—often months later, and usually as a finishing detail—that carefree energy plays out all over again.

I could have scribbled today in real time on my nearly finished painting but I know I would have felt tentative and tight at that point in the process. Instead, I pulled out three pieces of acrylic skin and had the freedom to try them in various positions without having to commit or feel tight or run the risk of "messing up."

When I found a fit that felt right, I glued them in place. Done!

The Swishing Whisper of Brocade
4x6"; acrylic, India ink, collage, oil and waterbased pastels
abstract
2018

Kapiti!

We used to have a mischievous and thoroughly endearing parakeet named Kapiti, one of whose habits was to nibble the edges of paper. In order to protect papers I needed in plain sight, I purchased a piece of clear acrylic 'glass' under which to place them.

Kapiti died many years ago and I lost track of that sheet of acrylic … until I did a round of deep decluttering a few weeks ago and rediscovered it! I had a grand time today using it as my palette to mix a color for the negative painting of this work in progress.

Oh my gosh, if Kapiti were alive now he would have an absolute field day in my studio—sitting on the ends of brushes for wild rides, walking across what I was painting, and chasing and pecking at brush bristles, all while narrating his activities in a chipper stream-of-consciousness monologue as I worked!

work in progress
new layer: acrylic on paper

Grasshopper

I am hopping all over the place: from a day-with-Joan piece, to a Lake Champlain piece, to shaving-cream bookmarks, back to Lake Champlain, over to pointillism.

Today, I pick up another Lake Champlain postcard to develop. Nothing happens.

So once again I jump over to what I painted at Joan's house and, happily, get going on a postcard-sized section from that start-plus-subsequent-layers.

Love the place from which I start, love the scritchy place where I stop for now.

work in progress
new layers of India ink and acrylic on paper

Co-Lab

Michelle posts a meditation with dots.

Joan sends me a handpainted postcard (which I forgot to photograph) from her vacation on Martha's Vineyard.

Lightbulb!

I channel Michelle onto Joan's postcard and mail the update to Joan.

Thank you, both!

Blowing Bubbles in the Bright of a July Afternoon
4x6"; acrylic on cardstock
abstract
2018
[gift]

What I Am Today

A frozen caliper grinding away in my rear brakes.

A fresh sparkly windy July day with dry air.

A handmade knockoff Cabbage Patch doll with Chapstick all over his face.

Two dried prunes.

An improbable storyline unspooling in a novel.

An eighth-grade watercolor painting of a black canvas shoe.

A bunch of scraps, glue, straightedges, oil pastel.

Spaciousness.

Inner stillness.

Raynaud Buckles Up and Walks the Train Trestle
4x5"; acrylic, latex, India ink, watercolor, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Art Project

Eight-year-old granddaughter Emmy jumped out of the car after traveling 600 miles to our home for 4th of July week, gave me a full-on hug, and announced that "when you come to visit, you bring projects for us to do, and when Auntie came to visit us, she brought us a project to do, so now *I* brought a project for you and Auntie to do!!!"

That she did. She brought the essential supplies, and she led the project.

Paper + shaving cream + food coloring + a ruler + plastic trays + wooden skewers = bookmarks : )

shaving cream bookmarks
each one 2x5"; shaving cream and food coloring on paper
abstract
2018

Rust and Trust

I felt rusty on Sunday, painting for the first time in nine or ten days. Bumped more than once into discouragement, frustration, and/or negative self-talk as I developed another postcard from my first Lake Champlain work-in-progress.

What grounded me and diminished my struggles was twofold: trusting my lived experience of process, and Simone Nijboer's reminder in her most recent podcast that painting offers us the possibility to experience again and again how [we] can come back every time to the simplicity of being.

A Place in Which Convenience and Cleanliness Were Not Required
4x5"; acrylic, latex, collage, ink, pencil, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

Started roughly here with this piece:

Don't Lose Loose

So exciting: even when I get to the finishing stages of my first post-playdate postcard, I don't lose loose!

They Dipped Their Toes in the Narrow Clattering Creek
4x6"; ink, collage, acrylic, oil pastels
abstract
2018

Lettin' Loose, Loosely Speaking

Before our recent art playdate, Joan said, I need to loosen up … a problem I've always had with my art. I can't seem to move forward.

She was singin' my song.

Painting in Joan's company was terrific. I felt honor bound to the shared yearning we'd identified.

Two days out and working solo again, though, I feel attachment and fussiness nipping at my heels.

But, with Joan's and my time together as a beacon, I take a deep breath, cut my page into quadrants, and plunge into the water come what may.

detail, work in progress

Summer, Joy

Painted for twelve minutes, intuitively and suffused with joy, on a sunshiny summer day.

Joan, Simone, Maz, and Lewis infused me as I created, each shooting off little sparks of carefree playful ignition.

started here at 00:00:00

landed here at 00:12:07
9x12"; work in progress

Spectacular Solstice

With daylight stretching out endlessly in both directions, I stepped out of time on the solstice two weeks ago for an art playdate with longtime friend Joan at her home.

Sharing a wish to get looser and less fussy in our creativity, we got right down to some laugh-out-loud fun with a whole bunch of commingled art supplies.

The hours flew by, and suddenly there we were with two paintings apiece stuck in rip-roaringly ugly and decidedly unfinished stages.

Our exit plan: (1) select one piece, cut it into quadrants, develop the quadrants into postcards, send the cards to each other by post; (2) get together for a repeat playdate in a few weeks to develop the second piece.

Random process photos:

Soft Gray Morning

I love a bright warm sunny blue-skied summer morning.

I love a soft cool gray closed-in summer morning.

Soft gray's what I had as I painted this piece …

… along with painters in and out the front door, up and down the stairs, in the hall, in the bathroom.

I snagged a few supplies from my studio before the painters knocked on the front door. Then I set up a make-shift space on a desk in another part of the house and puttered.

Stray Seeds Dropped by Larks and Linnets in Flight
4x6"; acrylic, ink, collage, oil pastel
abstract
2018
[gift]

Immigration Outcome

My favorite painting moment today comes when I've decided this postcard is complete. I use my paper trimmer to take care of a few rough spots on the edges, after which I pick up the resulting scraps.

Done.


Or not …

I notice a particular snippet in my hand—my eyes widen with delight.

Back to the glue pot!

Love the intrepid migrant that leaves everything it knows from where it used to live on the lower left border and contributes an unexpected pop of pattern in its new adopted home.

Flanked by Largely Friable Cliffs of Sandstone
4x5.5"; acrylic, latex, India ink, collage, and oil pastel
abstract
2018

detail