Cloudburst

I decided I like the painting below just as it is, and changed the name of it to "Cloudburst". I'll put it in a white frame for an upcoming show in June at the Chaffee Art Center in Rutland, VT.

Spring Rain (working title)

acrylic on stretched canvas with inclusions

20 x 24 inches

I laid out this painting with my left hand, and am switching hands as I work.  As it took shape, I found myself liking the somewhat unfinished look.  Perhaps because rainy, misty spring days themselves have that look. 

I was going to use white paint to give some bright spots, but happened to have some foil laying about. So I experimented on some small practice pieces to see how that might work.  I liked the look, and tentatively set some foil torn to shape on this one. This photo does not do justice to the way the foil works with the shapes and the bits of red in the composition, especially in room level light.  I like it.   

I am nearly finished with it now, and have set it aside with an isolating coat to protect it. In a few days or a week, I'll make a decision about whether to work more on it, or simply leave it be.

Taking Refuge

textured acrylic on stretched canvas

16 x 20 inches

As I suspected, "Watching the Wind" was not yet complete.  It did not tell the whole story.  Over the last few weeks, a bit at a time, I modified the existing layers a little, added a layer, and worked in the details that held the story. 

This was January 2, 2010, and at dawn that day, as the filtered light gradually illuminated the storm raging around us, I and perhaps 8 or 10 others formally took the Five Mindfulness Trainings as laypeople in the Buddhist Order of InterBeing.  Part of the ceremony is called "Taking Refuge".  The Refuges being referred to are the Buddha (awareness), the Dharma (the teachings), and the Sangha (the community).  And that day there was the literal refuge from the storm within the hall.  So our large meditation hall held many meanings. 

It was a beautiful ceremony, and the immensity of the storm enhanced the meaning for all of us. It was wondrous, and I hope this painting conveys that feeling.

Summer Remnants, reworked

acrylic on stretched canvas

20 x24 inches

I liked this piece as it was (see it here), but it lacked luster and dimension in all but the brightest light.  So over a period of several weeks, I reworked it until it held its own in ordinary indoor light.  Now I have the strongest urge to add a little mouse tail near the bottom.  I've resisted that urge so far.  But no guarantees.  I still might.

Here's a detail:

Aunt Myrt

Charcoal and graphite pencil on paper

5 x 7 inches

I've been away from home for a bit over a week, and when I came back, learned that my aunt is ill.  She is nearly 93, and over the last year, her health has been failing bit by bit.  I was able to talk to her this weekend for only a couple of minutes.  I am hoping this is just a temporary bug that she will recover from quickly.  At the same time, I know that the time is coming closer when she will no longer be around.

Over the weekend, I worked for a while on a large abstract landscape, but then found myself resisting picking up a paintbrush.  Finally, I got out my large sketchbook, thinking I'd just fool around with some quick black and white compositions for a while.  My aunt was so much on my mind that I got out a photo of her I took last year when I was visiting her on the west coast, and did this quick charcoal and graphite study.  It was what I needed to do.  Though I only spent about 30 minutes on it (and it shows), I felt calmer.  Someday, I'll do a portrait of her in oils. 

I call her my aunt, but she is actually the widow of my father's cousin, the son of my father's father's sister (you might have to draw a diagram to get all that, but it is intuitive to me).   To understand this, it helps to know how my family reckons relationships.  My mother's family does all the first/second cousin so-many-times removed thing, but I never have gotten the knack of that.  I grew up mostly around my father's family.  They determine relationships more by generation, with a little shifting here and there to even things up. 

There was the parent generation: so my parents and their siblings and cousins were all part of that generation.  They were all aunts and uncles to the kid generation, and often take on roles as "second mom" or "second dad".  Same with the grandparents: all of them, cousins and siblings to each other, were great-aunts and uncles and functioned more or less as grandparents to all the kids, regardless of which were the actual grandparents (though we had a very special relationship with our own grandparents).  Of course, I am not the kid generation anymore: there are two generations after me, and if I count the children of some of my older cousins, three.  And things are different now, as they are for most families these days. 

Myrt was one of my second moms, and the one I was closest to as a child.  My own mother has been dead for over 20 years. I am now older than my mother was when she died. Myrt filled the role of being my guide in my transistion from young woman to middle age.  In recent years, as I began to approach elder status, she has shown me the path of grace in growing old.  Though she has gone through many difficult situations in her life, she acknowledges the reality of things, grieves, and then goes on to enjoy the good things in her life. 

She is the last of that generation of my family, and I count myself blessed to have had her in my life for so long.  She is such a delightful part of my life.

City Lights

This is another from the quick little paintings project.  I like it so much I decided to move it over here.  It is on paper, and I am thinking of mounting it on board and varnishing it to frame.

acrylic on archival paper

6 x 8 inches

Since the 30 days that I originally allotted for this project are long gone, I renamed the project blog "Quick Little Paintings, Having Fun".  I am learning so much from these little paintings that I've decided to just keep going with them, doing several at a session as time allows.  They are leading me right where I needed to go.  Some are loose and abstract, some are tighter, but without making me feel as if I have to get it "perfect".  I am enjoying letting the shapes and edges tell ME what they need to be.  After all, I am just the brush holder!  The paintings take on a life of their own and drag me along.