I just don't think I'm finished with Christmas yet. I have some more Christmas paintings to go.
A quote from Grant Wood describes a condition from which he and many of us suffer: taking too much for granted. Wood said, "...To my great joy, I discovered that in the very commonplace, in my native surroundings, were decorative adventures and that my only difficulty had been in taking them too much for granted." Woods' words ring with truth. My goal as an artist is to capture the wonder of the often overlooked ordinary, the commonplace beauty around us, those little details that make all the difference in our daily lives. The rough hue of rocks, lush blue woodlands, weathered wood grains, and distant meandering dirt roads never cease to appeal to me. I attempt to share the beauty from which routine blinds us. My work can be purchased on ebay or by contacting me personally.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Santa is well into his night's work by now, not stopping until the last delivery is made. This painting was inspired by a summer's night full moon. I had never painted plein air duri
Monday, December 23, 2013
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Friday, December 20, 2013
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
I have always liked the Old World Santas, the tall, gaunt ones that look tired and worn. The blue Santa doesn't qualify as Old World, although I did enjoy painting him because he WAS blue, a far cry from the traditional red. I need to begin to get my thoughts together for a real Old World Santa and paint him out of season. I consider the non Christmas season the most productive time for painting holiday pieces. Not sure why...
Monday, December 16, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
When I first painted this I wondered if Santa's puffing on a pipe would be offensive to the nonsmoking world. No offense is intended, but my granddad smoked a pipe and my dad a cigar. Despite the hazards of smoking, I must admit the smell of either brings a wave of pleasant memories.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Monday, December 9, 2013
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Saturday, December 7, 2013
My daughter asked me to paint a series of miniature Santas for her, and this one is my maiden attempt. The remaining ones are of another pose. Despite their similarities, Santa's face is always different in expression and character. I like that. Aren't all of us unique, yet basically the same? Santa is no exception. Here's to you, Emilee.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
The last time I saw the old place was years ago. The dirt road curved through the woods, and suddenly the relic appeared, a silent memorial from a past life. The place was bedraggled, yet spoke of good times. Now, only spirits dance in the light rays playing in the tall grass.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
If I had money to travel as much as I think I would like, I would prefer off-season travel. For instance, I enjoy the mountains during the off-season, after people like me usually disappear. The beach during the cooler months appeals to me. Having the beach alone is heaven. That solitude is of God. Maybe that is why I enjoyed painting this scene, I had the beach to myself.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Monday, July 8, 2013
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
In 2006, the town of Ashland celebrated its 100th birthday, the most well-attended city event I can remember. To commemorate this gala affair, artists within Marble Gate Gallery painted a series of flags, one of which was this one I painted of the county courthouse dome and flag. Helen Pope purchased this painting. She would want me to say that.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
In October I always try to attend the Sarah Carlisle Art Colony on Lake Martin. The week is spent painting, listening to instruction, and networking with those of like mind. This year we worked on values and several studies were done painting ordinary kitchen items: cups, bowls, flatware, fruit, and veggies. Now I'm returning to those studies and applying color. This is one of those studies after color.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Eggplant have always appealed to me. The color is so lovely and the texture of the surface is so touchable and, well...exotic? Too bad I have never developed a taste for them. I've tried frying them like green tomatoes. - Ok, but I prefer green tomatoes. I've even gone the eggplant Parmigianino route, but anything is tasty with enough cheese piled on it. I think I'll just admire the eggplant for its aesthetic qualities.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
This small painting was done quickly in the last moments of a class session. Sometimes accidents turn out to surprise us. This "quickie" pleased me more than the painting I was focused on for the evening. ...like life. Sometimes the best things happen when not expected.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
As a junior high student, I was introduced to Daphene de Maurier's novels, which I LOVED. I had visions of myself as the lovely Rebecca, casting her gaze on the windswept coastal waters, the wind whipping of her long, luxuriant tresses, and pondering the mystery of the tall, mysterious stranger who has entered her life. Yeap....that was me all right. (The closest I will ever come to Rebecca or something remotely similar is this painting.)
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Another beautiful day is beginning. With coffee in hand, I surveyed the yard this morning, admiring the improvements. Satisfaction is found in working in the yard and seeing results. For the first time in months, I am beginning to feel "caught up" with the outside of my home. I'll need to remind myself of this when overwhelmed with school responsibilities later in the year. Great peace is found in the boundaries of my yard.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
I can count on one hand the number of times I have been to Selma, AL, which is not to my credit. I think I could spend some time there, more than the few minutes it took for me to take some snapshots which resulted in this painting. Perhaps some day, I can make a return trip and do justice to the interesting shops and river park.
Friday, June 14, 2013
I've made an effort to plant only perennials this summer which would require less maintenance; I planted Shasta daisies near my front door. The plan was Shasta's' bright blooms would be seen from a distance. So much for my pride. Most of the plants didn't last much less have "bright, showy blooms." I should have planted zinnias, the old, dependable workhorse of the floral world.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
I'm not sure why this scene appeals to me. Other than the drying clothes, a sign of life does not exist. Maybe the questions the scene generates are the appeal. Where is it? Where is everybody? The streets are wet, so why would the laundry be hanging on such a dreary day? Strange....
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
This time of year always reminds me of my dad who loved yard work. I have memories of his coming home for lunch at noon, eating a quick lunch, and working in the yard until time to return to work. He didn't bother to change clothes, nor did the mid-day heat stop him. He was on a mission.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Seeing the Grand Tetons in the distance is an unimaginable scene that many artists have attempted to capture, an impossible feat. Such incredible beauty is beyond human depiction. Last summer, this view treated my friends and I each morning while parked in this location. Taking this view for granted seems impossible, but I suppose there are those who do.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
My mother didn't have a day specifically for laundry, just whenever the weather was agreeable, for we had no dryer during my growing- up years. The spring and summer months were no problem. However, the winter months presented a dilemma. My brothers' jeans were often frozen stiff while "drying." Despite it all, my mother
Sunday, June 2, 2013
The sight of sheep grazing in the distance is not one with which I am accustomed. Therefore, when I do see it, I always stop and gaze. --such a peaceful sight. I always think of Psalm 23 and the metaphor of God's being like a shepherd. Conversely, I am to be like a sheep, a metaphor of total trust, dependence, and simplicity. I struggle with the trusting dependence; however, I qualify for the simple category, stupid at times. Yes, sheep can be quite dumb, that I am more than I like to admit. These sheep are just waiting for the shepherd to make his move. I pray that I will learn to be as dependent on my "heavenly shepherd." ----just watching, counting on Him to meet my every need.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Today was my last day of work for the summer. For the past few summers, I've had the opportunity to travel, so I did. This summer however, I will be staying home. Frankly, I'm looking forward to working in the yard and getting some home projects accomplished that I've had on the backburner for quit a while. Therefore, this painting is in honor of those who will hit the road for some long awaited journey. I, on the other hand, plan to seek the pleasures of my own back yard. Dorothy was right. There is no place like home.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
I am a sucker for scenes with an old world flair. Old structures of masonry with spirals that reach toward heaven have a sense of eternal stability that modern architecture does not possess. The American culture does not have the sense of history that European culture has. Many structures in Europe are older than our country. When I saw this scene, I knew I would try to paint it, a place I would like to visit. Do you think Walmart is down the street?
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
I'm stepping out of my comfort zone this month, attempting a business venture that involves art. On April 27, I'll be inviting those interested to paint a painting of their own with a little instruction. -Clay County's version of Sips and Strokes (without the sips, of course). I have pondered the possibilities far too long. I'll not know until I try. The first subject will be Melon Trio, a piece that would grace a kitchen or eating area, yet be simple enough for the novice.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
I never had a new bike, only a used one that was actually too little and a boy's bike at that. Being a carefree kid, I don't remember being offended by the slight. I remember cruising the sidewalks in front of the school which was next door to my home. I was cool. My imagination was a free ranger. I was anyone I wanted and anywhere my daydreams took me. Life was sweet. When do we lose that...whatever it is? Does it evaporate when we lay aside our bikes and graduate into adolescent drama? I long for that old bike, but more so for what it represents, the happy oblivion of childhood.