Geraniums

Geraniums 8x 8 acrylic on a Raymar panel

This painting began with a desire to capture a feeling of summertime. I wanted to share the joy of planting and of  watching the fruits of that labor grow. The glorious color of these flowers following a long gray and rainy spell inspired me to head outside with my gear. I also felt a sense of urgency and perhaps impatience as I  recovered from hand surgery. Some of that energy found it’s way into this painting.  When I paint outside my goal is to be direct and  uncontrived.  It can be a difficult judgement call. How do I know when to stop adjusting and adding to a painting?  The truth is that often a moment will  come when a painting feels just right. One of my guiding principles ( if I am truly paying attention ) is to listen to my intuitive “voice” the one that says enough, done. Confidence can be shaken by moments like these when the purest form of expression might be judged unfinished. Often my best work is about less, rather than more.

Beech Leaves

Beech Leaves 8 x 10 acrylic (fluid acrylic markers ) on a toned panel

Every once in a while I feel like a kid with my first set of crayons. It usually happens when I discover a new art medium or a new way of expression. Recently, I noticed a friend posting lovely paintings done in acrylic markers. I immediately sensed that this could be a great tool for sketching, doodling, accenting and illustration. This week I picked up a small set and played around with them. Play is a word that gets knocked around. It suggests being childish and perhaps immature. Instead of celebrating the beginner and the child within us there is a pressure to look a certain established way. It sometimes seems that a one way only sign is posted for mid career artists and other professionals who want to explore different pathways.
I think that’s a shame. Exploration is a hallmark of creativity. It’s an intimidating  one too. When I share a work that I feel is experimental, and outside of my wheel house, I feel vulnerable.
Risk taking is a part of creating and so is failure. We tend to embrace the success of others and in this age of selfies and photoshopped lives the difficulties and discoveries that lead to success are stripped away.
Some of my best work has come from opening myself to something new. Introspection, intuition, and a new way of seeing can come from taking risks.
This little painting was fun, challenging and helped me rethink my relationship to line. It felt like writing a poem with paint. The idea for this piece came from  observing the new greens of early summer. I know that this common color hides a riot beneath, waiting for fall.

Harmony in Silver and gold

Harmony in Silver and Gold 16 x 20 acrylic on canvas

Landscape, impressionist, waterfall

Last summer we took a trip to Marquette, Michigan and on our way we took a few side trips to explore the many waterfalls that create exciting views along the Wisconsin and Michigan border. Like many of my studio paintings this one began with loose washes of color and value to suggest the movement of the falling water. It is essentially a painting of the atmosphere of a gray day. My goal was to present the feeling of being surrounded by the mist of the falls. The sound of the falling water made such a strong impression on me that I used the memory of those sounds to develop this painting to the accompaniment of bold classical music.
I often turn to poetry, to inspiring writing, to music, to artwork I admire  and to being in nature to work through my own creative efforts. Sometimes I will create a picture of a word, such as waterfall, by seeking memories of  the smell, sight and sounds of a moment that has captured my attention.
A painting process is filled with many, many decisions.  Most of these are facilitated by striving to present an edited point of view. Our art tools are color, value, composition, edges, dominance, rhythm...something, one of these elements often has to rise to the forefront to create a picture of a word.
Painting courtesy of FineLine Designs Gallery oF Ephraim, Wisconsin.

Chicken Feed

Chicken Feed, 11x14 oil on an archival panel

Landscape, figurative, barn, chickens, rural

For many years I had the great pleasure of teaching week-long art retreats at the Clearing Folk School  in northern Door County. There, the cedar scented bluff and the quaint log cabins held a promise for each and every student and instructor. One day I began a plein air painting demonstration of one of the small cabins. It turned out to be more of a talk than a painting session as I was peppered with question after question. I never finished the painting. It lingered in my studio for a long time and occasionally I’d make an attempt to finish it without much success. So, it and I sat and waited. Other paintings came and went. One day the overwhelming desire to paint the structure as I remembered it disappeared and I could paint the scene as I wanted it to be.
The little cabin became a pioneer homestead. The story-teller in me was finally at play with a sense of rural life and of course chicken’s. I’ve often heard and felt that painting “what you know” is a powerful creative tool. Imagining and embellishing “what you know” is also a means to share a feeling or emotion with a viewer. We had the great experience of living in the country for a time. There, we learned to garden, to raise chickens and sheep and to be a part of a rural community. Bits and pieces of all of that are a part of this painting.

Remember the Rain

Remember the Rain  20 x 24 oil on canvas framed

Impressionist, cityscape, larger paintings

I’m often asked “Where  is this place?”. It happens when studio or gallery visitors view a landscape or cityscape. I can see the question in a wrinkled brow and in an inquisitive eye. To my discredit, I am sometimes loathed to tell them.
More often than not my paintings are intended to convey a sense of place or an atmosphere that is quite personal. For me, the initial spark that inspires a painting creates an evolution that I am not fully in control of. A certain white hot painting zen can take over and suddenly the street, the lakefront, the land begins to reflect other times and other places that belong to a lifetime of experiences.
If I tell a collector that, it’s New York, Chicago or Ephraim, what does it matter other than to cloud the image in their minds eye?
Remember The Rain is about just that. The place is of no consequence. The details can get in the way of  things in a painted idea. Do you remember a rainy day?
Courtesy of FineLine Designs Gallery , Ephraim.

Kewaunee Welcome 2

Kewaunee Welcome  20 x 24 oil on canvas

Landscape, architecture, impressionist, larger paintings

For many, many years I made the trek between a home near Sister Bay and West Bend, Wisconsin. The weekly visits were a part of my life because my mom was in a nursing home and I both missed her and worried about her. Some of those rides were very difficult. My chosen route was to avoid the heavy traffic on the interstate highway as much as possible. I took the scenic, slower journey home. I found that the small lakeshore communities gave me a respite from stress and refreshed my spirits.
On my way north , Two Rivers, Kewaunee and Algoma welcomed me home well before I hit Sturgeon Bay. The laundry hanging in front of this old brick home in Kewaunee seemed to wave at me each time I passed by. It never failed to bring me a smile.
 Yesterday, a collector visited my studio in De Pere and immediately recognized the location and character of this subject. Everyone who has made the lakeshore shortcut has a quirky attachment to “the house with the laundry”.  One might even worry a bit if it wasn’t hanging  there.
I hope I’ve conveyed the sense of place that I feel when I drive past this home. It always makes me wonder. It seems,  that is what we all need, a little mystery, a little humor, a little acceptance and yes, wonder.

Springtime in the Green-house

Springtime  in the Green-house 8 x  8 acrylic on a cradled panel

Figurative, flowers, floral, impressionist

This is my first painting back at the easel after my recent hand surgery. It was a bit of a bumpy start, my husband had to twist open my paint tubes, but pure pleasure to begin again.
This time of year I get incredibly impatient to get out in the garden and to plant. I know, I know it’s too early here in northeast Wisconsin. So instead, we head to garden centers to get a quick floral and veggie “fix” and to plot and weave together the plans for our still imaginary beds.
Seed catalogues, bare rooted selections, the newest, brightest and best new hybrids, native plants ...the selections dance through my head.
This little painting is the result of a trip to a new (to me ) garden center “up North” in Lakewood. Marilyn of Marylin’s was a delightful guide through her many green houses where people were busy transplanting the little sprouts to larger pots while a riot of annuals called out their colors. The tones of this piece suggest the cool greens of the interior green houses, letting the complementary pinks and reds shout out. Color dominance does play a role in designing a subject. To keep the figures from dominating the composition , the vibrant reds were needed to be the fist stop in a visual walk about the painting.