Thursday, November 24, 2016

Show - repack - show . . .

What a weekend!
Prep and pack for a two day show,
home with the jumbled mess,
unpack,
repack,
and another two day show.
Actually, there is another show in there and in all of the packing,
unpacking, repacking, unpacking, repacking,
the photo escaped.
One more event for the Holiday Season in two weeks.
I only hope that this replenishes the $$$ spent on materials in 2016!

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Twigs and leaves . . .

Why oh why does this remind me of the phrase:
Eats shoots and leaves?
These are quick little studies done after a trip to the yard to see 
what's dropped overnight.
Actually, lots.
I hate to see the leaves go but excited to see what they reveal.
It's hard to see through all of that greenery sometimes
and I'm one who enjoys grey days and leafless trees.
Not always. Only in the late fall.
The droppings for today:



Mulberry Tree



Pin Oak 

Sumac
Elm Tree


Thursday, October 6, 2016

Inktober Day 4 . . .

Inktober : Day 4
Prompt : Hungry

I've chosen just a portion of what I used for the 'hungry' prompt.
An empty bowl.
This sketch has the feel of the political cartoons you see on the editorial page, I think.
Only this portion pleased me - the handle.
The rest was just a bowl.
So now I'm only a day behind. Or two since today is 6 October.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Inktober . . .

October = Inktober
New month, new challenge. 
A pen and ink drawing every day for 30 days (yeah, right) 
and a list of prompts to help spur me on.
Still, once in a while something like this comes along that artists like me are inspired to participate in just to get creative juices flowing.


 Day 1 : Fields here in the Great Plains are being harvested. The cut corn looks sheared like carpet. Little piles of corn that missed the grain trucks are on the sides of the gravel roads. Grain trucks lined up at the elevators in queues a mile long. Here on the prairie is where the work of providing food for the world is done.

Day 2 : The prompt word is 'noise' and leaves constantly dropping all around is the inspiration. On a dry patch of what used to be mud but is now cracked earth is a single leaf from an old mulberry tree. Leaves crackle as they blow across the rough dirt. In short order, the trees will be nearly bare and the ground covered with mulberry, maple, oak, and leaves from all of the shrubs and plum thickets.


Day 3 : The prompt word is 'collect' so I arranged three of my little collection of lustreware bird toothpick holders. I can't resist buying one of these guys whenever I find one (rarely) and I do think they're pretty cute.

Each of these three drawings has reminded me of the lessons in composition, value, and sensitivity in line. Lots more to learn but these challenges are so valuable in the process of art.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Across the gravel road . . .

The beautiful, ever-changing view across the gravel road from our farmette.
This scene moves easily from full on snow in January and February to patchy snow in late winter, pale greens in the spring, tall Big Bluestem in summer months, and the eventual blonding heads turning rusty red when summer's over.
I love every month and season of this view and have been thankful for every year we have lived here that the land is protected CRP, never having been broken.
To think that this is the same field that was burned off in the spring to eradicate weeds and was so soon green again is wonderful to have witnessed.
I will be painting this same scene again with the fall colors and quite possibly a few of the blackened earth during the spring burn.

Monday, September 5, 2016

The last days of summer . . .


The light is different.
The sky is different.
The clouds are different.
Late summer is still warm (hot!) and humidity from the fields is high.
Yet like the ant, you know that you have precious little time
to store things away before there is snow and it's too cold to work outside for long.
These are the days when I want to capture as much of the light, sky, clouds, 
heat and humidity as possible for my winter work.
Like taking out a jar of canned tomatoes in January that were put up in September, 
there will be days that I will need the photos 
to remind me of these beautiful days.

Monday, August 29, 2016

The little green bungalow . . .

Such a sweet little house.
I shouldn't call it 'small' since I've never been inside and it isn't mine,
but I know the neighborhood and the homes are darling.
Quaint, cozy, perfect.
This bungalow belongs to a friend who asked me to paint it in watercolor when I had time.
I finally had time.
I have two photos of it - one winter and one summer.
The summer house has 4th of July bunting and is beautiful and lush.
But there was something still about the home after a snowfall.
Tight and grounded. Clean and composed.
I love this setting with the pretty green against the grey skies, the hinted-at shapes 
of the trees and foliage.
She loves it and I can't wait to see it framed and in her home.
Love.