Tag: easel

Touchstones

Posted on by heather

24 x 28 Oil on Panel

Touchstones …
” : a test or criterion for determining the quality or genuineness of a thing ”
(merriam webster dictionary)

From my sketchbook,

     7 October 2024

      heavy fog and dew
7am with some color in the foliage
the hickories are this weeks’ show stoppers
but the edges of everything are become brittle.

          Talismen – Touchstone
groping for guidance – for reassurance
chased by fear popping up around unexpected corners and in between dreams which warp relentlessly
from problem solving and revisiting childhood houses into nightmares battling with mutating monsters
all of whom start out as benevolent strangers.

          In the thick and soul clenching morning blanket of fog I reach for my talimans
the objects which I have within reach in every corner of this studio
imbued with meaning only I can treasure
afraid they may lose some of their power if revealed
or that I will in the telling.

          Organic – dynamic – keepers of the story
do I dare let them tell their own.

15 Nov

     This feels right – and strong
and deeply authentic
when in doubt – go home

     Meeting the Muses where they are
and leaning in

Perfect November day
cloud cover
newly bared branches

OK now
a better approach
light and moonlit

TALISWOMEN
TALISWOMAN
TALISMAN

Painter’s Notes Post Scriptum –

Unable to land on the best use of the “working title” of Talismen/women ? The objects surrounding and influencing the creative sphere are contributions from every corner and gender along the path. So, I referred back to these original sketchbook notations for some clarity and it would seem that the Muses had worked that out from the very start…Touchstones.

The little quotation taped to the bookshelf was attributed to Leonardo DaVinci as the last words he wrote, “perche la minestra de fredda”…loosely interpreted as, “Whatever, the soup is getting cold.”

That ship has sailed…

Posted on by heather

A metaphor which applies to this painting on both literal and ironic levels.

Both ships imagined together in this composition, The Amistad and The Charles W. Morgan, have recently sailed out of the Granary Gallery and on to the walls of an island patron.

Which means the image meets the criteria for being offered as a print in the HN Studio Print Gallery.

And that brings me to the reckoning with the rising costs of everything involved in making those prints, from ink (which is the most expensive liquid on the planet… a Jeopardy answer that I guessed at and got right !), to the paper and the packaging tubes, etc. But last week when I sent the Head of the Shipping Department…Herself…on a mission to drop a print order off at UPS she called from the counter to say they wanted almost $70 to ship that tube. An almost $50 increase since the last one we shipped.

After a couple weeks of scratching my head and investigating other options we think we have a reasonable plan to use the USPS and have settled on a flat rate of $25 for shipping. That covers most of the shipping fees that we use to absorb without raising the price of the prints themselves.

Caught up in the wave of the cost of doing business …the ship of free shipping… has sailed.

Meanwhile the brushes are flying in the studio and fired up for a long winter of painting.

We appreciate every one of you who has supported us and the work over the years and are grateful to have you along for the ride.

Best wishes for a happy new year to all !

DO NOT PAINT

Posted on by heather

Seeing it through…the layers


And then Maggie and I took a walk.
Through the seaport village of Mystic, along the harbor’s edge, and out back to the shipyard.

A truly dog friendly museum with water bowls and benches and grassy greens in between the historic buildings…
and ships.
Vessels of all manner and size and in every degree of completeness and restoration.

As we rounded the harbor into the working shipyard we ran into the behemoth of a hull
of the L.A.Dunton.
Drydocked for a major restoration, the commercial fishing schooner which was built in Essex, MA in 1921, was awaiting the ship carpenters to do what they do best…preserving ships and their history
so the stories can be seen and told a hundred years from now.

Out of the water she stood at least two stories tall. Stem to stern is 104 feet of massive wooden planking.
As we walked around the rear of the ship the sun…
there goes that wonderful sunlight again…
was raking over the hull.
The top half was deeply in shadow the beneath the slanting line the rust and paint work was alive with color.

The blazing red and the electric golds.
Walking up close I noticed those ceramic squares attached to different areas of the surface.
Worn almost to the point of disappearing, I could still read the words…

Do Not Paint
Well consider me challenged  Muses…you’re on !

My first art teacher Jim Gainor used to tell us…
Paint the air not the chair.
That giant negative space created by the opening where the propeller is housed presented the perfect frame in which to
paint the masts of the Amistad as I saw them just around the corner that day.


PS- The Docent at Mystic seemed to think that the plaques were meant to warn shipwrights
because the type of paint used would corrode the surface of the metal fastenings.
I observed that over the years this warning was overlooked.

Save the Date…

Posted on by heather

Time.

It flys by when you are sitting at the easel.

Head down and brushes flying.

And since my last blog entry was over 8 months ago, I’d say it’s time to re-enter the sphere of social communication and see how everyone is doing out there.

It’s a sizzling summer and by now, most of you who are under the massive dome of excessive heat have at least one new way to keep cool. You gardeners out there are definitely getting creative with watering techniques. The/We Boomers amongst us have finally given in to comfortable orthopedic shoes and jar openers. The great grandbabies of we boomers are proudly parading in their Pride onesies. And our canine companions are slowly beating their tails to a different drummer just to keep their cool vibes going.

Here in the studio things are also heating up.

The annual Granary Gallery Show date is visible on the calendar and we are getting excited. For the first time since the pandemic shifted all our worlds Herself and myself….and Maggie will be attending the show opening in person !

None of this virtual phoning in nonsense. We are looking forward to seeing all of you and reminding you just how much your support, friendship and patronage means to us.

The Muses threw a curveball right around spring training time and gave me a theme to work with for this year’s show.

Seeing It Through

I’ve had some months now to work with this creative challenge and am going to see if I can convey the journey in the Painter’s Notes. Keep an eye out for them in the coming weeks.

The annual rollout of new paintings will happen early this year so stay tuned for that as well.

In the meantime here is a teaser…

Stay frosty out there and we’ll see you soon,

H

Gallery 1261 – Small Works Show

Posted on by heather

Ready for some new paintings ?

A bit of garden graces ?

Some teacup love ?

Well I bring you all of that and more with these two new works which are winging their way out west to Gallery 1261 in Denver Colorado. My garden friends are floating out there on whisps of thistles and gossiping among the sunflower petals with stories of color and light from the new studio.

The show opens soon…
November 11, 2023 and runs through the beginning of December. Perfect for holiday viewing and brightening up these shortening days.

Sending you all manner of light and love from the warm and cozy autumn studio… me.

All the Gossip – 18 x 14

Thistle Whisps – 14 x 18

It’s Showtime !!!

Posted on by heather

A grand good morning to all of you readers friends and patrons alike…

It dawns bright here in the studio with some cooler weather drifting in so we can throw open the windows and clear out the cobwebs. With the first cup of coffee firing up the neurons I’m heading out to the garden to find a shady spot to weed. Glory days.

It’s hard to be here and not there, on the island, ironing my show shirt and getting ready to see well loved faces at the show opening and a surprise wave of sadness washed over me last night. We are so grateful for the beloved gallery family who I know will be there for us to represent and to shine a light as they do for all their artists. if you are on the Vineyard and headed to the gallery please give them each a hug for us. They are good huggers.

This morning I’m going to wipe away those tears and go to the happy place of tending to the tenders outside. Time to get a jump on starting the fall crops. Maggie wants to start with the mountain of dirt that we’ve been slowly shoveling into the new kitchen beds. Sounds good to me. Then when the sun moves a bit we can settle in to clear the asparagus bed of all that creeping Charlie.

Herself is clearing off the porch so we can enjoy a fresh tomato sandwich for lunch. Our pal Maureen is coming with an armful of cheeses and while those two watch the tennis match Maggie and I may just spend the afternoon at the easel listening for the whisper of Muses.

Wherever these words and paintings find you I hope there is a bushel of light, a wheelbarrow full of laughter and teacup full of peace.

My Sweet Pea

Posted on by heather

A word of gratitude before the Painter’s Notes…

for YOU…

All of you who took the time to send me support and love in response to the roll out of this years’ Granary Gallery show…

It is not a throw aside gesture to say that it makes all the difference
because to me it absolutely does.
We won’t be able to attend the opening in person
but from here in the late summer studio
I can feel the hugs and see the smiling faces virtually via your likes and comments
which goes such a long way towards affirmation and your kindness is contagious.

Maggie and I got some tomatoes gathered this morning
and in this hottest part of the year
the tall bushy green beans are apparently not as special a treat
as her long gone sweet peas
but our girl has bunnies to chase
and a field of wild clover to roll in
and we send you all a bucket of thank yous …
may your teacups overflow with sweetness.

My Sweet Pea

This was all Maggie’s idea.

Originally the intent was to have this composition
focus up close on my hands
shelling those beautiful peas
into a teacup.

I had the panel prepped
and the frame ordered
and it was the very last
of the paintings
for this years’ Granary Gallery show.

But when it came time to sketch it out
I couldn’t quite get the positioning of the hands right
just by drawing them in front of a mirror.

So I set things up in the new studio
and called Herself over late one night
to push the button on my camera.

She brought Maggie
who upon seeing the pea pod
came hurtling to devour the treat.

This has been Maggie’s first year in the garden
and after a crazy hot spell of a start to the season
when I feared the loss of all of the cool weather crops
we had a glorious run with the peas.

Both snow and shelling peas took off
and it became clear that Maggie LOVES peas.
She would sit patiently next to the trellis
waiting for me to catch up on our walks
and reach over the fence to grab her a handful of pods.

Just melted this old gardeners’ heart.

Back in the late night studio photo shoot
we managed to convince Maggie
to lay quietly beside Pat
as she snapped pics of my hands in different positions.

I sent them home when I climbed up to the loft office space
to look at the photos and see if I could work from them.
I needed one more take so back they came.

Something was amiss with the focusing on the camera
and the extra fussing must have annoyed the pup
because as I settled back onto my stool
and tried to hold my hands extra still
that little bundle of whiteness crept up
and came over to my side
and ever so gently she layed herself down
just as you see her here

with one paw on my boot
waiting patiently
my sweet pea
for her sweet pea.

Library Dreams

Posted on by heather • 1 Comment on Library Dreams

Welcome to my new studio
this is one corner of the library
my dream library
where all of the books
and props
and collections of treasures
have finally gotten a place
to play together.

It is a deeply meaningful space
designed after the Trinity library in Dublin
with ebony stained graduating shelves
and gold leafed alphabet letters
climbing next to tall fluted columns.

To sit in this space
in an early morning light
with the stove lit and beginning to warm
surrounded by my familiars
is dreaming my biggest dream.

To make something of an overture
and by way of marking new adventures
the Muses chose Moby Dick
as the very first book to pull from the shelves.

Sitting in my captains chair
tucked inside of this literary snug
felt the very essence of being inside of a whaleship
and I was every full measure
of CS Lewis’ “Surprised by Joy”
each morning as I read.

Here’s a peek behind the curtain
at my Library Dreams
sitting in
my dream library
which is sorta fun.

A Gift of Purple

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The generosity of the Morse family knows no edges
and the quiet gesture of handing Herself this little purple vase
is what I’m talking about…tender kindnesses

And when she filled it with water
to place into it the daffodils
which they told her it was ok to pick
from their front yard
and the water leaked out all over the counter…

it was that second of the purple vases
which was offered to her that really spoke to their hearts.

The daffodils as theme
was a gift of its own in the studio for this years’ Granary show
and putting the three blooms which grew in our home yard
into one of those purple vases was a perfect foil
for Aunt Imy’s lilac teacup
resting on one of Polly’s hand sewn handkerchiefs
which she embroidered with violets.

But it was the muses I have to thank
who stepped in
to stop me
just before
I tried to give those flowers
a drink.

The whispers of clover are my own tiny celebration
of having finally moved out of the  “heavy construction” phase
of our rebuild and now every day
a little bit more of what was the mud and straw strewn yard
that surrounds our home and studio
is growing lush and green with our new lawn of clover.

So much to be grateful for.

Little Lady

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Another gift from my early spring wanderings
this familiar peek behind the fishing shacks
in Menemsha was brought into a different kind of focus
which only a winter of island weather could provide.

I’ve taken hundreds of photos from this vantage point
over the decades but in the three growing seasons of the year
that bank across the water is a wall of green vines and scrub oak
which all but obscures the old wooden stairways
and hides most of the foundations and some of the porches.

On this day in late March
there was the barest hint of warming sap beginning to run
into the tips of the shrubbery and the capillaries of the tree branches
a glowing harbinger of the promises of spring.

I wrote in the Coast Guards notes of the peaceful solitude
that accompanied me on the walk around the harbor that day
I was able to stand in this scalloped niche
for an extended time of totally uninterrupted observation
watching and listening to the light play with the reflections
and the water lapping the mossy pilings
the breeze whispering through the rigging
and the ropes slackening
then pulling taught
over and over and over again
in a rhythm as old as the sea itself.