We hooked up the trailer early and headed up to the photographers’…John Corcoran, my digital magician. Check out his website for some amazing examples of his work.
He and Pat always have a yuck yuck…even while helping me to load massive paintings into the trailer…
It’s the middle of the afternoon now and all the paintings are safely home in the studio and together for the first time in months. I mean ALL the paintings…and ALL the frames. There is barely enough room for me to walk let alone frame but that’s what needs to be done so I’m winging it. They say the effects of this kind of a heat wave are cumulative and I have been feeling it today but we are among the lucky ones who have power and cool air inside.
So a break here to chill down and let you see today’s addition to the Granary Show lineup…
#9 – Skillet Apple Pie 24 x 29.5
Yes, another in the apple series paintings…and this year’s Recipe Series entry. You can read more including the original recipe in the Painter’s Notes.
No more goofing off for me…it’s back to the framing.
This one goes a little deeper…
and as the Painter’s Notes reveal even deeper than I thought.
The Trinity
I’m listening to Paul Winter as I write this.
His song, Belly of the Whale from his Earth Music Album.
If you were here and we were both sitting in front of this painting listening to it together… I wonder if it would expand your thoughts about it, the painting that is, too.
His saxophone is tilting in a graceful arc above the water while a clear soulful whale song bubbles up from the ocean deep. They meet a hair’s breath below the surface in a gentle but haunting cello solo…and dance.
There is darkness and pain which flows into a brilliant blue tenderness. A compassion that makes me weep, and one or two notes that are all I need of joy.
I never would have chosen any of those words to describe this painting. I’m not sure why I’m including them now. But I do know that this painting was a mystery from day one. It does not appear in any form in any sketchbook I’ve kept. The objects are as far apart from each other in the studio as it is possible to be.
I remember picking up the clarinet in order to adjust the string that was holding it askew on the wall. Then taking the painting of Ted, which hangs facing the easel, off the wall so I could hang it there. Seeing the yellow of the whale oil strainer from across the room… and then noticing the morning light catch the tip of the seagull feather in the driftwood. How I got them all to stay like that on the wall and how that window got there I don’t know.
During the weeks I painted this Pat was away caring for a critically ill Uncle and his wife. We weren’t expecting it and the separation was disconcerting. I suppose the muses knew I needed a meaningful distraction. And so they brought me to the edge of this latest in the spirit vessel series.
And I suppose they are at it again…
choosing tonight, as I write, to have Paul Winter’s Saxophone to fill the studio, my heart, and my spirit
As the heatwave nestles into the valley I was disuaded from my early morning weeding by the ever watchful apprentice who decided that we should heed the air quality warnings and head inside to the cooler chambers of the studio.
So I’m getting an early start on the frame carving…
It’s been a while since I have done one of these and I’m loving the chance to get out the woodworking tools and make some tiny shavings. I mentioned earlier that the first painting, “All this and more”…
was based on an NC Wyeth quote and so that’s what is being carved into its frame. I spent all day yesterday getting the words onto the wood. Years ago I created a digital alphabet by first drawing out each letter on graph paper and then scanning it into Publisher and then laboriously cutting and pasting separate files for each letter. That allowed me to open a new file and cut and paste the letters as needed to form the words in each quote. Then I size them to the frame, print out and transfer with graphite paper to the wood itself.
A large part of the morning yesterday was spent trying to FIND that file which was buried on my old harddrive. Ugh. But once I got it on the new computer it worked like a breeze. Still laborious but way easier than the way I did it before, drawing it all out by hand several times until I got the spacing right. Difference of hours vs. days.
But I have to back up a step…the frame really starts with a trip to the local lumber yard…where my trusty assistant volunteered to let the poplar boards rest on her lap rather than on top of the roof for the ride home.
I didn’t get a photo of him but the next step is hauling the boards up to the frame shop, Artworks in Mechanicsburg, PA,( my heros), and back to John Weist, my super hero. He chops the moulding and the poplar boards at the same time and then joins them seperately so I can work on it assembled which makes it much easier to design.
What I end up with is this…
Then I cut out the words, lay them out on the boards, tape them down and use the graphite paper to transfer lines to the boards.
Clean up the lines…
and break out the tools…
Raking light is essential to see where the cuts need to be trimmed and refined…
and then it’s all about the fun and challenge of removing the wood that doesn’t want to be there.
On this, the day when the supreme court handed down an historic verdict, it seems appropriate to continue the political theme by bringing you today’s painting…
This year’s show at the Granary Gallery will mark 10 years of representation there for me. I can still remember walking out of the gallery after Chris had said, “Yes, we’ll take all the paintings you’ve got.”…and being shell shocked and unable to speak until we got to the Black Dog and sat down and my heart stopped pounding.
It has been a dream come true of a decade and I am grateful every single day for the chance they took on this wannabe artist. Because they are so good at doing their jobs…I get to paint for my living and that still takes my breath away.
Though I have grown comfortable walking through the red barn doors and being welcomed by hugs of friendship, it is not because I am one in their stable of artists… this is the way that they treat everyone. It’s a gift and it flows from the top down which I attribute to Chris and Shiela Morse’s spirit of character and community. It’s a family affair and we are honored to be a small part.
The show is now a little over two weeks away, opening is July 15th, and I thought I’d do something different this year by rolling out the new paintings one at a time. This year there are 18 which will be making their debuts in the annual summer show so that will take us right up until the day we pack the trailer and haul them up the eastern coast…island bound.
I’ve continued the “theme” idea begun last year and there are a few overlapping ones this year… Apples is the big one, Seagulls get to play politics, Garden Graces make an appearance, and the first of many planned paintings of a special and seldom glimpsed corner of the Vineyard, James Pond, make the scene.
I hope it will be fun to follow along and see what each new day has to offer as I work in the background getting the frames put together and the painter’s notes written…in between harvesting and weeding the burgeoning garden !
So here we go…
#1 – All this and More… 28″ x 36″
This painting was inspired by a quote from NC Wyeth, “I have all this and more, yet how I would like to relax; to be content with a wheelbarrow, a rake, an apple basket, a pipe.” From his letters, September 19, 1910.
I’ll be picking up the wood for the frame tomorrow and I’m going to carve that quote around it. And yes, I’ll be content with my carving knife, a pile of shavings…and maybe even a slice of apple.
Yesterday was one of those days when absolutely NOTHING worked as planned. I had at least fifteen meltdowns and that was before noon. The stalled storm front which dumped steady rain for three days was causing my vertigo to flare up, and watching the creek steadily rising in the background was like having one of those CNN crawls constantly going across the screen inside my eyeballs screaming flood warning. But even with all this anxiety raging there was absolutely NOTHING going on that was worthy of the whining energy I was giving my angst. At the end of the day, with a glass of wine in hand sitting on the porch swing, Pat was able to talk me down off the ledge and that, and a good night’s sleep, has this day dawning a whole lot brighter.
With the countdown looming for the summer show at the Granary, I decided to have some fun painting smaller pieces inspired by my gardens. And this week it’s all about the roses.
Don’t look at the weeding in progress beyond the foreground…but this is the view from my easel window. I have Gulliver’s windchime hanging just over my shoulder so she can keep an eye on me and the first summer after she died this rose bush began to bloom. It now climbs up the chime’s support and reaches out of the dark corner into her light. I noticed this morning that another branch is peeking up over the window sill. Leave it to Gully to know how to cheer me up.
Yesterday I brought this beach rose in and played all day with a still life set up. (Responsible for about half of the meltdowns it was.) This morning that flower is flat out and the studio smells wonderful.
And here’s the first pass which was done last night. With roses behind me and roses before me I am ready to face whatever this day has to offer.
With the promise of a bit of Shiraz and Herself waiting for me at the other end…I can manage anything !
My favorite moment of the spring is when this rose bush first blooms. It was brought back to my studio oh so many years ago as a tiny off shoot from one of the grand dames of rugosas that bloom on the bluff in Chilmark. Now it is happily filling out the entrance way to the yard and this week it is full of welcoming wafting aromas that take me right back to the ocean.
As I am grinding away at the easel, burning the candle at both ends of the day to get the last paintings done for the Granary show in July, it is such a gift to see these roses and a much needed reminder that the treasures of that peaceful island are just there… on the edge of this spring breeze.
Don’t know about where you are but here in central Pennsylvania the seasons have abruptly changed. Since we had no winter to speak of it is not a dramatic shift anywhere but in the closet where I’ve had to dig out t-shirts and shorts from under the fleece.
I’ve been remiss in blogging and will set about to fill you all in soon. The “Big Painting”, which I’ve taken to calling it, is still up on the easel. Been a full month and I am churning towards the finish line now. It’s definitely one that needs to be viewed by the public only upon completion. Looks pretty straggely at the moment. But all shall be revealed soon.
Meanwhile I’m sure those of you who are experiencing these warm sunny early spring days are, like me, tuning up the garden beds, planting those peas and spinach seeds, raking and pruning and … watching the daffodils stretch out of their winter’s nap.
My neighbor Sue has come to expect hammering and drilling around this time of year so as not to disappoint I am building some new raised beds and…a greenhouse. It’s all about recycling and son-in-law Pete has come to the rescue with an offer of windows, a glass panelled door and a sliding glass door which will be sweet and Jon and Zoe are headed this way in a couple weeks to lend a hand with the construction.
I’ve got the foundation set and the floor framing done…
It’s been so nice to spend time out in the fresh warm air doing good hard work. Makes it all the more rewarding when I head back inside the studio to my day job sitting in a chair and lifting tiny brushes.
Here’s to the return of the Pinkletinks and the hope that your daffodils are smiling at you…
