A painting for Petrified

 

70 days till I leave for the Grand Canyon and I finally finished my painting from last year's residency at the Petrified National Park. I didn't quite make the 1 year deadline but hopefully will be forgiven. I'm still working on Alaska paintings so haven't really gotten ramped up on the PEFO work, but when I do I'd like to work big, maybe a wall sized 5-panel panorama of "The Most Beautiful Place in the World"

Other than that, I'm still struggling with trying to do too many things with too little time. Maybe I should make a list and see what I can eliminate. . .

(ok, I started the list but it got too overwhelming, so I will eliminate making a list, that's one thing crossed off anyway)

Sometimes I think I should give up blogging (and if I have any readers they are justified in thinking "I thought she DID give up blogging") but I can't quite do it yet. So I will try to update more often, because otherwise what's the point?  Which brings me to this post...  an excuse to upload my latest painting and do a little whining.

Stay tuned for a raccoon in a gold mine.

Giving it my best 10%

Sometimes what is supposed to be funny is what can really get under your skin. Which is why I had to laugh (so I wouldn't cry) over this story in the Newspaper of Record, The Onion. Find the thing you're most passionate about, then do it.  Funny, isn't it. >sob<

Ironically, read it just after I had gotten home from work, turned on my studio stove, made a pot of coffee, got out my painting clothes, sat down for a few minutes, turned off the heat in my studio, poured the coffee down the drain and put my clothes away, too exhausted to paint.

As I look over my last few entries, I get the sense that this artist is floundering a bit. Not from any lack of ideas and ambition, but maybe from too many directions I want to explore.

Well, if I can't straighten out my life, at least I can straighten out my brushes. I have an embarrassment of riches in the brush department, but can't seem to retire many of them. Just wish I held them in my hand more often.

But, looking on the bright side, only 112 more days till I leave for the Grand Canyon. I've been hitting the gym religiously for the last few months to get in shape for hiking, since, unlike the mostly  horizontal Petrified Forest, most of the GC hiking is up and down. It seems to be working, and in 112 days, I should be ready. I know I am mentally!

In my spare time, I've decided to start a blog that can be a meeting place for the many artists who have done residencies in the National Parks and Forests. I'm shielding the eyes of the Blogger logo as I type this, but I'm doing it on Wordpress, which is somewhat of a learning curve, but interesting. It's still in development, or as we geeks like to say, Beta. As soon as I work out the glitches I'll post the link, and if you have been an AIR, or are just interested in the program, I'd love to have you check it out!

Rest

I'm trying to finish some paintings that have been on my easel way too long. The above is the latest to get signed, although I still find my brush hovering over it. It's probably because I'm not really sure what direction this kind of work is taking me to. I am hoping that somehow my displaced creatures, entomological, microscope and taxidermy studies, Alaska paintings and yet to be tackled Petrified Forest NP paintings, diorama paintings (and anticipated Grand Canyon paintings) will all come together in a way that will be a sort of breakthrough for me. I feel like I'm due.

The only way to get there is to paint my way through it.

And although I don't know what the heck I'm doing painting wise, I do know a little about the Artist in Residence Program in the US Parks and Forests. I'll be giving a talk and Q&A about the programs as part of the Art League of RI Associate Member's Exhibition. If you've ever thought you might like to apply for one of these incredible opportunities, I'll be happy to answer your questions and give advice on applying.

alaska birds

Shrimp on ice

My studio was encrusted in snow and ice last weekend, but after running my little propane stove for a few hours I did manage to get the temp up to 50, which is a fine temperature for painting. It was also warmer than my house was all day Saturday, after the blizzard wiped out our power. Fortunately the heroic linemen of National Grid brought the power was back by Sunday to give me enough light to finish my painting, The Shrimp Net.

While we tooled around Prince William Sound on the Dora Keen during my Alaska residency the rangers dipped a shrimp pot into the fiord. "Dipped" being about 500 feet. That's a lot of cerulean blue rope. But 10 minutes of hoisting it back onto the deck rewarded us with dozens of these lovely creatures. As fascinated as I was by their glowing orange bodies and endless legs, equally fascinating was their disembodied heads, eyes no longer waving on their stems, and turning from ruby to black. I was not able to watch the part in between. Barbara and Tim popped off their heads as quickly as respectfully as the doomed shrimps could hope for, and put them on ice for a delicious dinner. Here's to you, little shrimpies.

Oystercatchers and Ice

I'm constantly conflicted, when I can steal some studio time, over whether to do studies for new paintings or to work on oils in progress. But the cold weather sometimes makes my decision easier, as the room I draw in is in my home, and my oil painting studio is in the cold garage. So even though I've divided the garage space in half with curtains to keep my little stove's meager heat from escaping, on really cold days I spare the propane and work on studies. These two are part of my developing series from my residency in Alaska. The top one is an Oystercatcher at Pakenham Point. I never got this close to them, but they would run ahead of me on the beach with a silly little giggle. Now I realize it was probably a nervous giggle, since they may have been trying to distract me from the eggs they may have had just sitting there in the rocks. Anyway, the Natural History Museum has a taxidermied eastern oystercatcher so I spent a few hours drawing him and he didn't move a muscle.

 

This one is an iceberg study, looking toward Surprise Glacier.

So studies are in the works, and I was very happy to have the chance to exhibit one of my few finished oils in the Newport Art Museum's Member's show (Up until May 19). And happy to win an honorable mention.

And even more happy in the placement of my piece, right smack as soon as you come in, under the color coordinated wall sign.  Thank you, NAM!