Questions to Ponder and Work on

Gail asked the other day, “What situations prevent you from being yourself? What's holding you back and what are you afraid of?”

A topic we can both work on and compare notes later. It’s definitely food for thought.

I thought about fear during meditation last night, and right on its heels came disappointment. Disappointment I’ve not finished the two books. Does that mean I have to let them go?

I don’t want to! I’m a writer. I had a couple of awesome adventures. Why can’t I tell my stories? It’s a driving force within me. I have to finish, or I feel incomplete … even though four years have gone by for one and three on the other.

The trips and the writing of them are important to me. I also feel I owe the people I talked to while traveling when asking their permission to tell their stories in the book. I thought of publishing/printing and costs … There’s as much work in the next step as there was in the actual writing. How can I pull this off? (Is this the fear?)

My books/writings are good! My paintings are good!

So, what holds me back from being myself; myself as a writer? (OK, this applies to painting, too.)

THE NEXT STEP. That’s what holds me back. I want to write and paint, but once the book is written and the paintings painted, my mind slams into a wall. I know what to do next, and I want it done, but I don’t want to do it! I just want to write and paint.

Oh, I know what everyone says about marketing and all that, and how that’s part of being a writer and artist. I’ve heard all the what-you-have-to-dos and I just can’t bring myself to do it, and it breaks my heart. Yes, I’ve self-published a couple of times already and I do art exhibits, but I just can’t take that step again.

Why? Because I have new things to accomplish. I love writing and painting. I do not enjoy doing the next part. It exhausts and depresses me. So, I’m stuck. And telling me I HAVE to do it to be published, to sell … and I have to change how I’m thinking about it, change my attitude and force myself … just makes me want to throw a temper tantrum or crawl into a hole.

I have to come up with an answer that fits me – or get lucky enough to somehow get a personal assistant who can do all the stuff I’m willing to do … and be able to pay this person. (So far, my prayers haven’t been answered on this one yet, ha-ha, but I’m still asking.)

I refuse to feel like a failure!

The Painting Muse Returned; I’m on Fire

I spent an hour in the studio on Thursday after spending a couple days making a new master list of paintings. I figured out how/where to set up the new tracer/projector and looked at a photo projection onto the paper. (This will be a new avenue for me to explore as I often doubt how I see perspective. I’m hoping the tracer will help.) Oops, the tracer doesn’t work on an in-process painting.

Following the Creek work in progress

I worked on the horizon of 19-009. (I’d started it sometime this summer then got distracted by gardening projects. Now, I’m back in the studio!) I titled it “Creek Along the Road,” didn’t like that title so renamed it “Following the Creek.” I stayed to the left side of the scene because this line of trees was slightly more forward than the right side, and the trees a little more prominent. I worked with pastel pencils, then went on to Senneliers.

The road in the photo is paved, but I want to create a dirt road … as if in the olden days. This will be a challenge. I worked the thinner horizon lines and I re-did the far edge of the top creek angle. Three times I tried to walk away, took photos, then saw something to “fix.”

I was back at it the next day, worked for 45 minutes. I'm always amazed when I notice things in the photo needing to be "fixed" that I didn't notice on the actual painting. Still so much to do.

I completed along the horizon and started adding shadows and color changes in grasses. There’s so much marsh grass, it’s hard to tell. I added more colors and hints of the purple grasses. I kept working the far creek banks.

I slipped back in the studio after viewing the photo and attempted to make the top section of the creek look like it’s winding back to the right. (Didn’t take a new photo.)

On Saturday, I took a break from editing to work in the studio. There's so much I want to (should do) like put tarps over the wicker furniture under the deck, get out the outside Christmas lights and work on that while it's a decent day ... but the studio called louder.

I worked all over, just working on whatever spoke to me in the moment. My paintings often come out a little dark (my photos do, too.) I don't know if that's how I see because when I try to go lighter, I'm not as happy with it. It looks like I'm matching the photo colors ... but once the fixative is sprayed and it's matted and under glass, it'll be even darker. Another lesson to figure out.

I ached from standing at the easel an hour. I might have it too high. I'm waiting to finish this painting, then I'll pull the easel out of the corner and lower it ... not as easy as it sounds (for me.)

I always find the learning curves interesting. You'd think after painting for years I'd have it all down pat, but there's a consistent evolution. Mediums changed, my style changes, technique gets better. The journey is fascinating, and I laugh at myself often now.

I’m still struggling with the impressionism aspect with the style. I keep wanting to put in those precise, detailed lines on the horizon like in the photo, but that doesn’t work with what I’m doing now. It’d be different if I was doing drawings but painting with pastels doesn’t allow me to do that.

Yes, I know there are pastel artists who do detailed work, but I’m not that focused. I need the softness, the smoothness. I am not as loose as other artists, so I’m trying to find my own way and develop my own style. 

Today, I was back at it after finishing the editing work and putting together my weekly column for the paper. This fell into one of those “don’t like it” days. I kept pushing until my knees were screaming and I had to sit down.

The photo I took of the progress had me heading back to make a couple of adjustments. There, better! I still have quite a bit to do … maybe I can finish this one tomorrow.

As always, the painting looks amazing from about 5 feet away.

Getting Back on the Artistic Horse

This morning there is a lot less ice in the brook than yesterday. Warmer temperatures and overnight rain melted most.

Yesterday was an interesting day. I fell into being a bit pissed with myself, but I'm really proud I was able to pull myself out. I stopped the downward spiral.

Creek Along the Road -- work in process

I worked in the studio for a while. I've done little this summer as a lot of time was spent out in the gardens. I hadn't realized how far behind I’d fallen with art timelines and note taking. I like keeping track of my progress to see where I struggled and where I made revelations.

I was frustrated when I couldn't find notes on what I'd done earlier -- and then, with the latest painting, I hadn't even started a spreadsheet on it! I can't believe that. I always start a spreadsheet, right off the bat! This means I don't even have a start date. I just know it was after June 4 because that's when I took the photos for inspiration.

So, the afternoon was spent going back through photos, and skimming logbooks and journals. I know I wrote about my work and progress! Why can't I find the notes? Arrghhh! I've struggled with this painting and to have the notes to look back on will help me with future paintings. 

But, in spite of my frustration, I didn't fall far down the rabbit hole this time. I caught myself and even though I continued to look, I didn't totally crash. (See the work with learning to live wholeheartedly is paying off!) I kept telling myself I have to go on from here, move forward. I didn't even beat myself up for wasting the entire afternoon looking for the info. I had to satisfy myself that, at least, I did look.

The interesting thing about yesterday's painting was deciding to spray fixative on the sky. I hadn’t tried doing a quick spray early on to try to stabilize the pastel. I’d been struggling getting the branches of the foreground tree right, and every time I messed up, I’d push tree color into the sky, then have to repair the sky ... again … and I like my skies.

My goal was to "fix" the sky so when I began adding more upper tree branches, I wouldn't muddy the sky with the charcoal and tree-color pastels. I hoped, with a quick spray, the smell wouldn't be bad. Taking the paper outside in the cold isn't such a good idea ... plus painter's tape doesn't hold a second time meaning I'd have to re-tape the paper back to the easel board.

It's not a good idea spraying fixative indoors, either! Even with the air purifier on, the room smelled awful after just a couple of quick squirts. I couldn't stay in there at all. Well, that didn't work. Next time I'll pull the paper and bring it outside no matter how cold. I let the air purifier run a couple hours and the room still smelled. I haven't checked to see how the pastel sky color are fixed, but I'm feeling good about it.

Lessons: Don't let the paintings sit a long time. Start and get it done! Keep up with the timelines and notes for future reference. Go back to spending 10-15 minutes daily or every other day -- I don't have to work for hours at a time.

Goodness, I feel I have a ton of catching up to do. I took almost the entire summer off from painting, distracted with other projects. But I remember how to ride a bicycle. I'm getting back on the horse!

The rain turns to big fat flakes of snow. It took only 15 minutes for a layer of heavy, wetness to lay on the deck and ground, and snow is sticking to branches and evergreen boughs. I took photos when it first changed, but I’m tempted to grab the camera again as the snow thickens on rocks in the brook making the big boulder look like some kind of fresh-water whale.

Living Wholeheartedly: Further Defining What It Means for Me

I came across the term “wholehearted living” from reading Brene Brown’s “The Gift of Imperfection.” Those two words spoke volumes, not in actual words, but in how the term reverberated through my soul. A fire was lit. This was it! This is what I’ve been working towards all along, and I grabbed onto that concept as if it was lifeline.

What first popped up in my mind were words about being a better person, such as: honesty, integrity, kindness, honor, gentle but strong; those qualities that define a good, kind person. Words I feel are important for living a good life. Ideals I want and believe I am. But it’s so much more …

And once I became aware, it began slowly working within me all the time. I’d catch myself in times of stress asking myself how I can live more wholeheartedly. I’d catch myself going down the rabbit holes of frustration and despair, but then those words would ring in my brain and I’d pull myself out. Live wholeheartedly!

I find I’m laughing at myself over certain situations. I’ve never done that before! Things that would upset me for days I am now seeing them in a different light. I’m able to re-look at how I’m reacting, reminding myself to live wholeheartedly and going over the few key words as to what living wholeheartedly means for me.

As time goes on, the life lessons and self-work continue to evolve. Life isn’t reading a chapter, taking a test and being done with it. Life constantly deals out lessons and challenges. It’s a continuing education. So, what does it mean to me to live a wholehearted life?

Wholehearted living does not have a how-to formula. It’s not something with specific steps, not a one-size-fits-all; our lives are not cookie cutters. It’s not about copying Brown’s work into my lifestyle because we live totally different lives. It’s about taking her basic concept and reforming it to my life – mentally and spiritually. Yes, some things ring true, but other aspects I need to change around and put my words to it.

I’m developing my own definitions to fit me at this stage of my life. It’s not about setting my beliefs as gospel for anyone else. It’s taking the concepts resonating in me and turning them into assets for my life.

I am choosing how I want to live my life and I’m “daring greatly” (another term she uses) to talk about it. I’m sharing my experience in how I’m finding my way in this world. I write about coping with life issues; not as a sob-woe-is-me story, but to share how I deal with the challenges and how I’m always striving to be a better person … not to prove something to others, but to live the most wholehearted life I can.

I think about what living wholeheartedly means, and beyond those first words I mentioned above are peacefulness, calmness, patience, resilience, doing the best I can, goodness and determination. There are also the clichés of going with the flow and finding balance. But I also consider: Taking the time to ask for Divine help/guidance; being true to self; allowing for imperfection; looking for joy and beauty every day; loving when I can and forgiving when I can, setting boundaries.

Creating boundaries is a bit of a toughie, but necessary for someone empathetic. Setting boundaries for me means cutting myself of from negativity/anger; not falling into media hype traps and avoiding people/corporations trying to sell me the next best thing.

Setting boundaries doesn’t mean cutting myself off from the world – although I am consciously doing so in many cases. It doesn’t mean I don’t have compassion. It’s about choosing what I can comfortably allow into my life. It’s about changing what I’m thinking about the minute I start falling into despair by some negative comment or event.  

It’s still a work in progress. I’m sure other aspects will surface, and I’ll make adjustments.

What does/would it mean to you to live wholeheartedly?

Emotions, Excuses, and Making Adjustments to Move Forward

It’s been awhile since I’ve written about art … and even been in the studio. (Except to water plants.) Art was kind of put on hold for the summer as so many other projects took forefront. Plus, I don’t like the last pastel painting I had framed. Does feeling that way add to my dragging my feet to get back to painting?

Oh, I’ve made feeble attempts, then walked away discouraged. I lost the creative fire, and with poetry, too. Maybe it was the summer with the creative endeavors and energy going into designing more gardens. I enjoy flowers.

Crowded studio with plants brought in for the winter

Now I’m ready to get back into the pastels ... but I’m hesitant. There’s still one partial painting on one tabletop easel. There’s another I started on the big standup easel (then wiped most off and restarted). There are two others on tabletop easels with a brief hen scratches drawn on.

What’s the matter with me? I get photos and for a moment I’m inspired … then the flames die back. I’ll start something and think it’ll be quick and easy, then the minute I run into a challenge, I give up.

Time for reflection and figuring out the next step in my artist’s evolution.

Time to reorganize and revamp my crowded studio

The other day I returned to one I’d started after my trip to the seacoast in June. This is the one I’d wiped initial workings off. I love the scene. I’m just having trouble getting the perspective.

One of the problems, which I realize I do to myself, is I will take three or four photos from different angles figuring I’ll incorporate favorite aspects into one painting. Doing this means perspective will be off, and I need to make adjustments to create a good composition. Perhaps that is an immediate setup for problems – but I’ve done it before, so why am I struggling now?

I wrote a blog last week on creating structure that works for my size, height, weight, flexibility, etc. Maybe this line of thought works on my studio space, too. I considered the height of my easels and where I tape the paper I paint on.

Three things stood out.

One, I paint standing up and usually tape the paper so it’s eye-level where I can better see what I’m doing. In re-thinking this, I realize this height makes me raise my arms and shoulders higher than comfortable, which in turn, creates tension across my upper back and shoulders. (And it doesn’t help I now have arthritis in my back.)

Two, earlier this year I read about making the work space more up right so excess pastel dust falls off into the tray and less gets out into the air. I adjusted my easels. Now, in thinking about that, along with the easel height, I realize an upright angle is not comfortable for me.

Three, perhaps I should narrow my focus to only one or two paintings on an easel at a time. Part of me rebels at this because this has been one of my quirks of how I work. I’ve used this as part of my rebellion at doing it like other artists.

Pencil sketch of "Winding Through Autumn" -SW

The other day a friend posted a scenic photo I fell in love with and was given permission to use it for a painting. I printed a copy in color and one in grayscale. That evening I did a pencil sketch while watching TV. I was very pleased, not only with the result, but for the fact I usually get bored with sketches and give up!

Time to set up for the painting. Yesterday, I adjusted the angle of one of the table easels, then contemplated the height of the table. The legs are on 6-inch bed risers to raise the height. I’m afraid if I take the table off the risers, the easel with then be too low. I walked out of the room without doing anything else.

This morning I discussed the dilemma with my neighbor. He said we can use blocks of wood leftover from when he just rebuilt the garage steps. This way we can create the perfect height for me to work comfortably.

I’m excited again and can’t wait to get to it!

Deadlines and Feeding My Soul

Working on the summer guide, my big spring project which I only have about two weeks to get done on top of everything else I do, is finally in its finishing stages. Hopefully, I’ll have my end of it done today.

The stress was definitely less this morning (except for the nuisance blue jays) and was the first day this year I had the slider and front door open. I went outside early to put up feeders. I can’t resist the little birds, though I chase off the jays. It was raining, but warm; so warm, I stayed outside to do a morning yard walk-about. I’m always amazed at how much plants grow overnight. Very exciting … except for weeds, black flies and mosquitoes, and my fear of ticks.

I considered moving a few more rocks to create a new flower garden, but with the wetness, the dirt on the rocks, and the fact I overdid it a bit yesterday (my back was sc-uh-reaming last night), I decided against it. But I so wanted to! I stood there surveying my little yard contemplating how I’m going to extend the new garden. I can’t wait … but I have to take my time, do a little at a time. It’s the way I need to work nowadays, and that’s OK.

What is the difference between what I want to do and what I feel I have to do? What I really want/need to do is paint more and when did I last do any real writing, like work on a book? I want to do the gardening, too, before the days get too hot and buggy. These are the things that feed my soul, and I always get extra stressful when I'm not nourishing my inner being.

I went through my pile of accumulated notes the other night. I’m always making lists and writing down thoughts and ideas to work on later, and the pile of paper gets higher. 

There are so many projects and writings I start working on, but they fall by the wayside. It leaves me feeling incomplete, discombobulated. For some reason, that latter word comes to my mind a lot. I think it really describes how I feel often. I've used it often throughout the years. 

The last couple of days I've done my journaling in early evening because I chose to work in the morning to meet dual deadlines with the summer guide and the regular weekly edition. That meant I gave up my meditation time. It doesn't help with it staying lighter later as I'm not getting to my “nesting time” until later.

Butterfly Bounce

April 27, 2019

7:20 a.m.

The roar of the brook – no, river – buzzes under the music playing inside the house. I pull back the curtains on the slider to welcome the morning. Oooeee, the water levels had risen over night! No wonder it’s so loud. The huge boulder in the middle of the brook is totally covered over, the water rushing over it in waves.

The torrent rages with lots of white crests as water gushes over rocks and bounces off the banks on its hurry to get to the lake. I consider waiting until the rain stops, but I have to go out now and don flannel shirt, coat, and sneakers.

I take many photos from the deck overlooking the brook, but that’s not enough. I have to get closer and gingerly make my way down the steps to wade through wet leaves and wintergreen with its red berries creating tiny pops of bright color in all the dullness. My feet are soaked by the time I make the 50 feet or so to the top of the bank.

The noise is almost deafening. For a few seconds, I just stare, mesmerized by the turbulence. There are so many nooks and crannies, small waterfalls as water rushes over boulders then splashes in brighter whiteness before gushing on. With all the different nuances I could stand here watching for quite a while.

I work my way a few yards downstream to take photos from various angles, then work upstream. It starts raining harder and water drips off my hair, runs down my face, and soaks into my coat. I make my way back to the house and finish my regular morning routine. But even when settled in my chair, the movement of the water, seen through the slider and between the deck balusters, keeps distracting me. Oh, I love this view!

***

"Martha's Sunset" pastel painting in process

The garden muse has been winning out, but as it was raining yesterday, I slipped into the studio to do a little art work. I debated the two new floral sketches I’d started and thought about the next landscape, but with three in process paintings on the easels already … I turned to “Martha’s Sunset.”

And again, I contemplated giving up on “Grassy Dunes,” but it’s not letting me.

I have to admit, there’s something fascinating with experimenting and figuring out how to get a specific effect. I get one part looking OK (to me), but then something else needs adjusting. I know I can’t make it exactly like the photo (because that’s not what I do), so the goal is to just make it look really intriguing. There’s a line of trees between the darker ones and the mountain range. I feel I’m struggling, yet, it’s not looking too bad. I’m not even sure how I’m going to do the foreground. It’s rather featureless. I guess I’ll just have to improvise.

In the meantime, I had to get back to editing. There’s a deadline to meet.

By 3 p.m. today and deadline met, I was glad I went out to the brook this morning. The water levels dropped once it stopped raining, and while occasionally the water gushes over the top of the huge boulder, it’s no longer totally covering it.

I do get carried away with taking photos, but I love sharing the beauty of my surroundings through pictures posted on Facebook. It’s my way of giving to the community.

Once more the butterfly bounce carries me from project to project: writing, painting, editing for the newspaper, taking photos, and more. Oh, and this time of year, the flowering gardening adds another component. A little done here, a little done there and I happily follow my heart’s whim.

Surrender to the Mystery

I open the slider curtains being careful not to step on Pele. I spend a minute looking around to see what has her attention, but nothing catches my eye. I move on with my morning routine and while at the kitchen sink preparing to make coffee, I look out at the brook.

Taking flight

Something unusual catches my eye. Tall and skinny with long legs, it takes a few seconds for my brain to register. A great blue heron is standing on the huge boulder in the middle of the brook! He is very aware of me. He must have been watching when I opened the slider curtains. I’m surprised he didn’t fly off.

I quickly grab my camera, but the height won’t work out nor is there a clear shot through the screen. I use manual focus and press the shutter button a couple times anyway. I move over to the slider, but the deck railing blocks the view.

The only alternative is to stand on a stool (an iffy attempt for me). Will he still be there? He’s definitely watching as I hoist myself up on the stool, but he doesn’t fly away, and I focus the camera and get more photos. We watch each other. I wait for him to move … and wait.

I love Pele's reflections in the glass

Leo comes to the door and Pele is just on the inside. They are face to face. I take a quick photo looking down on them. Leo rattles the screen to come in. The blue heron watches. He finally hops off the rock to land in the water.

I gingerly get off the stool, shoo Pele out of the way and let Leo in. I slip out the door in bare feet. The thermometer reads 38 degrees. I carefully cross the deck hoping to get a closer, clearer view of the big bird, but this is too close for the heron and he spreads his wings and flies up the brook. There are too many trees to get any photos. I hurry back inside. Brrr, it’s cold!

In reading “The Artist’s Way Every Day” by Julia Cameron, I was really taken by her comment, “Surrender to the mystery of the creative journey.” Yes! Yes! This is exactly what I do without realizing it – when I’m not caught up in trying to “get it right,” ha-ha.

Creativity, for me, is a mystic journey whether it’s painting or poetry. I seldom know where it’s really going or how it will come out – until it’s done. I love the surprise.

Today’s work in the studio had me adding touches to the sky. Then I moved down the page and began working the horizon. I dab and daub and rub and feather. I make a few sharper lines, blend colors allowing the mystery and the discovery to be revealed.

"Martha's Sunset" in process

It’s quite the challenge when working from more than one photograph. I use one photo for the main scene but choose various sections from the other photo(s). Often there is … what I call busy-ness … that clutters a scene and I’ll leave that out. Other times I’ll add extra bushes or rocks depending how I want to shape the composition.

What’s interesting, too, is if someone is familiar with the scene, it’s still recognizable even with the changes I make. They’d have to look really hard to know what’s different.

Earlier I lined framed paintings on the couch. (I need to find wall space – some will be off to a show.) Of course, I have my favorites, and I notice the progression in my style and technique.

Yeah, if I look hard, I can always find something I should have done, but I can’t dwell on that. I laugh at myself thinking if I did that particular scene over … Yep, there’s always room to improve … and even ones I may not fully like in the end have an opportunity to, perhaps, return to and finish someday and make totally beautiful.

I’m amazed at what I’ve accomplished. I am so happy! There is just something about having pastel in my hand and my hand moving to create and enhance the scene. Or holding a pen to page or fingers on a keyboard to write. The creativity flows and the heart and soul are filled with joy.

Working through the Challenges

19-008 “Martha’s Sunset” WIP; Started March 1, 2019

I got back in the studio and really worked the sky. It’s a challenge, for sure, choosing the correct shades of gray, blue, orange, cream and yellow.

And then, my hand just moves without my thinking about what to do. How much do I trust that I’m doing what I’m supposed to? I layered, I rubbed, I wiped off and did it all again.

I kept stepping back and every time I did, I bump into my pastel cart. I finally wheeled it out of the way after saying, “Ow!” too many times.

I worked more than I meant to at this time. As usual, whenever I walked away, I’d turn around to look, see something to adjust, and go back. In the end, I decided to shorten the foreground and moved the tape up 1 ½ inches.             

I’m pleased with the progress. I’m always amazed the painting is never exactly like the photograph, but then, to try to get it exact would drive me crazy. I enjoy letting the picture help create itself.

A Scene Calling to Photographed and Painted

Chickadees keep my Pele-kitty entertained

The morning of April 8 was dark and rainy. I recited the old adage “April showers bring May flowers” knowing every day will bring new sprouts shooting up out of the ground. There are already some sturdy looking shoots coming up in an area I don’t remember planting anything. It’ll be exciting to see what those are … tulips, daffodils? Some kind of first-up perennials of the year.

The garden manual I began four years ago has not been updated in a long time. (Neither has my editing manual.) Both have been pushed into the background as other projects take my time. I can’t complain as I follow my heart – and whatever muse has me at the moment. I like it. Life is interesting and I make it more so by finding things I enjoy.

April 9 was another dark rainy morning. The ground was still white-spotted from the occasional icy snow the day before. The frosting on the hemlock and spruce boughs were eye catching.

It was foggy, too, when I headed out to pick up my friend Jane and to meet our other friend, Nan, for breakfast. The dirt roads were wet and a little slick. I like going the back way because the scenery is more enjoyable. Driving was better on the paved roads.

We passed a picturesque area calling to be photographed. Fog wound around an impressive birch tree on the top of a hill. The tree’s branches formed an eye-catching elegance, like a stately lady posed at the top of the stairs waiting to be noticed. Evergreens rimmed the bottom of the hill; the lady’s audience waiting with applause, and in the far distances, more trees and mountains.

I’ve taken photos of this scene in the past. One I used as inspiration for a charcoal drawing, and another was a summer scene for a pastel painting. None were from this angle and neither had fog. (Funny how a direction change can make a scene totally different.)

I didn’t want to stop because we all had other things to do. As it was, it was going to be a short breakfast (and, of course, breakfast and conversation was good.) But I was a bit disappointed. I seldom get out on a foggy day and I so love doing fog paintings.

****

Today, April 10, starts out as another gray morning but no fog. The back deck has more snow than the previous day. It's all pock marked, so it looks funny. I guess other drippings caused it ... not sure how exactly. It looks like the deck was spread in sunflower seeds, then a light layer of icy snow covered it.

Yesterday’s scene of the birch tree is calling me. It wants to be photographed and painted. Should I make a run over? Go now before I settle into the day’s projects? Should I time it to be able to get lunch takeout at in in-town restaurant?

I finish my morning routines, and, for the few moments between projects, that scene begins calling louder. I have to go, I have to! If I wait and spring really starts emerging, that particular view will be blocked.

Looks like a flying saucer crash landed

I don outerwear, then take photos of the brook before leaving. The ice on one of the bigger rocks looks like a flying saucer crash-landed. The temperature is only 32 degrees and the roads are covered in icy snow in many places. I drive with a little more care. Tree branches, frosted in white, bend from the weight of ice. The ice gives them a lacy-ness. Mother Nature creating works of art.

I reach the spot I call “the Hill” in eight minutes. Uh, oh, there’s a ditch alongside the road with running water. There’s no room to pull over. Too much brush and fallen trees don’t give a clear view of the scene I want from the roadside.

There’s an old pull-off space probably used years ago by the old farm. I don’t dare park there for fear of getting stuck or having the weight of the car force it to cave into the ditch. I don’t want to park farther down the hill because it would be too hard for me to walk back up.

Hmmm, what to do. I want this picture! It is a quiet morning, not much traffic here. I’m going to chance it. I leave the car running with the blinker on and grab my camera. I don’t usually go on someone else’s property without permission, but this area is far enough from the house I don’t feel I’m trespassing.

I cross the ditch and pick my way through dead leaves and field grasses, going around a couple of big bushes to reach the stone wall bordering the field that is home to the birch tree. I get seven photos before the camera stops working. Oops, dead battery. Seven should do it, though.

These scene calls me and calls me

Back home, after giving Pele and Leo kitty attention, I import and edit the photos, getting ready to print when something Nan said yesterday rattles my brain. She said she always prints a black and white photo along with a color one. This helps her with values.

Duh! I used to do that all the time! When did I stop? And why? Goodness. So, I edit four of the photos to also be gray scale and print them all. I’m not sure which angle I’ll choose for the painting. I’ll spend some evenings playing around with preliminary sketches.

While I was at it, I also gray scale the three in-process paintings currently on the easels. I’m still shaking my head how I let this important step slide out of my awareness.

The sun is poking through and I’m eager to get in the studio.

Distractions and Detours

I let Leo, the neighbor’s cat, out to chase off the gray rats. (He visits every day.) I sit back down and movement-reflection in the slider glass has me turn to look out the window of the front door. The chickens are out across the street and flapping their wings in the sunlight. They make my insides smile. I like to see the chickens and ducks. They cheer me up.

Not quite the angle that I wrote about from my chair inside

Turning back towards the slider, sunlight filters down between hemlocks and bare trees creating a dappled play with light and shadow. A gaping, dark hole between the ice layer and water catches my attention. The caverns along the far edge of the brook are bigger today. One section of the top ice shelf on that side stretches across the water towards a shelf on the nearer side looking like huge yawning mouths … or toothless old men grinning at each other over a game of checkers.

It’s hard to look away, but it’s time to get in the studio. Yesterday, I received some tips on how to paint raindrops and want to put what I discovered to the page. But first, a detour outside for photos and a little fresh air. Leo joins me on the back deck. He jumps up on the rail and keeps brushing against me as I try to focus the camera. Silly boy. He likes it when I’m outside with him.

Back inside, I still don’t get to the studio. It’s lunch time, my big meal of the day. I peel potatoes and put them on to boil, and while waiting, I start editing photos taken two days ago. Yeah, I’m behind again.

I scoop the cooked potatoes into the big, round, yellow bowl that was once my grandmother’s. I love this bowl; it’s a perfect for potato mashing. (It was once a set with a shorter square bowl that my mother used to use for Jello.) I add a little milk and mash until most the lumps are gone, then cut up a stick of butter and shake salt and pepper into the concoctions mashing it all into the potatoes. I take my first taste to make sure it’s how I like them … add some garlic salt. Oh, my gosh, so good! Mashed potatoes are my favorite comfort food!

We had potatoes a lot growing up. Dad had a huge garden with one section a big potato field. My mother would either cut up the potatoes for home fries (sometimes mixing in hotdogs which I didn’t like at all), or she’d just peel and boil the heck out the ‘taters. She didn’t like milk, so we’d just ladle a couple of potatoes onto our plates and mash them with a fork adding margarine (we never had butter growing up) and salt and pepper.

The only time we had mashed potatoes with milk mixed in was on Christmas when Dad’s sisters would visit. They always cooked Christmas dinner, and Nellie would put milk in the potatoes and in the carrots. (Mashed potato in hot lunches in junior and high school back then was instant potato crap – awful, tasteless stuff!)

Talk about a detour! This was supposed to be about pastel painting!

I finally made it into the studio. I’ve been so involved with “After the Rain,” I’ve been ignoring this. Today I decided to poke at it and added more color. Sometimes taking artistic license from how the photo looks exactly brings on new challenges. I end up creating parts that aren’t in the photo to bring it all together, and sometimes I really struggle with that because I can’t always get a clear picture in my head.

I like to bring some of the foreground into play a little early to help give perspective and show where I’m going. It helps me see possibilities. There is so much foliage in the picture and it’ll be interesting to see how I deal with that.

Ready to Move on to the Next Pastel Painting

There's snow on top, then layers of ice. Between the lower ice shelf and the water, icicles hang down, some looking like fierce sharp teeth and others like they should be on a crystal chandelier. The water, what is visible, is dark and fast-flowing shooting out from under one section of snow-covered ice to disappear under another. 

Some snow/ice sections are shaped like irregular flying saucers with a wider white top and tapering down to a smaller-circumferenced ice stand or rock with dark cave-like openings along the shoreline. I can't help but look and get caught up in the minute variations. I finally edited and posted photos taken the past four days.

Driving home from breakfast with artist friends on Wednesday, the gauge in the car read 34 degrees. I went out on the back deck to take photos of the brook and the thermometer there read 42 degrees. Not that warm, but with the sun, it felt balmy. I took my time, put up a couple of bird feeders. (I only put them up when I’m sitting here and take them down at night.)

The ducks were out across the street and ran down the driveway to the edge of the road where snow melt was running. It was funny to see them trying to splash in the small stream and hearing their nasally “Quack, quack, quack,” and seeing their little tails wag. Soon they settled onto a bare section of lawn where the warm sun had melted the snow.

One of the issues with living alone and being an artist is there’s no one else to pick up the slack of doing chores. I can’t devote the time on pastel painting or writing as much as I’d like. It’s necessary to take care of every-day living. Sometimes a few days go by before I can get back in the studio.

Interruptions to the creative flow can make it harder to return to a project. I deal with that by taking one day at a time and not stressing over what I’m not getting done. I strive to enjoy every moment and celebrate even the little accomplishments. And I do accomplish something good every day!

I managed to sneak tweaks here and there on the rose of Sharon painting and signed it. I decided not to crop it. I practiced more with raindrops, and after re-doing them, I called the painting done, let it sit for a day, then sprayed it with fixative.

As always, I question. Am I really done? Should I do more? Too often, though, excess tweaking doesn’t help. I need to walk away and leave it alone. And already, paintings on the other easels are calling, “Me! Me! My turn!”

Am I Done or Should I Do More?

A few light flakes were falling at 7 a.m. and it was only 21 degrees with a predicted day’s high of 35. The sky looked light, more so towards the east. I figured once the sun was higher, it would burn through any overcast and be sunny – and it was.

Once more there are decisions to make on the day’s projects: write, paint, chores, take photos … Lately, I tend to go with whatever I’m feeling in the moment.

Monday is laundry and after the first load was in the dryer and second in the washer, I went out to unblock the dryer vent. I prop a brick against the little door to stop rodents from getting inside.

While outside, I took photos of the brook. It’s fascinating this time of year because the snow, ice, and water flow is always changing, and the formations are intriguing.

 I now have four days of brook photos to edit and post. I’m falling behind on photo editing. I used to do photos every day, but lately, writing and pastel painting are taking my time – along with newspaper work.

I didn’t get in the studio until late yesterday. I’m still deciding if the painting is finished. Of course, I can’t leave it alone and I pick at it here and there. Too often I don’t like the tweaking and end up fixing the changes Sometimes I wish I hadn’t touched it.

The photo used for inspiration was taken on a rainy day and I’d hoped to capture the raindrops. I’ve been doing some practice, but the raindrops on the blossoms are small. It’s hard to get the right look.

The verdict is still out whether I’m finished, although I did sign the painting. I like it a lot and can’t wait for it to find a new home. I’m ready to move on to the next one.

Great Start to the Day

I go out to open the dryer vent and take photos. Odd tracks on the deck caught my attention earlier and I want a closer look. Some looked four-toed and others five. In the melting snow, the tracks are a bit muddled. I can’t see tell-tale hind foot tracks. When I let Leo out earlier, he stopped just outside the slider and sniffed at the tracks for a long time before venturing down the deck. I can’t see tell-tale hind foot tracks. A fat gray squirrel down by the brook watches me hang a couple of feeders on the deck hooks. The tracks on the deck are too big to be from her.

At 36 degrees, it feels warm after the days of bone-chilling cold. Instead of hurrying back inside, I stand at the railing letting my senses take in the beauty around me. A couple of tiny ice crystals land on the rail. I breathe deeply the fresh air. The morning is so peaceful! No human neighborhood noises. The only sounds are the whispers in the trees. The scene looking from the back deck is beautiful. I drink it all in. (And take lots of photos.)

Bright snow clings to bare limbs, angled tree trunks, and hemlock boughs. The brook is totally snowed in but for one or two places. The white puffs piled high on top of the layers of an ice-covered rock look to be 18-24 inches deep (as does the snow on my roof). Tracks through the snow leading to the bottoms of trees and circling around old vegetation sticking out of the snow mingle with other depressions in the snow created from clumps dropping from the trees.

A pale sun pushes white through the overcast as the sky begins to clear. Chickadees call, “Phoeeeebeee” in the trees. This is how I want life. Peaceful, with nature, and all the beauty Mother Nature has to offer.

Oh, if every morning could start this way … but there’s laundry to do, writing to get done, and a painting to finish. Oh, and the kitties want play time.  However, I am going to do my best to make each day be as glorious as this morning!

My intent was to get in the studio and finish today, but I also knew that was wishful thinking. I spent about 45 minutes picking at it. I’m close. I almost signed it. There are still things to tweak, though. I’ll have to look at it for a couple days more.

I touched up almost everything and practiced adding raindrops. Not sure how to do those and I just made notes for touch ups the next time I’m in the studio after looking at this progress photo.

What it would look like cropped.

Now I’m also debating whether to leave it this size or crop it. I like the leaves on the left, but is it too much background? And, the thing is, here I’m looking at it close-up, but standing five or more feet away, it looks pretty darn good.

Stealing Moments Here and There to Paint

Friday rolled around and although it was an editing day, I found a little time to get in the studio. I added more leaves on the left side and some woody background stems. Those need some work and I need to figure out how to tackle that.

I pretty-much finished the first flower except for highlighting the rain drops. I’ll probably save those for last. I started work on the next flower down. I had taken a couple notes from the in-process photo I’d taken after the work on Wednesday.  The in-process photos show me elements that I don’t notice on the actual painting. The photo shows me where to touch up.

It’s nice to have options in viewing. I realize, too, I’m still lacking in the purple department and green. I have a lot of greens, but sometimes I just don’t have the right shade. It’s still coming along, and I’m pleased with the progress.

The Muse had me by the throat on Saturday, however, by the time I had my work done and could spend time in the studio, she was gone. I stood at the easel for about 15 minutes, made a couple of hen-scratches, but my heart and head weren’t in it.

Today was one of those days when I was talking to Carol on the phone while painting … or rather, I painted while talking. These times are interesting because my hand just moves while my mind is preoccupied with the conversation. Working like this, I don’t overthink what I’m doing. (Which is a good thing because my overthinking brain can send me into confusion.)

I added lighter color, more highlights and more leaves. I changed the shape of the top right flower (blossom 3) because it didn’t look right. It’s much better now.

The purple and blue-violet pastels I have are not the exact color of the photos, but it doesn’t matter. The painting is not about being an exact match. No one will know unless they see the photo. And it still won’t matter.

There’s lots to do, yet. I need to soften dark lines in the blossom 2, but I’m pleased with how it’s coming along. I’m enjoying this one. Maybe this means I should do more florals.

Challenges in the Latest Pastel Painting

Rose of Sharon, 10 3/4 x 14 on BF Rives print paper

At the end of January, I felt the need to do another floral. I’m not good at getting the right perspective, contours, and depths of flowers, so on Jan. 30, I printed 5 x 7 photos of a couple of rose of Sharon pictures I took last year.  I laid a sheet of BF Rives paper on the kitchen counter (it had the bigger, cleaner space), got out the transfer paper and, using two photos, traced the flowers onto the paper creating a new scene.

I put the sketch on the big easel on Feb. 1 after removing the finished painting and cleaning up. I took measurements, labeled it 19-005 unsure what to use for an actual title. I started laying in the underlayer with pan pastels. I realized I didn’t have the right color blue-violet for the flowers. That entailed placing an order to Blick.

I returned to Rose O’ on March 3. I wiped away the wrong color on the flowers and added other colors. I know I was done the background and leaves which are under the flowers, but adding some subject colors helps me see determine how to proceed and gives me a semblance of how the painting will come out.

I added browns to the background scruffing up the colors to create a textured look. I’m not following the photos closely. I’m eager to get farther along, but there’s still a lot of background to build.

I was back in the studio this morning. I intended to start a pastel for the cover design of my poetry book now that I have a vision of what the cover should look like. However, instead I walked over to Rose O’ and began working on that. I didn’t even stop to put on a mask … but I did turn on the air purifier.

I added some background, then began adding definition to leaves. I concentrated on the area around the first flower in the upper left. It’s hard because there are overlapping leaves and I can’t tell with the photos where one leaf ends and another begins.

I moved on to the flower itself. Now that the leaves are in, I can make the petals overlap. I tend to lay the soft pastels in a little thick which creates a challenge when I want to put in detail lines which is best with pastel pencil. Unfortunately, pencils are usually harder which only pushes a groove in the soft pastel without adding the pencil color.

I try using edges of broken pastels, but I have difficulty telling where the point/edge is and end up getting the line in the wrong place. Some work better that others. What works best is a soft charcoal pencil. I’ll soften the line using a pastel tool.

For the most part, I’m happy with the first blossom, but work is still needed on the right side. I have an idea for the next time I’m in the studio. I also need to do the stamen (the yellow part).