20″x16″ oil on linen panel

I am taking a Kevin Mc Phearson workshop this week. It is delightful. Today we painted with limited color pallets en plein air. All three are oil on linen. 11×14″

Burnt sienna, ochre, and black

Dioxin Purple, cadmium orange, and phtalo green

Burnt sienna, black, yellow ochre

Painting on the way to NM, thanks to my trusty Odyssey, and a delightfully overcast day.

“Mom who is that?”
“My cousin Katharine.”
“The beautiful one?” My son asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
Inside and out beautiful pretty much sums her up.

From the photos my dad and Uncle took, her wedding was lovely too.

10×8 pastel on sanded paper.
I created this painting as a commission from a couple of beach photos. The photos were at different times of day, it was fun playing with the possible compositions and colors (thumbnails really are helpful).

I love to watch little bits of green sneak into the winter world of brown and grey. Green comes into an uncertain time: warm, or bitter cold, windy, or calm as can be. I watched a breathtaking tulip tree blossom out to soon, and a cold snap froze every last flower she produced. On wobbly legs the first blooms and baby animals cautiously come into the world, and step by step the green returns.

Being a local artist in the community and having four children, I was of course asked to help come up with ideas for the auction at the Gala which raises funds for our school. It was fun to think of ideas that many children could work on bit by bit and produce something that someone would want to bid on. It was delightful and chaotic to work with the kids. All 4 canvases are 24″x30″. They were created with mixed media, and among the collage you can find: homework, math problems, rough draft essays, sheet music from band and choir.

If you’re from the South you know of a plant called “Spanish Moss”. It’s neither spanish or moss! However
There are some legends associated with it.
For those speakers and storytellers coming to the south telling one of these stories will make you a hit!

A Spanish soldier fell in love at first sight with an Indian chief’s favorite daughter. Though the
chieftain forbade the couple to see each other, the Spaniard was too lovestruck to stop meeting the
maiden in secret. The father found them out and ordered his braves to tie the Spaniard high up in
the top of an ancient oak tree.

The Spaniard had only to disavow his love to be freed, but he steadfastly refused. Guards were
posted to keep anyone — the chief’s daughter above all –from giving food or water to the
poor Spaniard. The Spaniard grew weaker and weaker, but he still would not renounce his
love for the girl.

Near the end, the Chief tried to persuade him once more to stay away from his daughter. The Spaniard
answered that not only would he refuse to disavow his love, but that his love would continue to grow
even after death. When at last the Spaniard died the chief kept the body tied up in the tree as a
warning to any other would-be suitors.

Before long, the Indians began to notice that the Spaniard’s beard continued to grow. The Indian
maiden refused ever to take a husband — unless the Spaniard’s beard died and vanished from the
tree. As the years went by, the beard only grew stronger and longer, covering trees far from the
Indian maiden’s village. Legend says that when the Spanish Moss is gone, the Spaniard’s love will
have finally died with it.

Here’s Another Version

There’s an old, old legend, that’s whispered by Southern folks, About the lacey Spanish Moss that garlands the great oaks. A lovely princess and her love, upon their wedding day, Were struck down by a savage foe amidst a
bitter fray;
United in death they were buried, so the legend go “Neath an oak’s strong, friendly arms, protected from their foe;
There, as was the custom, they cut the bride’s long hair with love And hung its shining blackness on the spreading
oak above; Untouched, undisturbed it hung there, for all the world to see. And with the years the locks turned grey and spread from tree to tree.

I set up my easel to paint, and as the shadows lengthened, my kids gathered with their new friends in front of me and played a game of ball. Lydia played with her brothers GI joes at my feet, she brought out their more wholesome sides.

I thought of how inspired I was by Sorolla’s figures on the beach, but decided to nap instead of put in the ball players into my painting. It is vacation after all.