Quiet Rain

7″x5″ pastel on sanded paper

Into each life some rain must fall.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A few houses back, I put a rain gauge on a piece of wood with this quote in my garden. I love the literal and the metaphorical meaning.

Yesterday my feet were wet all day long, it was a little reminder that most days I enjoy the luxury of dry socks, and that yesterday I got to start my day with a splash!

Please enjoy a celebration of pink paintings this month, in honor of breast cancer awareness. I paint for my friends and family who have fought the good fight against cancer, for their families, and for all caregivers who help along with the journey toward a healthy self (body, soul, and spirit). In my strokes of pink, are prayers of strength and healing.

Walking to School – SHOW!

24″x36″ oil on canvas

Please come see my show “Walking to School”! It will open at the Sunderman Gallery There will be an opening reception 6-8pm, Thursday, September 13th. 5100 Ross Avenue, DALLAS,TX 75206

I use my art as a way to notice something beautiful everyday. “Walking to School” has been a whimsical fun series chronicaling my second grade daughter’s daily walks to school.   My 3 older children all start school an hour before my youngest. We like to eat breakfast as a family, so that leaves Lydia and I an extra hour every morning. What I am trying to do is not waste our gift of time, the phrase “killing time” is a phrase that makes me so sad. Instead of “killing” that time I have painted it, and all the adventures and beauty that we found in those extra hours. This series is about half landscapes of what we have seen on our daily walks and half mixed media pieces of people walking. It includes: homework, tardy slips and bit and pieces we collected along the way.  In addition to many kinds of media, I have used a bit of magical realism in these paintings. For example, in “Spokes and Shadows” the light was beautiful, the shadows were beautiful, but the backdrop was generic new suburbia. In my mind, I saw a fantastic tree lined drive, with a young girl pumping up a hill onto great things. In the painting, I created the leaves with bits of homework. As the leaves fell, I could imagine the days and years and the entirety of Lydia’s childhood landing on the drive as she confidently rode into the future.

These paintings are about being present: we put away the phone, compose a rhyme or poem, talk about the day, share our hopes and dreams, plan dinner or our next family celebration.  We notice what is in bloom, when the leaves change color, or when someone repainted their front door. We have noted that all those carpoolers don’t have a chance to: meet a new neighbor, pet a kitten, do a cartwheel, twirl a tutu, pick a flower or sneak a fresh fig hanging over the fence.

In painting this series, my hope is you will be reminded of a sweet memory of when you walked with your friends, siblings, or parent to school. Or you will be reminded of when your child walked to school. Perhaps you will be inspired to be present and get out and find the beauty and life that is in YOUR neighborhood waiting for you to just enjoy and discover!  Perhaps you can grab your dog, or kid, or mom, or neighbor and embark in a simple way to really live your life…go for a walk.

Waiting with Trembling Hands

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I read an article last night in Smithsonian magazine about a neurosurgeon who teamed up with a neurologist. It seems like a logical team, but apparently it is unusual for those two disciplines to work together. These two Doctors figured out a way to insert a small electrical probe into people’s brains, and stop a tremor caused by a stroke or Parkinson’s Disease. The article went on to recount one particular patient and his journey towards elective surgery (it was affecting his golf swing) and play by play of his surgery (which he was awake for). To test if the probe was in the right place they had him draw spirals on a clip board during different stages of the surgery. The surgery was a success, his spirals went from shaky to smooth. As I fell asleep I wondered who would elect to have brain surgery.

Then today I got in the car to drive to NM with my dear husband. He likes to drive, so I had all day to sit. Why not paint? We weren’t in a car actually, we were in a SUV, and it was a fairly bumpy drive. I had time and desire to paint, but couldn’t get my hands to hold still. Then I remember the article, and thought how I just had to wait until a small town for a red light, or even a pit stop to regain the steadiness in my hands. I chose for this one small painting to paint with my hands shaking.

Spirit of Youth

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“April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. (Sonnet XCVIII)”
― William Shakespeare

8″x6″ oil on single oil primed Belgium linen. I bought a multipack of panels trying to decide which surface I like the best. The single primed linen really grabs the paint, it takes more paint to fill the tooth, which was perfect for this wet rainy painting.

Puddle Dancing

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A rainy, dark scene seems appropriate for today, one with a bit of hope (only because I know how the story ends). So I painted a puddle dancer, a barefoot rain walker. I love the way the colors blended with my Portland grey underpainting. I also love the way this painting looks wet.