On the Easel
Swimmers, Lambs, Farmboys, Lupines, Sunflowers
No end to the variety on the easel this month. Audiobooks are my companions, mostly: I just finished the latest Richard Osman, and now I’m beginning This is Happiness by Niall Williams. The sun shines a little. Snow flew yesterday. The dark nights begin at 4:45. Cue the twinkle lights, please.
My studio is the former taproom in an 1830s brick house in rural Vermont.
But my favorite studio is under the sky where I get started on most of my paintings. The French call this en plein air, meaning in the open air. My brother gave me an old easel and it accompanies me around the back roads and hillsides near my home. In 2022 I started painting from the bed of our old pickup truck (I saw the Irish artist Elizabeth Cope doing this on the pages of Faire magazine and had to try it). I spend the winter months finishing my summer paintings, and creating dreamscapes that are composites of the places I’ve been fortunate to go. I work in slow-dry acrylics by Golden Paints and use wide hardware store brushes and Rosemary artist brushes. Just love them!
Paint, snap, write,
Let’s work together!
Do you want to learn to paint, draw or sew?
Would you like to commission a painting?
Can I paint some patterns or birds on your walls, or restore damaged wallpaper (yes, I do this).
Do you need branding or photography for your business?
These in-person classes and workshops will be held in Pomfret, Vermont, at Artistree Community Art Center.
From my journal
Everywhere I dig—and I am digging at every chance I get these days—I am finding something buried. And that could be a metaphor for all of us in these days of stay at home orders and isolation. What's deep inside is sustaining each of us, I'd wager. If we...
This morning there was a shift in the light in the sky. The weekend was bitterly cold with that pink or pale icy blue tinge in the ether. Today there was a warm hint of yellow in the sky blue and the hills glowed differently. The 28 degree F air felt balmy...
Remember that night back in September? But as the moon rose, like a lantern above the farthest hill,we got goose bumps and huddled under the blanket, which was damp. The fiddles played. And guitars and cello. Voices rose up in the night.Clothing caught the...
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I send emails when the stars align (every so often).