What's this? A human?

Rick

Oil on canvas, 8x10

For reasons I do not understand, painting humans terrifies me. Dogs, fine. Cats, fine. Landscapes, fine.

Move toward buildings, and I start to get a little antsy; humans? Yikes! The one I've done that I like is from the back, "Fat Guy at the Diner," and I do love that one.

But there's a guy named Rick who has the most amazing face, and one day, I got the courage up to ask him if I could photograph him, in hopes of trying a painting.

So here it is. And actually, it kind of looks like him, and I kind of like it. It might take me another year to try another human, but you have to start somewhere.

Power Trio

Power Trio

oil on canvas, 36x48

sold

The other day, about this same time, the moon came up early and full and the color of peach ice cream. The sky was a tender blue-pink that it only seems to reach when there is snow on the ground - and the rising of that moon and the turning of the seasons felt like the rising of my heart, my hand just grasping the knob that will turn for me and and open the door to something new, something with promise - and I said a prayer of thanks and hope - and took a picture, too, just to remind myself.

Here's the same painting, in an early stage. I actually love it like this, and was tempted to leave it. What do you think?

Majesty

Majesty

Oil on canvas, 20x20

Please email me for price and shipping/delivery informatio

It wasn't until I traveled to the west that I understood how small we humans are. 

Here on the East Coast, we have built buildings and cities and skyscrapers. We have planted trees. We have surrounded ourselves with structures that, compared to our own bodies, are enormous. 

And these are what we see. It's with these that we measure ourselves and our East Coast lives.

I remember standing in the sagebrush desert of Idaho, and sensing for the very first time in my life, the enormity of the sky and the earth, the incomprehensible distance between them and the minute speck of it that I took up.

In an instant, my ratios changed. I was not 2/3 the height of one story, which was, at most, 1/100th the height of the entire building - I was 1/millionth the size of what I was seeing, 1/billionth. I was nothing.

But ah, we easterners, we city dwellers, we foolish souls who measure ourselves against our own constructions! How we are deceived.

I love the feeling of being the size of a mote of dust. I love the universe of sky stretching away overhead to some place I can only imagine, and the run of earth beneath my feet connecting me to the other side of the country, the other side of the world. I love feeling that feeling, and reaching for it in my paintings.

For anyone in (or willing to visit) the area of southeastern Conn., I have another show coming up! This one will run for the month of March, at the Lighthouse Gallery on Long Hill Road in Groton. I will post a flyer here in the next day or so - but save March 4th, from 5-7 p.m., for the opening reception. 

There are a whole bunch of really great things about showing at Lighthouse. Chris Rose is the first of them. The lovely space is the second.


But the best, I think, is that commissions from anything the artists sell go to the Lighthouse Voc-Ed program, which owns the gallery and helps kids with developmental difficulties. 

Lulu

Lulu

Oil on canvas, 12x12

For the Art for Shelter Animals Project

Some ups, some downs these recent days.

Clearly, one of the ups is that I've had some time to paint!  And really, never has painting felt so delicious, so luscious, so rich. How incredibly lucky I was to have had that year and a half just painting. I long for the day when that is my life again.
 
One of the downs is that this lovely dog, Lulu, has just had her ninth or 10th litter. This one was 10 pups; one was stillborn. The others are happy and lively and living in the Montville shelter. To see a video of the puppies, click here.

Lulu needs a home; right now, one of her mammary glands has become infected, and she has had a mastectomy. She is going to be OK, but this will make it even harder for her to be adopted. So that's a down. The other is that a neighboring paper got the story before I did!

Oh, well.

Another of the ups? The 100th follower has joined The Accidental Artist. Yay!

Thank you, all of you, for reading my blog. I appreciate each and every one of you. Your support and enthusiasm has carried me many days, and your kind words have enriched my life.

Black Dirt - and 'Rough at Hand'

Black Dirt

Oil on canvas, 10x20

Please contact me for price and shipping/delivery information 

Above, a happy corner of the Wallkill River School, with paintings from "Rough at Hand," my show that is there through February. You can see "Black Dirt" on the left-hand wall.

Early buyers bought three of the four small paintings I had hanging on the left-hand wall. Luckily, I had more paintings with me than I could easily hang, so three new ones took the place of the three that sold. There are joys great and small to productivity, and this is one of them! 

Top, "Christmas Eve." Bottom, "Tuscany."

My friend Michael Piotrowski, a wonderful painter, who will be showing at the gallery in April.

From left, Gittel Evangelist, me, Gene Bove (fabulous artist, showing in March) and Ellen Levine. Gittel and Ellen, bless them, braved the awful weather to come to the opening reception.

From left, Michael Piotrowski, Gene Bove, Ellen Levine and Gittel Evangelist. Jane and John Pette, readers of this blog, also braved the weather. The Pettes and I were strangers before the show opened, and friends by the time they left.
I was sad for a while that so few people came, but the weather was truly horrible, and I'd have been bereft if someone had gotten hurt, coming to my reception. The slight attendance (the gang pictured here, and the Pettes) meant I did have time to talk with everyone who attended - a rarity at openings, usually! 

Here's what you see when you enter the gallery showing my work in "Rough at Hand." On the mantle is "Scottish Highlanders," 48x60. Bottom is "The Watcher," which is 30x40, I believe.
You can just see the framed photo of my mother on the mantle. Whenever possible, I bring her photo to the shows and leave her to watch over things while I am gone. 

Upper, facing, is "Rusty Refrigerator." Lower, "Into the Sunset." 

"On the Way to Warwick." 

Sonoita Hills, old and new

 The original Sonoita Hills painting

The new Sonoita Hills painting

oil on canvas, 10x30

Please email me for price and shipping/delivery info. 

The painting is currently on display in "Rough at Hand" at the Wallkill River School gallery

This is another of the paintings that I repainted with the palette knife. I used the original painting - which I loved - as a guide for a new approach, a thicker impasto, with more color and more light and more surface. 

I'm really happy with this one! It is like seeing an old friend in new clothes. It makes you re-examine the bones and see the spirit and the beauty again. 

Max

Max

Oil on canvas, 12x12

Commission

One of the many things falling between the cracks here with work and painting is marketing! Eek!

"Rough at Hand," my show at the Wallkill River School Gallery, is OPEN! It is up for the month of February, and there is a reception on Saturday, from 5-7 p.m.

I had a once-in-a lifetime experience as I hung the show last Saturday. I'd just gotten it all up, and made a price list. I was sitting down contemplating, when in walked two people who had bought paintings from me last year. They love my work - and between them, Saturday, they bought five paintings. When they asked if they could take them, I said sure!

I had extras with me, and so I rehung, repriced - and thanked my lucky stars not only for the money that those two were willing to part with, but also, and even more, for the fact that they loved my work. Honestly, there is something so moving about that, so sustaining, so life-affirming, that it makes my heart beat fast now, just thinking about it.

Please come to the opening! I am just as excited as I could be about my new work, and it is more precious than ever to me, as my time to paint is so scarce these days.

The Wallkill River School Gallery is at 232 Ward St. (Route 17K) in Montgomery, NY. The website is wallkillriverschool.com.

For those of you in Connecticut and Rhode Island, I will be having a show in March at the Lighthouse Gallery in Groton, with the amazing Laura Maiolo. More on that as it draws closer.

For those of you in NY, see you Saturday!