Sunrise, Sunset

Swiftly Fly the Years
Oil on canvas panel

sold

Today, we give thanks, for our families, for the harvest, for the past that brought us to this doorway to tomorrow.

Today, I give thanks for the parents who brought me into this world, and raised me to believe in the good in people, and the best in myself.

I give thanks for a mother who adored me without question or demand, and for a father and stepmother who still welcome me into their lives, with smiles and hugs and decades of loving me.

I give thanks for a brother and a sister who share the joys and the sorrows of this adventure, and who share their lives and their children with me.

I give thanks for a husband who cherishes me, and is willing to live this quiet, animal-filled life with me.

I give thanks for the friends who have walked with me all along the way, and shared their secrets and their strengths, their ideas and their hopes, their fears and their beliefs, and have helped form my own.

I give thanks for the fog and the snow, the sunshine and the wind, the forces of nature that color and spin and turn through this world of God-given beauty.

I give thanks for the eyes that let me see, the hands that let me paint, the heart that gives me the courage to try.

I give thanks for all of you, who have told me that you love my paintings, who have bought them, who have believed in me and helped me believe in myself.

Karen and Henry

Brown Field
Oil on canvas, 11x14

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me

if you are interested in buying this painting

When I'm painting and it's going well, my mind goes blank. Songs run through it, phrases, and sometimes, near the end of a painting, phrases and words begin to form a title. Otherwise, I paint in a glory of unconscious action. I see, I move, I swirl colors, I put brush or knife to canvas, and when I look up, two hours have passed, and the temperature has changed, and the light has drained from the day.

I love this, this feeling of being and nothingness, as though my body, my brain, my hands were nothing but extensions of art, or of paint, or of God, or the song of the universe. I love that, for a while, I am less than corporeal, at least in my soul. And the best paintings come then.

As I pulled up to the surface near the end of this painting, I began thinking of a title. "Rhapsody in Brown" seemed pretentious. (Really?) "Meet the Browns," amused me, because of a silly TV show which I have never seen, though I have seen the commercials.

Then I thought of naming this painting "Karen & Henry," after the Browns, longtime friends of my parents and two of my favorite people of all time. She is six feet tall and always struck me as glamorous. He is shorter, with Mr. Spock-like ears and one of the driest senses of humor I've ever encountered.

It made me happy to think of them. I still might name this painting after them, but for the time being, it will be "Brown Field."

Back in the Field

Back in the Field
Oil on canvas, 16x20

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me

if you are interested in buying this painting

The back field gets more interesting, more lovely, day by day. I know that one of these mornings, I'll get up and go out and frost will have taken my colors, ripped away my textures, but until then, it's a wonderful scene to paint.

I write this from New York, where last night, I helped 300 others celebrate Shawn Dell Joyce, one of the founders of the Wallkill River School in Montgomery. The Orange County Citizens Foundation chose Shawn to receive the Seligman Award, for "outstanding contributions to arts and culture in the county." Shawn is my dear friend, so I have some prejudices, but truly, she deserves the honor, the accolade - and much, much more. I'm happy that I was able to be there to celebrate her.

"Here & There," my show with talented painter George Hayes, is up at the Wallkill River School Gallery, and it looks great. The reception is Saturday, from 5-7 p.m. If you're in the area, please stop by. It is Montgomery Day, too, so 211 is likely to be jammed or closed. The school is on Route 17K - take Exit 5 or 5A to get there and avoid the traffic problems in downtown Montgomery. Better yet, go to the celebration first and then come to the reception!

A Morning Song

Morning Song
Oil on canvas, 8x10

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me

if you are interested in buying this painting

Autumn's walked in, with crisp nights and soft, gray mornings, and soaking dew on the unmowed back field. I walk through hip-high grass, goldenrod fans, spikes of deep red blades, a fringe of feathery tan. The dogs romp and bounce and end up soaking wet, as we explore the field each morning. They see different smells, animals who've crossed before them, creatures burrowed beneath the earth. I see a changing, burnished landscape that beckons, new and different, every morning. I breathe the autumn air deep into my lungs and sing a song of praise and thanks.

Another Blue Morning

Another Blue Morning
Oil on stretched canvas, 16x20

Call me at 860-442-0246 or email me

if you are interested in buying this painting

In the monsoon that moved in yesterday afternoon, I headed to the basement with my palette knives. I took another stab at a painting I've already done with brushes, a painting of the back field here, early in the morning.

The light is just coming over the shortest trees, and the field right in front of me is blue with shadow and dew and a fringe of grasses, which I turned into more flowery vegetation. Everybody needs more flowers in their lives!

I'm beginning to get the idea of the palette knife. I'm wrapping my head and eyes around this new way of looking, and I'm enjoying it. The challenge for me is to make these pieces detailed enough to define themselves, while retaining the broad strokes and big shapes that so engage me.

My brother, Rand Cooper, (check out his delightful blog on the ups and downs of being an older parent) wrote to me about the difficulty of finding this balance and how he, as a writer, tends to pile detail upon detail until, sometimes, he passes the point of boldness and uses revision to take things out.

I can scrape things off, for sure, but one of my big goals in all of this is to see in those big, bold shapes. This is going to help me, no matter what kind of art I'm making.