Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Oil on canvas, 10x10
I walked into the yard this morning from my studio and saw again - as I do nearly every day - why we live here.
The farmer behind us had gone through his field a couple days ago and cut his corn - not to the ground, but to about waist-height. This morning, the stalks are a beautiful golden color, rich and dry and shorn. In the distance, the line of trees marks the edge of the field. Gray clouds rise above the horizon, and they are shot with light on a diagonal line stretching skyward.
Instead of going in to take the dogs out, I set up my easel and paint, quickly, furiously, trying to catch the sense of raw, beautiful morning.
This painting was inspired by the day and my sense of seeing this land again - and also by the work of Sandra Pratt, an artist my brother introduced to me. She paints with a knife and a brush, and pulls into the ground and the foreground the juddering swift strokes that I often have in the sky.
The Neptune Festival in Virginia Beach was an OK show for me. It wasn't great, and it wasn't awful. I met tons of very, very nice people, and got a lot of positive feedback, and I made a few hundred dollars over my costs, which is better than nothing, but not outstanding.
The show might hold some more promise for me, though, as many people who came into my tent were very interested in the big sunflower painting on the back wall. The piece sold on Thursday night, after I'd hung it, and I left it up and talked to interested parties about similar custom pieces for their homes. My challenge now is to successfully invite those people to order pieces from me. I am hopeful!
October 02, 2012
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