Well.  Lots has transpired since I last posted.  My mother died and thus endeth my monthly trips to California to look after her.  She was 93 and of course I knew it would come...but geez you are never really ready.  I miss her.  We were close and she was exuberant, curious, optimistic, and in a constant quest for knowledge til the end. 

So now, back to work.  The gallery where the show will be was very kind in moving the date to February so I have time to finish.  It's good to be back in the paint.  The work has become looser and freer.  Nothing wrong with that.  More relaxed maybe.  But there is lots to do.  I'm aiming for 12 large pieces, 12 half size, and 12 plus little ones.  All arched, church like, in an homage to nature and inspired by the droughts, floods, and storms that have caught our attention.  Finally.

Peace.

We have been lucky with rain this summer....the trees live! 
No taking it for granted though.  Only have to look northward to see drought and southeastward to see flood.  And still we drive big cars and waste everything.

However.  I'm back to speak to the project I'm wallowing in.  (In which I'm wallowing).  I am now well on with my trees/nature on arched window like wood.  There will be twelve large ones at the end....for me recalling the books of hours that I have seen reproduced in books on medieval art.  There is always that startling blue and some sort of reference to the common thread of man and nature.  There will also be six of a half size, and another six or more of small ones maybe devoted to insects.  I'm excited about this....I love to work in a theme, a thread and follow it along.

Hot in the studio of course.  Mostly can only work in the mornings.  And then there are still the monthly trips to Calif to see after my mom.   But it's like concentrated orange juice.  It works.

Peace.

Houston has returned to a rainful summer.  No complaints here.

Paintings of trees, nature, nurture continue to be my focus for now although I guess I finally really see how out of the loop I am, feeling more and more like an outsider artist, because of what I paint and how I do it.  I've been painting since 1964, and due to life's ups and downs never quite finished my art education.  Although for two decades I taught it.  Life is funny.

  I'm working on a solo show for January, 2013....yet I sometimes dream about having a yard sale with the work that is still hanging around in the studio and the gallery.  I think maybe many people feel this way at some point.  Just a little tired, maybe.  Still flying to California once a month to look after my mom....guess I feel a little disjointed.  Ah, crap.  Just venting.  Summer blahs.

Peace.

Tree hugger me

Ah.  After turning my back momentarily on still life and anonymous people, I find I am embracing trees.  Tree hugger me.  But there is a reason.  We went thorough such a drought from hell last year, that Houston lost tens of thousands of trees.  Pine, magnolia, oak, all kinds.  The Lost Pines of Bastrop burned black and seared until there was nothing left.  And like a lot of people who count on nature to lift their spirits in these difficult times, I found myself in something of a deep blue funk.  Trees are being replanted and for that we are supportive and grateful.  But, it will be a generation before our parks are restored to what they were.  There are, to be sure, lots and lots of trees in this very green town, but now there are also many empty places in between. And the rain has come back.
So.  Painting trees, fish, insects and birds is restoring me.  Looking for serenity I guess.  And it's working.

Peace. 

concessions to getting older

Don't know what happened to winter here in the bottom of Texas....we didn't get the freezing temps to kill off the mosquitoes....oh well, the upside is that the plants are happy.  And I'm still in the studio painting without gloves.

I guess I'm back to painting a few people after thinking I was back in love with still life.  Never say never. There is still much to be resolved in the switch from oil to acrylic.  Still not my favorite medium, still trying to make friends with it, still struggling.  I am finding that the wetter and faster I paint the happier I am.  What I really miss is the Liquin I used to use with oil.  What a lovely slider that stuff was, if only it didn't make me sick.  Just a wee bit of petroleum gunk in it.  Guess that's really not a good thing to breathe.

Getting older is finally interrupting my consistent bravado and confidence.  It truly is getting harder to stretch good size canvases.  Not that I'm giving up, just swearing more and running achy fingers under the warm tap when I come inside.  AND....here's the big one:  I just got a three wheel bike.  OK, actually it is a kind of tricycle, but it has a big basket in the back and I can carry stuff.  I had to give up my regular bike when I had a knee replacement....and then lost all confidence in balance.  So, what the hell, I'm now going to be that old lady zipping around on the red three wheeler.

Peace.

still life out of style

Whatever the crazy world has been up to, I've been in the studio making still life paintings like they never went out of style.  And they did.  But what the hell.  For me it's like knitting, not that I do that, not that there's anything wrong with that, but working on still life makes me ok with the world while I'm doing it.
Like there is only so much you can stand of politics, bad news, and crumby weather.  Still lives make me ok.  Better than booze or pills, I say.  I mean, the props just sit there and give stability to the situation.  Unless they are Clementine oranges, in which case I'm trying to paint them fast before they change their form and start to shrivel.  At least I'm not painting sides of beef like Soutine did.

Peace.

studio copper pot

little satisfactions

The days grow longer already.  Perhaps more noticeable in the places I inhabit....Texas and California.  It's nice not to be driving in the dark at 5pm.  Little satisfactions.  The structure of bare trees made visible by the season; the low slant of afternoon light like a spotlight on humble things giving them life; people taking turns at a non working signal;  smiles from strangers; falling asleep with a book on my lap.

I promise I'm not about to break out into song....but it's good to not be rushing around so much and take in the view, the moment, the breath ....right now.

Peace.

soothing still life

New Starts.  Painted over a partly done canvas and did a large still life.....something I could control, to bring in the new year.  Combining the hills of California and some objects in the studio.  Objects I've painted for many years.  Old friends.  Objects standing in for people.  An avoidance of emotion.  A way to deal with the death of a friend, the end of a year, the prospect of more drought, the calendar turning pages faster than I can count.

Painting soothes the soul, erases the worry, allows my mind to wander in small jerks forward and backward without edit.

More still life for a while I think.

Peace.











 

time

December.  Houston.  Cool, cold even.  The difficult summer forgotten.  We seem to dwell only in the present where we are ok, or not ok.  I find myself thinking forward when in uncomfortable moments: "in one hour, I will be home (or through, or out of the airplane, or done with the dentist, or off the freeway) and 'this' will be over".  I helps. 
I am now of the age where in my mind I can travel long distances through time.  Can even get a bit lost there in the loops and small passages.  Some to savor, some to spit out, and some....to put in trunk, in the basement and slam the lid shut.
But, it seems, we must live in the present moment and make it count by being aware of it.  Tick tick.  It slips away.


Peace.

heaps of good food

I am here in Palo Alto, home of  Stanford who just ended their 11 game winning streak to Oregon...not that I usually know anything about football, but it was hard to ignore all the RV's and tail gating cars and trucks with people clad in either red and white or green and white.

No, I am attending my mother's Endgame...although she's no where near that, really.   I can no longer take her out to lunch or on long drives as there is too much discomfort for her in the car.  So I now bring her tasty morsels  to alleviate the boredom of bland assisted living food.  Heaped on her plate are:
figs; kiwi berries; blueberries; strawberries; sliced kiwi; sliced apple; a lady apple; stone wheat crackers; cheese polenta (if it's not turkey or chicken salad); fig cookies; and to drink, S. Pellegrino.  She loves it...the taste, and the vision of all that color.

And the color here in Palo Alto is weeks ahead of  Houston....so the trees are glorious.  And although it is quite nice here and my mother is doing well, I can't wait to get home again to He Who Snores, but I love him anyway.


Peace.

standing proud

My, my, my.  What a lot of time we have to mull over what we post in haste.  I'm so over my out burst about the bumpy ride through my household relationship with the person who snores.  It was only a day or so before said fine person was willing and able to perform household duties and heroics.  He is, in fact, redeemed.

I don't regret my fuming, as it led to greater things.  We need to protest on occasion.  Be it on Wall Street, in Oakland, or at the local tax board.  We need to have our say and not get run over by bigger folks.   I think of the original tea party, the one that actually threw tea over the edge of the boat, and I think of the Vietnam war, and perhaps most poignantly, the protests for Civil Rights.  People, regular people, stood up and were counted, and change was made to happen.

Peace out, y'all.

snoring irritating men

This has nothing to do with painting, except that it has been one of my subjects for the last 35 years. 

The painful subject is relationships.  Two adults living together and creeping up on each other's last nerve. I mean, come on, I almost never complain here.  But:

The toilet runs and has to be babied in order to work.

The sidewalk and walkway to the house have been uprooted by the oak tree and will cause someone to sue us for millions of dollars when they trip and die!

The house has not been painted for decades and the roof is surely due to fall in.

And the other person in this house SNORES LIKE A FREIGHT TRAIN.

I have painted some funny, some poignant, some soulful, some outrageous, some angry relationship paintings for years and years.  Now you know it's based in life.  Arggh.  And most of us live it.

Oh, yeah,  and Peace.

the quiet place

A little cooler now in Texas.  Had a chance to see some of the scorched land left by the wildfires here lately.  But ....although many sad and horrific things are on my television, alerts on facebook, in the newspaper, I choose not to paint from there right now.  I am painting from an interior place and hope that it communicates the quiet sadness, the quiet optimism, the joy of books and memories and those things that are from the personal two square feet that I inhabit.

Peace.

New wallpaper paintings and no damn Ipad.

What a difficult summer!  No rain here, too much there.  And there. Well, the calendar says it's pretty much over, reality says it isn't. 

But onward.  I now use the IPad for reading books and playing games.  Doing art on it turned out to be not my cuppa.  Too complicated.  I'm a simple soul and real paint on real surfaces works best for me. But now I have a fun companion to take on the plane on my monthly trips. 

The painting is going well in my weeks in between trips to California.  I removed some of the wallpaper from my mother in law's house to use as collage.  I've done this sort of thing before but not with 60 yr old wall paper that is crumbly and fragile.  I was so excited I stretched up five or six good size painting and slapped on the wallpaper willynilly.  Then with each piece I have to figure out how to make it work..  Fun. Ignorance sometimes makes the path easier.  Except in the case of the IPad.


Peace.

learning to speak Ipad

Well, I went and did the unthinkable.  I bought an Ipad with the intent of joining the 21st century.  I get along great with my simple cell phone and my computer, but doing art work on the Ipad is going to take training wheels and a good deal of time.  As an artist, like many artists, especially old ones like me, tech stuff, I find VERY difficult.  Part of the problem, the biggest part, is that I'd rather not read instructions. I mean I don't even know how to work the coffee maker, as I usually only have coffee when someone is in town...then they have to make it.  The other part of the problem is that nothing is simple anymore.  Like the tv.  No more easy off and on.  No knobs.  Yeah, yeah, I know there haven't been knobs since like 1975, but even the remotes were simpler then. 

So, I'm learning....but at dowager snail speed.  Meantime, I'm working on some good sized paintings that incorporate my mother in law's wall paper.  Collage and paint.  That I understand.

Peace.

to ipad or not.

It finally rained here.  Grateful us.  Only downside is the mosquitoes are back.  And I'm back working in the studio on drought banishing paintings.  Can't help but be influenced by what is happening around me. I'm considering buying an ipad......it looks like fun and maybe could do sketches when I'm off to Calif every month.  But, it means getting my brain cells around more technology...can I get them out of retirement and into the moment?  It remains to be seen.  But I could also play movies on the plane and read a book that doesn't weigh 3 lbs.  Surely this is a good move.  Hummm, thinking about it....almost ready to do it. 

Peace.

the morning after

It was one of those nights when the air conditioner was broken in the record heat wave in June.  When reading, nor listening to my MP3 nor watching tv would coerce me into sleep.  Sleeping felt like what I must do,  knowing the morning would bring the monthly trip to California.  But the mind is a child when there is a must do required.   Waking after pieces of sleep felt like I was all apart.  My molecules were spinning off in different directions and causing denial and confusion amongst the body parts.  Even the stomach had something to say.  The kindest remedy was to sit in the reading chair downstairs, doing nothing, musing delicately so as not to disturb the balance of molecules attempting to realign, and watching the sun begin to dance across the wood and textiles in the room as a new day began.

And now, contemplating toothpaste and shower, I know that my morning ahead,  in the sky, watching the earth roll by, I will sleep on the plane and all will be well.

Peace.

hot hot hot

Needless to say, it's hot.  We are in a record breaking drought in a place that is normally sub-tropical.  Scary thoughts seep into one's mind when thinking of tornadoes, floods, droughts and fire....all happening at the same time.
While doing the good and hopeful things like not running the water while doing the brushing of the teeth, and taking canvas bags to the grocery store and keeping the A/C as high as possible, I am making every attempt to remain optimistic and buoyant.  Getting to be an old fart has the benefit of having lived through a lot of the debris of life and knowing that we'll get through it.

Meanwhile, painting, reading, watching and listening and hoping for the best.

Peace.  And maybe a little rain?

there is no place like home

Houston is heating up for the summer.  It happens fast, like someone opening the glory hole at a glass blower's.  One day it's a balmy 72 degrees and the next:  95 and sucking the air out of you.  Then we all say: Why do we live here???  I think the answer is habit.  We all visit places where the weather is fine, but then we come home and rationalize.  I count it on my fingers:

October through May....IF we are lucky....that is eight months of good weather, right? No snow, no ice.  Well once in a while.  And if I'm honest it's usually November through the first half of May for good weather.  And once in a while, Christmas is scorching.  And no place is perfect.  We do have the occasional hurricane. 

But we stay and we come back because of family and friends and habit.  This is where we dug in and got comfortable.  There is no place like home.  There is no place like home.  There is no place like home.

Peace and coolness.