Recently, we stood outside, gazing up at the night sky, feeling the cold wind, sniffing the smells of the prairie as smoke wafted from the fire pit. We saw the brightest stars, the planet alignment, the bright lights of the city on the horizon. And we worshipped in our souls. We cried from weary places. We looked up and remembered. We bowed with humble hearts. A divine night.
O Holy Night – (a song by Placide Cappeau and Adolphe Adam)
O Holy night! The stars are brightly shining It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining ‘Til He appears and the soul felt its worth A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn Fall on your knees; O hear the Angel voices! O night divine, O night when Christ was born O night, O Holy night, O night divine!
Winter blows in and the earth is enshrouded with a cloak of clouds, dropping temperatures to freezing points that hinder or stop all growth below. Colors cool, greens fade to pale, and hay grass gives in to the wind and falls softly in submission to the season.
The mighty winds are the only ones moving, as they howl and billow over the earth. Plants retreat into dormancy, creatures burrow down to hide from the cold.
And all the while, we watch and listen and wait and hope that life will be restored in the promise of spring.
Caught By Surprise 16×20 oil on gallery wrapped canvas $225
We hunt with cameras – my husband and I. (Not that we are against guns, or have not had venison in the freezer many times.) But, when we walk together, we hunt with cameras. One such adventure is the Story Behind the Painting, Caught By Surprise!
For several days we had spotted ducks in our pond, only to see them fly away before we got very close. Steve devised a plan to sneak up on them. The next morning, we left the path and swung wide to walk through high grass to the back side of the dam. Quietly making our way up the grassy hill to come out behind mesquite for camouflage, we peeked out to see, not 10 or 20, but 75 to 100 assorted types of ducks enjoying our pond! As the clicks of our cameras alerted them, they began leaving in groups, rising up over us in a swish of wind, wings and whistling sounds. It was a magical moment!
I watched them take flight. It seemed like chaos with their first lift-off, but they quickly retreated into line formations and soared in sync to the next body of water. Some small groups lingered a little longer in our waterhole, but then left together, following the path of the others. And then the pond was empty. The water stilled. The sky was open. And the moment was gone.
Photographs and Paintings — our way to hold on to the magical moment, just a little while longer!
I feel very small at times, living on this Texas Prairie. The skies, the clouds, the distant views, the ever-changing wind and even the tall windows in my home, take my line of vision upwards. In this world of big open space, I often feel small.
As I painted this skyscape, I was reminded of words from Isaiah 55:8 (I looked it up.) Basically, God tells us that his ways and thoughts are higher than ours, just like the heavens are higher than the earth. Whether or not it is figurative language, I think he means that there is no way I’m ever going to understand all His ways. And somehow that is comforting. It was always comforting in childhood to know that my parents knew things I didn’t, that they had my best interest in mind, that I didn’t have to worry about it. It’s kinda like that with God. His ways and thoughts are so beyond my finite mind.
When I think of God’s ways and thoughts compared to mine, again, I feel small. And I’m reminded that it’s not about me. But that the Heavenly Father, who loves me, has it under control.
“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. ” Psalm 19:1
Meadow or Marsh 16×20 oil on gallery wrapped canvas
This was painted from my photo of a meadow on our property. The last of the Snow on the Prairie wildflowers were still blooming. It’s a scene I see when I walk our trail through hay grass and assorted wild plants.
After I painted it, I showed it to my son who questioned, “Is it a meadow or a marsh?” He knows that I spent many previous years painting the marshes of Coastal Georgia. So, maybe it is. Maybe it has some “marsh influence.” Maybe it can be a meadow or a marsh…whichever the viewer’s experience brings to it.
If not, let me catch you up quickly. I entered the 30 Day Strada Easel Challenge to paint or draw each day from life and post daily. I chose to begin the month of September only using black and white. With my Copic Sketch Markers, I used only 3 values in greyscale to sketch. Some days I used pencil. I even tried black and white paint! (see September news) But, by Day 15, I was really missing color in my paintings! That’s when I broke out the red and repainted the hummingbird study (it sold) and more paintings with color followed after that!
What did I learn from this Challenge? 1. Painting is my job. I will show up every day for work. 2. Drawing in grayscale is basic to seeing the darkness or lightness of a color in life. Thumbnail sketches before painting are key! 3. Drawing from life helps me work faster because the conditions change so quickly! 4. Weather influences my art. 5. There are many artists posting on Instagram. Group challenges like this give opportunities to meet wonderful comrades in painting!
Time to pack these daily artworks, 11×14 and smaller, away! If you see one that you like, message me — I will send you a better uncropped photo of the painting so you can see it better, and make you a deal! … I am ready to move on to some BIG Canvases!
After three days, the rain stopped and the Texas Heat was subdued.
My September Challenge with Strada Easel (see Instagram account) has been to focus on the Element of Value. I am using only black and white, as I look for the range of dark to light values in whatever I draw or paint. I am keeping it simple by not adding any color. So today, I walked out into the pasture, surrounded by Snow on the Prairie wildflowers, and looked for a spot to sketch.
I was sure missing those colorful oil paints! And without toned paper, I could not capture the white flowers.
So, I went back to the studio to gather plein air gear. I dumped out all the colors of paint, and packed black, white and Gamblin’s Portland Grey. (That sure makes a lighter backpack!)
As I settled back in my spot, and studied the soft creamy grays of the overcast day, I realized I had failed to slip my brush case into the backpack! Not wanting to waste time trudging back to the studio ( in my mud boots– remember it has been raining for three days), I scrounged through my backpack and found a tiny scriptwriter brush (dried stiff), a palette knife (hallelujah), and paper towels that can be used to spread paint in a pinch!
I accepted the challenge to move ahead and begin painting. It was a challenge to grow, to work in not so perfect circumstances, to use what I had and make it work, to exist without colorful sprinkles, but to see beauty in the basics.
And as I paint, analogies usually are formed — It was much like the challenge we face in our lives today! And more specifically, like the challenges our teachers (near and dear to my heart) are facing these days! It’s the challenge to exist without colorful sprinkles on top, but to see beauty in the basics.
I’m looking forward to using color in my paintings again. I’m hoping for the day when teachers can use a full spectrum of teaching resources again. Until then, we will seize the day, make do with what we have, and live on!
On a windy day in central Texas, one will notice the fluidity of clouds, the constant change in the sky, the light and dark, the subtle shifts of color and shape, the strong gusts, the temperature rising, and the temperature drop, which happens when the sun goes down. When I go outside, I never know what kinds of clouds will appear that day. It’s entertaining, brings beauty, but can be frightening when the winds come on us too strong!
I’ve been thinking about how I rather like the constant state of the hay bales. The weighty strength of just sitting there in a tidy package, unbothered, immoveable, seemingly content. They shine like gold in the heat of sun. They have promise of being useful one day.
I have begun to compare myself to these bales, when I ponder the state of flux in my world in 2020. When I look at news, scroll Facebook, and listen to conversations around me, I can get swept up in a gust or two, I can jump on a bandwagon and spin around, or I can change from light to dark in a matter of minutes, just like clouds. But thinking about these hay bales… I find more peace in just hiding under them, just staying grounded in who I am and the God in whom I trust. He is grander than hay bales or clouds of confusion.
I pray the winds of change, discord, frustration, and confusion will become calm when the temperature drops. I have never seen this country so divided and volatile, so explosive and angry, so hurtful and selfish. I am ready for the winds to blow over, in God’s timing and God’s ultimate will. Until then, I will hide under these mighty hay bales and look for beauty.
Three new paintings – 20×20 oil – inspired by the land on which we live.
The black and white cow, Muncher, entertains us when she comes by to be hand fed in the evenings. (If you know me very well, you know that it is not my hand that feeds her!) Nevertheless, I enjoy her personality, complete with her fancy earrings!
Bovine Beauty or Do These Earrings Make Me Look Fat? SOLD
The white cow and her baby have been moved to another pasture. But we have watched the calf grow from hours after she was born, as we watched the mother care for and protect her offspring.
Maternal Protection
And the third piece, the landscape, was painted with the same palette of colors. In my mind, it was the first painting, as the pink sky on that Pink Morning is what inspired all three in this series. Pink color to tie the three together – the land and the cows – my surroundings. (And they could be your surroundings, if you want to hang them on your wall, as a group or not.)
