The first morning in Big Bend National Park, we were out early to begin a hike on the Window Trail, in the Chisos Mountains. Steve and I took our time since we both had cameras and were amazed by everything we saw!
One thing I became fascinated with was the many variations in colors of cacti pads. Not just shades of green, but there were reds, oranges, purples, and pale peach. Some varieties were hot pink! Upon further investigation, I learned that cacti may change colors with seasons and can acclimate during drought conditions. It’s a matter of survival.
Five hours later, after Steve and I climbed the trail back up the mountain, (clocking five miles on our distance apps, and groaning with our aged limbs,) we knew the Prickly Pears, and other varieties, were not the only ones who were Survivors! Like the cactus, I think my face had turned a shade of red also, to acknowledge my survival on the Window Trail.
And sometimes, when a painting is finished, the feeling could be the same!
I had seen photos of the Santa Elena Canyon, as we prepared for a trip to Big Bend National Park. One of my artist friends commented that it would be a place I would want to paint. When I answered with, “But it’s been painted so many times,” she responded, “But, not by you!”
Thanks, Susan. I’m glad I didn’t brush it off as a common scene, too familiar to paint. Now, Santa Elena has been painted by me. And, painting was almost as fun as being there!
The place was magical, as every place we explored in Big Bend seemed to be! It was astounding to me that across the low, narrow Rio Grande River was Mexico. One majestic wall of rocks was on the Mexico side and another was on the United States side. The sun was behind the huge canyon walls, but peeking around the corner and touching the water, the bushes, the edges of rocks, as if to say goodbye at the end of the day.
We had opted out of the sunrise hike and instead, put Santa Elena on our agenda for that evening. I didn’t have time to paint on site, but took plenty of photos to capture the moment. And I could not wait to get back into my studio, weeks later, to put it on canvas!
You, Me – This Journey 24×26 oil on gallery wrapped canvas
I’m going to be honest. As I painted this, I was in a “had enough of winter weather” funk.
While I painted in my studio, I thought a lot about unknown elements of the future.
I’m not talking about the unknown elements of politics or religion – not today. But just the fact that this image (painted from this photo I took on the road where I live) grabbed my feelings about what each day brings. It’s a journey. And one of which I am getting closer and closer to the end! It is a strange feeling to be over halfway through the age journey.
Each day brings light to give hope of new experiences. Yet, carries with it shadows from the day before. The stark realities, like empty tree limbs, surround the journey; a mixture of cocoon-like existence and and the softness of gentle grace around it. The image pulls the eye in a narrowing focus to the bright light, and the vague knowledge of how many steps it takes before turning the corner at the end.
I painted this image over another landscape that didn’t make it to the “keep” pile. The revision was painted partially in the frustration of cleaning out the studio, but the act of painting gave way to peace. It’s an exciting feeling to wipe out the past and see what you can make new. However, I enjoyed letting some colors, shadows, brushstrokes peek through. The new portion of life always rests on the foundation of the past.
I think I shall call the painting – You, Me – This Journey. The You is Steve, my husband of 46 years. And the You is also God, who guides us, both, through all the shadows and turns and bright new beginnings on this earth. The Journey is Life – both here and hereafter.
Painting my way through winter weather and looking toward the promise of Spring!
I think most of you will agree that completing the looong month of January is a challenge to celebrate, in and of itself! The dreary, gray and cold days leave us almost longing for some Texas Heat!
This January, I accepted a challenge from myself — to paint with gouache (pronounced gwash) paint for 31 days (in an effort to get comfortable with a medium, new to me.) I painted over 31 studies from the windows of my home and from my photos.
Take a look at the work here:
I shared more about this challenge in my February newsletter from Melanie Stokes Art. If you are not subscribed to the newsletter list, I invite you to do that now.
You made it through January! Go outside and walk in the sunshine!
Maternal Instinct 20×20 oil Under Her Shadow 20×20 oil
The most fascinating part of observing cows, to me, is watching the interaction between a cow and calf. This “mother and child” relationship extends to the animal kingdom and is often a subject of my paintings, in wonder and appreciation.
“Red” (as we call her) gave birth to a little bull that we named Vally (who was born near Valentine’s Day). Vally grew up to be a stocky bull, and has moved on to other pastures. But I wonder if those early days of feeding him, bathing him, training him, and guiding him, stay in a cow’s mind. ? Maybe I should show her the paintings to help her with her memories.
These paintings are a celebration of Maternity. There may be days when your kids drive you crazy. There may be days, as they grow toward adulthood that you wish you could make them see your wisdom. There may be days when they move away and you wonder if they remember you. But the umbilical cord was connected in the beginning. And the miracle of Maternity remains. Celebrate it with grace and appreciation.
These two paintings are currently available for purchase at The Art Center Waco, in Waco, Texas. The PACT(Professional Artists of Central Texas) group show, “Beyond Blue,” will be there until February 22.
It is December 18. A week before Christmas. And I am painting geraniums. (Well, they are red and green.)
It has been awhile since I was able to get into my studio and paint! If I go more than a month without brushes in my hands, I get a little crazy. Yep. Anxiety, depression, lack of motivation…all seem to hover…as Snoopy in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown said, “I feel as if I must bite someone or I will go stark raving mad.” So, I’m sure you are as relieved as I am that I found time this week to paint geraniums to keep from going mad! Inhale paint, Exhale rest.
The painting on the left was a plein air piece, inspired by sitting on Susan Sterle’s front porch last Saturday. From the piece on the left, the other two were developed in my studio. I have frames for these 8×10’s and I think they would make a nice triptych. Or I might sell them individually. Which is your favorite?
Geranium 1Geranium 2Geranium 3
In this Christmas Season, may you find time to rest, take a walk, ponder and do the things that bring you Joy! Thanks be to God.
When I taught elementary students in Art Education, the principle of Visual Rhythm was easily grasped when I connected it with Music. After the students demonstrated a variety of rhythmic beats with their hands and defined musical rhythm, then I pointed to a painting and said, “In musical rhythm we hear repeated elements. In visual rhythm we SEE the repeated elements of Lines, Shapes, Colors…!
As I painted this scene from my yard in October, I thought about those days of encouraging children to repeat patterns in their painting to suggest movement and activity. And, I thought about my days with the struggle of trying to balance the Rhythm of Days with the Stability of Rest. It’s a problem with which I think many identify.
The hay bales are gathered in a row, waiting to be used during winter. The fall clouds are rushing across the sky, blowing in breezes. The migratory birds are flying in patterns overhead, trying to get to the next place before dark. The hay bales remain static; waiting, resting, and taking in the peace of the moment.
This 24×30 painting was a favorite at the recent Austin Avenue Art Fair in Waco, Texas. I enjoyed talking with people about why and what I paint. The painting is in a floater frame, available through me at $900, as of this writing!
During a recent trip, and stop in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, my husband and I came across this scene. The beach was almost vacant, but this one man stood among 15-20 seagulls, swarming around him as he tossed (what looked like Skinny Pop) popcorn to them.
You may remember that both of us enjoy observing birds, so we walked closer and took several photos. After returning home, (unpacking suitcases and washing clothes,) I finally got back to my studio and the image was still in my head, and in an iPhone reference photo.
The gulls soared and laughed that day, the clouds floated, the sand glowed, the man marveled, and we enjoyed watching The Bird Feeder!
This painting will be in the ART EDU Exhibit at Art Center Waco, August 8 – 31. I am honored to be included in a show of Art Educators in the area (though I am retired from teaching school.)
How Do We Measure Growth? 24×30 oil
When sunflowers grow, there is an irregular movement of lines and shapes to captivate the viewer. None of the stems grow in the same direction. The leaves curl and turn where they find space between the stems. The sunflower blooms may all turn toward the sun in the morning, but by evening they have turned in a variety of angles, some dropping off, and some new buds opening. If you tried to measure their growth, it would be difficult. They bloom at different times.
As Art Educators, how do we measure academic growth in our students? As a retired teacher, I have seen educators try to answer this question for years. And the teachers of The Arts usually struggle the most with finding methods to grade a creative, fluid subject in a concrete way.
Like the sunflowers, students in The Arts grow in irregular ways; some in one direction, some in the other. Some students rise to the top and shine above the masses, while some may become buried beneath layers of leaves and need more motivation to create.
How do we measure growth? I don’t think it can be thoroughly measured in numbers or letter grades. Growth in The Arts may be best measured in positive feelings, appreciative emotions, self-expression, self-actualization, and self-esteem. And maybe the one who measures it best is not the teacher, but the student!
I went outside, planning to paint the sunflowers. But the vastness of the land and sky was more of what I needed in my soul to process some BIG thoughts. Often, in my life, I need to be guided to look past the petty details and into the bigger picture.
Big shapes, and contrast in light and dark values, are what artists focus on to begin an impressionistic landscape.
And once the big things are in place, the details can be more easily added.
On a personal note, my younger brother has recently had a stroke which paralyzed the complete right side of his body. I am “his family” and I am four states away as he navigates being in hospital and physical therapy facilities, and is dealing with confirming a long term residency and “new normal.” I have been getting “caught up in the details,” spinning in anxiety, and exploring all the possibilities, as I try to be helpful by phone for lack of knowing what to do. After a good talk with him on the phone last night, this painting session came this morning, as I was reminded to keep my eyes on the “big picture,” the workings of all things together for good, and the grace of God in our lives.
I remind myself that it is easy for me to come to grips with his situation by painting therapeutically. Meanwhile, he is dealing with learning to use his non-dominant hand while navigating a wheelchair and finding some small joy each day in a new place. I empathize, but have no idea what he is really experiencing. My pain is nothing compared to his.
My hope and prayer is that a “freshly-cut path” will be cleared, and make it easier for him to navigate this complete upheaval of life. I pray that we can keep our eyes on the larger scope of things and not fret about the details.
As I paint, I first look past the small things and squint my eyes to see only the big shapes. Once the big shapes are blocked in, the details can be added with a grand pop of color in the end.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 1Corinthians 13:12
