oil painting – Page 2 – Melanie Stokes Art

February 11, 2023February 11, 2023

Is the Grass Really Greener?

melaniestokesart.com — Is The Grass Really Greener on the Other Side of the Fence?
16×20 oil

Usually, when I walk along the fence line of our property, the neighbor’s cows will turn their backs and move away from me. At first, one or two will leave, and then, the others will notice and begin a trot to move the entire group to safety in herd fashion.

On this day, they stayed, crowded together, and stared at the lady with the phone camera pointed toward them.

I liked the composition of their heads bunched together, the large interesting shape that they created standing in one dark mass, the “expressions” on their faces as they peered across the fence.

I imagined they were thinking (if cows think), “Is the grass really greener on the other side of the fence?” Is it?

Is that what we look like as we peer into the lives of others on social media? As we turn our backs to reality on our side of the fence? As we imagine “what ifs” and “wish I hads” until it becomes discontentment? Maybe so.

I snapped a few photos from which to paint, but it wasn’t long until the cows scattered and moved away. They bowed their heads toward the grass they already had and munched contently on the plenty.

September 22, 2022September 22, 2022

Separation Day

The Mama Cows gathered at the corral gate, wondering why the calves were being herded into the trailer, not knowing that the young ones were about to be taken away.

This was the scene I captured with my camera on the day that the year old calves were taken to another place. (We won’t speculate as to whether they were going to another grazing area or to market. The cows on our property belong to someone else, who leases the pasture from us.) We get attached to the cows, watch them from birth, give them names, feed them by hand (well, my husband does that.) And we are glad to have them on our acreage.

Being the novice rancher that I am, I did not expect what came next… As the truck and trailer rattled away with five calves, the cows began to bellow! And they bellowed and bellowed for about two days. They knew those babies were missing. They thought if they kept calling, they would come back. They knew they were supposed to be checking on them and keeping them safe.

As the wails went on, my “mama heart” hurt for their pain. Can cows have emotional pain? They wanted to care for their young, but the new distance was making that impossible. I thought about the times I’ve had physical and emotional distance from my own children. I thought about women who lose children through custody battles, illnesses, adoptions, and miscarriages. I thought about mothers and children and the heartaches that come with the joys. And then, I remembered… for goodness sake, we are talking about cows, here!

The stark contrast of the darks and lights drew me into the scene. The barricade of the gate seemed so final against their faces. The cows’ attention toward those leaving was a shared experience for the ones left behind. Their wails of mourning subsided after a few days. And, once again, the remaining cows became content to stroll from back to front pasture, searching for the perfect blade of grass.

July 17, 2022July 17, 2022

Vespers – an Evening Prayer

As I painted, I thought about the Spirit of God hovering over the earth, somewhat like this sun setting on a cool evening, and coming close to our hearts as we pray to him. The word, “vespers” came to mind, “associated with evening prayer.”

My Freshman Year at Shorter College (many moons ago), I often went to a Vespers service after eating supper in the dining hall with friends. I don’t remember hearing the word, “vespers” in my Baptist upbringing before then, but I soon found out it was an evening devotional service that had good sing-alongs with guitars. It was a ritual that delayed going back to the dorm room to study, and an opportunity to socialize with friends, so I was usually in. (And besides, there were usually a few cute guys who tagged along with us which always made it more interesting.)

Even though my main motivation for attending the service on this Baptist campus might not have been to commune with God, His Spirit usually made himself known. God seemed close to me in the outdoor settings, through the songs or devotional thoughts.

And for a brief moment at the setting of the sun, I still bow in gratitude for another day.

“From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” Psalm 113:3

June 24, 2022June 24, 2022

Cloud Cathedral

I spotted the sheep, scattered across barren land, as we travelled through west Texas. My husband and I had been discussing the need for rain in this area of the state. This image continued to develop in my mind as we rode along. And, after a few sketches to consider the composition, I had an idea for a new painting.

Tall wind-ravaged cedars, making me think of columns in a cathedral, pointed upward at the swirly thick clouds, as if begging them to drop rain. The sheep were grazing in different directions, seemingly oblivious of each other. And a Bible verse I learned long ago came to my mind. “All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Isaiah 53:6

(More contemporary language says it this way — “All of us were like sheep that had wandered off. We had each gone our own way, but the Lord God gave him the punishment we deserved. “) As a child, I learned that this spoke of Jehovah God sending Jesus to earth to rescue all of us wandering sheep from our sinful selves. And I accepted it and believed.

Sometimes sheep can be really stupid. They can wander with no direction. They only think of themselves. They get lost.

As I enter this Cloud Cathedral, I see the tall cedars pointing upward in reverence and the winds of hope swirling overhead with power, leading me to thoughts of the Lord God who sent Jesus. He brings redemption, forgiveness, and guidance in being more than sheep. And maybe, lacking a pipe organ in this cathedral, a shepherd boy’s flute plays a haunting, child-like melody, reminding me of Jesus when I wander from truth.

June 16, 2022August 21, 2023

Light at the Top

On a recent trip to Taos, New Mexico, we were glad to have friends with us who had been there before. One evening they sat in the back seat and directed us down a treacherous dirt and rock semblance of a road. We wound our way to the bottom of the gorge, across the John Dunn Bridge, so we could see this view. I was somewhat skeptical as the road had those places where you just know you are going to slide off into nothingness or into the blinding sunlight of the setting sun. So when we got to the bottom and saw the relaxing Rio Grand River, my tension melted into the coolness of the shaded rock walls. And, the sight that grabbed my attention the most was the light at the top of the gorge! This was a sunset glow just barely skimming the tops of the gorge walls, giving warm color to the rock formations, and reflecting in the cool water below. I took photos, knowing I would paint this scene later in my studio.

The light on any subject usually gets my attention. And light at the top directs me to look upward. The view was well worth the journey and ended on a happy note! And yes, the ride back up was not as challenging! Thank you, Shannon and Guy, for sharing a memorable view– a moment of ahhh!

April 30, 2022August 21, 2023

A Sacred Moment

I sat on the ground, maybe twenty feet away, and observed the spell-binding sacred moment of birth.

The labor, the exhaustion, the slow delivery process, the maternal instincts for cleanup and greeting her offspring, the bonding . . . all consumed my camera’s attention for over two hours. The other cows grazed silently nearby, as in a prayer vigil for the completion of the task.

This moment, this precious moment, was captured as the Mother Angus was successful in nudging the new life to stand on its own four feet. The cord was detached. Air was expanding the lungs of the little one. Thin legs were shaky, but strong. Initiation to the herd followed after this.

The Mother will continue her role of guiding and providing, until the young one is ready for independence. I’ll keep watching to determine how she knows when it is time.

With humans, the cords may be detached, but the heart strings remain intact for years and miles. And, we are glad to be able to keep in touch with our children through technology. Call your Mama, today.

January 12, 2022January 13, 2022

His Mercies Are New Every Morning

Each morning, when I open window blinds, I look toward this row of trees in my yard. It is a morning refreshment to see the rising sunlight shower its brilliance on the leaves of the oak tree. As the sun rises, the color of light on these trees often gives a foreshadowing of what kind of weather we can expect.

On this particular morning, stormy weather was on its way out and breezes were blowing clouds across the sky to dust away dreariness. A couple of bucks had rested for the night and were stretching toward nourishment for another day.

Sunlight has a deep impact upon my ability to feel refreshed and energized. There is much to be said about a good dose of natural Vitamin D! Even on cloudy days, we know the light of the sun is still there. But when the sun shines bright, it refreshes my soul!

Morning refreshment for me also includes having a few cups of coffee, while reading Scripture and devotional thoughts (before I jump into social media.) This painting makes me think of the phrase, “His mercies are new every morning,” so I pulled it up from the Bible:

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.'”

Lamentations 3:22-24ESV

December 21, 2021June 14, 2022

Benediction

When I was a child, I sat by my father in church, because my mother sang in the choir every Sunday. At the end of each worship service, people would gather up their things to leave. I knew the end was coming because the bulletin said, “Benediction.”

Now if you looked up the definition of “benediction,” it would not say “time to start gathering the bulletin you drew on, put up the half pencil in the pew rack, and pick up your Bible and sweater to leave.”

I learned as I grew older that a benediction is a blessing, an expression of hope for the coming days, and a petition for guidance as we part.

As I come to the close of painting this collection of Texas Skies, I have decided this one shall be called, “Benediction.” It is at the end. It is the twentieth 24×30 sky canvas that is hanging in my studio. It is painted with the blessing of spiritual peace I’ve experienced in this process. It is painted with a hope that it will bring peace to the ones who view it. It is painted with prayers of petition for many. And, painted with a prayer for God to guide my direction as I look for venues for showing this body of work.

May the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be now and forever more in our hearts and minds, as we continue to serve Him on this earth in the days ahead.

And because this is my Benediction, I will now gather up the paintbrushes and prepare to leave.

October 28, 2021October 28, 2021

The Beauty of an Old Barn

This old barn is deserted, but still standing, beside County Line Road #939, near Mart, Texas. It grabs my attention each time I travel by. With the goal of painting its stately beauty, I stopped recently for a few photos in good light.

The gambrel style shape of the rusted tin roof may be the first thing that caught my attention. It’s red patina is smooth and beautiful, against a blue sky. But, the unique advantage of being able to see light coming through a window on the back side of the barn captured my emotion. The left side of the barn is whole, complete with a closed door. When one walks to the other side, the open wall reveals the darkness of the hollowed out void inside the deserted barn. Weathered wood and weeds winding inward guard the edges. Yet, there is that small window of hope where the light of the sky enters and shines through to the front.

And somehow, I identify. We have sides of us that are protected, closed up to risks and leery of dangers. But, every now and then, someone walks around to the other side and sees our soul; bare, raw, and open, allowing light to enter and come through the hollow spaces. There is beauty in aging gracefully against the wind. And strength in allowing light to shine through.

February 13, 2020February 13, 2020

Titled “Redemption”

It had been the kind of day that makes you want to wrap up in a blanket and watch tv. The cloud cover and fog made it hardly worth looking out the window. And the damp cold did not beckon one to go anywhere on that January day.

But, about sunset, on the day when I thought the sun would never shine, the wind began blowing the darkness away, the clouds broke open and the light burst through! The beautiful, multicolored, warm light, made my spirit soar! I posted the photo on social media and remarked that “the day had redeemed itself!”

With that in mind, the title, “Redemption,” is placed on this painting. The day redeemed itself so that I didn’t strike it off the calendar as meaningless. My attitude was redeemed by recovering from dreariness. And I was reminded of how beautiful it is when a wrong is corrected, or when things are made right.