Melanie Stokes Art

Tag: texas landscape

  • Survivors on the Window Trail

    Survivors on the Window Trail
    20×16 oil

    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!

  • Ending the Day

    Ending the Day at Santa Elena Canyon
    24×30 oil

    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

    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!

  • Balancing Rhythm and Rest

    Balancing Rhythm and Rest, 24×30 oil

    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!

    May you find Rest in the Rhythm of your days!

  • A Freshly-Cut Path

    melaniestokesart.com

    A Freshly-Cut Path 11×14 oil

    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

  • Headed Home, Again

    Headed Home, Again
    24×30 oil, available

    A few years ago, I painted an evening skyscape with only a few tiny cows walking in a line on a ribbon of a landscape and called it Headed Home. So, when the title “Headed Home” came to mind for this new landscape, I named it Headed Home, Again. Then, I started thinking of the implications of that title.

    Home is the place we return to day after day. We head home — again and again. And there is comfort in that. Home is a place to go to after a busy day. Home is a place where others greet you. Home is a place you can kick off your shoes and relax. Home is a place you can be. And, it also makes me think of the eternal, heavenly home that I believe in, through faith in Jesus Christ.

    My home has never been on a country road. (Not counting the two years we lived in Sierra Leone.) I grew up in a subdivision, where all the kids rode bikes together and knew who lived in each house. My adult years have been in a variety of settings, moving in ministry with my minister husband. We have never lived in such a place as this — with wide open acres, surrounded by magnificent skies and cow pastures. This is now our “home.”

    Mart, Texas is about twenty minutes from Waco, Texas. So after going shopping, or banking, or to get a haircut, or to church, or to attend an art event, the ride back home goes from the congested craziness of downtown Waco, to the endless Loop 340, to rural roads like this. When I turn off the Loop onto Elk Road, I notice that I inhale with a relaxed breathing and almost a sigh of relief that I am back on “country roads.” Obstacles in the road, and rude drivers, can be accepted better when they come upon you one at a time on a deserted road!

    Maybe it’s because I am older now. Maybe it’s that in 45 years of marriage, my husband has helped me see that there is much to enjoy in the quietness of nature. Maybe it’s the place God speaks to me the most, when I look at these vast skies. Maybe I have finally become a person of contentment. (No, probably not. I’m still working on contentment.) 🙂 But, when I travel a fence-lined road in the country, I’m headed home.

  • Morning Light

    melaniestokesart.com
    Morning Light
    24×30 oil on gallery wrapped canvas
    $700

    Painted during the late summer when the hay grass had turned a Naples Yellow, this landscape is currently on my guest room wall. I walked in there today, noticed it, and said to myself, “I had forgotten about that one!”

    I don’t know how I forgot about it, except that it was painted at a time when I was in between shows. It wasn’t dry enough for “From the Ground Up.” And then, life got busy, so I just put it out for sale on my website today!

    I love the finished painting as much as I loved the morning light when it hit that yellow hayfield one summer morning. It was one of those mornings that grabbed my attention and said, “Paint me!” I probably had a coffee cup in my hand, walked out on the porch to breathe, before the Texas heat took over by 10:00 a.m., and used my cell phone to record the scene, for reference in a painting.

    The painting, Morning Light, is in my guest room, for now. But, if it gets your attention and you are interested, be my guest! The paintings on my walls are often changed. (And I wonder if my husband notices.)

  • Protection and Provision

    After a long, hot Texas Summer of no rain, we (as in the collective, whole county “we”) were thrilled to see the storm clouds of September rolling in. The dark clouds and hailstorms came, but we all were glad to see the parched earth become covered in green again.

    Protection
    12×24 oil

    The water in the tanks, ponds, lakes and streams began to rise and the cattle did not have quite as far to stretch into the mud to obtain a drink. Now in November, Lake Waco is able, after a few years, to supply water to all the households which depend on it.

    Provision
    12×24 oil

    The photo references for these paintings were taken on a walk through our property. Both images were striking enough to make me want to paint them. And as I painted, the titles, Protection and Provision, came to my thoughts

    How many times have I used those words, as I prayed for my own or another’s needs? “Lord, grant us Protection and Provision in these days.” Two “P” words that sound poetic, but are packed with power and meaning.

    I hope the images speak. The titles speak. But my words will also speak of the Protection of an Almighty God. I see this in a variety of circumstances, in amazing miracles that have happened, and in retrospective realizations as I live through these years. I live in gratitude for the Provision of daily needs, as I continue to trust God. Just when we think the water is as low as it can go, the rains come. We are restored and ready to move ahead.

  • Just Over the Fence

    Just Over the Fence 12×12 oil

    This is the view I see from my porch. I often sit out there, drinking coffee in the mornings when the weather cooperates. For several days I have been noticing the morning sun glinting off of the red horse trailer, surrounded by wild sunflowers against the overgrown summer greens. And even if it is the first day of summer and we are already hitting temps of close to 100, I sat under the porch shade and painted from 9 to 10 a.m.

    Yes, I have things I need to get painted in the studio. But, this morning, painting en plein air became the priority. While I painted, I listened to the birds sing, felt the warmth of sunshine, and even detected a coyote pup barking somewhere in the brush. All of this was necessary to remind me of why I paint what I paint. A snippet of time, an hour actually, was recorded with colors of paint and a variety of textures to proclaim beauty, and wonder, and miracles that grow from seeds. And I never tire of examining and marveling at it – this natural world in which we live.

    Just Over the Fence – 12×12 en plein air

  • First Spring

    First Spring

    The new calf walks awkwardly, trying to get used to the way her legs work. And the mama cow, (we call her Red), walks along beside Little Red Pepper, casting a shadow of protection over her, as she experiences her first spring.

    I enjoy watching cow behaviors! Sometimes Red walks beside, sometimes leading in front, and sometimes nudging her calf along from the back. But I can see patterns of protectiveness and guidance from the mother figure. And when she needs to graze further away, she leaves the little one in the care of the black angus that we call “Karen” (because Karen seems to be in everyone’s business).

    Painted from my photo reference and experience, I enjoyed depicting this promise of spring. Red Pepper has been peppy from those first days. She is old enough now to run around the pasture, venture further from Mom, and is looking very healthy.

    The warmth of spring light, the excitement of blossoms and flowers budding and blooming, and new life on the prairie always bring hope for days ahead. Walk forward in the light, little one, but come back near the herd when you need them.