Small Starts, Big Results

It's a busy time of year as I prepare for my final out-of-state art show in Bethesda, Maryland, this weekend. In addition to my usual show preparations, I've started to work on my annual 25 Days of Minis, a collection of small original paintings perfect for gift giving or for splurging yourself during the holiday season. 

Through this endeavor, I partner with a great group of fellow artists and you can check out all of them on the 25 Days of Minis website.

For the past several years, the minis have been a fun way for me to explore my ideas with a greater sense of adventure. It's remarkable how something small scale frees me up for greater experimentation without any sense of pressure or fear about, "Oh, no, what if I screw up this big canvas?"

(Yes, even after almost twenty years of painting, there is still that little questioning voice at times.)

Often, I will revisit these subjects in larger pieces. It occurred to me this year, why not make that bigger thing a more formal deal? So, I'm pleased to share that each Thursday during December, I'll share a new, "mega" companion painting based off of the smaller mini study for that day. There will be four new mega paintings for you to enjoy as we wrap up 2022. 

One of the mega paintings will be a landscape based off of this mini, "Study, Luminous." I thought it would be fun to share with you how fun and splashy a small painting can be through this timelapse showing its genesis. 

Drop by my website on Thursday, December 1 to see this finished mini as well as its big sibling. Stay tuned!

Pivot

 Shown: Summer Oak (left) and Solstice Sky (right)

It's been a busy summer and not quite as I would have planned it. To start the season, I got some good news in late May when I learned that my fractured feet are finally beginning to heal. Huzzah! 

Getting to this point has required a lot of my time and attention. Unfortunately, my feet still aren't quite where I want them to be as I begin a late summer / autumn schedule of outdoor art shows. I had planned to exhibit my oil paintings during back-to-back weekends of the Rehoboth Art League Outdoor Art Show in Delaware next month. But I won't have the help of my underpaid artist's assistant and husband, Tim, for the first weekend and I'm not quite physically ready to tackle the rigors of set up and weekend hours alone. 

As a result, I will be at just the second weekend, August 13-14. It's one of my favorite shows to do and I hate missing one of the weekends, but I'm trying to keep longer-range goals and my well-being in mind. I regard this as a short-term "pivot" for long-term gain.

Recent months have been instructive to me on how to move to a back up plan. As I continue to get my feet into art show shape, I've been focusing on a series of skyscapes / cloud paintings. This is my "head in the clouds" antidote to my feet. 

Shown above are two new landscapes, Summer Oak and Solstice Sky. I caught both of these subjects at a favorite municipal park here in Knoxville, Tennessee where I've been walking each evening with my husband as I strengthen my feet and get back to fighting trim for my outdoor art shows! 

I'm having a lot of fun with these landscapes and I'll probably sprinkle in some more ideas under this theme as we ease out of summer and into fall. Enjoy!

 

Back on the Road - Yay!

 

Plein air painting in Prime Hook, a National Wildlife Refuge
for migratory birds in Delaware.

This past weekend, I exhibited my latest oil paintings in my first outdoor art show in nearly two years due to the pandemic.

I recognize that things are not back to a pre-pandemic "normal" (whatever that was) and they probably never will be. But I'm just very grateful for the opportunity to get out and travel while sharing my artwork with others. As the old saying goes, "You don't realize what you've got until it's gone," and I certainly felt that sentiment keenly last year as my art shows were cancelled and the best thing to do was to hunker down for a while.

All of that time at home gave me lots of time to reflect on my art and identity. Apparently, there's nothing like a grave pandemic to encourage some navel gazing. Nonetheless, one thing that surprised me is just how much I enjoy taking in new artistic inspiration from my travels. I'm an introvert and I consider myself a pretty resolute home body. I love to spend time in my garden. But over this past year-and-a-half, I realized that I thrive on experiencing new destinations, too. 

So as I visit the state of Delaware and participate in the Rehoboth Art League Outdoor Fine Art and Craft Show over consecutive weekends, I've made it a point to swim in the ocean, paint outdoors at some new locations, and indulge in a few milkshakes, too. I'm extremely grateful for these opportunities and I look forward to taking home some new artistic inspiration and energy. 

Closing out a Gnarly Year

 

Coda, 6 x 12 inch oil on canvas
My final "mini" painting for 2020

Wow, for as gnarly as this past year was, it still seemed to go by quickly. On many occasions, I was confused about what day of the week it was because many of the days blurred together without my usual schedule of art shows and exhibitions to anchor my awareness. But as I look back, I am extremely grateful for the work I was able to create and for being able to remain healthy.

I want you to know how much I appreciate your support of my artwork. With your help, I got through a year that sometimes seemed overwhelming and mystifying. 

Like many of you, these past months forced me to evolve and to innovate. I enjoyed showing my Knoxville studio and new paintings to you through live online shows. I upgraded my web site to offer you better ways to see my artwork. I also tapped into my old video and film production skills to share more about my artistic process and to stay connected with you via social media.

I’m optimistic about the year ahead. I have some cool, new ideas that I’ll be working on and I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to travel to some of my outdoor art shows later in the year following the vaccine rollout. Until then, please know that I’m deeply grateful for your interest in what I do. I look forward to sharing more landscape and cityscape paintings with you in 2021.

20 First Dates: November Horizon

 

November Horizon
12 x 36 inch oil on canvas

Earlier this week, my uncle passed away. His loss got me reminiscing fondly about my childhood in Wisconsin and the positive role that he and my aunt played in my life. In response to this nostalgia, I detoured on my choice of painting to feature for your next date and I decided to process my emotions through my work.

November Horizon is loosely based on my grandparents' farm in the central Wisconsin community of Chilton, where my family shared many wonderful memories together. To my artist's mind, Wisconsin is all about expansive skies, low horizons, and dramatic cloud formations. This moment captures the golden light of a late fall afternoon as winter approaches. I love the richness and broad sweep of this painting. 

 

 

Details of November Horizon

 

 

 

 

 

 

Framed view of the painting in a satin black canvas floater.

Framed dimensions of 13.5 x 37.5 inches.

20 First Dates: Spill and Chill

 

 

Spill and Chill
8 x 10 inch oil on panel

When I need to regain my emotional footing, I head outdoors, preferably to places out of cell phone range. The sparkling rivers roaring through the Great Smoky Mountains always soothe me. I'm fascinated by the movement and contour of water, and the title of this painting describes the cascading spill of the water, combined with how it helps me to chill out.

Painted en plein air along the Middle Prong River, Spill and Chill is a meditation on crisp stream water and the kaleidoscope of shimmering colors that sing during an early autumn day. Shown here is a "Video Postcard from the Easel" with the painting in progress during an absolutely gorgeous early autumn day. Check out the colors in the river water!

Spill and Chill in a bronze frame
Framed dimensions of 13.5 x 15.5 inches

20 First Dates: Collide

 

Collide, 20 x 30 inch oil on panel

This new landscape addition to my "20 First Dates" series of original paintings comes from a summer evening bike ride. When I was a kid, I spent many summer afternoons riding my bike across the family farm-dotted countryside of southern Wisconsin. Because of those fond memories from my childhood, I've always been partial to the quintessential red barn as a subject. And when it's complemented by a dramatic summer sky, it's irresistible to me.

 

Study, Nexus 6 x 8 inch oil on panel
This was the initial study

I first explored this motif as a small study late last year and I decided to revisit it as a larger piece because, well, a subject like this is sort of like comfort food for me. The title is a reference to the way the clouds framed the barn, when the natural elements just magically fell into place.  

 

  

Detail of Collide, 20 x 30 inch oil panel

 

 

 

Framed view of Collide,
in a bronze frame with dark gold highlights

 

 

 

Get Lost

Tailgate Painting: When I need to get a higher vantage point for painting,
the back bed of my pickup truck fits the bill perfectly.

It's been a long, hot summer in eastern Tennessee. I'm still acclimating to the hotter conditions in my new home state.

The good news is that I've been able to get out and explore my new surroundings more this summer. Our first months in Tennessee last summer were chock full of home repairs, home maintenance, and general home upgrades. Do you sense a theme?

Anyways, this summer things have been better and more sane. It's been good to get out of the confines of our home and to explore my surroundings a bit more. I still have a ton of Tennessee state parks to visit, but I've spent more time working in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park as well as rural farm areas north of Knoxville.

When I go out into the countryside, I set a goal to get lost. I'm always intrigued by what may lie around the next bend in the road and I enjoy veering off of the beaten path to find places to paint. Shown above is a recent photo from an outing near New Market, Tennessee. The grasses along the roadside were over the height of my head, so I had to go with my "tailgate" painting set up on the back bed of my truck. I'm happy to have that option.

I look forward to sharing more with you on my "Get Lost" excursions. Stay tuned.

A Great Smoky Mountains Project

I'm delighted to share that the Knoxville Arts and Culture Alliance awarded me a Bailey Opportunity Grant for fiscal year 2020!

With support from this grant, I'm going to complete my training and certification as a Southern Appalachian Naturalist. This program is offered at the Great Smoky Mountains Institute at Tremont, located within the national park.

I've taken my first class and will continue my studies through next year. During this time, I'll document my observations and experiences of the park through my landscape painting. Most of the paintings will be small, plein air field studies. But I'll also complete some larger studio works.

The idea for this project echoes something I did while I lived in Pennsylvania. Back then, I created a series of plein air landscape paintings from central Pennsylvania's Black Moshannon State Park. I spent over a decade working in the park, getting to know it throughout the four seasons. As I developed a body of work that eventually numbered up to nearly 50 plein air paintings as well as many larger works, I wrote a book about the park's history and ecology, sharing my visual interpretations of the park with a narrative tracing its history and modern day ecology. I fell in love with that location by getting to know it well and one of my goals for this new project is to gain the same intimacy and reverence for my new home in Tennessee.

I've already ventured up to the Great Smoky Mountains many times and I'm really excited about the new sources of inspiration. Yet I'm also keenly aware of how much I don't know, everything from the broad history of the park to the minute details of its ecology. A vital part of my artistic process is to feel (at least a little bit) knowledgeable about my subjects. This is why when someone approaches me and asks me to paint something from their old family photos, I've always declined unless I can go see the place for myself. The direct experience and ability to witness the details firsthand is critical to my ability to make a successful painting.

This will be a long-term project and I have several goals. Not only do I want to create a new body of artwork that will allow me to call Tennessee my "home," but I also want to share what I learn with others in an effort to help them appreciate the park, its history, and its ecology. Of course, you'll see new works here on my web site as I finish them. Stay tuned!

A Television Interview

Earlier this spring, the producers of "Tennessee Life" with East Tennessee PBS television reached out to me and inquired about interviewing me for a segment in an upcoming episode of their program.

It was a great experience to share what I do, as well as the "how" and the "why." Being an artist means that I spend a lot of days alone, working at my easel with just my dogs for feedback (they are wonderful art critics). So it's a privilege when someone takes an interest in what I do.

Following our move to Tennessee a year ago, I've begun work on a new series called "30 from Tennessee." This is my way of sharing my initial impressions of my new surroundings and of getting to know my new home. During the interview for "Tennessee Life," I spoke about this new series of paintings as well as my approach to my artwork. It's really important to me to share the beauty of everyday moments and to highlight the cool things that surround each of us. Under the right light, just about anything is a worthy painting subject!

I hope you enjoy the interview and the glimpse into my studio.

30 from Tennessee

Happy New Year, y'all!

After a tumultuous transition from Pennsylvania to a new home in Tennessee in 2018, I'm looking forward to a quieter year ahead with better opportunities for creation and calmness. Huzzah!

To start 2019, I'm going to focus on a brand new series of works. Since landing in Knoxville, I've tried some new foods (and discovered that I love sorghum butter and biscuits) and I've seen a lot of new things, including southern cities that I hadn't previously visited as well as stunning Tennessee state parks. Visiting all of these places helps me learn more about the history and culture of my new home. And all of these new visual stimuli have already had an influence on my artwork. For example, I now have access to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park within an hour's drive of my home. I've really enjoyed going out there to work en plein air because I'm learning a ton about light effects and capturing roaring streams.

"30 from Tennessee" will be a series of paintings inspired by my new surroundings in eastern Tennessee. These small format works and studies will highlight my early impressions of my new home. I'll roll out a new painting once every week or two and the subjects will vary between my favorite themes of landscapes and cityscapes.

Great Smoky Mountains No. 1 - Early Fall
8 x 12 Oil on linen panel

The first piece I'm featuring in this series is "Great Smoky Mountains No. 1 - Early Fall." This painting was created en plein air along the Middle Prong of the Little River in the park, just south of Townsend, Tennessee.

If you've followed my landscape work over the years, then you know that I enjoy working in a series format for my plein air landscape subjects, especially when I find a place that I really enjoy, such as the gorgeous Black Moshannon State Park near my old home in central Pennsylvania, which inspired a series of forty-six works spanning over a decade. "Early Fall" is the first in what I anticipate will be a long-running series of works from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and I'm pleased with the quality of light within this work. In addition to the milder climate here in the south, the light is a littler warmer, too. It's different from what I'm accustomed to north of the Mason Dixon Line, and I'm enjoying this new quality.

Stay tuned for new additions to the "30 from Tennessee" series in 2019. As my work schedule permits, I'll unveil a new piece every week or two on my Instagram account. You can also visit my web site to see the full series in progress.

Making New Friends

With the conclusion of my outdoor art show season last month, I've spent this month getting out and (finally) exploring the landscape of eastern Tennessee.

The decision to move to Tennessee and leave Pennsylvania was agonizing for me. But after 14 years in Pennsylvania, I was well acquainted with the beautiful state parks in the central region where we lived. I'd also ventured to quite a few equally gorgeous ones in other parts of the state, especially near the Poconos Mountains. By no means had I "seen it all," but there was a small, quiet gnawing in me that began to grow louder: I needed to shake up the snow globe and try something different.

Tennessee has a great reputation for its outdoor offerings. But my first months here didn't exactly go as planned.

As I've described in previous posts, the home we purchased needed a lot of attention and maintenance, eating up an inordinate amount of time. But what was worse was that shortly after we arrived, my trusty studio mascot and erstwhile woodlands companion, Maple, was diagnosed with elbow dysplasia. This has meant no more woodland hikes together. I mourned this new state of affairs throughout the summer. I was reluctant to go out alone, both from a sentimental and safety standpoint.

Then my father-in-law passed away and I did my best to support my husband while he and his sister got their mom resettled into assisted living, just a year after they lost their brother to cancer. Oh, and it was sizzling hot and humid, too. I was one sweaty Yankee all of this past summer.

Uff dah!

So, it's been a real treat to get out and explore a bit this month. The opportunity to work en plein air has nourished my soul.

I've spent most of my time venturing out the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, located about 45 minutes from our high maintenance home (did I just write that? Pardon my ruthless cynicism.) Anyways, the last time I passed through the Smokies was as a young and very car sick-prone child during a torturous summer family car trip. I'm on better terms now with the park.

Shown here are a couple of "Postcards from the Easel" with my field easel and small landscape works in progress. I'm slowly making friends with this new landscape, and I'm enjoying the cooler days of fall while I'm at it.

The finishing touches on Finding Centre

Uff dah! I'm almost across the finish line for a local exhibition of brand new paintings featuring my home, Centre County, Pennsylvania. I'm really excited about this show because not only did I get to work with my friend and fellow artist, Alice Kelsey, we also partnered with a local land preservation organization, Clearwater Conservancy. Thanks to their generous support of this endeavor, Alice and I were able to visit beautiful locations that they've preserved within our community in recent years.

Painting en plein air at the Meyer Dairy Farm in State College, Pennsylvania.

Despite being laid low by a nasty respiratory flu for the past few days, I've been busy with the finishing touches on many new paintings, taking care of details that range from varnishing to framing. Shown here are a couple of "behind the scenes" moments from the work behind this new exhibition. I hope to see you at the opening reception at the State College Framing Company and Gallery this Saturday, November 4 from 4:30pm to 7:30pm.

Framing Frenzy! Putting the final touches on framing a small original, Winter Study, Upper Brush Valley Road.

Yeoman's Work

Springtime, Reeds Gap 8 x 10 oil on linen panel. I painted this en plein air in central Pennsylvania's Reeds Gap State Park.

My first "real" job after I finished college at the University of Wisconsin-Madison was a full-time gig at a non-profit organization in Madison, Wisconsin. Back then, I did web site development and computer programming. My job with the non-profit was a new one within the organization and it had nothing to do with my recently-earned degree in art, but it paid the bills and it offered a pleasant place to work.

Following my initial 6-month probationary period, I received my first performance review. It was positive. One thing that my supervisor wrote stuck out to me because I didn't understand it: "Sarah is doing yeoman's work."

I had to take my 21-year old self to the nearest dictionary and look up the phrase yeoman's work:

of, pertaining to, composed of, or characteristic of yeomen: the yeoman class....performed or rendered in a loyal, valiant, useful, or workmanlike manner, especially in situations that involve a great deal of effort or labor

I was grateful for the acknowledgment of my effort and the compliment. Fast forward all these years later, and that term still resonates with me. Throughout my career as an artist, I've tried to maintain this demeanor throughout what I do. Traveling to outdoor art shows, gambling on the weather and so many elements outside of my control is hard work, even beyond long hours logged in my studio to create my artwork.

This past week, our family lost a loved one following a valiant battle against cancer. Like so many others afflicted with this dreadful disease, he was far too young. Witnessing his death and supporting my husband through this loss got me thinking again about this phrase yeoman's work.

I don't have kids, just a couple of spoiled dogs. For me, my artwork is my legacy in this world. Indeed, one of the biggest reasons why I jettisoned my bright career in computer programming and web site development was because it all seemed so empty to me. I felt that the very next day, I could be replaced and the next person could come in, re-write the code, re-design my projects and poof, there would be no evidence that I was ever there. I wanted to make use of my intrinsic drawing talent and my creativity.

Losing our loved one last week reinforced and reinvigorated this desire to create and to do it well. For as the definition above indicates, being an artist requires a great deal of effort and labor. In the coming months, I'm looking to renew my dedication to what I do. As I saw all too plainly last week, life is short, life is fast. It's such a cliché, but there is no time to waste. And it takes a lot of work to maximize the time we have.

Shown here is a small plein air landscape that is a kick start to this renewed devotion to my work. "Springtime, Reeds Gap" was begun earlier this season in central Pennsylvania's lovely Reeds Gap State Park. I was really pleased with the start that I got on this motif, but I wanted to polish it up in my studio with the final details. I brought it home and I looked at it for days, then weeks, and then a couple of months.

After returning from a harrowing family trip to support others in a time of need and loss, I found that I was having a hard time getting back into the groove in my studio. I was emotionally drained. Suddenly, I realized that I was finally at the perfect point to finish this painting. I rarely sign my paintings with my full name. But following the loss of our loved one, I wanted to add an exclamation point to the first painting finished after the emotional turmoil of shock and grief.