What's Your 20? Study, Crossroads

 

Study, Crossroads
12 x 12 inch oil on panel

Study, Crossroads, a plein air landscape, is the second addition to my "What's Your 20?" series of works to celebrate my 20th anniversary of working as a professional artist. I painted this subject on location in East Tennessee, and it drew my interest because of how it evoked my childhood in southern Wisconsin: A towering, cloud-studded sky over a vast landscape. 

This subject was indeed at a rural crossroad, but the title has a more nuanced meaning for me. It's been one helluva summer here in Tennessee. My Dad has been in and out of the hospital, dodging death a couple of times. I've tried to help both him and my Mom as best as I can, and sometimes it's difficult to come back to my easel and paint. When I got out to this location, I felt the inexorable pull between youth and, shall we say, NOT youth? 

It's been an emotional summer. I was very happy to have the opportunity to work outside in such a beautiful location to capture this magical moment. 

What's Your 20? A new series of paintings....

This year is my 20th anniversary working as a 

full-time professional artist!

And, oh, the stories that I could tell you. I've met so many wonderful people through my profession, both interested patrons and fellow artists. It's still the greatest source of joy for me when someone chooses to invest in a painting that I created. 

Along the way, I've made plenty of mistakes -- everything from leaving home without an essential part of my show display to putting the hanging wire onto a piece upside down. I've felt the lowest of lows, from disastrous outdoor art shows marred by terrible weather (hurricane rainfalls, high winds, sleet, and more!) to having my cargo van vandalized. 

But I just keep going. That really is the secret sauce to all of this. As is having the help of my supportive husband, Tim. We don't always match at art shows, but sometimes there aren't many alternatives left in the suitcase during a trip (!)

As I mark this occasion, I look back and realize that my next outdoor art show, The Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Show in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania this weekend has been in the making for the past couple of decades, as well as my lifetime. To celebrate this anniversary, I'm introducing a new series called, "What's Your 20?" Colloquially this shorthand expression is a way of asking, "What's your location?"

In this series of paintings, I'll share where I've been in my career by highlighting many of my favorite themes. I'll also foreshadow where I'm going, with some new ideas and fresh ways of seeing, as referenced by Picasso in his famous quote, "It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child."

"What's Your 20?" Kicks off with a new landscape from the Great Smoky Mountains, Winter Haven.

I chose this debut subject because it bridges my past with my present. Moreover, I believe one of my responsibilities as an artist is to showcase the beauty that surrounds us each day, even a cold day, and even in the midst of the challenging issues that confront us in our modern world.

From my earliest memories of ice skating -- wobbling around on the Yahara River in southern Wisconsin wearing my brothers' hand-me-down hockey skates -- right up to my present-day home in east Tennessee, winter is integral to my identity as an artist. It's a season of restoration, and nothing clarifies the contours of the land like a fresh, fluffy layer of snow, which -- incidentally -- is never "just white."

“What’s Your 20?” will continue now through the end of this year with a featured painting each month. 

A Difficult Goodbye

Plein air painting in central Pennsylvania

Earlier this week, my husband and I said goodbye to our beloved dog of nearly twelve years, Maple.

While still a puppy, Maple was abandoned to an almost certain death in the woods of central Pennsylvania until she was found by a good samaritan who brought her to an animal shelter. Even when we adopted her months later, you could still count every rib on her because she was so malnourished. 

Staking a claim to the map of the world and my world

With that rough start, Maple was severely under socialized when we brought her home. She was afraid of her own shadow, birds, and had a difficult time understanding rainfall. She was extremely anxious. Multiple remote controls, ball point pens, wooden furniture, and more fell victim to her compulsive chewing. 

Lounging in the studio, behind my easel

I didn't think she could grow into a worthy pet and companion. Indeed, some of the worst fights my husband and I ever had in our nearly 22-year marriage were about "that dog," who would often dart into my art studio, grab a colorful pastel stick, and then streak down the hallway, trailing nasty drool stained the same color as the pastel stick. 

Keeping a watchful eye on me while
plein air painting 

Maple taught me patience. She taught my humility. And she taught me that dogs are absolutely amazing. Within a couple of years, she became a wonderful companion, and I always felt at ease having her by my side on remote woodland hikes or plein air painting excursions. She became my beautiful studio mascot, and frequently kept me company while I worked long, solitary hours in my studio. 

The void in our home now is immense, exceeded only by the hole in my heart. We'll eventually adopt her successor. But for now, please give your own pet an extra measure of affection today in honor of Maple, whom I will always miss. 

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!

Back to Basics

 

A garden harvest!

Summer is flying past and it's shaping up to be a busy fall with upcoming art shows. I'm excited! But sometimes I can get a little overwhelmed with all of the things that I need to do. When I start to feel lost, I reel myself back in through a couple of means. 

The first is my garden. Thanks to my parents, I've always had a garden of some sort since childhood. Sometimes it was a modest set up, such as pots on my apartment balcony in Wisconsin or a shared community garden plot in Maryland. Now, I'm pleased to have a wonderful backyard oasis in Knoxville, Tennessee. The photo above shows a recent harvest. We have massive fig trees and all of the flowers you see pictured I started from seed in our basement back in March. 

The other way I marshal myself during busy times is by getting "back to basics" with my work. Nothing grounds me and calms me more than picking up a stick of charcoal and working out my ideas with some inexpensive newsprint paper. It's very freeing and I find that it makes it easier for me to tackle more complicated ideas, such as this recent cityscape, "Focus!"

Focus!

30 x 40 inch oil on canvas

I had this idea from an outing to New York City for quite a while, but I needed to mull it over before I dove into it because of the subtleties of light and shadow. The best way for me to "break the glass" on this motif was to begin with vine charcoal sketches. Shown here are a couple of the initial sketches I made to map out this idea in my mind before taking up a paintbrush. 

I also like to use color maps to envision the overall values before I start mixing up paint. Shown below is the small map that I used to guide me throughout the creation of this painting. 

Once I have these details set in my mind's eye, I'm ready to jump into the actual painting. And a great representational painting always has an abstract foundation, as you can see here in this video clip: The Initial Block-In

Thanks to my garden and some sticks of charcoal, I'm able to juggle quite a bit during a busy time. Sometimes, getting back to basics is a good thing!

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!

 

Thanksgiving in May

My left foot, showing stress fractures in the second and third metatarsals.
Within a couple of months, my right foot broke, too. Ugh.

Did you know that we are exactly six months from Thanksgiving? It may seem like an odd time to think ahead to that occasion, but holding onto gratitude is more important to me now than ever before and I'm using this day to declare Thanksgiving in May. Allow me to explain...

As I wrapped up my outdoor art show season last fall, my feet hurt. Setting up and tearing down for outdoor art shows is hard work, so bothersome feet aren't unusual. But this time it was worse than usual. Being the (slightly) middle-aged artist that I am, I figured that I just needed an orthotic or better shoes. Then I could keep on selling my paintings at outdoor events, like I have for nearly two decades.

I was really shocked when my doctor told me that I had non-traumatic stress fractures in my left foot. To make matters worse, subsequent lab work revealed that I have crummy bone quality courtesy of a hereditary condition. My foot was merely the leading indicator of significant problems. I was sent home with a walking boot to use for several months while my foot healed.

But it didn't heal.

In January, my other foot broke after months of bearing the additional, compensatory load while I wore the boot. Talk about an epic bummer!

As someone who's generally enjoyed good health up until this point in my life, I was at a low point emotionally. The constant pain and future uncertainty have been a big paradigm shift for me. My paternal grandmother used to tell me, "Health is wealth" and it's a message that I internalized from a young age, perhaps no more so than in these recent months.

My feet still are not fully healed and it's still painful. But I'm slowly improving, courtesy of some amazing individuals who have helped me through this difficult time. I want to acknowledge each of them here: 

First, my husband, Tim, who has been a bedrock of encouragement and support. I half-jokingly refer to him as my "Underpaid Artist's Assistant," but I've always appreciated that he is worth solid gold. This has remained true in recent months. He's been so kind and unwavering in his support while I regain function. He genuinely loves what I do as an artist and he's helped me see how I can move forward. 

Next, my fitness team. I enjoy lifting weights and being active. Now, my quality of life pretty much depends on it. And sometimes life gives you exactly what you need. I became good friends with a collector who's a personal trainer. Since February, Robert has generously donated his time to work with me twice a week in his gym and help me remain active despite my broken feet. I really can't thank him enough for stepping into my life and up to a big task.

I'm also working with a wonderful physical therapist who has been incredibly creative in adapting therapies to my needs. Y'all, my condition was so bad that my previous physical therapist who helped me rehab from hip surgery a couple of years ago would not even work with me due to the perceived liability risk! I found a better individual to help me. Ryan has given me a sense of empowerment that has also sustained me emotionally.

Finally, my medical team. I'm fortunate to work with smart people (Rocio, Hannah, Kostas, Paige, and Kelly) who helped me modify my diet and wrestle our stubborn insurance company to the mat to provide medication that I need.  

Thanks to these exceptionally kind and dedicated people, I'm looking forward to continuing my active career painting and exhibiting my artwork. I take one day at a time, literally one step at a time, and I'm cautiously optimistic. There may be setbacks, but rest assured that I'll continue to explore and find ways to share with you my vision of this imperfect yet beautiful world in which we live.

Happy Thanksgiving (in May)!

It Starts With Your Idea

 "Golden Horizon I and II" oil on canvas diptych; each painting 40 x 60 inches

When I exhibit my artwork at outdoor shows, interested patrons often ask me, "How do you come up with your ideas?"

In general, I don't suffer from the artistic equivalent of writer's block, so generating new ideas isn't really a problem for me. If anything, the challenge is finding sufficient time to create all of the things I have floating around in my head. My poor, beleagured husband would be the first to tell you that I'm the worst travel partner ever because I'm always stopping and looking at new things whenever we go places. We can never get from point A to point B in a straight line. 

This tendency to meander through life's subjects is exactly why I enjoy working with clients on commissions. Custom paintings are fun projects because they start with my client's idea, and then we collaborate to make their vision a reality. It's one of the occasions when I can flip things around and say, "It starts with your idea."

A good example of this is a recent landscape diptych that I created, "Golden Horizon I and II." My client was interested in vivid fall colors, mountains, and a bold, contemporary statement. She sent me some landscape photos from around her home out west and the colors she wanted to emphasize. Then I created some small-scale initial studies for her review. After consulting with her about the studies, I painted the finished, full-size works. 

The finished works are oils on canvas, each measuring 40" wide by 60" tall. Below you can see some behind-the-scenes photos of the process behind these paintings in my Knoxville, Tennessee studio.  If you have an idea for a landscape or cityscape painting that you’d like to make a reality, contact me and we can discuss what you’d like.

 

Priming one of the canvases in my studio.
House painting brushes aren't just for painting houses...

 

 

 

 

The client's colors from her decor.

 

 

 

The first block-in of shapes and color. 

This is a really fun part of the process.

 

 

One of the best parts of my job is what I describe as "Swimming in color." 

 

 

 

Another great part of my job? A studio mascot!

Maple was kind enough to glam up a pose for this photo

Study - Follow Me. And Why I Paint...

Study, Follow Me
8 x 12 inch oil on panel

My outdoor art show season didn't get rolling until this past August because of the disruptions from the pandemic. After sitting on the sidelines for over a year, I was thrilled just to be back on the road, sharing my artwork, and meeting interested patrons. 

Although it's already the end of the year, it's also the beginning of a whole new collection of artwork as I participate in 25 Days of Minis. For my first painting in this year's collection, I offer this new landscape painting from central Pennsylvania's Black Moshannon State Park called "Study, Follow Me," 8 x 12 inch oil on panel.

As I look back on this condensed year, I am incredibly grateful for your support and for the privilege of being able to create artwork for a living. With this in mind, the overall theme to my collection of minis is a renewed focus on why I paint. Now through the series conclusion on December 25, I'll introduce an original oil painting each day that offers a prism into what I love about my profession. 

That's me, in my studio, with
the first landscape in this year's 25 Days of Minis

I chose "Study, Follow Me" as my introduction this year because whenever I make a painting, I endeavor to place you directly in my subject, as if you could walk along with me and share the beauty of the moment. This composition invites you into one of central Pennsylvania's true jewels among its state parks during peak fall foliage. Black Moshannon State Park is one of my favorite places on earth, and after a prolonged absence following the pandemic shutdown, I was elated to return there this past October and walk along the Star Mill Trail. The morning light transformed this moment along the trail into something magical.

Join me this month as I unveil a new painting each day. I'll alternate between a landscape and cityscape and you can return here for more insight about each new painting. Enjoy!

Stick a Foot In It

 

Ugh. I'm back on crutches again, for the second time in less than two years.

Late last week, I learned that I have a couple of stress fractures in my left foot. There's never a good time for an injury like this and although I'm glad it didn't occur during my peak summer / fall art show season, I still had to cancel a couple of end-of-year events. The spiffy walking boot that I was given only does so much to mitigate the discomfort, and climbing in and out of my art cargo van right now would be pretty challenging.

So, I'm going to do what does not come naturally to me at all and try to "take it easy" for the next six weeks as my doctor advised. I'm hoping that this setback will be only for the short term and that the longer term ahead in the new year will be better. But, hey, at least my painting hand is not in a walking boot, so that's something, right?

 

 

Our dog, Maple, gives me a quizzical look as she 

watches me wobble around in my new walking boot

Small and Big Things in the Works

A mini 8 x 8 inch original oil on canvas serves as a study
for 30 x 30 inch "Splashdown" in progress on my easel behind it.

 

I'm on the precipice of my last outdoor, out-of-state art show this weekend: the Bethesda Row Fine Arts Festival in Bethesda, Maryland. The weather forecast looks a little rainy, but I'm not complaining. I am just so grateful to have my in-person art shows back after the pandemic lockdown of 2020. Hooray for vaccines!

I didn't resume exhibiting in art shows until this past August, so it's been a compressed season and a crazy busy one at that. As I wrap up my interstate travels, I am very grateful for everyone who has come out in force over these recent months to support my artwork. I missed seeing you in 2020, but your online support allowed me to continue creating during a difficult time. Thank you!

Even though my abbreviated interstate art show season will conclude this weekend, I'm excited about the months ahead. I'm tentatively planning a trip to my old home state of Pennsylvania to visit family and to gather inspiration from the beautiful landscape there. I'm also looking forward to focusing on some overdue commission work for a few clients and I'm already at work on this year's "25 Days of Minis" original oil paintings that I will debut beginning on December 1. And I'll have a couple of local events in my hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee in December. 

Stay tuned for more updates!

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. 

It Just Got Real

 My Dad, Mom, and husband, Tim, at an art show a few years ago.

I saw an old friend yesterday and he asked how things are going. I answered by paraphrasing Charles Dickens, "It's the best of times, and the worst of times."

After over a year of sitting on the sidelines and doing virtual events, I'm ecstatic to have my in-person outdoor art shows make a return later this summer. I can't wait to see all of you again! In addition, I've been commissioned to paint some large pieces by several clients, and I'm busy in my studio working on ideas to come up with just the right mix of subjects and colors. It's always an honor to help people realize their artistic vision for their homes.

But.... You knew there was a "but" coming, right? In addition to dealing with an ongoing health issue from a surgery that I had back in February, a few weeks ago my Dad tripped and fell in his backyard garden in Georgia. 

He broke his neck.  

When my Mom called and told me that he was being med-flighted to a trauma center in Georgia, I immediately went to help them. In fact, my whole family pitched in because it was definitely an "all hands on deck" situation. Following spinal fusion surgery to repair the C2 vertebra, my Dad is back home and recovering now. It will be a long road ahead and I remain concerned. 

Nonetheless, I'm trying to focus on my artwork and prepare for hitting the road again later this summer. A year ago at this time, I really wasn't sure when this opportunity would return, and I'm very grateful to see things re-open and get back on track. During these "best of times, worst of times," a sense of gratitude helps to sustain me and I look forward to seeing you again at a future event. 

Until then, please be well and be sure to tell your loved ones that you love them.

Flower Color

 With my Mom at the Philadelphia Flower Show a few years ago

As we approach Mother's Day next month, I've been thinking a lot about the role of my Mom in my life. During her working years she owned and managed a floral shop. She is an extremely talented floral designer who made beautiful arrangements for all occasions - including my wedding. In retirement she still enjoys creating wonderful bouquets with the fresh flowers grown in her backyard garden. 

In honor of my Mom, and just in time for Mother's Day, I'll offer a new series of small landscape and cityscape paintings inspired by the colors of flowers called Flower Color.

 Buttercup, 11 x 14 oil on panel

A little (ancient) history: Back in 1973, my Mom started her own floral business based out of our home in southern Wisconsin. She took the entrepreneurial plunge based on her love for flowers and a desire to supplement our household income by $50 each month. She quickly vaulted past that benchmark and went on to run a successful business for over two decades as her Floral Design Shop became a well-known presence in our small farming community. 

As a kid growing up during the long winters of Wisconsin, I was surrounded by shipments of exotic tropical flowers, festive bouquets, and a world of vivid color, courtesy of her profession. Although I did not become a florist myself, I learned a lot by watching how she ran her business. 

 Marigold, 20 x 30 oil on panel

My Mom never let anything out of her shop without first ensuring that it was the best quality that it could be and that it was well-presented. I remember her fussing over the pleats in cellophane wrappings around fresh bouquets or carefully stacking clear clam shell containers of corsages and boutonnieres in our refrigerator for high school students to pick up on their prom night. No detail was too small. 

Since starting my own art studio business in 2005, I've aspired to these same high standards in my own work. I like to create one-of-a-kind original paintings because they allow me the opportunity to take a deep, thoughtful dive into each subject and to highlight the details about each subject that I think make them special and worthy. 

This is the first Flower Color installment of artwork and I plan to continue adding to it during subsequent years / Mother's Day holidays.  

 

Shown here are a few recent examples of my Mom's floral designs. Whenever she visits, she likes to bring a fresh bouquet from her backyard garden. How cool is that?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Plein Air Painting as Therapy

The start of a new landscape on my field easel in the Great Smoky Mountains.
Over this past year, retreating into nature has helped me deal with
world events and life changes.

Yesterday, I talked on the phone to a fellow artist and dear friend of mine. Because we live in different parts of the country, we don't connect all that often. But it's the kind of friendship that's easy to rekindle. We just "get" each other, and despite long intervals between our conversations, we can reconnect easily and it's always fun to catch up on what we're doing with our painting. 

As our nation and the world recently marked the one-year anniversaries of the declaration of a pandemic and the subsequent lockdowns, I've been reflecting a lot on how much my art business and my painting have changed over this past year. Last year, all of my outdoor art shows were canceled and I pivoted entirely to online selling through my portfolio site. Thankfully, my clients have been very supportive and with new Internet technologies, it's easier than ever before to sell original artwork while "socially distanced." 

Still, it's been a challenging time. I miss the personal connection of meeting patrons at art shows. On a lighter note, I do hereby pledge to never again whine about rain during an outdoor art show (at this point, I'd be very happy to just exhibit at one). But on a more serious note, as we mark this one-year anniversary, my head is awash in different thoughts. I've been deeply saddened by the profound suffering and loss of this past year. For example, my friend told me yesterday that her father-in-law passed away from Covid-19 just last month, highlighting again how all of the grim statistics are not just numbers, they are beloved people in our lives. 

At the same time, I am deeply grateful for my ability to work as an artist. Throughout this last year, I explored the beauty of the everyday in my immediate surroundings of Knoxville, the Great Smoky Mountains, and Tennessee state parks. Sharing these places in my artwork is my way of trying to contribute something positive during difficult times. Even in the darkest of times, there's beauty out there for us. 

With the rollout of vaccines, I'm cautiously optimistic that I can take these new works on the road later this year and begin to reconnect with interested patrons at art shows and exhibitions. Until then, I'll keep chugging along in my studio and in my "outdoor office" of plein air painting whenever I need a little therapy to deal with all that's happening. I look forward to seeing you in-person at an event (hopefully!) later this year.

Mix and Match

 The Philadelphia Skyline at twilight

Winter is the time of year when I concentrate on client commissions. When I first began working as a full-time artist, I accepted painting commissions for many different subjects including dog portraits. I am a dog person, after all. 

As time went on, I became more selective about what I would paint for clients because I realized a couple of things. First, there were just some subjects for which I was not well suited, such as portraiture (alas, I don't know how to magically take ten years and fifteen pounds off of someone). Secondly, although I like to believe that I can paint pretty much any subject, I recognized that I could do much better work for someone if the subject naturally resonated with me and fell within my usual interest of either a landscape or a cityscape painting.

  The Philadelphia Skyline in summer daylight

This winter, one of the commission ideas I'm most excited about is a skyline view of the city of Philadelphia as seen from my client's rooftop garden. When he and I initially spoke about his idea for this painting, we bonded over a shared history and continuing interest in flowers and gardening. A subject like this is fun for me because it combines a cityscape subject with hints of the natural landscape, including the beautiful sky and the foreground flowers. 

Shown here are two of my initial studies for my client based on the reference material he provided to me. When I work with clients on custom paintings, I like to give them initial studies to review so that we have a good starting point when considering what we want to emphasize in their painting. There's no substitute for the old adage that, "A picture is worth a thousand words." I've found that initial studies help to show the client what I'm thinking. They represent a visual starting point and help my client to discuss desired adjustments and changes before I dive into the final painting. 

In this instance, upon review of these two studies, my client and I decided to go with the more dramatic "twilight" study, but to incorporate a couple of compositional details from the daylight study. Sometimes this selective "mix and match" is what it takes to arrive at the best presentation for my client, and I'm happy when we can draw traits from both studies to make the best possible artwork. 

If you'd like to commission me for a custom oil painting, please contact me!

When Your Day Goes Boom

 My sweet studio mascot, Maple.

I recently joined The Artist Initiative, a group of artists who are working together to improve their businesses and reach individual professional goals. We did many virtual workshops together in mid-January to plan out the months ahead and to take charge of our schedules for 2021. When you're self-employed, there's a beautiful freedom to each day. But it can come with the pitfalls of procrastination and poor time management if one is not careful. 

With the pandemic still a major damper on my plans for outdoor art shows, I found the planning sessions to be really valuable. While I've generally managed to accomplish what I need to do for the past 15+ years of being in business for myself, there's always room for improvement and greater focus on my career goals. 

Yet even the best laid plans for a schedule can go "kablooey," such as today when our elderly dog slipped and fell down the small trio of steps that we have from our bed (yes, our 70lb dog sleeps with us). When she couldn't bear weight on her front leg where she has dysplasia, we immediately took her to the University of Tennessee Veterinary Hospital and then anxiously awaited the results of her exam and X-rays.

Luckily, she did not fracture the area where she has dysplasia and she is back home with us as I write this in the mid-afternoon. But my husband and I are now both pretty emotionally exhausted, especially since we're still haunted by the loss of our other dog almost exactly one year ago. I love my studio mascot and I'm happy to have her back home and on the mend. I'll get back on the beam tomorrow with my meticulously planned schedule, but for today I'm just breathing a big sigh of relief.

Back to Black (and white)

 

The Center City skyline of downtown Philadelphia
as viewed from a spectacular urban rooftop garden

 

I'm listening to AC / DC’s hit "Back in Black" as I write this because it's the perfect theme song for what I’m working on right now. During these winter months when I'm not exhibiting at outdoor art shows (and especially during a time of pandemic), I use this quieter time to work on custom painting commissions for clients.

 

Among a few projects that I have in process right now is a custom cityscape painting that will feature the Center City skyline of downtown Philadelphia. There are many factors to consider in a subject so complex, everything from light and atmosphere to the details of the architecture. To keep an idea like this from becoming overwhelming, I go back to basics and go "back to black." Gosh, it's almost a perfect title to pair with AC / DC, right? 

 

 

An alternative perspective of the subject  

 

What I mean by this is that I strip down the idea to graphite renderings in my sketchbook to work out the composition and approach. This is just a first building block. In the coming weeks, I’ll do a couple of small scale color studies for my client to review. As the old saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and these first practice runs at an idea allow me to communicate what I’m thinking to my client and also help him offer his thoughts and ideas during the process. 

 

There’s nothing wrong with going "back to black" to create a full-color painting!

Real Artists Ship

 

My plein air field easel with a Pennsylvania landscape in progress

"Real artists ship."

This quote, attributed to the founder of Apple Computer, Steve Jobs, is one of my guiding principles in my art studio practice. Real artists don't tinker, they deliver. Real artists don't nibble around the edges, they get things done.

This new year of 2021 has me reflecting a lot on what values and goals I want to emphasize in my art. In normal, non-pandemic times, I embraced this mantra of "shipping" while juggling the demands of outdoor art shows, commissions, and regional exhibition opportunities. Whether it was dealing with long distance travel, inclement weather, or unpredictable socioeconomic events (I distinctly recall doing an art show in New York State right after the venerable Lehman Brothers brokerage house shuttered), this principle of "just get it done" has guided me through a lot of static during my artistic career. 

During the peak demands of my summer and fall art show seasons, a beautiful, sunny day was not an occasion to knock back and relax. No, it was an opportunity to go to a nearby park and do some plein air landscape painting. And although I sometimes wanted nothing more than to launch an uncooperative cityscape painting out of my studio window in a fit of pique, I persevered until the late hours and then got back up again at 3am the next morning to finish it to my satisfaction so that it could be dry and ready to display for my next art show that month. 

"Real artists ship."

But as we enter 2021, I'm waiting on the sidelines for a vaccine before I believe I can safely travel to my favorite outdoor art shows. For a variety of reasons, it may be a while before I can receive this masterpiece of modern science.

So, my plan to start 2021 and for the foreseeable future will be to continue to share my new paintings with you online through virtual events and private Zoom showings. I'm also going to temporarily set aside this mantra of "shipping" and take a deep dive into some bigger paintings. While the hamster wheel of my usual schedule is still, I now have the time to explore some ideas that I've had sitting around for years because I was so busy "shipping." This downtime can be a blessing, and I'll do my best to share some different ideas with you in 2021.

I look forward to the opportunity to share these larger scale paintings with you. In the meantime, I wish all of you good health, safety, and happiness in this New Year.

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.