Thursday, February 25, 2010
Pictures Coming
I'm sorry that I have not posted more pictures of my work or the exhibition. I will do that very soon. Thanks again to everyone for taking the time to look at my art and provide support and feedback. Now back to painting.
Friday, February 19, 2010
My Gratitude
In putting my BFA final exhibition together, I feel like I put forth my best effort and Heavenly Father helped me through the rest. Everything went miraculously smoothly as I finished up my show and put together my reception, even though I was at the end of my rope. Faith works.
I was also blessed to have family and friends who were willing to help me in any way I needed. Sometimes I say "I couldn't have done it without you" even though I was capable of doing it on my own. This is not one of those times. To those of you involved in helping me put my show and reception together (you know who you are): I couldn't have done it without you.
I was also blessed to have family and friends who were willing to help me in any way I needed. Sometimes I say "I couldn't have done it without you" even though I was capable of doing it on my own. This is not one of those times. To those of you involved in helping me put my show and reception together (you know who you are): I couldn't have done it without you.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Tree Poem
My red leaves are stripped,
My branches stand bare,
Drops of sap on my maple trunk
Are frozen in december air.
Are frozen in december air.
Exposed by the season,
My sap stains are showing,
Only time can heal my blemished bark,
Only hope can keep me growing.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Another Painting and Comments about My BFA Show
I haven't named this one yet. I sent a list of titles to the gallery and I figured when I hang my show up, I'll just match them with whatever paintings I feel like at the time. So I'll get back to you on that.
I hang my show up on Tuesday! I didn't realize when I started how much time and energy it would take to mat and frame thirteen pieces, but I'm glad I did it. Hopefully the extra work will make the finished product that much more rewarding.
I hang my show up on Tuesday! I didn't realize when I started how much time and energy it would take to mat and frame thirteen pieces, but I'm glad I did it. Hopefully the extra work will make the finished product that much more rewarding.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Anticlimactic Victory of Spring
It's February. I don't put much stock in whether the groundhog sees his shadow or not, but the very fact that he looks for it reminds me that spring is going to return. Every February signifies my favorite part of winter--the downhill side. But today, when the temperature was in the upper forties and people ran around in shorts and t-shirts, it felt wrong. I love summer. I wish I could go live in summer weather all year long. But right now, here, it shouldn't be warm.
When I complain about snow, some people tell me "there must be opposition in all things," and therefore we need snow in order to appreciate sun. I tell them that I've had enough snow and, if I never saw it again, I could still appreciate summer for the rest of my life. But maybe there's something to that whole opposition thing. I'm sure it will get colder and snow a few more times before the end of winter. But this February, I'm thinking the victory of spring seems less triumphant when it has conquered nothing more than a few days of snow and a few days of temperatures below twenty degrees.
When I complain about snow, some people tell me "there must be opposition in all things," and therefore we need snow in order to appreciate sun. I tell them that I've had enough snow and, if I never saw it again, I could still appreciate summer for the rest of my life. But maybe there's something to that whole opposition thing. I'm sure it will get colder and snow a few more times before the end of winter. But this February, I'm thinking the victory of spring seems less triumphant when it has conquered nothing more than a few days of snow and a few days of temperatures below twenty degrees.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Perfect Palette and Why I Paint
I paint these things because they mean something to me--something that is so much a part of me that I can't seem to fully describe it with a single artist statement. In fact, I don't know how to define it without explaining the zillion experiences that have accumulated into my admiration of the natural world.
Here is one of them.
September 4, 2009
Today I had one of those moments. One of those moments that feels like it was preluded by so many others, that felt like it was as predicated as the aligning of the planets or the dying of stars. It was preceded by a realization that the comfortable warmth of august and freedom of shorts and flip flops would soon give way--yet again--to the winter months, through which I fight to survive year after year.
The moment came while I decided to enjoy the heat of midday on a hike. I was by myself, and a little nervous that there wasn't anyone else on the trail. I reached the top, and then started back down. And ran. Fast. My arms were flailing and I felt free and grateful to be alive. The colors of the brown grass, green scrub oak, bright yellow black-eyed susans, and gray storm clouds slowly covering the cerulean sky combined into the perfect palette. Or at least the one closest to my heart. My feet fell to the dirt and gravel rhythmically, in a way that seemed invincible. I moved and breathed differently than any other time I came down that trail. I'm not sure which of the preceding moments of my day or life actually contributed to that moment. But I hope that I have more like it.
Postscript: I have.
Here is one of them.
September 4, 2009
Today I had one of those moments. One of those moments that feels like it was preluded by so many others, that felt like it was as predicated as the aligning of the planets or the dying of stars. It was preceded by a realization that the comfortable warmth of august and freedom of shorts and flip flops would soon give way--yet again--to the winter months, through which I fight to survive year after year.
The moment came while I decided to enjoy the heat of midday on a hike. I was by myself, and a little nervous that there wasn't anyone else on the trail. I reached the top, and then started back down. And ran. Fast. My arms were flailing and I felt free and grateful to be alive. The colors of the brown grass, green scrub oak, bright yellow black-eyed susans, and gray storm clouds slowly covering the cerulean sky combined into the perfect palette. Or at least the one closest to my heart. My feet fell to the dirt and gravel rhythmically, in a way that seemed invincible. I moved and breathed differently than any other time I came down that trail. I'm not sure which of the preceding moments of my day or life actually contributed to that moment. But I hope that I have more like it.
Postscript: I have.
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