Work in Progress

I'm working on a new mixed media piece done with the type of process that I used for Splish. So far I've put down layers upon layers of tissue papers to create shapes and textures. Tomorrow I'll go in with paint to refine shapes, etc.


This will be Edge of the Lake. Yet to come:
Edge of the Forest
Edge of the Storm
Fountain's Edge
Petal's Edge
Edge of the Road
And. . . various other edges.

Edge of Dawn

Living where I do, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, I wake up to beautiful sunrises. My studio window looks up toward peaks and a bit of a bowl shape. When the sun comes up behind the peaks some areas glow while others remain in deep shadow; big old oaks, naked of their leaves for winter, take on a ghostly look with branches appearing silver; distances are confused; and the sky has a brief moment of appearing to have been painted. Then, blink, it's gone, and the light eases toward daylight.

Edge of Sunset

You might ask, "why edges?" Aaaahhh. The answer lies in the complexity. In the middle of the river, at its greatest depth, well, it's water, flowing, moving, powerful, yes, but still water. Where the river touches the shore they join in a dance. Where exactly does the river end and the shore begin? In the heart of the forest, at least a deep forest, it's trees, but at its edge lives smaller brush, more wildflowers. And the animals, oh they love the edges. They can dart out to eat and rush back in for shelter. Or sit at the tip of a tree, the raptors that is, and watch who dares dart out thinking they will eat only to become their lunch. Yes, edges are more complex.

And, there is more challenge, danger even, at the edges. Birth. Death. Standing at the edge of an airplane door with parachute strapped on. Living at the edge of a failing marriage - to stay, to leave, what about the kids, the debt. Yes, the edges hold the challenge. And in the risk, the danger, the complexity, I find my growth. Like the outer ring of a tree. That is where the life force is.

I know of course that there is a time and place for middles. Days I need peace, stability, comfort. But not all my days. For some, I choose edges.

So, the latest in the Edgy series is Edge of Sunset. You know the ones. Those rare times that day doesn't just melt into night but goes down in flames. A brief time, especially at the shore or in the desert, when it's hard to tell where sky, land, water end, where the edges really are. And, is it real? Did I really see this, that brief glimpse of red and pink and purple melting into a haze of colors; or did I only dream it. Perhaps it came at the edge of sleep and wakefulness. Still, it is an Edge.

Ocean's Edge

OK, folks, I couldn't get this photo really right. In person, the blending of colors from sea to foam to mist to clouds to cliffs, well all of it, is much more subtle.


Anyway, this is the second in the series about edginess and edges. No, they won't all be water scenes. There are things like Edge of Darkness in the works. But, please feel free to offer any ideas for edges you'd like to see.

Feelin' Edgy

It's almost time for the bi-annual Studio Tour, and as always, I'm very late in getting prepared. So, my theme for the year will be "Feelin' Edgy". I'm doing a series of small pastels that I can afford to offer at a reasonable price. This first is River's Edge. I've got several more edges in mind or in process, but feel free to leave a comment with your suggestion of edges I might try. I'm also working on a larger mixed media piece, also with an edge theme, that will be my major offering for the Tour.

If you aren't familiar with this event, check out http://www.threeriversartstudiotour.com. It's a not to be missed happening!

I'm baaaaack

OK, if been missing in action on the blogging world, but I'm back.

Just started a new painting & I'll put a pic up tomorrow.

Another birthday, another painting

My son's birthday is December 20th. Since I can never get a read on what he'd really like - and that I can afford - I decided to paint him a dream. I know he has a boat and spends a great deal of time on a lake outside Atlanta. I've never seen either boat or lake. But, my dream is of this time of year, a storm brewing over the lake, white-caps showing, and the green of the southern pines for a backdrop. Now, I know his lake may look nothing like this. But my dream of his lake does.

Once again it's mixed media. Hidden within this piece is a ton of paper, tiny scraps of white, black, yellow, several shades of green, a lot of blues, some reds and purples and wines. And on top of all that paper is acrylic paint. Not as much as you might think. All that's left to do is varnish once I'm certain it's thoroughly dry. Then it's off to Atlanta. Maybe I need to put in a Starbucks card just in case he hates the painting!