Years ago I went with my kids to Death Valley. We had fun lying in the middle of a deserted highway, and I sketched this road then. It's come up in a couple other paintings, one of those symbols that always has a tug.
My kids have taken off down that highway now. Tonight the first comes back, tomorrow the second. I'm waiting and watching.
This is one of those paintings I started in Redwood Park and added the figure when I got home. It was taken to the Palestinian Territories last month as a gift. I hope it adds some peace to someone's day.
There's a little cabin at Mount Hermon that I'm always drawn to. We must've stayed there when I was small. I sketched it again last summer, and it turned into this painting a month ago. Then the challenge is, what are the people doing? Something thoughtful and quiet...
It's just one of those things you have to do, get over to New York now and then.
Sep 13, 2012
There's a new little book called Steal Like an Artist. The author, Austin Kleon kind of states the obvious, but it's nice to have permission, especially when you're stealing from a friend. The flying sculptures on the left are by Laura Van Duren. I was painting at her studio one day, and look what happened!
I call this painting "Another Miracle." I don't know if it's about motherhood or leaving home or just doing the impossible in this place and time. But I have done a lot of mothering and saying good-bye lately. It's hard to believe that I was hiking at Briones Park just 8 days ago with Noah and Sophie and Ed. I wonder how being an empty-nester will influence my paintings....
Many changes happening here. My daughter just graduated from high school, my son is home for the summer, galleries are calling,and the beach is calling...
My kids are so big now, 17 and 20. I still see them this way in my mind, skinny and scruffy, and I'm surprised when they get off the airplane or commuter train and all so grown up.
There's a Swedish folk tale called Princess Cottongrass. The little princess has wild wispy blonde hair like a common wild flower that grows in the far north. She falls in love with a moose and loses a heart on a gold chain, and she spends so much time looking into the water at the gold heart that she turns into the wildflower. You know, a standard Swedish folktale...
Every artist needs a friend with a truck, especially if paintings are 12 feet long. These two pieces have been up at my church for awhile. They started as ideas doodles on a church bulletin, were painted in my garage, and are now there again. If you have space for one or both, let me know.
Thanks again, Eric, for your truck...
Some paintings are like my kids--I linger at the door and watch them walk out of sight. This painting is like that. A part of me is hanging at the Studio Shop in Burlingame, Ca.