By the time you read this, the fall will have arrived. Fall — autumn — my absolute favorite season . . . the colors! Albert Camus described it as “a second spring when every leaf's a flower. ” And for the respite it is from me pretending I know what I am doing in...
An Outline of a Painting Doug discovered a line drawing of a cat waiting to pounce on mouse who lurked behind him . . . or her. Two grandkids made suggestions for adding details. Then, I channeled my inner Matisse, adding adventuresome goldfish, and added a falling...
August, The Month August! Here we are already. How is the garden growing and the the painting going? And what are my August ambitions? The change always comes about mid-August, and it always catches me by surprise. I mean the day when I know that summer is fraying at...
Primary Colors Calling! Some days the primary colors just keep calling. Use me! Use Me! Especially in the interesting times that are today. So too, does the simple shapes in former paintings keep inspiring -- It's why I keep repeating myself. Colors Chalk it up to...
It’s the Middle of June already. This has been one of the slowest starts I’ve ever had to get stuff planted. It isn’t the slowest — there have been spring growing seasons I did zip, zero, nada. In a burst of energy last week, I traveled to a local nursery and took...
A Weather Bank I wish we had a weather bank in which I could deposit the all the lovely hours May has generated. When Maryland’s summer arrives, I could withdraw enough cool dry air to keep my charm from depleting. On our evening walks I smell honeysuckle and...
Creative Output So Far Assessing this spring’s output compared to my [creative] output this time three years ago, I am lagging. Maybe because this spring I have a wee bit more of a life — Two and half years of uncertain times seem to be in the rear view...
Color my Wits . . . Craz’d If I were painting, my palette would be messy. Grief is a hard subject. But, I am writing. Finding words is harder when one’s wits are knotted by the times, and tears. Other people’s words describe the swirl of emotions that are washing...
A Guide and Goad Other people’s words guided me this week — and goaded me to keep looking for my own. Maybe what I read will refresh you, as March departs like a soggy lion. Well-trained Christians make it a habit each night to look over the past day and see where...
Painting Painting pink tulips in February has been a good use of time. Listening to a biography of Charles Dickens while I paint has also been a good use of time, especially for one who read more Cliffs Notes than Dickens’ originals. Dickens was like the nineteenth...
Here’s a seed — I hope you will enjoy what blossoms on these pages — a taste of some paintings I did, beginning in Dallas and through the here and now. When I first began painting ay Pigment School of the Arts. I felt . . . OH so rusty, incompetent, dull, OLD and...
Over forty-five years ago, I joined a water class that a new friend, Joanne Scott, offered at her studio on Mill Creek, outside of Annapolis, Maryland. For several years, until she moved her classes to Maryland Hall, Joanne welcomed a small group of newbies and...
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