Promenade sur la Rue Claude Monet

Well life has taken an interesting turn for me this past month. My lack of posting would suggest that I have been away from the studio, but that is not the case. In fact, I feel as if I have become a permanent studio fixture, getting up at 5 a.m. and painting whenever I can find the hours before and after the hubby goes to work and my daughter goes to sleep. "But where are the paintings, then?", you may ask. Well, the work I'm referring to is more commercial in nature. I can perhaps post more on that in time, but not at the moment. Suffice it to say, that up to now,  I haven't had much time for my own "personal" work this year.

Nevertheless, things are normalizing (for now), and I have been able to return to my easel to finish a painting I started some time around New Year's Day.

"Promenade sur la Rue Claude Monet" Oil on linen, 11x14" To purchase, please contact me!

Hollyhocks always make me think of France. I have tried growing them in my own garden but they always seem to get overtaken by rust. Maybe my garden is altogether too crowded or too moist, because in many parts of France they always seem to be growing out of what looks to me to be dry rock! This is a street in Giverny that leads to Claude Monet's famous home and gardens. The street is aptly named Rue Claude Monet, and is itself the subject for many potential paintings. I will add updated info about this painting to my website later today, but for now, please contact me with any inquiries.

Sogno Rosso

We have been back from Thanksgiving travels for a week now, and we all received an awesome airline door prize in the form of the virus-of-the-day.  It's on the way out now, but I guess I should not be surprised to have contracted something, travelling with a toddler (who, especially since she has been in preschool has become the human petri dish!) Well, I guess as they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Any way, I am back to painting now, and I have really missed my studio time.  As I mentioned before, I am sticking to some smaller paintings for a while. The holiday schedule seems to just get fuller and crazier with each passing year. So, for sanity's sake, I think I am finally learning to just be kind to myself at the outset and not even attempt anything overly ambitious during this time.

So December is officially small painting month for me! And here, to prove my point, is a 12x16" painting of the Val d'Orcia, in Tuscany:

The compositional sketch:

: First lay in... Final...

"Sogno Rosso" Oil on Canvas, 12"x16" Click here for purchasing info or just contact me !

The Tuscan landscape just seems to roll on forever. It is a painter's dream. That idea is the inspiration for the title. "Sogno" (= dream), and "Rosso" (= the red field of poppies). I am painting from photos, memory, and imagination. The photos are the touchstone, but through memory I hope to convey my feelings for this place, which, from the very first time I laid eyes on it, has pulled at my heartstrings.

I rarely paint anything exactly as it is, (whether painting from photographs or life) so that's where the "imagination" comes in. I compose, rearrange, and edit until I acheive a composition and a statement that is pleasing to me. I want to stay true to the place, but really, it's just a moment in time, and an impression of the natural world that I'm after.

Though I am temporarily committed to keeping my painting sizes small, I think this composition cries out to be reincarnated as a larger piece at some future point. What do you think?

Balbianello Gardens (W.I.P complete)

Well, it just hasn't been my couple of weeks. Between family sickness, election day, and bracing for hurricane Sandy (which thankfully turned out to be the hurricane that wasn't for us in Richmond) my daughter missed some preschool, which meant no painting or blogging for me. Finally I am back to it, though, and happily share the completion of the Lake Como painting I blogged about in my last post:

"View From Balbianello Gardens" Oil on linen, 16x20"

This painting places the viewer at the edge of the gardens of the famous Villa Balbianello. A procession of Baroque statuary lines the garden's perimeter and looks out across blue waters to the distant harbor of a neighboring village. When I returned to the easel today,  I decided something was needed in the middle distance to anchor the right side of the painting and create some balance. And so a sailboat was born.

I like this addition very much. It creates some interest for the water and pushes the distant village and mountains back through the use of overlapping form. I also felt like the line of statues led the eye to that spot, and the fact that there was nothing there troubled me. It's funny how one little thing like that can bring a painting to a satisfying resolution.

Balbianello Gardens w.i.p

After the time requirements of my last painting, I thought I would reward myself this week with some smaller pieces for a while. Halloween came early to our house in the form of a nasty virus that has rendered us all coughing, sneezing zombies (the littlest of which apparently doesn't sleep much at night with a cold). Needless to say,  I am really dragging this week. Nevertheless, I've managed a little studio time, and here is my painting in progress ( a 16x20" canvas)  of the beautiful gardens of Villa Balbianello.

I did a painting of the villa itself a while ago, (which you can see here) but this view is from the edge of its magnificent gardens, looking beyond the statuary towards the distant village across the lake .

This is one session worth of work (about 3 hours). I will probably need another session of a couple of hours to finish. The punkin' seems to be dropping her naps more and more these days (say it ain't so!) but if I can squeeze another nap out of her today, I might actually be able to complete it.

Still no  plein air painting this fall, though we are fast approaching the height of color here in Richmond. :( I could give myself lots of excuses for this, but bottom line is,  I  guess I haven't been able to get myself organized enough to have enough time for field work . Mornings are so chaotic, and  I'd really need to be out of the door  when it's still dark outside, and have my location planned out in advance, in order to be back at my daughter's preschool for pick-up  at noon. It's frustrating, but  I'll tell you one thing... I have never been happier to have my studio right in the back yard instead of halfway across town like it used to be!

Copyright and wrong

Well for the past week we  have all been sick at our house dealing with our first round of the preschool yucks, but hopefully I will have some progress shots to share of a new painting later on in the week. Meanwhile, I thought I'd share some thoughts on the matter of copyright. It's been brought to my attention that someone has been trying to sell homemade prints of one of my original paintings on eBay.  Obviously I did not find that OK. Just because artwork is on the Internet does not mean it is a free-for-all. Even a very ignorant person would have to take pause, I'd think, and know on some level that what they were doing was wrong.

I have been criticized in the past for posting a watermark on each complete painting I put up on the web. Some say it obscures their viewing pleasure when looking at the piece. I do understand this, but what with Google Images, Pinterest, eBay, Flickr, and many many personal blogs, an artwork can quickly end up far away home.

I post my watermark so that should the image show up on another site without my knowledge or permission, I would at least have my copyright symbol visible and there would be  no question about ownership. That watermark is what prompted another very thoughtful artist to tip me off about the bogus auction.

The starting bid was very low, and there were no bids when the fraudulent posting was taken down. In light of that, some might say that this incursion seems just a minor offense, so why all the huff about it? Well, first of all, it's just plain wrong. Apparently I am not the only artist this person is stealing from either. Secondly, this is far from my first time having to deal with this kind of thing as an artist,  and it all gets kind of wearying after a while.

Thankfully, eBay's legal department (VeRO) did take the listing down, but the person is still in operation, even though I understand that other artists have had their work similarly counterfeitted  (and I'm pretty sure they reported it). That is really disappointing.

It's not ok to use other people's intellectual property and make copies of it without the property owner's permission, whether for profit or not. It is not ok to take credit in any way for another's work. ( Duh!?) Really, unless a work is in the public domain or under a creative commons license, it's not ok to use a copyrighted image to even decorate your blog without permission or in the very least, a name credit and reciprocal link, though people do it all the time.

Imitation is one thing. We all as artists have studied other work, and even "tried on" other people's styles, techniques, palettes, and methods. That is all classified under the category of learning and is a legitimate way to grow and develop our own work. There is a certain beauty in the dialogue that occurs as one artist's work is influenced by another's.  That's why I myself have a huge collection of art books, and why I like to post demos and other goodies about materials and techniques. After all, we don't create in a vacuum.

Certainly there are a lot of gray areas, and I don't claim to be an expert on copyright laws. But as a working artist, I guess my main point is, when in doubt, ask permission. Many artists love to have their work featured on other websites and other venues, Internet or otherwise. I count myself among them. But I still want to be asked, and I still want the option to decline if I don't feel it's the right fit for me or my work.  It's just the right thing to do.

The artist/parent conundrum

Well, it's finally happened. This week we sent our baby off to preschool. Right now it's only two half days a week, but still it has been a week of mixed emotions. It's hard to send her out into the world without me nearby, but on the other hand, I can enter my studio for a few precious, blissful hours without interruption. Ahhh! Once we get into a groove, (and get past the tears that come with each parting) we should be able to arrange a schedule where Dad takes her to school on his way to work, while Mom starts painting and doesn't have to stop for 4 or 5 hours. Heck, I may even be able to take my easel outdoors this fall and actually do some plein air painting! It feels like its been a long road to get to this point, both in terms of health and time to work. And yet, I look at my daughter and marvel at how quickly she has grown. She's only two, but she's definitely not a baby any more.

In my next post I will share with you a new painting I've gotten under way during this momentous week. But before I get back to the "art" part of my art blog, I just want to put a shout out to all of those artist moms and dads out there who may struggle to find a balance between being a dedicated primary caregiver to a child and being a creative artist dedicated to their craft.

First of all, hats off to you! It is a tough balancing act. If I had any advice to give to anyone who is struggling to find the time and energy to do creative work while also being the primary caregiver to a child, it would be this: Lower your expectations and don't give up.

Now that may not sound very inspirational, but hear me out. After I had my daughter, I fully expected to get back to my painting in full swing after about 6 months or so. But when my health took a nose dive, it was all I could do most days to parent my daughter and give her some Q.T., and get hot meals on the table (after which point I promptly collapsed in a heap). And on top of feeling really physically awful most days over the past 2 years, I made myself feel worse by being horribly disappointed in my inability to develop a routine of steady work. (What was wrong with me? I "should" be able to do this! ) Had I been gentler and adjusted my expectations to allow for my situation, I would have saved myself a lot of frustration and emotional angst, and perhaps even possibly hastened my recovery. (Not to mention that feeling rotten about yourself isn't exactly an environment for creative bursts of energy, either).

On the second point, don't give up; sooner or later you will find a groove with yourself and your family. It may be a groove that will need constant tweaking, but some sense of rythm WILL happen. It may not happen as quickly as you want, but one day you will blink and your once tiny, helpless infant will be playing quietly by herself here and there (in between running around tearing the house down ;-) ). Gasps for air will give way to moments of breathing space and then at some point actual stretches of uninterrupted time.

Thankfully I seem to be finding my way out of the worst of the health issues now and am actually sleeping again and feeling a lot better. But nothing is like it was b.b. (before baby). I don't have the flexibilty of time and freedom that I used to have. Now I am the one who has to be flexible, and I have to manufacture stretches of time by getting up extra early to make it happen. Any blogs I do write are usually done via my mobile, written piecemeal in short bursts. But with the right attitude and a little bit of creative scheduling, it is happening, and for that I am extremely grateful!

When my daughter was an infant, I would again and again be told this same phrase by veteran parents: "It goes by fast." And it does. When you are in the trenches dealing with colic and diapers and nursing and zero sleep and no time to shower, you might not think so. But it really does. So enjoy the moments with your child and appreciate the moments you can find to feed the Art Spirit. Nurture both as best you can and you may find them growing stronger and more vibrant with each passing day.

 

"Happy Faces", by 2 year old Eva

Montalcino Valley (w.i.p. final)

Well I think I am about ready to call this one finished. This painting was a real joy to work on. I loved painting the rolling hills, the atmospheric perspective and the various patchwork of patterns woven together to make up the beautiful countryside that is Tuscany.

"Montalcino Valley" Oil on linen, 24x30"

This painting is of the valley of Montalcino, a small town set in the heart of Tuscany. My vantage is the top of the hill in a vineyard, which I have painted before, a few years ago:

"Piccolomini Vineyard" (SOLD)

 This current painting, however, omits the foreground vineyard entirely and focuses on the valley. We toured and tasted at this vineyard as well, (Ciacci Piccolomini) and sampled the famous Brunello and Rosso wines of this region.

Well, back to reality....The new schedule is working well. Of course I wish I just had one more hour in the day to myself, but I really can't force myself to get up earlier than 5 a.m., so this will do for now. By the time I get moving, dressed and breakfasted, it gives me between two to two and a half hours to paint before the hubby  goes off to work. That's nothing to sneeze at but I have to be pretty focused to make the most of my time.

But I am learning something about process with these constraints. I am trying to get my whole canvas up to the same level of finish in one session--especially at the start--so that when I return to the easel I don't have to spend so much time figuring out where I was and where I'm going next. I also have to paint in thinner layers and build  more slowly, making sure I don't go too thick too soon, so that I can make needed changes on the way.   So while it's less wet-into-wet, I am trying to appreciate the opportunity I have with a painting that has had a bit of time to  set up. This allows me the time to scumble and dry brush here and there, as long as the paint passage isn't already too thick. I'm still learning how I might take advantage of the time I have and how to make the process work even better for me within those constraints, but I feel (at least today) that I am moving in the right direction.

Progress

The Tuscany painting I've been working on of late is almost finished. I had hoped to wrap things up on it before last Friday, when I was scheduled for a minor surgery. Who knew the recovery would feel so major? Any way, I'll be back at it on Monday. In the meantime, here are a couple of progress shots:

The little artist

Still working on the Tuscany landscape, and I have more to report on that shortly. Meanwhile, I thought I'd share another project I've been working on. I've annexed a part of my studio to make a mini studio for my Munchkin (now already 2 years old!) Here's a shot of her creative space:

And here is the artist at work:

Of course I have no illusions that I will be able to do much work of my own right now while she's in there, (she finishes her "masterpieces" at a much faster clip!) but it is fun to invite her into my world.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken

Have you ever had a project that illicted a phrase something like, "I can't wait till this  @!% thing is over!" ? Well, that was my thought every time I showed up at the easel over these past few weeks (WEEKS!) to work on the Venice painting I posted about eons ago in my last blog. Awesome way to inspire creativity, eh? For some reason though, I couldn't let it go. I don't quite know why. It was like slowing down to look at an accident when you really didn't want to . Okay, that's a bit melodramatic.  Maybe more like continuing to watch a bad movie because you'd already invested so much time in it. Makes no sense, but  I guess I kept hoping that by overworking an already bad painting I would somehow be vindicated in the end.

Well, as you can imagine, it did not, in fact, end well. The painting was, I felt, dreadfully bad. And to add insult to injury, I had just spent multiple sessions of my precious new painting schedule (more about that in a minute) completely devoted to trying to fix  a mess that I should have trashed after the 2nd session. It was pretty demoralizing and I still don't know why I put myself through it. The only thing I can come up with is that I am incredibly stubborn. And I think when I am tired or stressed, I must be moreso (ask the husband). I think I was out to prove that I could, at long last, finish SOMEthing (the effect of which took me about as far away from creative joy as I care to go.)

So no, I will not be sharing that painting here. It went promptly from the easel  into the trash and I wasn't about to photograph the ghastly thing. But something good has come from it, I think. It taught me more about surrender (a hard lesson I thought I'd "gotten" given the personal challenges of the past couple of years) and it revealed pretty much every one of my artistic weaknesses in a single painting, (now that's an accomplishment! ;) ) so it gave me a very clear picture of what kinds of things I need to seriously work on.

It also made me feel incredibly free, relieved, and happy to be staring at a blank canvas again. And this painting, I will share...as it is it so far after about 2 sessions:

Regarding my new schedule, due to my need for sustained energy to care for a very active toddler at home, I have determined that mornings are by far my best time of day (by nightfall I am pretty much toast). So I have arranged to get up before the rooster crows, and get out in the studio for 2 hours before the husband leaves for work at 8:30 (whereupon I toss off the artist apron, superhero-style, and assume the role of full-on mommy!)

At present, I can only do this 3 days a week due to schedules, etc., but it gives me 6 hours of dedicated painting time, plus maybe a few more (if I play my cards right) on the weekend. Other than the fact that it is very hard  sometimes to be getting up so early, it so far it seems to be working okay. It's nothing like the vast swaths of luxurious time I had before my daughter, but there is a structure in place now, to in the very least, start developing some positive new artistic habits again. Hopefully with regular work habits  it will also mean I can get back to blogging regularly too! But first things first...

From study to studio (work in progress)

I feel like it has been ages since I have painted en plein air. Perhaps I feel this way because it is true! But while time, obligation, and health have kept my plein air painting at bay lately, I still think about it very much (not without a lot of longing) and I find myself digging out what plein air pieces I still have and meditating on them. It seems to me that even the weakest studies contain valuable information. Studio works have their place and purpose, and (the good ones) posess a grandeur that is harder to acheive en plein air. But there is a quality about the plein air paintings that continues to distinguish them in my heart and mind as something very special. As incomplete and insufficient as some of them are, they are infused with life and an immediacy that I still find hard to match in the studio. Still, given my life situation at the moment, I shall have to try.

One day recently when I was feeling particularly "homesick" for plein air painting, I came across this little piece that I painted during my trip to the Dordogne. It was tucked away in a stack of unfinished studies that I have not looked at in a long time:

 

I put it away mainly because I ran out of time to finish it on site, and I really haven't thought much about it since. It doesn't have the wildflowers that were in the field, the middle distance is unresolved, and it is lacking contrast in the row of nearby trees, as well as some other detail. But what it does have is some really good information about the light, as well as a nice loose, light touch that reflects the breeziness of that morning in early summer. And as I looked at it with new eyes, I started to think about new possibilities, and how I might translate the information in this scene to a larger studio canvas.

The location was near a public park just on the outskirts of a little village in France called St. Germain de Bel Air. There were these enormously tall trees that I believe were poplars. They always remind me of Monet because he painted a series of these trees in the countryside near Giverny. I was attracted to the scene not only because of the trees, but because of the way they lined the simple country path that led to the village, and the shadows they cast in great diagonals across the picture plane.

We will see how it goes, but here is my (very) preliminary layout on a 24x30" canvas.

Season's Greetings

It's hard to believe that in just a few days' time, Christmas will be upon us, and we will shortly after ring in a new year. I need only look at the cherubic face of my daughter,  a near-18 month old very active toddler,  to find truth in the saying "time flies". Her progress has been great and swift. I can't say the same for my painting or my blog this year, but that is life. I have (thankfully) been busy with some commissioned work this fall and winter, so the studio isn't completely covered in cobwebs. But time has been tight and consequently the blogging has suffered (as it is plain to see). So to the readers who are still with me, I feel like I should offer my apologies.

I can sometimes feel a little sad when I reflect on it, because up until the last year or two I had devoted quite a bit of time to this blog, trying to find things thoughtful or useful or interesting to post that could actually help or inspire someone else. There have been times this year when I stumble upon old blog posts and marvel at their length and how indepth some of them were. I find myself thinking, "Geez, I had a lot of time." Time, now, is an elusive stranger, and I have struggled these last twelve months or so to wrangle it, without, I'm afraid, much success.

The truth of the matter is, that along with motherhood (which, while incredibly rich and rewarding,  still feels very much like a new shoe in need of breaking in) I am also dealing with some health issues. While not immenently  life-threatening, they are nonetheless, significant enough and  have really thrown a wrench in my ability to wear multiple hats. So when push comes to shove and I only have a finite amount of energy to devote to either art or motherhood, motherhood wins hands-down (and rightfully so).

I have to admit, I am not really a heart-on-the-sleeve kind of person and I don't go much for "diary-entry" type posts on my blog. It's supposed to be an art blog, after all, right? I also learned in my "professional artist" training that if you want to be successful, you must present yourself that way. So with that intention, my plan has always been to keep things mostly on a professional level here. But as John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens to you while  you are busy making other plans."  And I just felt that it is better to tell it like it is rather than to have you just think I have neglected blogging because I just lost interest or something.

I feel certain that I'll find a way to overcome the health issues and, in time, get my energy level back. I feel just as certain that I will return to the easel and the blog on a more regular basis, as I am still carrying a very big torch for painting.

In the meantime, I am enjoying being Santa to the  smart, funny, amazing little cherub running around my house inspiring me to be a better person, (and to get to feeling better so that I can chase her around and maybe even catch her once in a while!) And, in addition to my little girl and my wonderful husband, I have another forever-kind-of-love in painting, that is ready for me when I am. My wish to everyone reading this is that your life is equally as rich and full.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy 2012 to all!

Monet's Garden Painting W.I.P.

While it may appear that my poor blog is suffering from benign neglect, I actually have been working on it, albeit on the back end. Recently my blog has been attacked and completely overrun by comment spammers. Hopefully the issue hasn't  been too evident to readers, but it completely overtook my blog (and my email) for a while . After a few attempts at a "quick fix," I decided I really had to take the time to do a Wordpress upgrade. It's something I should have done a long time ago, but have been loathe to do because it involved a good deal of time that I dearly need in order to attempt any kind of painting these days.  Unfortunately, upgrading has caused me to lose my sitemap and all of my prior post tags, so I am very bummed that I have yet to spend more time trying to figure out what happened to them. Hopefully I can recover them, but otherwise I guess I am looking at manually creating new tags for each post that has been added to my site since the dawn of man. Arrrgh!

Well, thanks for letting me get that off my chest!  I actually do have a painting under way, of Monet's Garden. Still quite a bit of work yet to do on this 18x24" canvas, but at least I've mapped out the main elements:

When I have free time in the evenings (which lately isn't that often) I have been watching a fascinating series of educational videos on the Impressionists produced by the University of Texas at Austin. It's basically a lecture format, which at first, kind of made me feel like I was back in art history class. But after a while it did draw me in, and it is probably the most through and in-depth investigation on this incredible group of artists that I have seen on DVD. It is so inspiring to go back in time and visit with these incredibly innovative masters (Manet, Monet, Pisarro, Renoir, Degas, Morisot, etc.)

So this was the spark that made me want to revisit my photos of Monet's garden. It has been a while since I painted this subject matter. What an amazing place ! Hopefully I can finish this painting soon. However, if the weather cooperates and I can find a chance to paint outside, I may do like the Impressionists and forgo the studio to grab the opportunity. We will see....

The Dog Days of Summer

The "dog days" of summer, at least in my garden, are here. Every August to date, I peter out in my gardening prowess. Basically I tell my plants, "If you can survive 'til fall, more power to you. I'm done!" This summer, I'm afraid the "dog days" actually started much earlier....as in, early June! With a baby-turned-toddler, my poor plants have been in "survival of the fittest" mode for a while now. Where I used to be shuffling plants around all summer, pruning, weeding, and planting anew, I am now happy if I can water my pots between the baby's naps and my now very limited time in the studio.

Somehow, though, it all works out. At least, Baby E thinks so. She loves the garden, such as it is. She wanders around, and when she's not attempting to eat the sticks and mulch, she points to "dis" and "dat" and turns to me expectantly for an explanation of all flora and fauna.

Here she is sitting amongst the flowers in front of my studio earlier this month:

From her perspective, there are no "dog days", there are just days. No judgement, just wonder and enjoyment...and a total disinterest in discriminating the flowers from the weeds. All are equally delicious in her eyes (or, should I say, mouth?) Discrimination serves a worthy purpose for sure, but I can't help but think that I should be so lucky as to see my garden, and for that matter, my paintings (and for THAT matter, my life!) from Baby E's perspective every so often. I have a lot to learn from her.

Independence Day

It was hot and humid and overcast. Our baby had been sick part of the week prior and through the long weekend with a 102 degree fever and hand, foot and mouth virus. And to top it all off, we woke up on July 4th sticky and without power from a tremendous summer storm the night before. But believe it or not, I had a great morning, as I was allowed the privilege of escaping getting outside early to do this little plein air painting.

  "Pond Reflections" Oil on board, 12"x9" Click here for more info, or just contact me to purchase.

The location is Young's Pond in nearby Bryan Park. I've painted this location before a number of times, and this approximate scene once before, which you can see here. There were a number of nearby spots I could have chosen, but on an overcast day it's nice to paint a water effect, as then you have some luminosity built in, when the light is otherwise fairly flat.

I spent about 3 hours on site working on this piece, which was longer than I normally would do on location. But I think the combination of fairly steady light conditions, and my private glee at having the entire morning completely to myself kept me lingering longer than I would have otherwise.

Here's a shot of my setup right before I started.

Next time I would like to get out even earlier than I did, to try and capture that wonderful atmosphere (aka humidity) before it settles into just plain old hot heavy air. But with a baby, you gotta do what you gotta do, and I was happy to get out at all. My setup has remained pretty consistent over the years, with my Soltek easel still being my go to plein air easel due to the ease of use and quick setup time.

The sun made its appearance often enough that shading myself, my painting, and my palette was a concern. I brought my umbrella with me, but it is a pain to set up and doesn't really work that great with the Soltek (one of the easel's down-sides...I've yet to find a really compatible umbrella that can attach to it without falling over.) So If I can get away without, I usually do. This often means avoiding standing in the blazing sun, even if it means forgoing a preferred view. Otherwise my painting ultimately suffers (not to mention my skin.)

In this photo I've set up my painting panel so that the sun (when it peeks out) is behind it, making it shaded. I am relatively shaded by tree branches overhead. Since I am right-handed, my subject is to my left, so that I am not having to reach across my painting when I look/paint. Often times I can shade my palette simply by wedging another panel between it and my painting. In this case I am using a flat wet panel carrier called the Art Cocoon.

This is actually a pretty neat concept for a wet panel carrier, which I read about some time ago on another artist's blog (when I still had time to read them) owned by Ed Terpening . The advantage is that you can use the carrier for different sized paintings with the provided inserts, and it is nice and lightweight and not bulky. But the down side for me is that it is made out of cardboard, which eventually warps (especially in our hot Virginia climate) and when that happens it stops protecting the painting effectively.

For that reason, my go-to wet panel carrier is still the RayMar. It's a little more expensive, and bulkier, but still lightweight. And its coroplast construction means that while it won't last forever, it lasts a good long time and doesn't warp.

Little things

My painting (and posting) has been so sporadic lately that there are times when I am tempted to just announce a summer hiatus once and for all. At least this way, (I say to myself) I can engage myself fully in mothering an already active baby (who is soon to be an even more active toddler) and I won't have this anxious, "torn between two worlds" feeling when I can't make it to the easel (or produce anything noteworthy when I do). But the hubby doesn't think this is a good idea, and doubts I'd be happy with not painting at all, if even for a couple of months. He's probably right, but that still leaves me with trying to figure out how to enjoy the time I have in these two seemingly opposing life roles, without the anxiety I sometimes have that I am not doing well enough at either one. So I was taking my baby out for a stroller ride not long ago, and ran into a neighbor, who is also a mother, and happens to be a very fine artist. We have exchanged pleasantries a few times, but this was our first actual introduction and chat. We spent a good deal of time talking about the ups and downs of being both a working artist and a mother . We talked about finding the time and the peace of mind to be fully engaged in both roles, and perhaps most importantly, to enjoy the process along the way. I asked her if she felt that her work had changed as a result of having had a child.

"Oh yes!" she replied, "For quite a while I had to paint a lot smaller. "

This may sound like a punchline, but in fact, it makes a lot of sense. Before the baby, I had become accustomed to painting small in the field and using my studio work to develop my ideas and studies into larger scale works. As a landscape painter, my feeling was, why paint small landscapes inside if I can paint the same small scale from life?

But at present, plein air opportunities have been few and far between, so often it is studio work or no work at all.  While I never really paint HUGE, I have struggled with my studio sessions, as they are both shorter in length and spread farther apart. Often enough I have found myself spending a good deal of a studio session just trying to get the painting opened up enough to start working on it again...just in time to clean up!

So, it makes sense, for the next little while, to try and work on a few small things. They may not all be landscapes, (and who knows? They may not all be oil paintings) but at least I will still be doing something.

So that is my commitment to you, dear reader. I will do something instead of nothing. And furthermore, I will post it here often enough so that you know I am still alive. How's that for an inspirational statement of purpose? Sorry, but this is the best I can do right now. ;-)

Even if it's just a little thing, it will hopefully keep the creative juices flowing, and perhaps make it easier to develop some skills that need brushing up, or to experiment with various designs, compositional choices and different color palettes. In the very least, I will get the satisfaction of having finished something!

"Evening Light, Tuscany" Oil on linen, 6x12" Click here for more info, or just contact me to purchase.

Top ten reasons to paint your back yard garden

1. You can paint it better than it actually looks (a few more roses here, a few less weeds there...)
2. Unlike a public garden, you likely won't get taken unawares by the sprinkler system.
3. You are intimately familiar with how the light travels through the garden at different times of the day.
4. You are intimately familiar with the location of the latrine (and more than likely it will be free and fairly clean.)
5. You can leave all of your gear set up during breaks (and probably won't need to get someone to watch your stuff as you break for the above mentioned latrine.)
6. You can do your part to reduce the carbon footprint (no need to drive anywhere.)
7. Forgetting to pack an important supply is easily remedied.
8. Plenty of opportunity to take weeding and pruning breaks (okay, this might not be such a good thing for your painting, but your garden will love it.)
9. You won't look like a crazy lady wandering through the park staring at trees, with luggage, a big floppy hat, and a compass. (You'll just look like a crazy neighbor wandering around her yard with luggage, a big floppy hat, and a compass.)
10. The reception to the wireless baby monitor extends just to the edge of your yard!

"Under the Limelight" Oil on board, 8x6" Contact me to purchase.

This little painting is kind of a cross between a still life and a plein air painting. The Japanese lantern sits at the corner of my garden under the limelight hydrangea (hence the title.) Since the hydrangea isn't yet in bloom, I've punched up the corner with some potted geraniums.

Rooftops, St. Cirq Lapopie (final)

I've been struggling with a killer cold or allergy or something for over a week now, so it's really thrown me for a loop in the studio. But I have now finished the French village painting I have been blogging about in my last couple of posts (here and here). I did not have a chance to take any more progression shots due to the amount of time I lost, so my apologies to those who were following the progression of the work-in-progress.

"Rooftops, St. Cirq Lapopie" Oil on Linen, 30x24"

There was a certain quality of light I was after in this painting...a slight haziness that comes on a warm day when the sun begins to filter through the clouds after a soft rain (the weather when I visited there could best be described as "changeable"!) So there are a soft edges and close values to tackle, especially in the middle and far distance.

St. Cirq Lapopie is a fortressed village dating back to the Middle Ages. Sitting high above the Lot River, it is, as I mentioned in my prior post, dripping with so much charm that it really does invoke fairy tales of knights and damsels in distress!Narrow cobbled streets wind their way through cliffsides, leading up to a fortressed peak that allows stunning views of the steep tiled rooftops and the Lot valley.

In the works- Rooftops, St. Cirq La Popie

Just thought I'd do a quick post of what is currently on my easel. It's a 24x30" painting of  a location I visited on my last trip to France; St. Cirq La Popie. St. Cirq La Popie is probably one of the most storybook-pretty villages in France that I have yet seen. I am actually hoping to do a little plein air painting today during baby E's naptimes, so this will be brief. Let's hope the nap gods are with me!

Tuscany vineyard W.I.P.

I spent some time late last week and Monday working on the painting I had sketched out in my last post. I will say before I begin, that these photos are not color corrected due to limited time, but hopefully you can still get an idea of how the painting is developing. Sketch in transparent oxide red, with some shading...

I usually lay in the sky first, but since there is so little of it in this painting, I have decided to start laying in the ground. More or less, I am working front to back.

At this point I had to step back and think about the plane trees I had sketched in on the upper right. As much as I love the plane trees, I was afraid they would be too busy in this painting, when there is already a lot going on. You might even be able to tell that I struggled with those trees from the outset, by all the transparent red oxide rubbed into that side of the canvas. I kept wiping them out and putting them back in, until finally I surrendered and took them out for good. Sometimes you just have to accept that you can't say everything you want to say in a single painting.

I still wanted something in the upper right for balance, so instead I massed in a "less interesting" tree. I also changed the skyline slightly so as not to feel so hemmed in. The sky is pretty washed out here but my sky, while very light and simple, has more color (pale golds and blues).

Up to the point pictured is about 5 or 6 hours' work. I started this late Friday afternoon and came back after dinner (and after the baby went to bed) to work on it some more. I just wanted to get it to a point where the whole canvas was brought up to the same level of "finish" (more or less) so that it would be easier for me to pick up again when I returned to the easel.

Once upon a time I was a total night owl and I'd habitually paint late into the night (this was before I started painting landscapes). I haven't done this in a really long time, and I'm not sure it's such a good thing for me. I only meant to work for a couple of hours but it was close to midnight by the time I cleaned up and I was so wound up I couldn't sleep for a while. Maybe I'll get used to it in time, but as it was, every time I'd go to clean up I'd tell myself, "just five more minutes!" Afterwards, I felt like I had had an entire pot of coffee! I kept telling myself it was time to stop, but now that I feel so often on a time crunch, any studio time is a real treat.