Monday in August

Monday in August, oil, 5 x 7"

Sold

Naomi Shihab Nye defines the word “contemplation” as a long, loving look.  Lately I have been hearing a lot about ideas calling upon creatives to bring them into being.   An idea might arrive all of a piece, as Naomi’s poem “Kindness” did for her, but most require contemplation.  Meditation. Seeing.  A long, loving look. 

Naomi's poem, "Kindness"

Kelly Drive at Dusk

Kelly Drive at Dusk, oil, 5 x 7"

sold

“We are magic talking to itself, noisy and alone.”  –Ann Sexton, For You, Doctor Martin

Grocery Store Flowers

"Grocery Store Flowers", 6 x 8, oil 

sold

“The conscious necessarily rejects the unconscious.” – Carl Jung

On this steamy summer afternoon I’m listening to Stewart Cubley talk about process painting on his podcast The Painting Experience.  He talks about the act of putting paint on the brush, touching it to the canvas, what that feels like, the zen of that.  The inner critic.  Focusing on the experience of creating the painting vs the outcome.  “Let things exist in their own way, without coming or going”.

Oyster Creek

"Oyster Creek", oil on board, 8 x 10"

Sold

“Painting is but another word for feeling” – John Constable. 

Winds rose over Great Bay, sailors warning, to form ominous clouds advancing a change in the weather.  While tucking into heaps of crabs, clams and oysters, diners watched the dramatic sky from the screened porch of the Oyster Creek Inn.  

Audrey Claire

Audrey Claire, 5 x 7, oil on Ampersand Gessobord

  "When inspiration does not come to me, I go halfway to meet it." - Sigmund Freud. 

 I’m pretty sure Freud means I should go out to dinner more often.  As if the great food in this little Rittenhouse Square restaurant isn’t enough of a lure, and it IS, I love the deep window sills adorned with huge bouquets of flowers.  

Sketchbook

My best model is always willing to sit in the surf for me as long as his cell phone is handy.  I think that seagull wants to make a call.  

Framed against towering cumulonimbus clouds over the ocean, an Ocean City Parasail floats high above the wake of its speed boat. It's been a long time since I've gone up but I will never forget the joy of peering down upon a large school of skates gliding gracefully through ocean waters far below.