Out of hibernation

This week I'm getting back to the studio, after a hiatus of two months. It's just been determined that this is officially Boston's snowiest winter on record, and my recent lifestyle has been a reflection of the season! Between bi-weekly bouts of helping my husband to shovel out our driveway, I've spent a lot of time curled up under the covers, reading and reading! (For the record, I've polished off "Our Mutual Friend" and "David Copperfield" by Charles Dickens, and "Jude the Obscure" by Thomas Hardy.)

But just because I haven't touched brush to canvas for a while, that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about painting! I have page after page of sketches and ideas for how to proceed at the easel.

A few days ago, I got to my annual session of super-cleaning and organizing my studio (a tradition that usually happens every January), and now I'm ready to get going. Last night I stretched a canvas and made some tracings, and tonight I applied the first layer to the first canvas in a series. Here's the first stage:

This series will be closeups of paintings from a 2013 grouping called "Markings" (see "Scrawl 2," the initial inspiration, below). I am figuring that by focusing tightly on the basic calligraphy of those earlier pieces, the emphasis will be on the simple beauty of the lines and the intriguing (hopefully) way in which they cut through the square canvas. I will string a group of them together so that the squares build into a long row. By using only flat black on white, I'm hoping the marks will seem to float like dramatic, abstract almost-words across the gallery wall. We'll see how this direction develops. Meanwhile, it feels good to get back to painting!

"Scrawl 2," acrylic on canvas, 30" square, 2013

Autumn studio visit

What every artist dreams of: a quiet, secluded studio; a commitment-free day to work; and a series in progress that's going well, ready to jump into. I feel privileged to say, that is the situation I'm looking at today.

I especially enjoy my studio at this time of year, when the weather is temperate enough to open the door to the outside, and the serene back yard takes on the autumn colors of the season's peak. Here are some views out the door, and a look at the "bubble drawings" I'm currently working on.

Time to put on some soothing music and apply pencil to paper!
 

Let the sun shine in!

Look at those colors!

Series in progress

More of what made 2013 a great one!

As the sun rose on the first day of the New Year, I thought, "Why should 2014 be any different from 2013? Let's get painting!" So I headed directly to the studio and created the first layer of a new collage piece, shown here. Looking forward to a productive winter ahead!

ETA: Here is the resulting painting (not a great shot, but you get the idea):

Final weeks of summer

Hard to believe that summer is winding down! Last I remember, May was rolling into June and the hot summer sun was just beginning to shine.

Part of the reason for the seeming speed of this summer for me is that ALL 7 of the classes I offered have run! It's kept me humming, that's for sure. In addition, my 13-year-old car died suddenly in early July, and even though I knew exactly what I wanted to replace it with (a new version of the same thing), it took much time and effort to price cars, test drive, and ultimately close the sale. (Online price quotes are THE way to go, folks. You have so much more control over the negotiation process than when you're standing in the showroom.)

Last week wrapped up one of my professional development classes, offered at the Danforth Museum School in Framingham, MA, for public school art teachers. The course, titled "Inspired by Women Artists," focused on the artwork of 4 female artists: Kathe Kollwitz, Miriam Schapiro, Alma Thomas, and Kara Walker. We studied their biographies, practiced their techniques, and created works inspired by their styles, in a variety of media from acrylic paint to charcoal drawing to fabric collage to silhouettes cut from black paper. The students seem to have been indeed inspired, and now have many new ideas and projects to take back to their art classrooms in the fall.

I hung a group of their paintings (inspired by Alma Thomas) in the school hallway:

Student artworks from my "Inspired by Women Artists" class

I did have a moment's break to take an art-related road trip last weekend, when my old and dear friend John Borowicz opened his solo show at the Dedee Shattuck Gallery in Westport, MA. It was wonderful to have the chance to see what John as been up to lately, plus the exhibit included a selection of past works from over the years to give those who don't know him as well a chance to see how he's arrived at this point.

It was such a pleasure to chat with John and his family (hi, Wen!), and to reconnect with so many good people from the Southcoast Massachusetts area that I haven't seen in a while. There is a warm and welcoming art community there, one that I've very much missed being a part of since we moved to the Metrowest area 10 years ago.

With John Borowicz in front of "Gabrielle d'Estrees and One of Her Sisters," 2013, oil on canvas, 60" square

Some fun things on the horizon for fall: a three-person show at the Mazmanian Gallery at Framingham State University, a curatorial proposal for a four-person show that I have high hopes for, and as usual, lots of hours of teaching. There's no evidence yet of an autumn nip in the air, but it will be here before we know it.

A time for thanksgiving

The Thanksgiving season is the perfect time to examine our lives and give thanks for all the gifts we have had the good fortune to receive. This is why I think it's important to wait, at least until the sun goes down on Thanksgiving Day, to start "decking the halls" and diving in to the celebratory hoopla of the winter holiday season.

In taking quiet time for reflection and appreciation, we accept our humanity, acknowledge our humility, and encourage the blessings to continue to flow. Plus, it's just plain fun to feel the smile come over your face, and sense the warmth in your heart, that comes from recalling and reliving pleasant memories.

Last night I decided to make a list of the highlights of my art career. As I was compiling this list, I realized how many people have given to me generously during the 14 years I have been a professional artist. Their generosity is what has brought about all of the experiences on my list. (Out of respect for everyone's privacy, I haven't mentioned names here, but these folks know who they are, and I hope they know how grateful I am.)

These highlights include:

Three of my monotypes were purchased by the Boston Public Library in 2011. I am very grateful to the artist who was kind enough to give me the contact information for the curator there, and allow me to use her name as a personal reference when I contacted the curator.

Ten of my paintings were purchased by Berkshire Partners in the John Hancock Building, and ten paintings were purchased by the Four Seasons Hotel in Boston. I am very grateful to the artist who recommended me to the consultant who made these sales. I am also very grateful to the consultant herself, who has encouraged my work and made so many sales for me over the last five years that we've worked together.

Twice my artwork has been exhibited at U.S. Embassies - namely, those in Oman and Cameroon - through the Art In Embassies Program. I am very grateful to the friend who brought this program to my attention and recommended that I apply.

I am very grateful to the Boston gallerist who showed my work in two solo shows and two three-person shows at her gallery, and who recommended me for the St. Botolph Club Foundation grant, which I was awarded in 2002.

I am very grateful to the independent curators who have invited me to participate in their exhibits.

I am very grateful to the art critic who reviewed my work for the Boston Globe on four separate occasions.

I am very grateful for my many artist friends who have shared with me the good times and the tough times that we all experience in this crazy creative career. From artist friends whom I see on a regular basis, to those I've known since we were together in art school and first starting out, to artists I've only "met" on Facebook but whose commentary and support I enjoy and appreciate -- I have many good folks in my life.

And of course, my entire career wouldn't have been possible without the support of my beloved husband and parents.

This list reveals that I have a LOT of great experiences in my career, and they all happened because of the great people in my life. Here's to many more years, of many more highlights!

End-of-year reflections

This is the time of year when we look back on the past 365 days. If you have the time and inclination, you carefully analyze what worked and what didn’t, and make your plans for the upcoming year accordingly. If you’re a super-busy person, you simply try to figure out what the heck just happened.

I had many career successes in 2009. I sold 13 paintings, and I participated in 4 group shows: 2 were in college galleries; 1 was alongside such talents as Michael Mazur and Piek Larsen; and the fourth, which included such luminaries as Agnes Martin and Richard Serra, was reviewed in a Boston Globe article that included a mention of my work. I am thankful for having had so many opportunities.

I taught my heart out this year: 3 college classes, 3 workshops, 4 teen classes, 3 professional development classes, 6 adult education classes, and private lessons. I consider it a privilege to be a teacher, and to have the opportunity to help my students to develop their technique (beginners) or to find their own voices (graduate students). After all these years of teaching, I still feel honored to look up and see my students working contentedly at their easels.

Four of my reviews were published in the New Bedford Standard-Times during 2009. I have had to let my writing career slide lately, because I’ve simply been too busy to devote the time. But I adore writing about art. I believe it is a chance to honor the artists I write about, give them much-deserved attention and excite my readers about their work, as I am excited.

But what I am most proud of about 2009 is what I did in my studio, my Heaven on Earth. The things I learned, visually and technically, and the inner vibrations that I expressed through my painting … these are things I can’t articulate verbally. While the tangible results of the time I put in appear on my website, the finished paintings can’t quite convey the joy I feel inside at having created them. There aren’t words to express the realization that you wanted to say something, and you picked up a brush, and you managed to say it. It’s a true blessing to have this opportunity.

However you choose to look back on 2009, with a fleeting glance or with careful consideration, I wish you a wonderful and very happy 2010!

Happy Holidays!

Still painting a bit here and there, but Christmas activities are filling much of my time this week. Petey has been helping us with our decorations, as you can see.

Happy Holidays to you, and a splendid New Year!

Happy Father's Day!

Meant to post this yesterday for Father's Day.

It was taken just after my Christening. Obviously a big day, and I was ready for a nap after all the excitement!

My Dad was 33 at the time; I was 4 months old. Happy Father's Day, Daddy! (He is a faithful reader of my blog.)

Happy Birthday, Grandma

Today was my grandmother's birthday. Dorothy Marsh Parrott died in 1995 at the age of 88.

This photo shows her when she was in her 20s, about to embark on an ocean liner voyage to Sweden. (The picture was taken by my grandfather, who saw her off at the dock in Boston. He had plans to propose the minute she got home.)

The photo below is how I will always remember her. I have missed her every day since she died, but I know she is with me still.

Thank you, Mr. Handel

My dear friend Wendy and I saw/heard the Handel and Haydn Society perform Handel's "Messiah" at Symphony Hall in Boston yesterday. This is an annual tradition that we've enjoyed for the past five years, and we intend to continue it until we're old ladies in our 90s. It's a sublime experience for both of us, like hearing the angels sing.

Confession: When I was little and I heard "All We Like Sheep," I used to think they meant "we like sheep" as in "we think sheep are cool." Being an animal lover myself, I was happy to think that someone else liked sheep too. I was disappointed when I got older and realized what the words really meant.

Deck the halls

This weekend we got started on our Christmas decorating, with some help from Petey.

Turkey Day

We had a visit from these friendly turkeys (documented by my husband, Kevin) the other day. Our backyard is one of their favorite spots to get together and have a little chat over a bite to eat.

Wishing you and those you love a very happy and peaceful Thanksgiving Day!

Birthday flowers

Yesterday was my Mom's birthday, which we celebrated with a party at my house. Early in the morning, I headed over to the field next door and cut a fat handful of black-eyed Susans growing in the wild. I thought this "arrangement" was far more natural and attractive than anything I could have bought at a florist.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

A special birthday

My little brother (and only sibling) Scott turns 39 today!

But even though he is now taller than me and sports a full beard, the picture above is how I will always think of him. He’s 7 years younger than I am, so he was definitely a “kid” brother when we were growing up. But I enjoyed reading to him at bedtime, and teaching him colors and numbers.

Scott was about 2 (not much older than he is in this picture) when my parents realized something wasn’t right with his development. He wasn’t speaking properly and seemed withdrawn, then he would suddenly start screaming at the top of his lungs for hours on end. At some point, autism was diagnosed, although that certainly wasn’t as common a term in the early 1970s as it is today. (Thank God, because the incidence then was much less frequent.)

I’ve read about the thimerosal theory surrounding autism, and it struck me how so many parents of autistic children remember them as “normal” babies who suddenly changed after receiving multiple vaccines. I wonder if this is what could have happened to my brother, since he seemed alert and aware as a baby. (Although maybe I’m applying this theory in hindsight, and he was indeed “born” this way. I was so young myself at the time, I just can't be sure.)

Almost 40 years later, my brother is easily agitated and hyper-focused on “little” things, like what kind of dressing is going on his salad. Environmental stimuli that we would ignore, or not even notice, just blows his mind. But in the occasional intervals when he is calm and feels safe, he is friendly and smiles and makes a happy remark about the weather or an upcoming holiday.

My memories of my brother are frozen around the time this photo was taken, before the word “autism” entered our lives. I remember him as my little blond companion, grinning and fun to be with.

Happy Father's Day

This is my Dad in what must have been approximately 1934.

What can I say about my father? I believe him to be the kindest human being on the planet. He is gentle, friendly, non-judgmental, and very intelligent. He has always reminded me of Atticus Finch in "To Kill A Mockingbird."

My father is a musically gifted person. He tried to teach me to play the piano when I was very young. I wanted to please him, but I had no ability or interest, and I struggled to play even the simplest pieces in the first few pages of my music primer.

Then one day I turned to the back pages of the music book and noticed that the pieces there had many, more complicated notes than the beginner's pages I was trying to play from.

"Can you play this?" I asked my father, handing him the music book open to one of these fancy pages.

My father sat down and played what to me was a wonderful, complex piece of music. It was a child's music book, so it probably wasn't really difficult. But I was very impressed that someone could just look at that page with all the black dots on it and play exactly what was printed there at a glance, without even practicing.

And then the thought occurred to me: "Why am I struggling so hard to play something simple and boring, when I could be listening to someone else effortlessly play something so beautiful?"

And, to my poor father's chagrin, I have never played another note since. But I have certainly enjoyed the glorious church music he introduced me to, by Bach, Haydn, Handel and Mozart.

My father often says he can't draw at all, so I figure we complement each other. He admires my artwork, and I admire his understanding of music.

A special day

Today is my 46th birthday. My birthday wish is:

To ALL who are reading these words, I wish for you to have a wonderful day today, and have (at least) one special thing that you deeply desire come true for you today. Enjoy!

Happy Mother's Day

I thought this picture was a good one for today, because it shows how devoted mothers are. Photographed by my husband Kevin, it shows the robin family who have taken up residence in the rhododendron bush outside our living room window. Look at all those demanding kids (four, to be exact), and Mom patiently feeds each one and then heads off in search of another worm for the second course.

(Or maybe that's a Dad robin. Well, let's wait until Father's Day to praise Dad.)

Anyway, here's to Moms everywhere today -- thank you for your love and care. This picture is of my beloved Mom and me, when I was 1 and my mother was 27. Frankly, I think I have the BEST, most beautiful Mom on the planet.

Spring nativity

My husband Kevin took this delightful picture of the baby lamb and proud Mom that we saw at Old Sturbridge Village today. More of Kevin's photos can be seen here.

You can tell by my rosy cheeks that it was COLD and WINDY today! But that's spring in New England. Suddenly it will jump into the 70s, and we'll be wondering what happened as we change from down jackets into our T-shirts.

Welcome, Spring!

Much as we New Englanders love to complain about our lack of a real spring season, there's something about this time of year that I find very exciting. It isn't quite winter any more; even though it's cold and sometimes still snows, the snow melts away fast. It isn't quite spring yet, even though the buds are JUST about ready to pop. It's an in-between time, when we can feel that energy waiting in nature, waiting to spring, waiting to explode. It's like the runners at the starting line, waiting for the gun to go off.

That anticipation can be felt in every area of our lives at this time of year. During the winter, we have had the dark, quiet time to dream our dreams and lay our plans. Once the longer days and warmth return, it's time to put them into action, and there's a thrill in imagining how these experiences will finally play out, either soon, or by summer's end, or by year's end.

I find this time of year so stimulating that I've often interpreted it in various works of art over the years. Above is a painting I made, titled "Thaw," just before I finished graduate school in 1997. It was acrylic, oil stick and fabric collage on canvas, approximately 60" tall by 45" wide.

I loved this piece because even non-abstract-art fans admired it when it was displayed at my graduate school thesis exhibition (and later in a solo show at Facets Gallery in Fall River, Mass.). Even though there are no directly recognizable objects in it, many viewers told me they got that impression of melting snow making way for green, which was exactly what I had hoped to convey.