Pajama Sunday Revelry

I had a divine evening last night...celebrating the Merce Cunningham Dance Company's residency program with Bard, at a gala event at DIA /Beacon. I was surrounded by elegant smart cultural groundbreakers. I dined with Bjorn Amelan and Bill T. Jones on one side and Grace Knowlton, Melissa Sorman and my cousin Sage Cowles on the other. Jasper Johns held the door for me when it was time to go.
Ahhh- Today I stayed in my pj's even feeding the chickens, lingering in the aura of fabulous contact.I know i should have been more influenced by the abstractness of the sound and movement- but my work always seems to have to tell a story.
Ink and acrylic on sewn paper, 8 x 9 inches.

Rooster in candy colors

I survived last night grabbing a hen and transporting her to Sharon CT- actually, my husband heroically- with broken ribs and collarbone- did it while I lured the rooster to my side of the pen, and my son Max stood by with a large stick.
At the Historical Society Liz S. had a dozen kids signed up to look at the show, draw from the hen, listen to barnyard book stories and have milk and cookies. Leading a discussion on how to paint or look at animals, she asked the kids if they knew what the word "Inspire" meant. Lots of hands went up- and one little girl, about 5 years old said- ""it's when you get lots of ideas".
I was so pleased! And now inspired- here is my rooster in candy sweet colors. 8 x 10 acrylic on canvas ($200)

Mother Cow and calf #3

Today was a beautiful day- the light was unique- kind of fuzzy, bright, and overcast- the colors were luminous. Our brilliant fall season is about to really hit us- but right now there are hints of crimson and gold edges, flitters of yellow and purple froth. Of course I spent all of the morning and afternoon driving around and socializing, spreading the word about the upcoming Art Studio tours. I just snuck an hour to paint before my first student arrived, a quick set up out the back door of the barn. By the time I took the photograph the cows had vanished.
This evening I’ve promised a live hen to the Sharon Historical Society so that kids visiting the Barnyard Beauties Show can study, draw and paint it- I hope the rooster lets me…
THIS IS 7 X 11 INCHES ($50)

Mother cow and calf #2

SOLD
They are so beautifully posed, just outside the studio, and so it was hard to go inside. (This cow's name is Funny Face- and so is her calf- a Little Funny Face!) I am hoping they will be good models when my open studio happens on the 13th and 14th of October. It would be too good to be true. acrylic and ink on paper, 7 x 5 inches ($50)

Mother cow and calf #1

It's so good to be back. Outside my studio the hills are humming with life. My dad has moved and improved the fencing. Now on the way to my bench- at the end of the "loop", I find the cows grazing. We have a series of new calves born on the farm- 7 in all! I enjoy a nice black pen and acrylic paint on heavy stock paper. This scene is about 5 x 7 inches. $50 (plus shipping)

Rooster in moon light

Still having issues with the coop- the rooster escaped and started attacking anybody who entered the yard. I resigned myself to letting nature takes it's course- the woods and fields are teaming with foxes. My father-in-law was going crazy from his vantage in the windows. My husband, one of the best chicken catchers ever, has broken bones and couldn't help, couldn't care. And I had to leave town. While away- after two days and nights, my sons captured the rooster and re-installed him in the pen. This painting is acrylic on canvas- 8 x 10 inches, painted on the sides. SOLD

Haybale quickie

The light was too good- A crisp fall day of about 58 degrees and sun. This is a tiny block of wood- 4 x 4 x 2 inches- painted across the sides and top as well. I played while the world worked.

Emotional chicken coop issues=no art

My sons promised me, early in the summer, they'd build a chicken coop. It hasn't come to fruition, and over the weekend we settled on a mere renovation of an old rickety outhouse style up in the woods coop from YEARS ago. It was exhausting for all of us and thumbs were hammered, splinters acquired, and cuts gained as we bent old metal, straightened old fencing, applied new roofing, and tried to make something workable out of hodgepodge. It was a fairly short time till shoulders ached and tempers flared. Soon the boys were cursing the chickens and I was hiding my tears. We ended up hardly speaking and I want to give up. But I am playing my options over in my mind- I can get rid of the chickens- that would make everybody happy but me. I can hire someone to build me a coop- but I don't know that person, or I could buy a perfect size, tightly built shed on credit and have it delivered and convert it- a pretty grand plan... that might give me years of happiness...

highlander mailbox

This felt great to do- I got it flowing after cooking dinner. I was acting pretty cranky all day. While building a winter chicken coop, it seemed I couldn't measure a simple rectangle. Three tools gave me three different measurements! My dad came to the rescue. He's amazing with his knack to solve any architectural problem with a scrap he's collected and stashed over years of dump scavenging. We call it making a silk purse out of a sows ear. Ended up taking a walk searching out weed covered cage walls and I collected wild crabapples to make applesauce. Didn't think I had any time to paint, but I needed the money and my friend needed a wedding gift for next weekend. So I made my own enamel work of art out of a black metal mailbox. SOLD

September haybales

Just when I said that I wasn't going to do more daily painting I found myself with an hour between dropping Max at school and meeting an artist friend at the Irving coffee shop to discuss October strategies. It was a rush- mostly inspired by the fear and respect of farmer Sid's tendency to straighten up his haybales into rigid lines soon after forming them. So I rushed to capture these random rolls dotting the field before they will be neatly stored in rows at the sidelines.

Have patience with me

I haven't been posting in the last few days and feel I will be needing a few MORE days before I am able to resume. It's basically three things- I am framing a solo show that goes up at the Mountain Cow Cafe October 5th, organizing a studio tour for the weekend of october 13 & 14, and orchestrating the details of my studio transition from my basement to my dad's barn on the farm, and taking care of my hurt MX-racing husband. (He'll be fine- just a few cracked ribs, collarbone, and bruising. Don't give him a hard time. He is so stubborn he insists on racing again in two weeks). So I plan on being very busy- just not on daily paintings for the next few weeks. Thank you for checking out the blog- and I hope, if you are in the area, you can visit the new studio space- it is awesome.

Wanderlust: suitcase for tropical vacation

acrylic and oil on map, on panel, 9 x 12 inches
Sidney Cox said- "Top accomplishment comes when we care a lot and still have fun. That goes for business, love-making, politics and housekeeping, apparently even war.- It is a waste to take on more gravity that you can develop the spiritual levity to have fun with".
That said- my husband broke his collar bone and several ribs yesterday. I am glad it wasn't his neck. Though that may change. (I am a terrible nurse)

The answer to "why bother?"

my best friend sent me this- she sent me Ms. L'Engle's obituary from the New York Times 9/8/07
I found an answer for your question... kp

Why does anybody tell a story?” Ms. L’Engle once asked, even though she knew the answer.

“It does indeed have something to do with faith,” she said, “faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”

First egg

This morning we were surprised with the first sparkling pink egg- a month and a half earlier than expected. I cannot tell which of the five hens was the star producer- so I thanked them all. Such a sweet thing to find in the grass- newly hardened and a little bumpy- it symbolizes so many things- like a fresh start, a new idea, potential, rebirth, etc...
Today I delivered Kent, my first born son, to boarding school and even though I know it is a great place and that he enjoys being there- a part of me is sad. It really means a new begining for him. The egg seemed to be a reminder of what lays ahead. No time for the studio I had to use what was at hand- ink pen and a watercolor set. I am thinking of changing media- afterall- someone said- the mind needs to be rotated like crops. On paper 11 x 13 inches SOLD

Chair with curtain

A quick painting up in the loft when I had way too many other things to do. Wouldn't it be nice to sit awhile? I am getting ready for an Open studio tour October 13 +14. the brochure should be ready for the mail next Monday. I hope people come and that someone takes a seat.

10 x 8 inches SOLD

Romance of the Tin can car

SOLD Another take on waiting for my muse- I spent the day driving across the county and in large figure eight patterns to the school and back. I did this sketch while snatching a bite for lunch, and sewed it to scraps from my wastebasket. I know that asking "what is the point?" is a killer for any creative concentration. Lately it has been haunting me. So, with paper scraps all over the floor and ink spots on my clothes, I've picked up a book from the loft library- Wake Up Your Mind by Alex Osborn, Dell Publishing 1952. He asserts, as far as I can tell, that your body ages, your memory fades, and your imagination wanes in early adulthood. Schools kill it, and most entry level jobs will kill it, but, 60 pages into the book, Mr. Osborn promises that imagination can be retained and made strong- IF EXERCISED. The first of two exercises is- get this: to be with children, and to read.
I have done and am doing both...
Tonight I will skim ahead and see what else...

Waiting for the Muse

So in between getting one son to work and back and the other son registered for classes, measuring my sculpture, editing the studio tour brochure, doing laundry, talking with the housepainter, writing Thank you notes, and paying bills, I fit in an hour to paint. I had to wonder- why bother? I have admired, throughout the day, baskets of laundry and bowls of tomatos as interesting still life options. But what is the point really- Does the world need another image of bursting ripe tomatos? If I continue painting everyday I risk filling my studio loft with useless canvases and papers, and for what?
But for lack of any other way of operating-here is my daily exersize-
Here is the comfy loft chair with an imaginary Muse- another hen. 10 x 8 inches acrylic on canvas.SOLD

Picky hen

Sometimes I just wake in a mood- everybody seems foreign to me, and my efforts to communicate only get me further muddled in my own frustration. I had expectations of spending the morning with my husband, the afternoon with the kids and they...flew away, with hardly an explanation. I found myself all alone. So I dragged my sulky self to the studio barn and set about painting what comes easily- a hen. When I dug up a clump of clover to paint the landscape- I pondered the luck of the 4 leaves and felt it was all sooooo picky. The hen is picky, I feel picky, the paintbrush work is picky. But, in the process, I've started to feel a lot better.

milkweed souvenir

After walking the the "loop" I brought back a sample plant to study. This is acrylic on wood, 6 x 12 inches

Middle aged milkweed

NOT AVAILABLE
Acrylic on paper, 30 x 24 inches. After my evening walk I return to the studio with fresh picked samples for study. The queen annes lace is crumbling and the fields are turning yellow with ragweed. The milkweek looks dark at the edges and to be about my age. Soon it will turn silvery with plumes of seeds exploding from it's pods. Let's watch!