Wash Day in Tuscany

Ah, the simple life. A rooster crow to start your day. A gaggle of geese waiting for little hands to spread seeds. A wash bucket full of sudsy water. The smell of new mown hay. The feel of stiff jeans on the clothes line. My personal favorite part of farm life was gathering in the eggs and placing them in the basket -- oh so carefully, so they wouldn't break. My Aunt Verda made wonderful hot cakes on the griddle with real butter. After the wood had been chopped with an ax on an old stump, I didn't mind gathering it for the old wood burning stove. Cold rich milk complemented those grand cakes.

When I saw this little farm in Sienna, all those memories came rushing back. Those lovely summer days were enchanting, long and warm. We would gather on the front lawn and play leap frog and Red Rover. I knew then that I wanted a large family to laugh, work, and play together.

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Old Tucson

I've spent many hours riding horseback through the soft, golden September hills surrounding Old Tucson. It is one the true last stands of the West. Symbols of cowboy and Indian lore greet the passing visitor in its architecture from Spanish beginnings, rusted iron implements and old wagon wheels.

Earth colors of interest include Quinacridone Gold and Terre Ercolano. There are strong contrasts of warm, rich darks and sunlight catches of Bismuth Vanadate Yellow. Symbolic cattle, horses, seeking shade in monoliths of Burnt Umber and Pale Cream Sandstone.

Old Tucson is surrounded by a magical country of sunshine and Joshua trees, teddy bear cholla, an occasional staghorn and giant saguaros that dot the rolling landscape like tall dark mounments on a golden plain.

The image, like Old Tucson, is a crossing of modern pillars and the western lure of horses.

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Greek Grandpa

Greek Granpa represents a whimsical glympse of the ancient coast of Greece. Cats, feral and domestic, have roamed the white washed villages for many years. They seek shade in the cobalt doorways and nap on pepple stone corridors. They are enchanted by the sea. It hypnotzies them by night and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore invigorate their hunting by night.


The Greek Grandpa has seen the passing of many seasons. He is proud and wise. His protegy catch mice in the shadows of the great stone wall. He has seen storms that threaten to decimate his costal home with great fury and magnitude. He has lived the quiet and romantic nights under the hazy grecian moon. He is strong and gentle. His fur bears the scars of battle. His face is sensitive and resigned. He, the Greek Grandpa, is king of all he surveys. LONG LIVE THE KING!!!!


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Night Zebras

Vertical, acrylic on canvas

I've always loved Zebras. They are the ultimate contrast of black and white. The strong linear design of their coats forming a strange calligraphic quality as they stand side by side under the stars.

Painting Zebras is fun ... comparable toa jig-saw puzzle. The coarse main stands straight up and bushy. It curves cylinder like around the short, thick neck. From the rump and tail, the stripes curve upward and over the broad back curving down in a graceful arc toward the belly. A Zebra face finds small delciate and intricate patterns over the forehead and down the sides of the jaw to a black muzzzle. No two are alike!!

When I paint Zebras, I always paint their contours and the shadows cast by their form first. Warm shadows form on their bellies from the dense fall undergrowth and the highlights are muted in the soft moonlight. The atomsphere is cool -- the contrast of the Indanthrone sky, melded with pinpricks of stars against the warmth of the Raw Sienna and Umber foreground.

The shadows are very dark but it is a warm dark between the complicated under branches. The horizontal passages of naples yellow and Indian Red mirror the striking movement in the Zebras' stripe patterns.

Like a mouse finding its way to treasure in a maze, begin at the bottom and wind your way through the patterns of light to the Zebras. The moonlight is thick and warm in the center section beckoning the viewer to the Zebras which obscure velvet, dark, night shadow patterns. It is a tapistry of texture and contrasts.

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Sundance

16x20 Oil

Have you ever been walking at sundown in a very private place where you felt safe and at peace? This is one of my favorites that I share with special friends who share my delight of horseback riding.

Horses are noble, quiet creatures -- their foot falls are rhythmic and solid. This afternoon embraced a quiet gentle light after a storm. The shadows were warm and soft -- the light played serenely as the shadows of wet black trunks were strong and secure.

I painted from memory. I utilized the texture of the rich warm oil paint to give the image texture and atmosphere. The trees were black but using black oil would have caused them to be like black coal on my canvas. NO!! I chose ultramaraine blue and burnt sienna for thier solid trunks. Red, yellow, and blue being mixed creates the absence of all color. I tuned them toward the cool blue black in contrast to the warmth of the atomsphere and hazy mists that surrounds the tangle of fall under-growth and our rider. A PERFECT SETTING!!!

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Surprise for You

I was thinking about how very fragile we are under our outer trappings of the latest glad rags, glitz and hype. In the stillness of the morning hours, we come home to our deepest thoughts, hopes and fears – presented as a beautiful box tied with a golden ribbon.

Flowers bloom and butterflies hover in silent majesty. The outside of the box, the one we project to the world, is carefree and wonderful. (All the bad stuff goes in the box.) We can open that box of pity, regret, and selfish acts and really look at and deal with the contents, but it’s scary! In order to grow, pick a time when you are feeling confident and fearless! Lift the lid and prepare to take on the dark side of light. Scrub it clean! Don’t stop! Deal with whatever is in the box! Its easier than we imagine. The true surprise is how wonderful we feel after! It’s the truest gift we can give ourselves.

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