Art Journal
Luscious
October 2011
22"x22"
My mom and I took a short trip in late fall 2009 to see an exhibit of Joseph Raffael's paintings at the Nancy Hoffman Gallery. Seeing his huge paintings up close was an amazing experience. It's a whole-body-experience to view them this way - especially a collection of them all at once. I had a strange experience after being with them for an hour or so. I was overcome with this strong need to leave the gallery. I think I was overcome with the desire to make art this big and beautiful and I hadn't given myself permission to be that audacious and/or didn't know if I was up for the task and I just couldn't bear witness to it any longer. I've since made one pretty big painting so I'm headed in that direction... But all of that is not about this painting! These tartlets and cakes were in a window case at Petrossian on 7th Avenue, not far from Central Park. OMG! We had to stop to take a closer look and take a few photos, of course. Petrossian (which started in Paris by two Armenian brothers in the 20's) is known more for their caviar, than their sweets. But these are so gorgeous, they needed to be painted! My friend and fellow artist Eleanor Harvey saw it and said "that's lucscious." And so it was named. This is the third painting of sweet things this year - I'm going to give them a rest for a while. Vegetables are calling.
Ripe
September 2011
22"x22"
My dad has planted a vegetable garden every year of my life. There were organic gardening magazines lying around the house when I was growing up, when the word "organic" was still exotic. The house we moved to when I was a year and a half old was on a quarter acre and he planted a huge corner of the lot with fruit trees and an enormous vegetable garden every summer. My three brothers and I spent our summers barefoot, sticking green bean leaves to our clothes, eating raw beans off the vines - and cucumbers, still warm from the sun, peeled and dunked in a mug that had our own concoction of oil, vinegar and ketchup. But the most special treats from the summer garden were the corn and the home-grown tomatoes. Fat, juicy, sweet - there's nothing like them. These are Dad's tomatoes from last season (2010). It was fun to paint them this year just at the time when they're coming in by the bucket-full. I had a couple of them sitting on my painting table so I could see the color they really are. This was fun to paint - all the abstract shapes in the background - and it seemed so small and easy on the heels of painting "Hallelujah" last month. Yesterday I was at work at Light Rain, to capture this one for prints and I asked Suzy Simms, a friend of my boss, Steve's to help me name it. Suzy is a kick so I knew she'd come up with something good. It took her about a second and a half - she said "Ripe." She's so right! Ripe they are, and "Ripe" it is! Now I'm headed out to my folks to help Dad harvest this year's crop!
Hallelujah
August 2011
40"x60"
Early last year (2010) I was in an art store and saw sheets of heavy watercolor paper that were twice as large as I'd seen before. I had been under the impression that if I wanted to paint larger than 30"x40" I had to go to roll paper, which is much thinner and a challenge to paint on. I got so excited, I bought all 5 sheets they had in stock. I've been wanting to paint big for a while and now I was equipped! Then BJ (our doggy) died and the energy was out of my sails for "going big." This summer the call came back. At some point I had settled upon this image as one of those that could take being blown up so drastically. Not every image can. There is a lot of detail in this one that would have made it challenging to paint small, in fact. I started on it during our Tahoe trip at the end of July after finishing Faith (below). As the days marched on, it seemed that the painting and the amount of work left to do actually grew! The last week I had to really focus and work hard, with the Tiburon festival the weekend before, it was a challenge to keep sourcing the energy. All the while, I was wondering what the heck I was going to name this big piece. Then one morning, really early, I was listening to a playlist of songs on my iPod, my comfy headset making gorgeous sound and k.d. lang's incredibly emotional version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah started playing. The lyrics refer to a "broken hallelujah" and the title dropped out of the music. "Hallelujah" - praise God, yes! I am so fed by color, light, astonishing beauty, even and especially amidst scratches, teary water drips and brokenness. The process of naming these paintings - especially the more recent florals - is truely led by the spirit - well, actually all of life is really - I just have to remember it.
Faith
July 2011
29"x29"
I had been doing an errand for my husband late last spring, dropping something by his friend Bill's on Magnolia in San Anselmo. Uncle Bill, as we call him, has a collection of beautiful roses out front, some of them so old their gnarled trunks look like olive trees - and they are beautiful - never better than in May. This one bush was covered with these beautiful roses, splashed with color - and it was swarming with honey bees! I've been lusting after another image of with bees and flowers to paint, so I snapped away. Alas, none of those with bees ended up being destined for paint and paper, but this one did. I love how the back is in shadow, but the center glows with sunlight. And somehow, this one needed to be bigger - nearly 30 inches square. Though in real life, this flower is only about three inches across, It has so much life, it needed to be blown way up. I finished it on our Tahoe vacation in July. Joe and I sat one morning tossing about possible names - nothing really stuck. When Brenda came over and saw it, she about fell on the floor, saying it made her heart burst open and that I should call it "Faith." Though I wouldn't have come up with that, it just fit for me. Faith is something that I had just been talking about as a theme in my life right now. It took Brenda to put that together. Now I just need her to tell what me she meant by the connection she sees to the Book of Ruth in the Bible. I'm curious about that....
Jellies from Hediard
June 2011
22"x22"
Paris holds such a special place in my heart and in my life - as it does for many people. It's an extraordinary city. And I find that by following my desire to go there, I end up going, really as if by magic. The most remarkable was when I was just separated from my first husband. I wrote in my journal that if we did end up divorcing, I wanted to go to Paris for six months. Nine months later I was on a plane - to Paris - for six months! A more modest version of that happened this past fall and winter. In November I heard on the radio the director of the Musee D'Orsee talk about a huge - largest ever - Monet exhibition that was going on at the Grand Palais until sometime in January, while the Musee d'Orsee was being refurbished. I thought to myself "it would be so great to go to Paris to see it." I mentioned this to my mom. She has a dear client and friend, Perry Cantarutti, an executive with the airlines who had just been stationed in Paris. One thing led to another and we had tickets and a room in Perry's apartment right next to the Jardin de Luxembourg - the week before the end of the big Monet exhibition. Mom and I had a wonderful week in Paris taking in over 300 Monet paintings (!), the gorgeous window displays, old and new friends - and FOOD! We visited all the big fancy food places, Fauchon, Mariage Freres, Le Bon Marche, and Hédiard - where these jellies are. This painting was scary - all those white spots! No big washes here, just lots of squiggles and dots. A new fun way to paint - and I found it quite meditative. They are "happy little aliens" as my friend Vicki calls them! And more than one person has said they make their mouth water. I guess this means I've done my job. Thank you Perry, thank you Paris!
Sweet Trilogy
May 2011
22"x22"
This painting came out of Ronn Rohe's brainstorm. Ronn is the co-chair of the La Jolla Festival of the Arts this year. Always the marketing idea man, Ronn thought to connect me with Bernard Guillas, the Executive Chef at the Marine Room restaurant in La Jolla. He suggested that I paint something of Chef Bernard's culinary creations. We arranged a trip earlier in May for me to meet Bernard and take home photo ideas to paint. I had no idea what he had in mind - but he must have known how much I love to paint artful, color-filled pastry! The plate he created actually had more elements and we'd positioned it near the window looking out onto the beach. There was plenty of subject matter to work with, but the creative process of composing the painting brought me in close, where I'm most comfortable - and most alive. The painting came through in no time while on vacation on Kauai. I am so at home making bold-colored art while on Kauai - but then, I'm not shy about color regardless of where I am! This painting will be on display at this year's festival, where Bernard will re-create the hibiscus-infusion lemon tart that's up front, which I got to taste. Not only gorgeous, it's délicieux!
Summer Zinfandel
April 2011
30"x22"
There's nothing like a deadline to put a fire under a project. I painted this one because I really wanted to have something to submit to the California State Fair Art of Wine exhibit. I've had a painting accepted in that category the past three years in a row and I wanted to try again. But I didn't have any originals that were new to them. I'd been deliberating about whether or not to paint this image. I loved some aspects of it - the wild color, the detail in the leaves and especially the grapes that are peeking from behind and above the upper left leaf. I couldn't make that up! Something about the composition seemed busy and that's what had me wondering if it I really wanted to spend the time on this one. But I've learned from past images and paintings that sometimes a just-ok photo can be a wonderful painting. Plus I didn't have any better candidates. This is the second painting I finished during the month of April. From taking 5 months to paint one - to two in a month! It feels good to be able to sit down and focus on work. The leaves on the left side were pretty scary when I let my mind tell me I had no idea how to paint them. I just sat down and gave it a go. The first time I stood back from it after painting a section, I was pretty blown away at how the pillowy texture of the veined leaf came to life. It's so odd how up close, it's pretty messy and clearly a painting. Yet from afar it lives. The mystery of art shows up once more.
Awakening
April 2011
22"x30"
This painting filled a craving. Once I got the previous painting finished so clients could have a giclee of it, my insides called out to paint with yellows, pinks and oranges. It took just about two weeks from start to finish - pretty quick for me - and it was so much fun! My brush water bucket was the most gorgeous peachy orange color – it looked like it would taste good like some some fruity tropical nectar. This painting reminds me that color is a nutrient - it fills a need that I have - and I know I'm not alone! Yummy is not just for our taste buds and noses! These are Joseph's Coat roses from my mother-in-law Evelyn's front garden in her home in Corte Madera. In painting them, I was struck by how the same plant makes these two incredibly different blooms. Not only are the colors of the petals clearly different, but how the stamens in the two flowers are different shapes and sizes. I gain so much intimate knowledge about my painting subjects in the process of painting them. There is so much we can learn if we pay close attention to what is right here in our midst.
Southside Lily Pond II
February-March 2011
30"x22"
In October 2010 I did a new festival - the second one in La Jolla - where I met some wonderful people, Joan and Scott Brown. They really loved Southside Lily Pond, but the space in their home needed two pieces of art side by side. They asked me if I could paint a companion piece for it. I took on the challenge, not realizing that I was headed for a fall. I came home and searched through the images from the same day - these images were pre-digital, so I had to find the actual photos. I found this one and liked the idea of painting the same theme in a different scale. Same day, same pond, slightly different angle - the light is coming from another direction. It had a big ugly rock along one side which I replaced with more lily pads. When the Brown's said they liked the image, I started to paint - but not for long. By November I was dead in the water (so to speak!). It was scary but I was just burned out and there was nothing there when I sat to paint. It felt like the ability and inclination to paint had just vanished. No matter how much I tried to force myself, it just wasn't there. These first four years of making, showing and selling art have been at a fairly breakneck pace. It seems that the part of me that sources the creator needed a break. I'm incredibly grateful that it's back and for the moments of joy at putting color on paper again. And I'm also very grateful for the Brown's who were there in my heart and mind making sure I didn't stay away too long!
Morning Shine
September 2010
22"x30"
When we were living in Petaluma, two dear girl friends - Cathy and Nancy - and I went jogging at the crack of dawn most mornings. The three of us were the "The Lulu's" and our jogs were a hoot! Mostly we jogged in the rural areas just outside of town, but now and then I could talk them into a "garden tour" jog, to see what was blooming behind all the charming white picket fences in town. Now that we're in Fairfax, I head out in the morning with our dog -- and sometimes with my camera. I took this photo in Dean and Nancy's old place - they've moved on, but their garden blooms on. As often happens, I fall in love with an image and HAVE to paint it because of something that grabs me - in this one it was the light bouncing off the shiny camellia leaves. Wow! And as often happens, I am challenged as to how to represent it with paper, water and paint. The background is a departure for me, it was just the side of the house in the image, so I got to play with layers of washes and subtle texture - it was fun. Joe really likes this painting - my guy's guy - a pink flower - how cool is that?!
Manualoha
August 2010
22"x22"
The first trip that Joe and I took to Kauai, when he began coming back from chemo, we stayed in a place called "Manualoha," which translates from Hawaiian as either "lovebird" or "parrot." "Parrot," I read on one web site, because parrots can express love. So sweet. Our end unit had a private garden space in the back, making our two weeks there especially restful and beautiful. On another trip back we stayed in the same complex, in a different condo with a private garden. (I think this was the trip where I painted the first plumeria painting.) Over the back lanai was this plumeria tree. I love this variety - the range of color, the rounded shape - just so luscious! Like rainbow sherbet ice cream! In order to take the photos, I had to perch up on the patio table and chairs with my camera. I may have been risking my neck, but I was going to get close enough to get a good shot! This summer I've been in the mood to paint flowers with a vengeance. In reviewing my collections this one jumped out at me. In the midst of running after Bo, our new Labrador puppy, I managed to get this one finished. It's a happy painting and I found it easy to paint. It's nice to not be challenged ALL the time. It is summertime after all.
Late Summer Zin
July 2010
30"x22" - Original Sold
Late in the summer of 2009 I visited Mike's yard to see what his zinfandel grapes were like when they were nearly ripe. BJ and I climbed all over his hill in the evening light, having to climb under the netting draped over them - more sugar in the grapes and the birds want them. The light was just so lovely on this one, coming through in bright shocks on the left. I've had this image in the folder on my computer of candidates for painting. It kept jumping out at me. It's a good sign if the image calls to be painted even as a small thumbnail on a computer screen. I was working on this when BJ died. In a strange way, painting this was harder than painting BJ. In resuming painting it, I am moving on with life. I finished it on vacation in Tahoe, where BJ was a big part of our time here - his incredible dock jumping and our morning hikes on the mountain trails. Another layer of acceptance. This is my third painting of grapes. I love the leaves in this one - each is quite different from the other and they come in from the corners framing the cluster of fruit - which is softly cast with the green light on the darker side. New life shines in the shadow.
A Celebration of Pink
June 2010
22"x30" - Original Sold
What to paint after the meaningful yet difficult experience of painting my dog BJ, just after he died? I just couldn't get into resuming the painting that I was working on (of grapes) when the accident happened. Three weeks ago I was out at my mom and dad's house on a Saturday. I was in their garden taking photos of roses and happened to notice the lovely afternoon light coming through this rhododendron from behind. Later looking at all the images on the computer, this one jumped out. It almost looked like a painting as it was. I just loved all the abstract shapes in the background and all the pink! I have three brothers and am used to being around a lot of male energy - which is pretty much everywhere in our world. At the same time, I am unequivocally a pink-girl on the inside. We call our guest room the "pink room" and I need regular "pink time" in it. It seems that painting all these pink colors was just what I needed. Sometimes I feel bashful about how much I love pink and other times I claim my pinkness with great pride. It is with that spirit that this painting is named - a celebration of pink.
BJ - First Tahoe Swim
May 2010
30"x22" - My Private Collection
BJ was our 5 1/2 year old dog who we lost to an awful accident in April this year. I had drawn this painting a couple of weeks before he died. While I was drawing it, I had the thought that it would be interesting to paint it while he was alive, as I had painted our previous dog, Bud, after he'd died. I'm grateful for the innocence we have in the present, not knowing what will come in the future. It was a good and challenging process to make this painting. I vacillated between the craft of painting shapes and colors to realizing that I was painting my sweet puppy dog who was no longer here - at least on the physical plane - and I'd stop to cry and cry. This photo was taken when he was only about a year and a half old. We were on our first trip to Tahoe with him. This is a spot on the west side of the lake we've dubbed "Rib Eye Point." It's a cove with barbeque pits nearby. We've had evening dinners there with family-friends the Newmans and the Torresan family. It's fitting that this is where BJ first touched Tahoe water, because this is the same cove where Bud took his last swim in Tahoe. We love our dogs. We miss BJ - terribly - and when the time is right another lab will join our lives.
Macarons
April 2010
22"x22" - Original Sold
La Duree is a venerable Salon de The (tea house) in Paris. I took the photo that became this painting while on a trip there with Anne and Brad Newman (my sister-in-law and nephew) in March of 2008. This image has been calling to me to paint it as a companion to the eclairs from Fauchon - colorful pastries from Paris - food as art. These lovely crispy, intensely flavored cookies I'm now seeing everywere...though the first time was here, in Paris - at La Duree. Yet another completely different subject matter to actually paint, all the details of the "foot" of the merengue cookies - the silver plate, its details and the reflections were really fun to paint. And as I was painting each one, I kept wondering what the flavor might be. I'll have to go back to find out! Yum!
Lily Reflections
March 2010
30"x22"
These lilies are in a pond outside the Plantation Gardens restaurant in Kiahuna Plantation in Poipu on Kauai. When we go there, I often visit for painting ideas. In addition to the lily ponds they have the most extravagent collection of orchids I've ever seen! Though the same dimensions as the previous water lily panting - and the subjects are of similar scale - it still amazes me how different each painting ends up being. Paintings really do have a life of their own. A space of nearly two years between the painting of them and a whole other thing emerges. There's so much more going on in this one. The reflections of the lilies are the star of the show for me. In Southside Lily Pond, the light was such that the reflections had very little detail, nearly black. In this one, it was earlier in the morning, making the reflections the most full of color and richness. The reflections of the reedy succlulent plant growing at the back edge of the pond is also makes a big impact. There are differing opinions about the dark shadow in the center of the painting. I like that you cannot tell exactly what it is - it's mystery and murkiness. And it wasn't until I was really in close doing the drawing that I realized there was a little dragonfly or damselfly on the lily on left. So, I made it bigger and spread its wings in the tropical light.
View from La Valencia
February 2010
22"x30" - La Jolla Festival of the Arts 2010
June 2009 I showed my work at the La Jolla Festival of the Arts for the first time. The longest roadtrip to date, I loaded Joe's "Mighty Toyota" with the art and the booth equipment and headed south. Though it was a challenging weekend (it RAINED!), the festival organizers with the Torrey Pines Kiwanis seemed to like my work, as a couple months later, they asked me to be one of three artists to present ideas for the next year's poster art. Holy cow! Was I excited! This meant another trip down to La Jolla to hunt for painting subject ideas. This was my first inspiration: to have lunch on the balcony of the La Valencia Hotel, overlooking the ocean. I had to come up with something that said "La Jolla" and stay with what I do, which is to paint intimacy. Most of the previous paintings for the poster have been landscapes. I flew down for the day and had lunch with Ronn Rohe, the festival chairman and a wonderful woman I've met through my art, Chris Palmquist. It was a perfect day, we had lobster salad and the staff graciously saw to it that all my crazy requests were attended to. Don Ludwig, the 2010 Chairman and his committee helped me improve upon the composition, and after a few rounds of changes (including replacing the actual wine bottle label with my brother Matt's pinot noir label) I got painting. Most of it was done while Joe and I were on Kauai in February. I finished it the day before the earthquake in Chile spawned a tsunami that was headed for the Hawaiian Islands. What a trip! This painting put me through quite a bit - starting with flying down there for the day for the photo, to all the Photoshop revisions, I drew it three times and painted it nearly twice. (I started over after having done two thirds of it!) My hope is that the poster makes people think of being on vacation, taking the time to appreciate the abundant goodness that life offers.
Bessie and Golda
January-February 2010
22"x41" - Louise Harrison
My first pet commission. Bessie and Golda live with their mom in San Rafael. Their mom had seen the painting I'd done of our dog Bud and asked me if I'd paint her Lab and wiry-hair Dachschund. Sure! I said. A new challenge. It was interesting painting someone else's dogs; even though I work from a photo that has all the features I need to render, the spirit of the dogs needs to come through too - and I don't know these dogs like I did Bud. It was fun standing at her front door, painting in hand, and to hear the barks of the two dogs I'd been "with" for many weeks. Of course they were oblivious to the painting - it doesn't smell very interesting. I'm grateful their mom appreciated it and I'm so very honored to have been asked to capture her pups for posterity.
Blueberry Symphony
December 2009
22"x22" - Scott and Nancy Eckert
My friend Karen Friedman has a weekend home in Nevada City, CA. Our mutual friend Vicki Bentley and I spent a weekend with Karen there in July of 2009. After a scary brush with possible catastrophe involving Karen's spaniel, George, Vicki and a culvert of rushing water - still a bit wet and dirty - Karen and I visited this blueberry farm. I'd never seen blueberries farmed in large scale like this. The bright summer sun illuminated the various colors the berries go through on the way to our cereal bowls and pie plates - much like the grapes my brother Mike grows that I've painted. A wonderful new collector with whom I'd shared the image asked me to paint this for his wife for Christmas 2009. It was an ambitious undertaking to get it done to be framed and shipped to Oregon in time. As I painted it, I really appreciated connecting it with them, knowing where it was going. It was such joy. As I was finishing up, my dear friend Brenda's son Quincy played Moonlight Sonata on the piano over the phone to me. I was blown away - he's quite a musical prodigy. I e-mailed them the painting when it was done and Quincy named it. Vicki says it's apt as she sees lots of dance-like movement. I continue to be fed by all that others see in these paintings.
Birds in Paradise (On the Way to the Beach)
November 2009
22"x30"
These bird of paradise flowers were growing in the front yard of a home in the Marine Street-Wind-and-Sea part of La Jolla, CA. As a result of the La Jolla Festival of the Arts in June 2009, I was asked to submit three ideas for the poster art for the 2010 festival. What an opportunity! I flew down for the day to scout out ideas with my camera. It was mid-September and a gorgeous day. This is a small bit of the strip of flowers growing on the street-side of the fence enclosing an amazing-looking garden. I perched to get the view through the flowers towards the Pacific Ocean. I painted this one with the prospect that the festival organizers might choose it to be the poster. They decided to have me paint another one (stay tuned...), making this one available to another home! I've been wanting to paint bird of paradise flowers, and have not been inspired until this one; the fence along the left and the hybiscus and bougainvilla in the background softened the composition and rounded out the color palette. I really wanted to name this one simply "On the Way to the Beach" but I thought that we'd all refer to it by the flower name, so it's both.
August Bounty
August 2009
16"x30"
My husband, Joe came up with this idea. It was mid-August, 2008 and I had just come back from the farmer's market with some ripe figs and gorgeous red grapes to add to Bartlett pears from my parents' tree. He said matter of factly, "you should put that fruit in that plate and paint it" - pointing to the piece of Italian pottery that he'd bought as my birthday gift the year we went to Italy. It was from a shop owned by a young woman faence artist in the small Tuscan town of Montaione. I fell in love with it. We'd already bought "the" piece of pottery we'd planned to buy on the trip, yet I couldn't stop thinking about it. I asked if it could be my birthday present - he said yes. It ended up arriving from Italy ON my birthday. Later he told me that one of the reasons I'm in his life is that I respond to things like that. He'd barely noticed it in the shop with all the other pottery and because of how I did, now he gets to enjoy it at home. Making the painting was a trial. The ivy was really dark in the original photo and hard to make out. I was painting half-blind and being not very good at making stuff up, not liking what was happening. I was over half way done with the background and put the whole piece of paper in the kitchen sink and washed off the paint - which was very empowering! I took a new photo under better light, photoshopped the new ivy background in to the original, redrew the ivy and began again. The tablecloth was challenging too - without a decent drawing I had to again make it up. Then the fun started. Painting the plate was a delight. I kept imagining the moment when she had originally painted on the glazes, appreciating re-tracing her brush strokes. This painting speaks to me of the generosity of the earth, the pottery artist and my husband.
Beneath an Olive Tree
July 2009
22"x22" - Scott and Nancy Eckert
My father planted this tree in our family yard in the early 70's - it is now quite a tree. This image came from a November day when my niece, Amanda and I spent some time taking photos in my parents' garden. It was gently warm and the light was soft. The blue-black of these very ripe olives combined with the grey-greens and ochres is a new, somehow more masculine palette - a welcome addition in my body of work. I finished this painting while on vacation in Tahoe with my parents. It was really fun to share the process with my dad. And, he helped me name it over coffee one morning with his reminiscences of being a young boy sitting up in the immense olive tree at his grandparents' in the Central Valley and of a song from Kismet about a fool sitting beneath an olive tree.
Persimmon Sun
June 2009
22"x22" - Malcom and Lindsey McLorg
My visit back to my neighbor Jen's persimmon tree last fall was a bright sunny day. The birds had started to help themselves to the persimmons - many of them were half-eaten. The colors in the sunlight were brighter, more yellow. Persimmon Rain had been such a special piece, a favorite of many people, it's daunting to paint another. It is interesting for me to remember what it was like painting that one - how I struggled to find my way through it and to see how much I've learned since. Painting this was like traveling over somewhat familiar territory. I love the branches - painting branches is fun - having them take shape. I painted the persimmon last and grappled with the light and shadow - I wanted the light to glow on the left edge, while also in shadow. It is quite amazing to me, magical even, how these paintings end up taking shape, and become real things.
Rhododendron Raindrops
May 2009
22"x30" - David and Cindy Weaver
These blossoms are from a rhododendron bush in our front yard, right after the rain, in the bright late morning light. After the daffodils, these are the first of the spring flowers in our yard. They are faintly fragrant and so delicately colored. These images full of drops and sunlight have captivated me for a while and yet none of them seemed quite right. Playing around in Photoshop, I combined two images and the result jumped out saying "paint me." Painting all these drops was fun and puzzling. Painting the center I had the thought that I was painting the inside of an oyster - the round organic shapes, the luminescent, pearly colors. It took a while for this one to proclaim itself finished. I'm happy that it is.
Queen Anne Cherries
April 2009
22"x30"
In June 2008, my dear friend Brenda called to tell me that the people were hoarding in to the self-pick orchards in Brentwood and were stripping the cherry trees. If I wanted some images, I'd better get out there quick. Life is always so full, and it was going to make me crazy to drop everything and drive an hour and a half each way. That evening Joe and I walked to the store in town and my eye was caught by color off to the left. I looked over to Jen's yard, where the persimmon tree I've painted several times and the Graham Thomas roses that became Blossoming Hope are. The tree RIGHT NEXT to the persimmon tree is a Queen Anne cherry tree, full of gorgeous fruit. And next to that is a Bing cherry tree. This is such a message that life can really be simple and easy - and full of delightful surprises. I love how all the colors came through so bright and clear in this one.
Touched by the Sun
March-April 2009
41"x29"
This dahlia is from Mike and Julie's garden where the Zin vines I've painted grow. All the Browns were at their place for a barbeque late summer 2008, the low evening light on this flower caught my eye. This painting swam in my imagination for weeks while I was preparing for, doing and recovering from my first ArtExpo in New York this year. I couldn't wait for the time and energy to bring it through. Its name comes from a Carly Simon song title. I've played this song whenever I need to be really inspired for years. This single bloom stands on its own - lit externally by the sun as well as from within by its own power.
Honey Bee and Rugosa Roses
November 2008
22"x30" - Jennifer Stokes
One bright day this past summer, as I headed out to our side yard to dump the compost bucket, the color of these Rugosa Roses grabbed my eye. I ran back out with my camera and hopped up on the rock wall to capture the flowers. Some honey bees had come flying around - my heart jumped with delight. There were some images with two bees, but this one, with the solo bee flying into the cupped flower was the ONE I had to paint. This painting came through nearly in its entirety on a 10-day trip to Kauai this month. The intense color that had grabbed my eye was hard to reproduce with watercolor - and I'd never worked with quinacridone paints so saturated like this. Even dry, they move around easily, making layering difficult -- in every painting I find a new challenge. I painted the bee last - a fun treat. Honey bees are sweet, docile creatures that are the link to our food supply and their populations are dwindling - baffling scientists. This painting expresses my appreciation for them. Next to paint one pollinating a food plant...
Blossoming Hope
October-November 2008
29"x38" - Jim and Niz Brown
Another large painting! These Graham Thomas roses grow in the same garden as the Persimmons. I was in Jen's garden down the street later in the afternoon one day early this summer to take photos of her Queen Anne cherries - (another painting on the way!). This one had to come first - I had really been missing painting roses. I began working on it mid-September after recovering from the late summer festivals. I finished it the night after the election. It is so filled with my desire for fundamental change in our world - and the anxieties that cropped up before really knowing who would be our next president. It expresses the hope that is bursting inside me for what is now truly possible for our world.
Zin of Many Colors
August 2008
41"x26"
This is the largest painting I've made to date. And I worked on it fiercely to get it done in time to be framed for my first time at the Sausalito Art Festival. Mid-Summer Zin has been so well received, I've been looking forward to creating another painting of wine grapes. These are again Mike and Julie's Zinfandel grapes. Though the lighting is different, it was the same evening last summer. Yet, painting this I kept wondering how the colors were ending up so different from the first Zin painting. They ended up being brighter and more stained-glass-like. I also liked including and painting the post. It's solid and neutral and is a grounding influence in the painting. This painting speaks to me of transformation. Zinfandel grapes start out all green and they end up all blue. They become all the colors in between as they ripen. But they don't all ripen at the same rate. Kind of like us. As we evolve, it's mostly not a uniform process. The gift is that the light illuminates and shows us the beauty in each stage.
Lunch on the Terrace
August 2008
16"x30" - David and Cindy Weaver
This was a lunch I had with my parents on the back terrace in the little place we stayed in Quarante, in Langedoc in France - the same village where the Blue Door is. I love the colors in the salad and wine and was intrigued to paint the reflections and shadows in the glasses and plates. My mom encouraged me to replace the white plastic chairs in the background with something else. I found the idea for these chairs in a picture in a Provence cookbook. I really am more a journalist than an inventor, so the great challenge was making up the details of this change in composition. The most fun was painting the components of the salad - tomatoes, eggs, anchovies, black oil-cured olives. Yum.
Apricots in the Sun
July 2008
30"x22" - Nancy Searle
These apricots on their tree are from Anne and Gary's backyard in San Anselmo. I began this painting while I was underway painting Southside Lily Pond. I was tired of the dark colors I was painting the water with and needed to play with some bright, clear color. I started in with the background on the lower right using even more intense and bright color than was there. With the scale of the fruit in this painting these fruits may be hard to recognize as apricots. I'm guessing they'll be mistaken for peaches - which doesn't matter, really. Most years this tree produces the most amazing crop - buckets and buckets full. This painting reminds me of the generosity of nature - and of Gary's faithful care of it in his garden. A side note: this same tree produced the apricots that I used to make the tart in Fruit Tart.
Southside Lily Pond
June 2008
30"x22" - Original Sold
When Joe and I go to Kauai, I take walking trips around Poipu with my camera, hunting for painting subjects. These waterlilies are in a resort garden. This image intrigues me because of the various elements it represents -- below the water, above the water and reflections on the surface. The nature of this subject required me to be less literal, more interpretive. It was both fun and difficult. The fun part is watching it emerge. I had started this painting sometime last spring on a piece of paper half this size. I abandoned it about a third of the way through, knowing that it needed to be bigger. Now that it's done, I see that it would have been great on even larger paper. That'll be the next waterlilies.
Fruit Tart
May 2008
22"x22" - David Klein
I've been wanting to follow up Fauchon Eclairs with another food painting. I made this tart for Father's Day dinner 2007. I took several photos and loved the lusciousness I saw in them. I've been hesitant to paint this, as I was missing the color green in it. It needed some kiwi or green grapes. Nevertheless, it kept calling to me. It was a challenge to paint - all those reflections, apricot jam spilling over bluberries with the blue coming through the orange. How was I going to represent that?! I put myself on a deadline to get it painted in time to enter into the 2008 California State Fair. Even with working, I got it done in about 10 days - the quickest yet! All I did besides work, sleep, eat and walk BJ was paint, paint, paint! It's very satisfying to be focusing on producing work like this. This painting won a Merit Award at the 2008 Marin County Fair Fine Art Exhibit.
October Light
April 2008
22"x15"
I'd been holding on to this photo - a quieter, somehow more feminine persimmon. The leaves cascading down seem like folds of fabric. I loved painting the leaves, revisiting somewhat familiar territory while being a bit freer with color. As it has turned out, I love the light around the subject - which seems to take the place of the water drops in the first persimmon painting. This painting has gotten me back in my painting stride after spending this winter pretty much just recharging my creative energies.
Grace
February 2008
30"x22" - Joanne Cormier LeBlanc
One day last summer, in the midst of all the art activities, I found a moment to pick some roses and put them on the deep window sill in my studio. It was evening, the sun starting to sink, I noticed the light streaming through the vase alongside a candle holder and a purple heart paperweight - both gifts from dear friends. The light and colors stopped me for a deeper look. I captured it so that I could bring it out with paint this winter. This painting describes my appreciation for so much - beauty, light, color, roses and treasured relationships. I loved painting the reflections on the sill and the light coming through the 200 year-old live oak in the front of our house. This painting won an Honorable Mention ribbon at the 2008 Marin County Fair Fine Art Exhibit.
Tropical Peaches
November 2007
22"x30" - Cherie Gotti
I've been really wanting to paint some stone fruit and couldn't wait to get out with my camera this summer as fruit started ripening. One Saturday, I got a call from Annie, Joe's sister telling me their peaches were really ripening and I'd better get over before they all got picked! It was mid-morning, tons of sun and I climbed up on Gary's ladder so that I was completely in the world of the peaches and their leaves. When I saw the streaks of light on this one photo, it was clear this was the one to be painted. It was a challenge to represent the light and still capture the shapes and shadings. Most of this painting was done while we were on Kauai this fall and it seems that Kauai worked her magic through me with the colors and light. They ended up looking so tropical! I love the colors and the intricate design that the tree and the light provided. This was a fun one. And isn't that just a perfect pruning cut in the lower left-center? Thanks, Gary for growing and tending such an amazing garden. The apricots are coming soon!
Mid-Summer Zin
October 2007
30"x13.5" - Matt and Lynn Brown
My brother, Mike and his wife, Julie have a hillside backyard in San Anselmo, terraced with stone and covered with rows of Zinfandel vines. Each autumn, he makes the grapes into wine with our brother Matt, a winemaker. I've been wanting to paint grapes for some time. One July evening Mike and I spent with our cameras, the sun low in the sky illuminating the grapes in these outrageous colors. Matt tells us this time is called "veraison" when the grapes begin to change colors. I love that they don't change all at once. There is something metaphorical about this, like the way we change, in stages. This image I cropped from one of the photos that Mike took, the first I've painted from one I did not shoot. Of the dozens we both took, this one jumped out the most clearly as the one I had to paint first! This painting was accepted in the 2008 California State Fair in their Art of the Vine exhibit. And a giclee print won second place in the 2008 Marin County Fair Fine Art Exhibit.
Pomegranates, Jacinta's Garden
August 2007
22"x22"
At the end of my stay in France, October 1996, I traveled throughout Europe for two weeks with two of my brothers, Matt and Mike. We met my parents on the Croatian Island, Brac, where my grandparents were born. Brac is a rocky, arid island; the water is crystal clear and life is much less complicated than ours. One perfect afternoon we had lunch at my mother's cousin Jacinta's. She cooked us a special meal of potato gnocci with a rich meat sauce. These pomegranates were growing from a tree in her garden - with a gorgeous view of the sea and the mainland. Like the island, painting this one was rocky for me. Most of the time I was working on it, I really hated it. I experienced first hand about how the life of an artist takes discipline. Somehow I knew needed to stick with it and finally finished it on the first two days of a solo painting retreat in August. I kept saying to myself "this is like being in a difficult labor, this painting just does not want to be done." Whew! It’s DONE!
Reach!
July 2007
30"x22" - Original Sold
L'Hay les Roses is an absolutely phenomenal and overwhelming rose garden in a suburb south of Paris. I visited it one Saturday in June, several weeks after arriving in France in 1996. It had been gray and cloudy since I'd arrived. This was the first sunny weekend and I was buoyant and eager. The underside of this rose growing skyward caught my eye. I love interesting perspectives. Painting it I kept fretting that it was going to be a too-sweet, grandma painting, ugh. I painted the sky last. I had an awful time getting the even, clear wash I wanted. I was convinced I'd ruined it. Creative impulses were fed by my aghast and frustration. I got a 4" house painting brush out of the garage, moved outside on the patio table, painted standing up and just slapped on a lot more paint and water, dropping in new colors. The now on-purpose textured sky is deeper and the painting far more interesting than it would have been. This is a life-in-full-color sky!
Twin Dahlias
June 2007
22"x30" - Carol Hannon
This is painted from an image from my stay in France in 1996. I took a long weekend on my own in August to tour the chateaux along the Loire valley. There was an amazing garden exhibition near one of the castles that was fascinating. These dahlias were growing in one of them. I've been in love with the right side of the image - it's so full of motion. Painting it I became entranced by the light. Once finished, these two flowers evoked the spirits of my twin nieces: Kiersten and Nicole. One is face-first, full-out bold energy, the other a bit more reserved, thoughtful and mysterious.
Fauchon Eclairs
May 2007
22"x22" - Original Sold
I took this photo of these brightly colored eclairs in a fancy food shop called Fauchon on a trip to Paris in the late autumn of 2004 with my brother, Matt. When I saw the photo in the display of the camera, my first thought was "this would make a fun painting." Graphic, surprising, a departure - my first attempt to paint food - another of my passions! I was challenged by the reflections, wondering if I could render them accurately. I just did what I do, I painted what I saw. The reflections on the chocolate ones are actually light violet-blue. Ok, so I painted them light violet-blue. This painting won the blue ribbon in the aqua media category at the 2007 Marin County Fair and was accepted in a juried exhibition at the newly christened Marin Museum of Contemporary Art.
Apple Blossom Spring
April 2007
30"x22"
Our dear friends Dean and Nancy Hanson lived for many years in a sweet house with an even sweeter garden in Fairfax. I took this photo of their Gravenstein apple tree growing in their side garden. I just loved the configuration of the branches and the delicacy of the apple blossoms in full bloom. Of course, I'm also a sucker for back lighting! It seems most of the paintings I'm drawn to create contain some new artistic challenge. In this one it was white blossoms. I actually painted them first, as I had a hard time trusting that I could paint them to please me and did not want to paint the whole thing and then "ruin" it with badly painted white flowers. This is the least colorful of all the paintings I've done, so it's quieter. It speaks of trust, beginnings, becoming and it is anchored by the steadfastness of the giant sycamore tree.
Moonstone Rose
January 2007
22"x30"
One of the masters who inspires my work is Joseph Raffael. I get e-mail updates of his work. One day there was this message with a painting of pale roses with pink edges called "Roses Reverie" that knocked my socks off - and it kicked off a hunger in me to paint similar roses. Following this, I took photos of some Moonstone roses in my back yard, yet there just wasn't a composition of a group of them that worked. But this single rose did. I just loved the way that one petal curled out to the right. It turns out that this painting for me was all about the leaves and not so much the rose. Painting the light on the leaves was why I had to do this one. I left painting the bud to the end, (with most of my paintings I paint the "centerpiece" last) and it was actually anti-climactic. Now, when I look at this painting I see elegance and self-assurance, I think of the first two lines of one of my favorite poems: "St Francis and the Sow" by Galway Kinnell.
"The bud stands for all things, for all things flower from within of self blessing."
This painting was accepted in a juried exhibition at the Marin Society of Artists.
Persimmon Rain
October 2006
22"x22" - Brenda and Jeff Hernandez
On the street leading up to our house in Fairfax, there is a persimmon tree. Joe and I had been living there for several years and every fall as I went by it, I thought "I want to paint those persimmons." The fall of 2005 I knocked on the door and introduced myself to our neighbor Gen Racek, who was a spry 90 then. Camera in hand, I asked if I could take some photos of her persimmons. It had just rained, so I had the added benefit of water drops! That image just jumped out of the set of photos to be painted. The leaves were a challenge. I had no idea what I was doing. I just stayed with them, looked carefully at the image and painted what I saw. My dear friend Brenda fell in love with this painting even before it was finished. She says it reminds her of her deceased mother's love for her. The original now hangs in her dining room - it became the first painting I sold. Brenda's response to this painting and her support of my making art has propelled me forward as an artist.
Pink Plumeria
Summer 2006
22"x22" - Brenda and Jeff Hernandez
This painting was fun to paint and yet I could never find myself really satisfied with the outcome. It just looked like a overgrown tropical postcard. I had cut the photo as the background in the photo was just black. Introducing the leaves on the top section as I did, made it less than satisfying. I kept adding more shadows, and more colors in the leaves, changed the background. It still wasn't going to please me. My friend Brenda saw something in it, so she added it to her collection. We decided it worked better as a square painting, so I tore it and painted the edge. She framed it on chocolate colored suede and I'm amazed at how rich and beautiful it is.
Paris Roses
December 2005
30"x22" - Victoria Bentley
Itook this photograph of these roses that were hanging from a trellis in a rose allee in the Jardin de Plantes on a trip back to Paris, in late May, 1998. This was before I'd really begun painting in earnest. Yet, that photograph stayed with me. I had been wanting to paint it for a long, long time - in 2000, I did a few quick watercolor sketches, which showed me both the potential of this image and how painting these roses quickly was not going to be satisfying. It had frightened me to attempt to paint it - that the finished painting could never express what I felt looking at the photo. I started on the yellowish center rose, then left it lying undone for a while. I see now that I had to trust the process. When I came back to it, I just painted one petal at a time. And then it hooked me in - it couldn't wait to get time to work on it. Finishing this painting was a turning point. My courage and work had raised to a new level. This is the second of my paintings to sell. My friend Victoria Bentley bought it because of the way it moved her - just looking at a scan of it I e-mailed to her! She's building it into her website that supports women who suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. I am deeply honored by this acknowledgement.
Plumeria
Spring 2005
30"x22"
On October 2, 1998, six days after our first date, my husband Joe was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Thus began our love affair, simultaneous with his harrowing journey through cancer treatment. To mark the end of chemotherapy and to aid in his healing, the next spring we spent nearly two weeks on the island of Kauai - in my mind Hawaii's sweetest island. Since then, we go regularly to Kauai to re-generate our energy and spirits. I took this photo on one trip and painted most of it on another. I spend lots of time painting when we are there; there are many more tropical paintings in me wanting to come out! Although initially drawn to the blossoms, it's the leaves on the left part of this painting that really excite me now. They say to me: "thrive!" They are growth and strength and certainty.
Blue Door
April 2005
15"x22" - Illa Newman
I was on vacation with my parents just before my divorce in 1995 when I took this photo in Quarante, a small village in Languedoc where we spent a week. Those 12 days in France continue to be some of the best days I've ever spent on vacation, and I love being reminded of it by this painting. This was an attempt to paint in a looser, more impressionistic style. It was an interesting experience, and I wasn't sure I was happy with the resulting painting. A dear family member, Illa Newman saw this little photo in my journal at Marin Open Studios in May 2007. She asked about it. I was unsure about its appeal, so I had not included it in the show. I later took it to her and now, not only is it hers, but she has painted her front door blue! This painting evokes for her, her many visits to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. I love how my work brings people to places that I'd never anticipated.
Bud the Dog
April 2005
30"x22" - Tom Holden
Bud was my husband Joe's dog. He got him as a puppy. Bud was nine years when we met - he was the first dog in my life. This photo was taken when he was about twelve. We were on our regular walk up the hill near our home in Petaluma on a blazingly bright March morning. Just a few weeks later Bud developed arthritis and diabetes, making his world much smaller - no more walks up the hill. When I see this painting, I remember that time as his last good spring. This painting daunted me, I'd never painted anything but plants before. I did the whole background and then stopped for a long time. I picked it up and began painting his back and was very dissatisfied with what was happening. I abandoned it for too long to finish before he died at 14 and a half. I picked it up again while I was on a seven-day silent creativity retreat where I gave myself permission to just ruin it. I went to the painting each day, (silently) talked to my dog's spirit and brought him back through.
Full Circle
August - December 2004
15"x11" - My private collection
This is a deeply personal painting. In the late summer of 1995 I left a very difficult 14 year marriage. Days after leaving I wrote in my journal I wanted to live and work in Paris. The next spring I moved to Paris to work for a small software company for six months before helping to establish their San Francisco office. While there, one Saturday I was looking at a Victoria magazine that had been forwarded in my mail from home and saw a candle from a shop called Dyptique. I could see the address in the label on the candle in the magazine - it was a short walk from my apartment. I went that day and bought a rose-scented candle. When I came back to Marin, I was fortunate to be able to buy myself a little house in San Anselmo, where I planted many rosebushes. The candle had since burned to the end and the glass cup made a lovely little vase. I set up this still life one weekend and took several photos. Then I met my real love, my husband Joe, went through cancer with him, got married and later underwent fertility treatments. It wasn't until facing my grief at not being a mother, while spending a week at a wonderful spa in Mexico where I re-found my loveliness, that this painting came out of me. To Paris and back - to myself.
Roses for Annie
October 2004
22"x15" - Original Sold
This painting really frightened me. I think it was drawn on the watercolor paper for over a year before I put a brush to it. These roses were growing at the AARS test garden at Garden Valley Ranch in Petaluma. I have no idea what variety they are, or if they even became one. Annie is my sister-in-law. I was inspired by her fiery energy to paint these wildly detailed roses.
Nancy's Rose
2000
11"x15" - My private collection
This photo was taken in the garden at Dean and Nancy Hanson's home in Fairfax. It's the first thing I'd painted in many years, and the first of blurry photo backgrounds I'd attempted to paint. It's where I started to get real depth in my paintings. I saw how much more interesting it is to paint a flower in context. The fence behind this rose places it in space. The painting has a three dimensional quality to it. I learned not to use black watercolor because of this painting. I used black pigment in the bottom right corner and it looks sooty and flat. Now with the wonder of my newly learned Photoshop skills, I've warmed it up for the giclee prints!