giving thanks

When I started this blog, I gave up writing in my personal journals. If I were still at it, on this morning before Thanksgiving Day, I would note what unusual holiday weather we are having in Washington state. Sunny and crisp while much of the rest of the country is suffering wet, cold and wind.

I would write that this will be the last of the twenty-six Thanksgiving dinners we have had in this house and that I am thankful that both daughters and husbands and our two funny, smart grandsons will be with us. I would mention that our two sons can't be here because they will be working at the best jobs for each of them and that I am so thankful for their employment.

I am thankful for my sister and the telephone Whine Line, used throughout the year. That's my sister in the background of the photo above, at my last birthday. The turkey hat is a gift from my teenage grandson. I hope to take headshots this year of each family member wearing the turkey hat.

I am thankful for my health and the health of our family. Thankful for my husband Jay, Annie, friends, a warm, dry house. Thankful for the welcome my little paintings have received on my Daily Paintworks Gallery after my absence of five months. Thankful for the opportunity to make art and for those who support me in that endeavor. And, on and on...

As I write this, I'm getting a little distracted thinking about preparing for Thanksgiving. Today is the day I will make the blackberry pie, the Killer Cranberry sauce (which no one except me really cares about), and cube toast the freezer bread for the turkey stuffing.  I will look again at the brussels sprouts recipe that will be new for this year. Does anyone in this family, except an absent son, and probably the dog, even eat brussels sprouts? Make a list of what needs to be done and when, to make the whole thing come together. Clean the bathrooms. And, the refrigerator repairman is coming today.

To each of you, thank you for reading this blog. I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving.

Later: oops, apparently I spaced-out on my lattice weaving but I am thankful it didn't overflow.

sabbatical redefined

Well...yes, I'm on a sabbatical but maybe it isn't a painting sabbatical as much as it is a pressure sabbatical.

Until we finish our house building project, my galleries will be receiving fewer new works and I won't be entering juried shows. That takes the pressure off for painting larger pieces. (More about juried shows in a future post).

But today, I came across a few 7x5 inch oils from earlier this year that I left in the value foundation stage. And, because I'm taking year-end inventory of art supplies, I had to handle each tube of oil paint in my studio. Before I knew it, I found myself squeezing out a basic palette and PAINTING on one of the little foundations. Very fun! A few more tweaks and I'll be able to post this little painting, tentatively titled "Memory Lane," here and on my ART JOURNAL blog.

By the way, I'm once again adding work to my Daily Paintworks Gallery.  If a painting doesn't sell within a week on DPW, I move it to my Etsy Store, BBNewtonART. Today I realized prices on several pieces didn't get updated. Prices are correct now if you'd like to take another look for an inexpensive gift for yourself or a friend.

selfie

Every once in a while, an artist needs a new headshot. Especially me, especially now, because in September, I got my first haircut in 15 years! I thought nothing could be easier than pulling my hair back in a pony-tail. I was wrong. Here is my selfie from this morning, just out of the shower and still wet...this is what my great haircut does. Thank you Bonnie!

all things considered

Just as we look back and remember where we were the day President John F. Kennedy died - I was an art student working as a hairdresser - we also remember 9/11. On that day I was babysitting grandson Noah, celebrating the birth of grandson Elias the day before. All things considered, I would rather be my age right now than that 20 year old art-student-hairdresser or even that new grandmother.

On 9/11/2001 I was also working in colored pencil with good sales that dropped off dramatically as the nation's attention turned elsewhere.  My technique in that medium was slow and tedious. I used a sharp point, light touch and very small circular strokes. It was not unusual to have 80 hours into one painting. Now, when I look at the art from that time, I am very pleased with the work but, all things considered, I have to find new homes for it before I move to my new studio.

And so, that brings me to "All Things Considered," a colored pencil work that measures 16.25 x 16.25 inches and will frame with a mat to approximately 24 x 24 inches.  I have selected it to become the first of my collection to go to my Daily Paintworks Gallery online at a drastically reduced price. Please take a look by clicking here.

holy moly

The process of creating art is usually a solitary pursuit. Hours, days and months spent alone in the studio working to bring into being through paint or pastel, a credible illusion - my vision of a place or an idea. The goal is communication with others through my paintings. Spending days alone in this way suits me but occasionally I need a different form of communication. I want to be in the company of my peers. A peer group is defined as a group of people of approximately the same age, status, and interests. 

Fortunately, I have two resources to fill this need: a Critique Group and Women Painters of Washington (WPW). I can't remember exactly why I applied for membership. I think it was to have an additional venue to show my work, although over the last fifteen years, it is the camaraderie of this group of women that has been most important to me.

I spent yesterday at the monthly WPW meeting at Seattle Art Museum (SAM). The board meetings (any member can attend) are usually lively as we pursue the common goal of fulfilling the mission statement of this eighty-three year old organization. Lunch at SAM is next and always an enjoyable time catching up with friends. After the business portion of each meeting, we have an invited speaker. Sometimes I question my interest in the scheduled program; after all, I work in paint and pastel - how could the topic of printmaking hold my interest? Holy Moly, EVERY presentation, regardless of subject, has contributed to my enthusiasm and motivation to create art. In fact, I got so fired up after the talk on monotyping that I may have to try that. By the way, the phrase "Holy Moly" is an exclamation of surprise that dates from at least 1892.

Today I'm happy to be back in my quiet studio with Annie, who naps nearby until her morning walk. Being on a self-imposed painting sabbatical is an interesting experience. I am committed to let new painting ideas, exciting as they may be, simmer awhile. I'm setting aside my painting life for now but I look forward to continuing my mind's eye paintings and whatever surprises are in store for me at the easel next year. I want to say to Annie, "Holy Moly!" 

letting them go

For several years, my daughter has been reminding me that I am in my golden years. She says this when I haul brush or weed-eat for many hours at a stretch. I started thinking about my golden years: if I am really in them, what am I supposed to be doing?

This year, the day marking my seven decades of life was spent with the women of our family at our Women’s Weekend. Our first weekend together was when my daughter was fifteen so this one must have been our twenty-ninth. TWENTY NINTH! That is shocking. Time flies. I wanted to stop flying time. I thought if I wrote about it and then read about it in the future, it would be the same as slowing it down and living it twice. I didn't know then that what was so important in that moment would be so BORING the second time around!

I've kept personal journals since 1968. I imagined that when I reached my golden years, I would sit in my rocking chair and read about my life. Then, when I was done reading, I knew my daughter was going give the journals to my son or burn them instead of reading them herself. At first I was dismayed but recently I began reading the journals and they are BORING! I now see that the purpose they served at the time was for me to hear myself explain to myself what was happening so I could better understand the situation and feel some sense of empowerment in troubled times.

I am living the best time of my life right now. The things I worried about when I was younger are no more. My children are thriving, each in their own way. Having a twenty-dollar bill as my secret savings security has changed to a fat little envelope of twenties. And, I no longer wonder what will become of me because I have so many years to look back upon and I am pleased. Hey! These really are my golden years.

So, I have decided to stop writing in journals. In fact, I will be the one to burn my journal collection. That brings me to this blog because I still have a lot to say to myself and I thought some others might be interested in what really happens in the golden years. First secret is, there isn't a lot of rocking chair use, at least not yet.

Jay and I are embarking on a new project. We have found our dream property and are in the design phase of our new home, Mill Pond Cottage. I will keep a separate blog for that project with a link here.