In March of 2020, I began collecting flower pressings. I thought it would be a short lived pastime. Who knew I’d fill a book?
Now these petals, which chronicle the months, remind me that despite the standstill of time I continue to feel; the seasons will change. Blooms will appear again.
Five years ago, a yellow shafted northern flicker flew against the reflection of a building. I studied its markings and painted the macabre.
Most people know the check in one’s spirit that occurs upon finding a bird bereft of life. It isn’t quite right to see something which should be inflight asleep.
In a time before cameras, Audubon shot and killed the birds he painted and studied. And now those deaths on paper are coveted collections. Audubon himself took no pleasure in these killings and said, "The moment a bird was dead, no matter how beautiful it had been in life, the pleasure of possession became blunted for me." (Ornithological Biography, Volume 1)
Death is not foreign to me. I have known it as a reality. Life holds sorrows that sometimes come too early. And they shape us. Truly each encounter is significant and holds meaning. These experiences have taught me that death and grief are not an end but rather a tender step forward.
Through these fallen wings, I observe, learn and am able to speak.
P.S. Bird strikes are a very real issue impacting our planet’s bird population.
As the pandemic weeks have continued on, I intentionally chose a background in which I could lose myself in, silence the rhetoric and find a quiet space.
The grief I have felt is laced into this one. It is easier to paint than to find the words to describe the paralysis and deep sadness I have felt. Almost, as if stuck on a dilapidated fence observing a destructive political garden party.
Two local venues have a few paintings of mine on display this month! :-)
(Image taken from ArtFields® Instagram post)
The TRAX Visual Art Center is hosting Pause | Connect through November 14. I am honored to be included in this exhibition of local artists (Jennifer Altman, Jan Chenoweth, Colleen Critcher, Lynda English, Patz Fowle, Mike Fowle, Symon Gibson, Douglas Gray, Roger Halligan, Ashley Hamilton, Uschi Jeffcoat, Cornelia Joyner, Mary Ellen Judge, Milton Miles, Sarah Helen Mishoe, Julie Mixon, Tiffany Thomas, and Kimberly Washburn)!
If you live locally, I hope you will make time to visit and support these artists.
Seeing this exhibit in person is a completely different experience than seeing the images online.
The gallery is located at 122 Sauls Street, Lake City, SC. Gallery hours are Tuesday-Saturday 11am-5pm.
My painting Vainglory, next to the work of Jennifer Altman at the Trax Visual Art Center
Bean Bar is a local coffee shop which opened in July. I am pleased to be their artist of the month during October and part of welcoming their small business to our community. Check out their website to learn what they are all about. (https://www.beanbarsc.com/ ) I appreciate the incredible attention to detail they demonstrate.
Selecting works for Bean Bar was a journey down memory lane. While some pieces are current there are a few included from the moments where I first encountered watercolor. Looking back, it is the medium which has given my paintings a voice.
A few are available on my website for sale. Bean Bar is open Monday-Saturday 7am to 6pm. If coffee is your language, you will not be disappointed by a visit. (Not to mention, you will be supporting a small business during some unusual times!)
Both venues adhere to current safety protocols and request that you wear a mask when visiting.
“There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ‘tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come - the readiness is all.”
This quotation spoken by Hamlet created a new interest in the play for me. So, I watched an excellent BBC version featuring David Tennant as Hamlet last week in order to fully grasp the weight of these words. The green hardback covered Shakespeare Collection of plays which belonged to my parents was pulled off the shelf so I could read along as I watched.
The endeavor reminded me of listening to those records with story books, with the chime to turn the page. However, the Royal Shakespeare Company Production’s scenes did not follow the scenes directly, so there was much searching and page turning taking place on my part. But I loved it.
In high school I did a research paper on the messages of the birds in Macbeth. Funny, the way these birds appeared in my younger years.
In Hamlet some say through this statement he is nodding to Chapter 10 in the gospel of Matthew. He has moved from, “To Be or Not to Be” into an acceptance that some things are beyond control.
I see parallels in my world. Less than 6 months ago, I lived in a time and land of infinitives. To assume. To expect. To take. To be. To have. To do. To see. To travel. To go.
Barriers have fallen around the infinitives. A strangely constrained place of uncertainty has entered the scene which places us all under the wings of providence.
A few notes on the process behind this painting follow:
This 6” x 6”l painting was painted on aquabord. A monochromatic underpainting was applied. The decision to apply the cast shadow was made using tracing paper.
Color was then added, followed by wax medium. I love the texture found in the wax medium on the final piece. It is difficult to photograph and give this finished little bird justice so I have included a video of the process.
Applying wax medium over small watercolor on aquabord
watercolor with gold leaf
10” x 8” on paper
Charity currently wears a scarf or a mask, considering the well being of others. It works in isolation yet extends kindness as it hopes to protect.
This is an image of my sister, taken April of 2020. It is a study in monochromatic underpainting of watercolor within portraiture. I plan to create a larger scale version of it. It feels incredibly iconic to me and has a zeitgeist feel.
Christina lives in New York City. I live in South Carolina and my other sister in North Carolina. We are experiencing opposite ends of a pandemic’s spectrum. The differences are vast yet still linked.
UPDATE August 10, 2020
Below is the final painting completed from the study described in this blog post.
Zeitgeist
watercolor with gold leaf
22” x 15”
There is an often overlooked and very quiet Saturday which occurs between Good Friday and Easter. It is where the Silence of God is encountered. To me one of the most purposeful of the Holy Week Days and this year to me the most poignant.
It is where we grieve and we remember that hope is a thing with feathers.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.”
I’m working on an architectural painting. Not my usual rodeo. But she’s a story I drove by. The building itself is a bit of an architectural treasure to me. Possibly the only remaining Charleston Single Home original to the time still standing in Florence I’d pass her while traveling between schools last year.
I imagine at one point in time, someone else traveled a similar route to earn means through which to build this structure. Or was it handed to them, a result of another’s labor? Yet, now it simply sits, empty and unused falling into disrepair.
Watching the physical work of past generations fall to the wayside gives me pause. To me buildings in disrepair are scattered across the rural southern landscape in abundance. Like crops that were left to die. And I always wonder whose home was this? Why did they live here? Why are they gone? Was theirs a life of joy or sorrow? Who will tell their story?
Edit: April 6
fImages of competed piece..
