I went out to work in the Hermitage early this morning but it quickly got hot and I was back inside around 11 after working a few hours.  I decided to deal with some household tasks, instead of trying to force some kind of solution on the painting I was working on.  Or anything else....


The household tasks involved picking chicken already cooked, cooking 6 zucchini, packing chicken and zucchini for the freezer, putting it all away, washing up, making lunch, washing up....


The heat is bad enough but the high humidity makes everything more uncomfortable.  The heat and humidity bring on my arthritis pain, which feels like hot coals in my right knee and right hand.  It could be worse; I'm grateful it isn't.  But low-grade pain is making my mood cranky and aspirin is making my stomach cranky; I don't feel like doing any more work.  I'm consoling myself that I put in those few hours.  Perhaps I'll feel more like going back for another session later in the afternoon.


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Yesterday was pretty much the same as today.  I spent the afternoon with my computer in my bedroom next to the A/C.  I pulled up individual photos of the paintings I'm working on into Word and wrote a brief description of each plus some other information.  It was all improv, 1st thought in my mind....   I have more to go, but it was a good way to legitimately spend time working on my summer project without actually being out there actually painting.  And if this series starts shaping up it will be good to have the notes.  In recent days, it's all been somewhat overwhelming and I haven't been feeling all that positive.  Attributing much of the sense of restlessness and frustration to the immense heat, humidity & nagging arthritis pain.  


I think it's time to water the garden and then consider taking a nap.

At a little after 11am, the temp is 80 degrees and rising.  It's pleasantly cool in the hermitage and there's a gentle breeze.  The sky is innocent blue with cottony clouds drifting wispily across the sky.  The brook is singing, the birds are singing and it looks to be a pleasant summer day.  Things are quiet and peaceful in the 'hood' as well.  There've been few passing cars or people.   


This past Saturday I removed some of my things that have been stored at my mother's, in her garage attic.  I knew there were 2 soda crates filled with past paintings, had no idea that I'd discover 3 more soda crates, also filled with paintings.  I'm feeling semi-overwhelmed by the load of stuff I brought home.  


The original 24 paintings I discovered in my sister's barn -- the ones that prompted me to head in the direction of spending my summer working on them in my garage -- are coming along well, so I've been spending what little bits of work-time repairing a few of those 'newer' old paintings.  


The painting I worked on this morning is from my 'Vermont Era.'  The subject is 2 apple trees in a field that was behind the house I lived in then.  In the distance is Jay Peak.  Memories of that time are flooding back as I work on this painting.  There's much to process in my mind.  As far as painting goes, what I've been doing is re-stating;  I've started that process by mixing a neutral from Ultramarine Blue and Burnt Sienna + Titanium White, then strengthening (or weakening) mid-tones and darks.

Friday, June 29, '12


I'd hoped that this morning I'd have been at work very early -- I was aiming for 7am.  I'm eager to get in as much studio-time as possible between weather conditions and outside obligations.  My time in upcoming days is spiked with Obligations and weather forecasts showing high temperatures & a possibility for a thundershower all of those days, so hard to plan.  This morning, when I got up at 6:30am, it was raining, so onto Plan B.


Which was to prepare a huge of amount of chopped kale and other salad items into a generous Kale Slaw to donate to a Benefit Dinner I'm attending late in the afternoon.  I'm planning to be there at 5 -- so,  much daylight where I'd rather be painting....  And another picnic tomorrow night where I plan to arrive at 6 -- also much daylight time where I'd rather be painting....  And a dinner obligation on Monday, and a lunch obligation on Tuesday -- and all at times when the light may possibly be good and I'd rather be painting.   I want to attend to all of these obligations,  they all bring joy in the anticipation.  I've learned that Conflicts such as these -- and the friction produces positive energy -- creates a field of possibility -- my choice/the will of The Universe.  


So, at 10am, with the sun shining and no rain, my energy is concentrated on being in the moment and deriving great pleasure from the many wonderful things around me, giving thanks that I'm here in the Now, in this place and time -- and I have 3 or 4 hours to do my work before going on to the next.


Birds are singing over the constant sound of the running water in the brook.  The sun is warm and I'm in the shade of my hermitage, looking at leaves swaying on the trees, a shadow falling across a roofline, pink petunias in a hanging planter hanging off an upstairs porch rail and all of this under a grayish-blue sky that, although blue, seems to be covered with gauze.  I hear an occasion car or truck pass by on the street but when they're gone, only the singing of the brook and the birds.


I'm pleased with the way The Work is going up to this point.  It is a very interesting process -- a process of discovery/renewal, me of now reinterpreting, re-stating, reiterating the me of then and an on-going dialogue growing between we two.  

June 9:  In mid-April, I discovered 3 garbage bags filled with unfinished oil-paintings.   Seven or eight years ago, I'd set them aside in order to deal with a family crisis.  I'd completely forgotten about them until my sister pointed out the garbage bags to me and asked me to remove the bags from her barn, where they'd been stored.  Had she never decided to move & clean out her barn and house, I don't know if I'd ever have remembered them.  


As I looked at each painting, I was filled with a sense of wanting to finish them and I gave that sense a lot of thought during the week before I went back to remove the paintings.  The major problem to finishing each one is that I don't want to work on them in my already crowded living space.  My studio space is the 2nd bedroom in my 2 bedroom apartment and that is already filled with on-going projects.  My living room is filled with on-going watercolor projects.  I didn't want the added mess or the toxic odor of painting in oils.


In the economic crises of the past 4 or 5 years, I've sold little of the art I have.  I don't really have the money for supplies to start anything new, nor do I have the desire, so have spent the last year finishing the many watercolors I've begun and then set-aside.  A few weeks before discovering the oils in the garbage bags, I'd finished some 30 paintings & was looking for a new project.  It somehow seemed auspicious to me -- the discovery of the oils semed to me the finger of The Universe pointing me in a certain direction.  I went through my oil painting supplies and found that although dust-covered, my supplies were ample.  One morning during the week, prompted by reading about the latest #Occupy news on Facebook & by that same Universe, the thought came to me that since summer and good weather (hopefully) are coming, I could use my garage as a summer studio.  


Using my garage as a summer studio made perfect sense to me.  I support but am not about to #Occupy Wall St in person.  Understanding the introvert I am, I've been concentrating on #Occupy My Life as well as Save money on Gas -- stay home.  


My garage is basically an unappealing place; I only use it in winter, when it's some protection to my car.  It's more like a shed, attached to a 2 car garage.  The 2 other tenants in my house have much better garages.  The roof on mine is rotting & covered with live & growing weeds in warm seasons, the floor is dirt covered with gravel, water runs down the back wall and the one inside wall when it rains and there's an ever-present funky odor -- probably the rotting roof, maybe a dead squirrel -- and is pink.  I've always called it Little Pink, rather than Garage.


The appeal to using my garage as a summer studio is that half of it is dry and I can store my easel, chair, supplies and canvases in that area.  The light is always good.  There's a brook running down the culvert behind my garage and the sounds of it are sweet.  There are many trees in my neighborhood and lining the culvert behind the garage and there are always birds in the trees, so much bird-song in these spring months.  On sunny days, I pull all my supplies out into the driveway and work in the sun.  On rainy days I can set up my easel at the opening, in the dry half.  There's no electricity, so I can't work at night nor can I set up an electric heater; my work on the forgotten paintings is Weather Permitting & daytime hours only.  I'm within range of my wireless router, so can take my computer with me.  Most of the time I don't because I prefer the hours of peace and quiet listening to the brook, the birds and sounds from the street.  


I love having a place to go where the distractions are few.  When I work in the house, I'm constantly distracted by the mundane and necessary housework; cooking, washing and on and on ad infiitum.  My summer studio is simple and the distractions are few.   When I need a break from painting, my garden is easily acessible and when I need food or a pit-stop, my house is close-by. 


My goal, regarding these forgotten paintings and my summer studio, is to work on them with an aim to finishing them by autumn, when I will no longer be able to work outside.    


This blog is intended to keep track of my process and progress and things inbetween.