Full Moon Rising

"Full Moon Rising," 9 x 12 acrylic on canvas panel

Look at the moon.

When I need hope for today, for a future, in these dark days of war and hatred, of discrimination and unfairness, of propaganda and politics, of inhumanity and hypocrisy, in  Ukraine or the United States or even Oklahoma, we need hope. When helpless amid war crimes against a country, or hate crimes against races, or political crimes against genders and religions and beliefs and words,  I treasure nature, and especially the moon.

No, it won't make any of those attacks on our humanity go away. But it's one light in the darkness that we need so much...a reminder that we are brief, that you can count on nature, that creation can be beautiful in spite of us. And that is hope.

Today's painting. No matter humanity or its lack of humanity,  the full moon will rise.

Remember Home?

"Homestead Memories," 12 x 12 acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas

Where did you grow up? Was there an old family home? 

I was thinking of that this past week as more than a half-million freedom-loving people were being driven from their homes in Ukraine. Their flight for survival means leaving possessions and memories behind as a Russian tyrant invades and commits war crimes. Real patriots are fighting  and dying for real freedom there.

Meanwhile, in America, spoiled, selfish and shallow so-called patriots, in convoys and on street corners and in public meetings are protesting vaccination and mask mandates as violating their cherished inconsequential "freedoms."  It would be laughable if it weren't so stupid and tragic. That tells you all you need to know about what's wrong with America these past very few years. 

This anger has been brewing inside me for longer than the Russian invasion, but the character and courage of the Ukrainian people contrasts so strongly with these people who are wrecking America. They're causing a ruckus over masks and then go home to their air-conditioned  homes. Pathetic.

It's time for Americans to remember what is important, like the old home place. I didn't know it when I started this painting, but it is in response to my emotional reactions to all of this.

Thoughts took me down Oklahoma's back roads, though small towns, seeing the many frame houses, some still occupied, others abandoned, all carrying stories and memories.

Thus the painting, palette knives and brushes. Soon available at In Your Eye Studio & Gallery at Paseo Arts District.

Snow Moon tonight

 

"Snow Moon," 5 x 7 watercolor

Snow is forecast. It was 70 degrees today, but a storm is swooping down the Great Plains.

By midnight, we could get rain, ice, hail, snow or tornadoes, or all of the above...it's Oklahoma and spring is still a month off.

But you can count on the stars coming out, and the full moon rises over the horizon----appropriately, named the Snow Moon.

Here's a little watercolor for the occasion, from my dreams and memories, after sitting on the back porch with a chiminea pinon fire.

Summer Dreaming

"Summer Dreams," 5 x 7 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

Winter weather can be beautiful, but the cold gets tiring. That's when I start dreaming of lazy summer days, with lots of green, blue skies and feathery clouds, where you're not cooped up inside.

So that's the story behind today's little painting, reverting to watercolor, with memories of being outside in rural life in Oklahoma and Iowa. Composition from a friend's photograph.

Time was

"Time was," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. d'Arches. Reference photo, Tailyr Irvine, N, Y. Times

 “All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; and the grass withers and the flowers fall,..." 1 Peter 1:24

'Tis the time of year when perhaps we think about our invention, time, time passing and time coming, though the Jewish and Christian God is only present tense, "I am that I am."

Another year, a human invention,  fades with memories, a new one is now, and looms, as does another birthday.

Thus today's watercolor, the first of the year, on the Great Plains, as I think of  times, seasons, grass and the rest of creations unaware of time, just now.

Holiday Hope

"Holiday Hope," 5 x 7 acrylic on card

This little painting  appeared in the Oklahoma Journalism Hall of Fame December newsletter as a Happy Holidays piece. Thanks to Joe Hight for the request, and I decided to try something new, on deadline.

 Sometimes a title just appears at the very end. Mailbox, sure. Snow, definitely. Cabin, naturally. What to call it? 'Tis the season, so there's a little double meaning here that also appeared.

A Willa Cather sky

"Willa Cather Sky," 8 x 10 acrylic on canvas panel

"The sky was as full of motion and change as the desert beneath it was monotonous and still, — and there was so much sky, more than at sea, more than anywhere else in the world."

“Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky.”

            --Willa Cather, Death Comes for The Archbishop

"Out here there's the sky," is my mantra as I paint. It's no wonder, when you grow up in the Southwest or live in Oklahoma,  Texas,  or elsewhere on the Great Plains.

Thus this painting today.

Journeys--from "dust" to "dust"

"Journeys," 5 x 5 acrylic on canvas

"From dust to dust," seems mortal to us earthly beings, especially as we age, and when we lose loved ones and friends.

But just maybe, considering science, since our bodies are made from the atoms of the universe, stardust, then was we grow older, thinking about eternity, the phrase takes on a completely different connotation, from stardust to stardust.

And maybe, considering the spiritual, for those who are spiritual and think there is more than earthly dust, as we complete more journeys, the phrase speaks of eternity, from whence we came to which we go.

Thus today's painting, a turquoise ladder,  journeys from "dust"  to "dust."

I've been familiar with the actual and spiritual ladders of New Mexico Native Americans for a long time, in the pueblos and kivas.They are practical, and icons of the Southwest, and much more.  But a special gratitude for some of the inspiration of this painting goes to Steven Charleston.

 A Choctaw elder from Oklahoma and  retired Episcopal bishop, he is the author of "Journey to the Light," adopting the symbols of the kiva and ladders for our spiritual lives in these tumultuous times. I recommend you read it for your journeys, regardless of beliefs. He also posts a brief meditation every day on his Facebook page. It begins my daily journey with wisdom and hope.

The painting will soon be available at In Your Eye Studio & Gallery in The Paseo Arts District.

Season of Change--November and my art

Acrylics and oils

My November art show at @Inyoureyestudio&gallery in @PaseoArtsDictrict in OKC opens tomorrow, and the title is no accident. November is a season of change, but I'm in the midst of change too.

I've been experimenting, teaching myself, learning, and having fun with acrylics, branching out from watercolors, where, according to my wife Susan and god friend don Drew, I was stuck. Time to try something new.

Mini-Acrylics--5 x 5

 I've learned much in the  past couple of months, most of it fun and challenging, but also daunting and sometimes frustrating because I'm not sure what I'm doing. Advice from other artists has helped but mostly, it's been trial and lots of errors. 

Watercolors ....from Oklahoma and the Great Plains

I will not forsake watercolor, because acrylics have added to my appreciation of them and taught me much about letting go, trying new things. And watercolors have taught and influenced my work in acrylics. The differences are many, in techniques and properties, but composition and light and color apply.

Watercolors...To New Mexico and beyond

So the show at the gallery, where I'm one of 11 member artists, features more than 50 paintings, most of them watercolors, but also several recent acrylics and a few oils. Season of change indeed.

Oklahoma Homestead

"Oklahoma Homestead," 16" x 20" acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas

The "home place." "Homestead."

Words that take on more meaning that just "home." They speak of memories, generations, families, hard work, history, roots in the land, landscapes, rural living. And certainly of life in Territorial Oklahoma.

Those were some of my thoughts as I undertook this painting, the largest I've done in a long while, and certainly the largest in acrylics. 

Again, it is a work in complementary colors, blues and yellows, oranges and purples. You will notice that in all my recent work. I don't know why, except it just seems natural. There is also a healthy dose of earth colors--umbers, siennas, and oxides, which is fitting given the subject of homestead.

Soon to be exhibited, beginning in Paseo Arts District's First Friday, November 5, art walk in my November show at In Your Eye Studio & Gallery.

Autumn colors

"Autumn winds," 11 x 14 acrylic on canvas board

The favorite season is here, even with mixed up weather in Oklahoma and elsewhere Depending on where you live, the colors of Nature in change add texture and memories as every day grows shorter.

Today's painting captures that season, I hope. The largest I've attempted in acrylics, taking chances, learning, having fun painting on the back porch. Study in complementary colors, and a barn, again. Brushes and palette knives. A little tinkering left tomorrow (that road is just too straight).

Soon to be framed, and available at In Your Eye Studio and Gallery in Paseo Arts District.

Season of colors

"Sunflower Season," 5 x 5 acrylic on canvas

Autumn...season of colors, nature's paintbrush, the most beautiful time of year.

We think of our lives differently, of aging, of approaching death, and rarely of the color of our lives. Perhaps we instead should draw inspiration from nature, that these times should also be our most vivid, most full of the beauty of life.

I especially love the colors of Aspen and Cottonwoods in New Mexico, in the strata of the Southwest, and of the brilliant hardwoods changing in the upper Midwest and New England.

Yet I only have to glimpse the roadsides of Oklahoma for more of the colors. 

Thus today's acrylic painting, sunflowers. My lesson to my autumn self. Available soon at In Your Eye Studio and Gallery in Paseo Arts District.

 

When the Spirit Moves you

Getting started, 5 x 5 acrylic on canvas board

Sometimes you need magic, something beyond the ordinary to move you to breathe, to think, to live, to create.

Trying to come up with a composition for an Oklahoma landscape today lead down empty roads on the Great Plains, and into my imagination.

I, and countless others have painted bison, the iconic symbol of the American West. I will do so again, on a larger canvas. But today I ran across photos and articles about the Native American spirit bison, the White Buffalo.

So here's the start. Much more to come, out of the mist of snow and the past and spirits.

The Season of Green

"Season of Green," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

"Green Leaves of Summer," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

 Greens are not my favorite color, but...

Don't know why. Only one room in our house has green walls, a muted green at that.

It's odd, since I grew up in the arid Southwest, in New Mexico, you'd think green would matter more to me.

Yes, green stands out in that landscape, because green occurs where there's moisture, water, source of life. But then, so is green.

I am attracted to all shades of turquoise, including the green, but blues are my favs, as you can tell from most of my paintings. There are five blues on my palette, and I rarely have any greens, because you can mix almost any green with yellows and blues.

But as August deepens, and the heat will soon turn much of our landscapes a brown, I was thinking of that favorite song, them of the movie, The Alamo, "The Green Leaves of Summer."

Another connection especially for us Okies is the song "Green Grow the Lilacs." While on a fellowship in France in the late 1920s, Lynn Riggs wrote the play "Green Grow the Lilacs." It provided the basis from which Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II created the musical "Oklahoma!" Riggs was inducted into the Oklahoma Hall of Fame in 1948.

I remember long ago, heading south from Iowa in the spring, we could see the country getting green and greener the further we went. Springtime, then summer, the season of green.

Much of our country, and parts of the world,  is burning up, literally already, and green is disappearing.

It's no wonder that green is a symbol of life, of spring, of rebirth. We should all be concerned too, about deforestation...especially in the Amazon. Green represents the lungs of the planet. No green, no oxygen. The Amazon produces 25 percent of the oxygen on earth, and if it is destroyed, as is happening, which 25 percent of humans will suffocate?

It's another reason I love that passage by Joseph Conrad in Heart of Darkness, where he is going up the Congo in the middle of the jungle:

"Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the the earth and the big trees were king. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest."

So here are two watercolors for today, color studies in green, one with green colors from five tubes and two yellows, and the other five blues  and two yellows,

Grapes of Wrath weather

"Grapes of Wrath weather," 5 x 7 watercolor

 
August bears down on Oklahoma tomorrow like the glaring sun and 100 degree heat do have done for several days, with more to come.

Water and air conditioning consumption soars with the heat, and yet, we're soft and comfortable compared to...

Weather like this reminds me of the classic opening chapter of Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath. I used that to teach descriptive writing a few years ago, because it is not fiction, but specific, sensuous fact, garnered from detailed observation.

You're supposed to paint what you feel, your reaction to what you experience, not what you see, and today, the heat, the sun all made me think of those lines in Steinbeck's novel.

So here is the last watercolor of the month, my feelings, inspired by the heat and those lines.

The moods of rain

"Rainy Day<' 5 x 7 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico rough press 

Today I heard Willie Nelson's plaintive voice singing "Blue eyes crying the the rain."

Rain brings many moods, and memories of as many songs to me. And the Bible is full of references to life-giving rain.

As the skies clouded up again today, with more rain promised, several of them ran though my head, some romantic,  some nostalgic, a few happy, and many more sad.

When you grow up in the arid southwest, you always notice rain, and look forward to the building clouds and rain of the early fall monsoon season. Those too bring memories and moods.

Much of the country has had too much or too little rain this year. Here in Oklahoma, on the eastern Great Plains, I'm thankful for the cooler temperatures, and abundant rainfall...and the multiple memories.

Today's little watercolor, out of response to those memories and moods.

After the rain

"After the Rain," 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico rough press paper

When it rains on the Great Plains, you can see it coming, hear and feel it when it hits, and smell it as the clouds recede across the far horizons, leaving the landscape soaked.

The storms usually build in the afternoon and evenings, when the atmosphere and light and color is most dramatic.

On the plains in Oklahoma and Texas and elsewhere, except when the weather turns violent, rain is always welcome. Clouds on the horizon bring hope and action to a sometimes monotonous landscape. 

Today's watercolor comes from a memory of those times, and a study in complementary colors.

Redbud season

"Redbud Season," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artisitico cold press

Everywhere you go these days in Oklahoma, one color stands out. Stands out against the greening trees, other bare branches, the coming spring.

Redbuds.

We've lost six trees to ice and cold this past year, and it's time to plant a redbud.

April has not been a good month for me, in painting, or in blogging. No excuses, but driving around, and shopping in a nursery does help. In the meantime, here's today's little impressionistic watercolor.

Country Road Springtime

"Country Road Springtime," 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico rough press paper

When it's springtime on the Great Plains in Oklahoma and other states, warm days bring clear skies with a few clouds and shadows over the gentle hills. Wheat and alfalfa begin greening, hawks ride the thermals.

Trees fill out, silhouetting small towns straddling country roads, leading from one horizon to the other.

It's a time to travel, at least in your imagination, in your memories, to the wide open spaces, free of the hustle and bustle and noise and traffic of urban life.

Today's watercolor.

That Lonesome road

"Look down that lonesome road," 5 x 7 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

Long ago I heard a song that seemed to draw me to faraway places, "Look Down that Lonesome Road."

 Years later, it's no wonder I love back roads, less traveled roads, sparsely settled, free of traffic, roads that beckon you, speak of discovery around the next bend or over the hill, especially in New Mexico, Oklahoma or Texas where there are plenty of wide-open spaces

I looked up the song and found it is a 1927  with music by Nathaniel Shilkret and lyrics by Gene Austin, written in the style of an African-American spiritual. 

Thus today's little watercolor, the first of March, after an earlier failure where I was too uptight to be traveling that road. 

Here are two you tube. links to the song, if you wish to add some music to the watercolor..

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzgKyDLSUdc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMbNkyTCTG8