Stories of the last books of the year

Early this month I thought I was through reading books for 2019, but that was before I again browsed  at Edmond Best of Books one day.
I'd forgotten I ordered N. Scott Momaday's novel, House Made of Dawn, and went to pick it up.
I've had an autographed copy of his In the Bear's House for years, but was inspired by the recent documentary Words from a Bear which aired on PBS, and was co-produced by colleague and friend Dr. Desiree Hill, of the Mass Comm Department at UCO.
I am enthralled by the poetic and descriptive power of this book, largely set on the Jemez Pueblo lands of northern New Mexico. I've been there and see and sense the story and country. I will finish it this week, going slowly because the words deserve savoring.
But back to browsing, I found two other books. The first, Embrace Your Weird, by Felicia Day, is a creative self help book, guide, workbook. I'll finish it too, though it demands much thought and work scribbling on the exercises.
that will make 36 books this year.
The other book, The Essential Lewis and Clark, edited by Anthony Brandt caught my eye, because I'd never red the journals. Just into it, but captivated by their description of life just over 200 years ago. And it sets your wanderlust travel fever going.

Today, I found and started reading my dad's old book, How to Paint with a Knife, from 1971. I have most of his art books, and as I've started dabbling in oil this year, my late-in-life DIY Art School needs are increasing. This was also prompted having bought the late Regina Murphy's palette and painting knives as well as acrylics and other materials in February in the Paseo Arts District. See link: Inspiration for change.
The knives are in my studio/office, reminiscent of my dad, and they beckon me to use them.
Those two books will go into my 2020 journal as the first books for the new year. Stories to tell.

Inspiration, preparation, perspiration, composition, and education

Jemez Pueblo sandstone, 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb. d'Arches cold press

Success. I'm happy with this painting.
Commissioned by a colleague and friend, it has to be almost perfect. First attempt was not a failure, but without sufficient inspiration, preparation, perspiration and composition. But it provided the education, and confidence to try again.
It's been brewing and stewing for a week now, and now I think I have it. But I bet I try again, with another composition. Such is the magnetism of New Mexico, watercolor, and a friend's request.

Story of a painting

Rock of Ages at Jemez Pueblo, 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb. d'Arches cold press

Paintings, like writing, need to stew and brew for a while. This reddish sandstone formation caught my eye  in New Mexico a little over a year ago, and then I saw another photo of it taken by a UCO student.
I painted a small card in December and then last month another. You can see it at lower right. 

The stew is brewing, but takes more ingredients.
Value and composition sketches. Color experiments.
The maxim in watercolor is plan long, paint fast, and I usually don't take enough time planning, and paint too fast.
This time it was slow going both in planning, and in painting. I usually paint the sky first, but learned from this that I need to reverse the order because of the dark sky. But magic did happen in a few happy accidents here, and I gained some freedom and license in composition to move beyond the photographs.
I'm happy, but not satisfied with this, as it has been commissioned by a colleague, and will try again, reducing the foreground--which is usually my nemesis, and increasing and improving the sky. 
So the story will continue.

Small matters

Size matters, especially when small. Our art collection goes from coast to coast, including some others may have overlooked. They're also affordable, but valuable.

    A favorite watercolor of mine, bought in New Mexico is only 5 1/2" by 3  1/2" by an Indian artist named Menchego in New Mexico, with an Indian pot and bear fetish, which is special to me.

    Another watercolor, by Ted Scypinski, is just a 5" by 7, "Sunset shores," that we bought in Savannah last year.  And we have five  pieces by Oklahoma artists that fill niches on our walls, again, each telling stories in our imaginations.

These three 4 1/2 "square canvases are acrylic abstracts from my friend and chess playing partner, John Lawton, and hang in our entry way.  We've also bought a 3/12" by 2 1/2" pastel, Western Oklahoma, by Adelante! Gallery owner Cynthia Wolfe (where my watercolors hang in Paseo), and a 3/12" by 5 1/2" oil from Sue Rogers, also in Paseo, "New Mexico storm." It has to be a special oil for me to consider it, since I grew up watching my dad paint western landscapes. Each of these reek of storytelling and imagination.

Western Oklahoma

New Mexico storm

In addition, my uncle Mike gave me this tiny, about three inches at most, stone sculpture of two seals from Alaska, done many years ago by an Eskimo student of his at the Indian Arts Institute in Santa Fe.
    And since I started this post with a mention of bear fetish, here are two more. I bought the 2 1/2" by 3"  pottery brown bear from Jemez Pueblo Indian J. Tosa when visiting his home at the Jemez  feast day and dances with Uncle Mike several years ago. I bought this 5 " by 4"  pottery bear fetish from Acoma Pueblo Indian C. Ortiz at the Santo Domingo Pueblo feast day and dances when I was there two Augusts ago.