Little paintings made over the last five months

Studio, Wednesday Afternoon

I am nearing the end of the last large collage painting to be included in the Richmond show; a swath of paint near the bottom (painted on the wall, not sure of the color or shape yet, I only know what I want the shape to do in context) should conclude the work.  I will see more clearly when Chris and I return from a two day trip to South Carolina to pick up Alexander who has been visiting grandparents for the last three days.

I am anxious/excited to see this last collage on the wall in Virginia--as it will not have the lines of my studio's wood paneling.  Hopefully the negative spaces will hold up as I have anticipated. 

I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's mind.

Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time.  There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the island; for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs and rakish looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose.  It would be an easy map if that were all; but there is also the first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needlework, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into braces, say ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling your tooth out yourself, and so on; and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.

from the first pages of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

Studio, Monday afternoon

A good day back in the studio--listening a lot to Loudon Wainwright, Rosanne Cash, and a great interview with Quentin Tarantino.

Christmas tree at night

Pics from the past week of food and family...

Helmut Federle

At Peter Blum.

I just saw Avatar this afternoon.  I thought the movie was inordinately amazing--so over-the-top visually-incredible-I-can't-even-tell-you.

This image is not that in the least--but yet I long for this (the above.)  I want the painting in my world, and I am relieved it is in fact.

I am buoyed by the fact that Avatar and Helmut Federle paintings can both necessarily exist.

Judy Pfaff on paper

These are so wonderful I want to cry.

Walking (Blue and yellow lines)

Though the rest of the world in NC shuts down dogs still must be walked!  Benny and I braved the weather for two days....and had to walk in the middle of the road to avoid slipping on the ice.  Here we are right next to the yellow median.

Ice (line and grids)

Snow in North Carolina (2009)

 

 

We returned home to an impending snow storm.  All the bread, milk and eggs disappeared from the shelves.  All the schools and universities closed.  For two days the roads were quiet around our home. 

Alexander's sculpture

Not much art got made while we were away save for the sculpture Alexander made one evening while the older folk sat on the porch. 

Warm air (last week)

We spent some time in Florida last week--with my husband's aunt and uncle. 

Green Collage in progress still

The collage I worked on at Hambidge has changed quite a bit; I feel like it needed to be unspooled, reconfigured.  Now I am figuring out how to use the white of the wall and how to construct an internal section (which I think will be mostly black and white lines--cut up, shuffled, reconfigured).  I like the idea of a collision between the centrally located/explosions of earlier collage work with the erratic grids I'm employing these days.  Who knows of course--this is where I am today.  But the collage must be finished by the beginning of January as it's heading to an exhibition in Richmond, Virginia.  (eeeeek!!!!)

Black and white lines (working with)

Shape and color and growing things

I greatly admire people who grow plants (and keep them alive...).  Plants scattered about a home are one of the most aesthetically pleasing facets of a domestic interior--here are some pics from a gracious host's home from the past week's travel.  Her windowsills are stunning!