Anticipation
Huge flocks of red-winged blackbirds returned this week on winds from the south. They flew over farm fields in a current of birds, wave after wave crossing the sky. These early migrants are always such a welcome sign, even though we have miles to go before spring arrives. In anticipation of that loveliest season, I painted this American robin’s nest to prepare for my upcoming workshop series, Painting the Colors of Spring. The first session focuses on Earth colors—a nice way of acknowledging “mud season,” while also paying tribute to the bird… Read More
Walking
I’ve been walking nearly every day lately. Typically, it’s the same two to three miles of country roads, past scattered houses, young woods, and farm fields with sweeping views. The sameness of the route makes it easy to spot unusual things. This week, I was treated to a small flock of snow buntings foraging in the stubble of a corn field at the edge of the road. I love seeing these birds of the high artic and consider myself lucky when I do. Although they are not rare, they aren’t around every… Read More
Progress Unfolding
Many thanks for all of your kind notes and best wishes for a swift recovery from my broken wrist and surgery. The outpouring of support was such a nice gift amidst this trying time. I am so pleased to report that surgery went well and my hard cast was swapped for a removable brace last week. I’ve started OT and I have a lot of work ahead to regain range of motion and strength. While I’m thrilled to now be able to tie my shoes and use a fork with my right… Read More
Unexpected Break
The air was cold and crisp, the ice smooth as glass. Perfect for a family skating party. I wish I could say I was in the midst of landing a lovely spin or graceful figure eight, but I was merely trying to tell another skater that his laces were dragging when I suddenly hit the ice. I was able to get up and complete skating the counterclockwise loop to get off the rink, but I quickly realized that my right wrist was not looking or feeling good. Long story short, I must… Read More
December at Home
With snow yet to come and trees now bare bones, slate colored skies, tawny fields, and dun-colored woods dominate the landscape. Here and there, white pines tower above it all, making me think that that’s where I’d be if I were a bird in December. I’ve drawn the land around my home in different seasons, and I like the way using a grid with a variety of small vignettes helps me to convey a sense of place. Looking back, August and September were certainly more colorful and January brighter, but I do… Read More
November’s Nest
I spy the nest in a thicket at the edge of the field. There’s no way to reach it but to wade in. I follow an old deer trail that takes me part way, and then battle brambles, thorns, and waist-high goldenrod stems to reach the prize. Unlike many nests at this time of year, this one is still quite intact. Whoever wove it did a beautiful job. Tips and Techniques– I always do some research about my subjects, especially nests. Like identifying birds, identifying nests requires a process of elimination. At… Read More
Out of Season
Usually, I would bring you beach finds in summer, when freshly found and still holding a hint of sea and salt air. But here they are in November, a collection of small treasures that I pulled out for my latest Drawn to Nature class. I used them to illustrate ways to record discoveries and layout sketchbook pages when out exploring. Like a puzzle whose picture is revealed only when complete, these types of pages are built piece by piece and end up capturing a particular place or moment in time. So, though… Read More
Grounded
After the grand display of autumn’s boldest colors, the leaves come down. One by one they fall, by day and night, in windswept flurries and slow-motion descents. I collect a sample of oak, maple, beech, hickory; trying to preserve the quickly fading splendor. But in the turning of the season, all is not lost. The Earth is grounded in beauty, change, quiet, and renewal…and so are we. Tips and Techniques– I always think that painting leaves will be easier than it is. There must be a way to simply splash bold colors… Read More
Noticing
Sometimes, painting is about the obvious things: the beauty that’s right in front of you, bold colors, compelling light, big picture views. But more often for me, it’s about the things you might pass by: the subtle, the small, the imperfect. Learning to notice is more important than pencil, paper, or paint. I had ample opportunities to sketch both bigger views and subtleties when in Maine recently. Which is more compelling to you?
Blue Mussels on a Rainy Day
October in Maine: a gift. As lovely and as simple as blue mussels on a rainy day. As steady as the ocean lapping on shore, loons calling their lonesome cry from the expanse of blue. As surprising as a pair of kingfishers rattling in flight across a cove. As beautiful as flames of crimson and gold maples and burnt sienna salt marsh hay glowing in the sun. Today, I send you the mussels. More gifts to come.
Drawn In 