After Mary Oliver
“My work is loving the world.” So begins the poem Messenger, by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver, who died this week at the age of 83. Oliver delivered intimate observations of nature and deepened our understanding of life’s essence in few, choice words. “Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird— equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums…” And though there were no hummingbirds or sunflowers to be found here yesterday, I nevertheless felt compelled to walk down the starkly cold winter road in honor of Mary Oliver and to… Read More
Celebrating 3,000
When I started this blog in the spring of 2014, my goal was simply to share my artwork more widely. Nearly four years and 238 posts later, I’m thrilled that more than 3,000 people are now following. Keeping a blog is journey unto itself– I’ve met people I would never know otherwise, swapped stories and art tips, shared everyday experiences, and received much kindness from strangers around the world. Drawn In has also honed and focused my artwork, and motivated me to keep seeking, recording, and sharing the ordinary beauty around me. Many… Read More
Quick Chickadees
When I’m pressed for art time, I like to come up with a subject that I can work on in short takes over several days. Such has been the case lately, so I decided to revisit a sketchbook page that I did several years ago. In 2014, I painted a number of chickadees on a single journal page using pencil and watercolor. I’ve always liked that page, so I decided repeat it— this time on toned paper using only a pen and a bit of white colored pencil for highlights. This exercise… Read More
Along the Roadside
Yesterday was the kind of day I’ve been waiting for since winter arrived unexpectedly in November. Temperatures climbed above freezing, which felt almost balmy, and I spent nearly the entire day outside. After the oak leaves were raked and the remaining daffodil bulbs planted, I headed into the fields and down the road with my sketchbook. Shriveled wild grapes, thorny tangles of multiflora rose hips, and climbing vines of bittersweet not yet eaten by birds offered a bit of brightness against bare branches and brown grasses. They seemed the perfects things to… Read More
November Field
The treachery, at last, too late, is plain; Bare are the places where the sweet flowers dwelt. From November, by Helen Hunt Jackson An early snow took me by surprise. Not that I hadn’t heard the forecast, just that I wasn’t ready to give up fall. The fields still held a bit of green, there were leaves yet to rake, and 20 daffodils to go in the ground. Alas, that was before. Now, the ground is white but for a scattering of russet oak leaves, and the season of browns and blues… Read More
The Beauty of Small Things
Dragonfly wings. Striped antennae. Subtle grays. A size 0 brush. There is beauty in these small things. But also in the thoughtfulness of a student entomologist who sent me part of her insect collection because she knew I would enjoy painting it. And I hope there is a measure of beauty returned when I send her the finished painting. (Click to view larger) Tips and Techniques– If you are painting something very small like butterflies, moths, dragonflies and the like, pay attention to the edges of the wings and body. The cleaner… Read More
Ireland, Part 2: Embrace the Weather
The weather in Ireland is notoriously changeable– sunny skies turn overcast and give way to misty rain within an hour’s time, and may just as quickly change back to clear blue, only to fill with rain again by day’s end. Unless, of course, it’s steadily raining, in which case, it will likely rain all day. This makes sketching in Ireland a bit of a challenge, but it also adds drama to already dramatic landscapes. The sketch of Dunmore Head on the Dingle Peninsula is one of my favorites. I had seen this… Read More
Summer’s End
It always sneaks up too fast. Dark creeps in earlier each evening; the woods go silent; swallows gather on the power lines, then vanish. I was happy to fit in a final weekend at the ocean, where it was still plenty warm for one last swim. A row of kites fluttered overhead. Yellow primroses bloomed at the edge of the dunes. But flocks of sandpipers chasing the waves amidst late-season beach-goers were a sure tell of the season’s turning, as were the multitude of bright orange-red rose hips ripening in the sun…. Read More
Mushroom Explosion
Call me obsessed. I probably deserve it. I have spent nearly every evening this week painting nothing but mushrooms, buying field guides, making spore prints, and staying up late trying to identify my finds. In my defense, a treasure trove is growing before me– new species emerging each day under the grove of oaks that line our driveway. And I know that the intense humidity and rain that brings them out, all too quickly turns them to mush. In the end, my obsession stems from being astonished: I have recorded an impressive… Read More
Drawn In 