Very much looking forward to the opening reception (I will be there virtually) for the “Color Space” show at Lily Pad Gallery West in Milwaukee. Show opens March 4. Many thanks to Emma, Kitt, Kim, Alan and Terry for all the hard work planning the show!
Click to preview available work at Lily Pad Gallery Milwaukee
A few semi-warm days recently were great for melting inches-thick ice and melting icy snow, but not enough to convince me warmer days are near. Got a while to go before the warmth of Spring and Summer awaken the landscape. The Spring-like days earlier in the week did, however, shift my thinking that we’re over the hump of winter. The sun is slowly beginning to stay out longer, and patches of mint-green grass in the yard convey a sense of confidence that the light and warmth of summer isn’t far off. “Sunbeams” 24 x 24
I’ve explored my fair share of old abandoned buildings on my travels through the back roads of New England. Ever since I was a kid, coming across an abandoned old house, shed or barn, was an invitation to explore. There was an element of danger mixed with excitement that was irresistible. I don’t do much of that anymore, but when I encounter an old place, like this abandoned homestead in Vermont, the temptation to go in and see what’s there, what creature is now using this place as shelter, is just as irresistible. “Shelter” 24 x 20
A few miles from our house, on the outskirts of the old Colonial Village town center, an old shed sits above a tall berm created decades ago by the construction of the road it now overlooks. I see it often, almost entirely obscured by trees that have grown up the embankment…very easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. Having just cleared a good number of trees on my property, it’s amazing how removing a few opens things up, revealing your land in a different light (figuratively and literally). In this piece I also took a good number of trees down, leaving an equally good number standing…just enough expose the shed without too much disruption to the landscape. “Poplar Grove” 48 x 48
I love remote places…love being in the “middle of nowhere.” Visiting the rural town and villages of New England is often a great escape for those who live in cities. Friends who are self-described “city people” have commented that while they love escaping the city for a weekend in the country…they could never live there. One friend once said, when asked if she could ever move out of Boston, “never…I need to hear sirens to fall asleep!” I guess it’s what you grew up with. For me, the dead quiet of the countryside is what I prefer. I came across this place while driving through a small Massachusetts town. Much has been stripped out of the composition (old farm tools, junk, etc), leaving the essence of what felt like a very quiet, serene, place in the middle of nowhere. “Hinterland” 40 x 36
There’s a time of day, during late Spring and early summer, where shadows are cool and bright. Light reflecting off the new green of foliage, grass, and other vegetation, reflect light, and transfer a hint of their Spring color to their shadows. There’s never really any true darks in those shadows…as they are created both by light be blocked, and light being reflected. With a nor’Easter on the way up here in New England, seemed a good time for a reminder of what’s only a few months away. “Sunkissed” 34 x 34
The town just west of ours is Mont Vernon (yes, there’s no “u” in Mont). While it refers to itself as a mountain, it’s really not…more of a big hill. But in Southern New Hampshire, our hills are smaller than the monsters up North in the Whites…so the standards down here are a bit more relaxed. On a drive through Mont Vernon a couple years ago–a blindingly bright sunny day in early October–I passed this place, and was caught by the blast of bright sun on the old house. The light at the top of mountains (or big hills) is pure and often uninterrupted…and just seems brighter. This piece is both about that light, and our town’s neighboring “mountain”… “Mountain Light” 24 x 24
Someone recently asked about my use of color, commenting that it looks simultaneously “impossible” but “real” and that “it works.” Color is powerful, and we tend to associate colors with things, or actions (stop at red lights, go on green, skies are blue). In nature, colors aren’t always what they seem, particularly in different light. I like that observation, though…that the palette of a piece may seem impossible while also feeling real and that it works. “Highland Blue” 36 x 40
Woodstock, Vermont is one of the most beautiful, quintessential towns in the state. I’m lucky to be in a gallery there, and love every chance I get to visit. But more enjoyable is the trek there and back…as I tend to take back country roads that cut through valleys, along streams, and up mountain roads. Each trip results in inspiration. This location, a few miles south of Woodstock’s center of town, is up one of these mountain roads, and off of that a rocky, potholed road leads further up to a clearing where this complex of outbuildings revealed itself. These trips through the surrounding area reveal the true beauty of the state. “Outskirts” 24 x 24
Can’t remember where this scene was. I think in Vermont. I came across it years ago, somewhere, and did a pastel sketch with the intent of starting a canvas. Years went by. I came across the pastel recently and, seeing it with fresh eyes, felt it was worthy of committing to paint. While not much larger than the pastel itself, the finished piece captures the essence of the sketch, which is almost always the intention, though not always the outcome. The red trees in the sketch seemed they could use some amplification,which led to the piece’s name. “Redwood” 16 x 20
