Ozzie: Newman and Gray Senior Boatyard Dog

Ozzie: Newman and Gray Senior Boatyard Dog

Oil on Wood

8"X 6"
SOLD

Taking a break from Superman today, I turned my attention to a SuperDog. It just felt good to connect with a canine on this cold, crisp December morning. 

Sirius

Sirius

Oil on Wood

8"X6"

In memory of a great dog. For the Hetheringtons.

Murphy

Murphy

Oil on Wood

10"X10"

Looking Up

Looking Up

Oil on Old Canvas

8"X6"

On the spur of the moment this morning, instead of packing, I rounded up my friend and painter, Kristen Garneau, and darted into San Francisco to Paul Thiebaud Gallery to see Pam Sheehan's exquisite little paintings. Landscape, cat, dog, beach. Soft, dark, deep, personal. Everything I strive to be doing.

 Oh what a good idea that turned out to be. Kristen schooled me in color mixing, and how to make a good gray.  We both were so inspired we stopped at Blick Art to stock up on supplies. I came right home, mixed up grays and worked on this little painting which had been headed for the garbage. Discarded canvas, my favorite material. 

Things are looking up.

On the Couch at Kenwood

On the Couch at Kenwood

Oil on Wood

10"X8"

It took all day to come to this. Was it the getting rid of even more clutter? Or the doing of difficult tasks. Or maybe this morning's walk with a  friend. And then the reworking of a troublesome painting. This was my prize. At the end of the day. Fast. And fun. And full of life. Tomorrow is another day. 

Dog is a Dog

Dog is a Dog

Oil on Wood

8"X8"

Dog is a Dog is a Dog. And really. What more could you want?
Note to self. Be more like her.

Summertime

Summertime

Oil on Wood

8"X8"

...and the livin is easy. A little breakthrough for me and none too soon. Friday I went to artMRKT San Francisco and found a whole bunch of inspiration. Especially Rebecca Farr's Edge paintings. And two from Marion Tivital.  I could go on about the grayed color and close values and simple composition and contemplative feel of these works. But in the end, it all boils down to the same old thing. Do your own damn thing however you need to do it and drop the fear. Don't mind if I do.

Dear Dog

Dear Dog

Oil on Wood

6"X6"

Nap Time 2

Nap Time 2

Oil on Wood

6"X8"
SOLD

Oh to be a dog. To never question your worth. To love and be loved. And call it a Life.

Afternoon Nap

Afternoon Nap

Oil on Wood

6"X8"

Afternoon nap, or is it morning? How would you know? Could be anytime and any place that Rosie curls up in a circle of fur and settles in for a snooze. It's one of the great things about having a dog around.  The world's turmoil  dissolves in an instant,  just seeing her there, a reminder to calm down and dream a little.

Rosie on the Rug

Rosie on the Rug

Oil on Wood

10"X8"

The sun is back and it's the weekend. Setting off for Sonoma, having decided to pass on Open Studios this year. The studio is full of paintings about to be shipped to Maine. And dogs galore. If anyone wants to take a look before they go, stop by early next week. (Call first.) 

The studio is also filled with notes jotted down on scraps of paper here and there. Each a little inspiration coming from someone on the radio or in an article, or from my own mind. Having read Jane Brody's "Making Progress Against Clutter" article in Tuesday's New York Times, I am on a throw- everything -away binge again. But I'm having a hard time parting from the little pieces of paper:

"dumb luck and good fortune" - Explanation for marrying my best friend and biggest fan.

"shine a light on ordinary life" - Wish I could remember who said that. It's at the root of what I try to do.

"close to home" - Title for a series of paintings. Or a book. Three words that calm me right down.

"seeing in a different light" - Another title or series idea. 

"at sea" - Along with "off course" and "struggle," describing my state of mind.

Now that I've written them here, maybe I can toss the pieces of paper and head for the hills with Rosie.

Cocktail Hour

Cocktail Hour

Oil on Wood

8"X10"

 Yesterday evening was downright balmy, warm enough for the boys to gather for cocktails on the deck. Rosie savored the camaraderie and neighborliness of the occasion, which was an impromptu, unofficial celebration of Life. Our favorite kind. 

Rosie at My Feet

Rosie at My Feet

Oil on Wood

12"X12"

I like it when Rosie chooses to lie down in my studio, although it doesn't leave much room for moving around.  Close quarters. Not such a bad thing. 

All afternoon I have been thinking about Paul Bloom's, "What we Value Most" on NPR's Ted Talks.

A lot of information, but what struck me is his comment, "When you buy art you're buying a story." Whoa. Light bulb. That's what I do here every day. Now how to transfer the daily post to a permanent place out in the real world? And how to create paintings that are experienced as a series which is how I see and experience the world?

Rosie 3

Rosie 3

Oil on Wood

8"X8"
SOLD

Why is that one morning you get to the studio with the intention to make a particular painting and it just happens. Right then and there. Without the usual hemming and hawing, angst, self-doubt, inventive hours of procrastinating, nor gentle cajoling. The dog was sitting still in the living room. Morning sun illuminated her golden fur.  An old 8"X8" panel was ready to be painted over, and I finally got the color mixing right, not to mention her nose, eye and ear, and the relationship between them. I suppose all that went before brought me to this one painting. Now I wonder if I can send it off to the Golden Retriever Foundation Art Auction for their fundraiser. Or. Do I need to keep it for myself. Because it is as close to recreating Rosie as I am likely to come. And it is a reminder of this morning when it all came together for no particular reason except I must have stopped trying so hard.

Rosie 2

Rosie 2

Oil on Wood

8"X6"

This might go to the Golden Retriever Foundation Art Auction. Unless I can't bear to part with it in which case I'll send another. There's a lot of Rosie in this little painting. 

Rosie Roark

Rosie Roark

Oil on Wood

8"X6"

You can't beat beginning the day with a visit from a fine neighbor and her wonderful dog, a big, black lab also named Rosie. The Rosies bounded through the garden while we sipped coffee and chatted in the warm sun on the deck. By the end, both dogs reeked from some kind of skunk encounter and were totally spent. Our neighbors went home to wash up and get on with their day.  Not wanting to break the spell, my dog and I "headed for the hills," as Granny Mouse used to say, where our day unfolded gently. A young deer family and a few turkeys shared the meadow, while rabbits hopped around the periphrey and birds conducted their daily routine all around.  It's dinner time and my Rosie is still zonked. I am relaxed and peaceful beyond measure.

Afternoon on the Couch

Afternoon on the Couch

Oil on Wood

6"X8"

I seem to be doing a dog series.

But if I say I am, that will probably be the end of it. 

The other night I watched Art-21's documentary about the artist Andrea Zittel.

Her entire life is her art and her art is her life. I guess that is true of all of us. But her commitment to her vision is astounding. I find that as soon as I define a path, my inclination is to wander away. Distracted.  Disobedient. Attracted to the periphery. Not bad. But not linear. Not predictable. And probably not very grown up.
In the meantime, my dog doesn't judge and keeps our routine in check. Wake. Eat. Walk. Couch. Lunch. Couch. Walk. Eat. Sleep. 

First Thing in the Morning

First Thing in the Morning

Oil on Wood

6"X8"

It's not the very first thing, but by the time I come downstairs in the morning, Rosie has been outside and come back in and had a bite to eat and settled at the bottom of the stairs waiting (Patiently. Always Patiently) for me to come down. After a quick cup of coffee, I put on my walking shoes, pick up her leash and we are off. Seeing her there, with eager expectation, day after day, rain or shine, makes my day before it has even gotten started. To be enthusiastic about our daily routine. The walk. The town. The new day. That's it. All of it. In a nutshell.

Morning Routine

Morning Routine

Oil on Canvas

12"X12"

On this morning's walk with Rosie I thought about words that describe my current state of mind.

Trouble is, it is now afternoon and I have forgotten what they were.

One was "longing." I remember that. Having been moved to tears yesterday when I happened upon a large photograph of my mother striking a Yoga pose, looking radiant at 75.
"Friendship" was in there for sure. Today I dropped everything to have lunch with a good old friend, giving the day shape and meaning way beyond that any painting could convey. "Balance" should have been there if it wasn't. Because it's all one big balancing act. Life. Work. Longing. Come to think of it, that Yoga pose my mother did was the essence of balance. 

Rosie Up Close

Rosie Up Close

Oil on Canvas

6"X8"

I saw a lot of paintings recently that knocked my socks off. Especially Linda Christensen's whose energetic figurative paintings just plain send me. More paint. Bigger. Looser. Where have I heard that before? Determined to move myself down the road.