Sun on the Winter Marsh watermedia on paper 12x9
Since I`m not burning hot with great new ideas, I thought painting whole pieces in a single day might be useful again. Ten years ago the practice kept me working through the deepest grief I had experienced.
Carol Marine makes a convincing case for the habit as a way of learning efficiently. In her book
Daily Painting, she asserts working small and often as a way to gain confidence and develop technique. It`s also a way to be active in the studio when the muse is away. Almost exercises without any expectation, it`s pleasant and satisfying. Nothing I liked much has come from it until this piece, a bright, brittle winter slough. Here are some of the others, all watermedia on paper 12x9.
Distant Green
[yupo]
With perfect timing, this sweet little
book arrived in the mail yesterday. It fits nicely in the hand and is filled with ideas, methods, proposals, concepts, and suggestions. And it`s illustrated with lots of paintings. The UK artist Joanna Goss contacted me a couple of years ago about using an image of mine. Naturally enough, I`m the section on Yupo;
This is one of the coolest books on watercolor I`ve ever seen.
That nice red head boy got married, God bless them.
Prince Harry served in two deployments in Afghanistan. Heel spurs were never mentioned. He also created the
Invictus Games so that injured servicemen could also compete in sport.
I like Meghan too;
After referring to a poem in my last post that I`ve searched 48 years for, my pal
Elisabeth sent me this wonderful piece by
James Dickey;
The Heaven of Animals
Here they are. Their soft eyes open.
If they have lived in a wood
It is a wood.
If they have lived on plains
It is grass rolling
Under their feet forever.
Having no souls, they have come,
Anyway, beyond their knowing.
Their instincts wholly bloom
And they rise.
The soft eyes open.
To match them, the landscape flowers,
Outdoing, desperately
Outdoing what is required;
The richest wood,
The deepest field.
For some of these,
it could not be the place
It is, without blood.
These hunt, as they have done,
but with claws and teeth grown perfect.
More deadly than they can believe.
They stalk more silently,
And crouch on the limbs of trees,
And their descent
Upon the bright backs of their prey
May take years
In a sovereign floating of joy.
And those that are hunted
Know this as their life.
Their reward; To walk
Under such trees in full knowledge
Of what is in glory above them,
And to feel no fear,
But acceptance, compliance.
Fulfilling themselves without pain
At the cycle`s center,
They tremble, they walk
Under the tree,
They fall, they are torn,
They rise, they walk again.
Prow by
Christopher LeBrun
Isn`t this magnificent?! It is as urgent and inspiring as when I first saw it 35 years ago.
Pegasus! We`ve been waiting for you! What is the message?
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