STOP

I am seeing a lot to paint in my neighborhood--all the undiscovered relationships between trees, houses, and sidewalks, and even trees with stop signs. It occurred to me that the tree was not complete without its connection to the stop sign. The angle doesn't matter, these two elements are connected.

The only reason that this is important is that a couple of years ago I painted several Home Portraits and was asked to remove the big tree in the painting so the front of the house could be viewed with the glory of the front garden displayed. No one had ever witnessed this perspective of the particular house, so the painting looked wrong, despite winter reference photos and cast shadows from the aborted tree. So I guess relationship matters even to stop signs and their tree buddies. I confess that I tried to leave the stop sign out, but, well, something stopped me.

The Lightness of Being 1

Oblivious

How easily
We divide and conquer the hours,
Relegating and naming them:
This, as important...that, as unimportant,
This, for the body...that, for the soul,
Believing
We have somehow become
Wise,
Self-disciplined,
Masters of our lives.

But surprisingly, at the far end
Of a long life's march,
We begin to long once more
For the days when
Time was a river, and we
But a small and insignificant leaf
Afloat on its surface,
Oblivious to all
But the flow and touch
Of the water.

Copyright  Sharon K Sheppard

I thought Sharon's poem and my painting would make a good pairing. Relax, let your head roll back, close your eyes and think of floating on water....(not of multi-tasking)....Um-m-m-m-m...

Freedom

I have the freedom to paint anything I want. I am not restricted by the government to certain subjects, however, I wouldn't mind if the Republic paid me to paint my comrades according to the fabulous documentation that was produced by Russian artists of the working class in the 19th and early 20th centuries. I admire their work greatly.

OK, let's say I get a letter tomorrow and I am assigned to the service sector for documenting and exalting their fine work. The paintings would be pale interiors with fluorescent lighting, my comrades would all be wearing dockers or crop pants. No lovely headscarves. No students studying by candle light. No beautiful working hands and muscular arms to show in paint. Even if I got the logging assignment in the NW, the work would largely be done by a roaring tractor with a giant claw. We have computers, and conveniences, and really nice stuff, but somewhere along the way we lost our connections (and I am not referring to social networking). My paintings of the service sector wouldn't have the same joy or passion that I see in the old Russian paintings. So now you think I am going to write a suggestion or give advice for improving sociey? I guess it's a personal choice. Spend more time in nature, find your own joy and wear a head scarf just to try it out. And paint more...

Ladies Kayak Weekend & Jay Cooke State Park

What a glorious weekend combination--paddling and painting! Since experiencing Alaska's wilderness, I truly do feel "bankrupt" (see 'Comment' with Chekov writings--ThankYou Night Writer) for putting down the essence of nature--The Color! The Complexity! The Grandeur!  This is the closest I can muster for now. If I showed you a photograph of this scene you would see a mass of gray rocks and water. There is so much more to see, hear, and experience.