Archive for the ‘painting adventures’ Category

“Yes, the wind came up–” Mrs. Sharpe began. She paused. “And changed us all,” Petra said softly.” ― Blue Balliett, The Calder Game

Eyes Wide Shut, graphite on paper, A4 (8x10)

Eyes Wide Shut, graphite on paper, A4 (8×10)2015 —

The story Continues….

In my 3 decades as a professional artist, I learned that no one survives on talent alone. It takes sponsors with connections, galleries with connections, and other artist willing to bring you along with them up the ladder, and most importantly it’s all about timing.

I knew nothing of these things in those early days as I was wrapped in the warmth, comfort and magic of the great grandfather mountains of Santa Fe, my illusions were undauntable, my addictions intense; because for me it was all about the paint. I jumped into that rich emulsifying pool of art and swam with the sharks never realizing that what I was painting was unique and would give way to a lifetime of exploration, adventures and more failures and rewards than I could even imagine.

Those first years I rode the western wind which allowed me to define what I would paint giving me my women in robes who took center stage and brought much acclaim as I participated in multiple shows dealing with women in art. My landscapes of Stairs and Awnings brought my first exclusive contact with a gallery. Everything clicked; I was in the right place at the right time with the right stuff. I became a member of a very small group of 5 artists called the Multi-Cultural Artist Group and we painted large murals on the sides of many buildings in Santa Fe. The one on the old Records and Archives Building on Guadalupe St is now considered a local landmark. In addition I was elected to the Board of Directors of the Santa Fe Society of Artists. I began teaching on the side to mostly young and talented teens. My reputation was growing, and it was quietly said I had created a new genre.

Five years in Santa Fe and then we moved to Tijeras, New Mexico. By then I was represented by 2 galleries in Florida, one in Houston and a third small gallery in Albuquerque. My work was too different to be considered “New Mexican” and I rarely sold within the state. Aside from the galleries, I was getting into multiple competitions nationwide taking many awards.

Twelve years later as my work was continually growing and evolving with the times, the west wind changed course bringing a warm southernly breeze that entered the window one cold Thanksgiving and a seed was planted. It was watered by my love for the woman who was my aunt but whom I thought of as a mother, one who came to me and begged a favor.

When I could not say no, another path opened, this one darker. In my Pollyannaness, I did not know at that time it would require every ounce of my heart and soul, every fiber of my being in order to accomplish was was set before me, and to survive the battle to come. My husband would latter say that my whole life was leading up to this point, and was preparing me for the final confrontation with Capitán.

I would not pick up a paintbrush or a pencil for the next five years.

MASKS

Posted: February 25, 2013 in Art, journal, painting adventures, Women
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“A mask can hide you from others, but not from yourself.” Marty Rubin

..not just another pretty face,  ink on paper,  45x35 cm(18x14) work done but never shown

“..not just another pretty face”-2005, ink on paper, 45×35 cm(18×14) work done but never shown

One would think at my age the Pollyanna in me would have long ago been cured of delusions and illusions. I know the world is not a pretty place, but in spite of my new self-awareness, I seem to have developed several shades of rose-colored glasses –after all most people do deserve the benefit of a doubt, no? Or better said:  an opportunity to hang themselves.

I use to be very good at recognizing those I should steer away from, those that mean me harm.  Then there are those that “ain’t got no sign” as a quaint song from the 60’s intoned.  The ones that stir the spidy-sense but give no clues, no hint. They make you shiver and you tend to tread cautiously. These slithering types have always shied away from my bright light preferring the dark cool shadows.  I always was protected by the barrier of my own vibration; but one fooled me, put on sheep’s clothing, crossed the barrier and offered friendship with a cold hand.

We all wear masks of one kind or another.  Hiding our real selves, trying not to let everyone know how insane we  really are, hanging on by our fingernails and praying for a few miracles all the while wearing a brave smile, our shoulders thrown back our heads held high, moving forward with life. Caught up in our own circles of interaction, action and inaction, seeking our individual dreams, we tend to forget there are those out there who are living dark shadowy lives.

Dual existences. Pretending to be one kind of person, secretly being another.

I have met a myriad of people in my years, from all walks of life, all faiths, all cultures, all segments of our society rich or poor, gay or straight, deviant in their preferences, fearful of inclusion, or delightful extroverts.  Those living the high-life, others down on their luck or caught somewhere in-between reality and illusion. They were good people, but some were very bad, even evil, some were truly sick and others just pure con artists.  But one thing was the same for them all: each in their own way, were true to themselves.  Something’s they did not broadcast, but did not hide .

I would not dare make an assumption as to what is right or wrong for another, I only know that I had an experience, which left me empty, betrayed, feeling like I should take a few baths to remove a clinging bit of slime. Another new lesson learned.

More barriers than personal ones have tumbled down in this brave new world.  There has been a loss of ethics, a loss of respect, a loss of the sacred, and a loss of personal integrity.  Then again, perhaps those things were lost when we left Eden and are meant to be re-learned if we are to survive.

Even with rose-colored glasses, I never did like snakes, never will.

The journey continues…. so tread safely out there my friends……they do walk among us unseen.

“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction” Newton’s Third Law of Motion

Land Treads, oil on canvas, 77x102 cm (30x40)

Land Treads, oil on canvas, 77×102 cm (30×40)

I think we have lost our innocence. I think we have lost common sense. I think as a society we have peaked.  I think we are becoming as callous as the perpetrators who kill and maim.  I think we are loosing empathy and are heading towards becoming more militaristic……de-evolving into a third world made up of Christian zealots wanting to take us back to the dark ages, radical gun totting, shoot first, ask questions later, idiots spreading unnecessary fear; Corporations spending quadrillions to convert us to their cause, slowly changing the fabric of this country. I think our legislators live in fear of loosing their jobs, fighting for personal agendas rather, than doing what is right for the country as a whole.  Now that the dumbing of America is complete, now that art has become a mediocre pastime, now that we have become one-dimensional nearly incapable of critical thinking, now that technology has eliminated the need for verbal conversations, now that we are more isolated from each other than ever in spite of social networking………. I think we are so very close to the edge of chaos………and out on the parameter are those like me, a small but mighty group going: ayyyyyyeeeeee!!!!.

Ok, now I feel better.

I guess this is all part of the process; everyone carries the seeds of their own destruction, their own Karma, even counties.  If you believe that Newton’s Third Law of Motion applies only to physics you are soooo very wrong.  It applies to everything and everybody! Do a little research and you will find there are no coincidences in this world. Things are happening simultaneously everywhere. We are all so connected it can be frightening, or enlightening. I prefer the latter.

All right I will step down from my visionary soapbox and look at the amusing side of the current reality:

Three weeks ago I was hired by Home Depot!  Whoo Hoo I yelled for the world to hear.  Unfortunately I have also fallen though the cracks once again…..as Home Depot has lost my paperwork and though I exist in name only…they are having trouble making sure I really exist.  Hahahahaha! As if that was something new to my experience in life!  So I will be patient and see if they can find me.

In the meantime, my painting The Red Thread is off to The Armory for the Arts exhibit in Palm Beach Florida.  This weekend my Women and Fish Drawings will be part of a two-person show at the Watermelon Gallery in Cedar Crest and I am busy working on the 4th in the series (number 3 is above: Land Threads).  This series is evolving into something different and I do not know where it is going, but I like it!

AND… like a bit of icing on the cake, I have a drawing student.  Yes one student, it is quite wonderful, I am not as useless as I thought!!!

I also survived another birthday …….so, January was a very interesting month indeed…… I am now ready for the rest of the year!

 

 

 

“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in the space between are the doors of perception”  Aldous Huxley

Red Thread 2oil on canvas, 77x102 cm (30x40)

Red Thread 2
oil on canvas, 77×102 cm (30×40)

Between the dark and the light there is grey. Between the ocean and the mountains there are the fields and valleys. Between dreams and illusions is reality and between love and hate truth endures. In my musings, I have found that truth does not set you free; what it does do is create awareness and shines a light on a path, giving you a choice to follow or not.  I choose to follow.

A new year, a six-year, a year of extended possibilities.  Perhaps it is because of the shift in conscience that occurred on December 21, 2012 that a rush of clarity floods my mind. I have no words to define what is happening as images and scenarios’ play out in my head, and I see myself as I have never seen before. I see so much – I do not know what to do with the information!  I am not exactly pleased with what I have found. They say your life speeds before your eyes before you die.  I do not think I am dying but this is as good an explanation as any as to what is happening except in slow motion.  Word by word, action by action, stripped of illusion, stripped of perceived reality, the nakedness of it all takes my breath away as I silently watch like a bystander in my own life.

My little seasonal job is over with the season! They said they would give me a good recommendation.  Made me smile, what shall they say? “She did an excellent job of wrapping gifts and of packing boxes for shipment.” Cannot get any lower on the totem pole, and it has become apparent that retail has no real need for someone like me, so I guess its time to try a different direction, to climb back up a bit! Time to re-file all those job applications again, and hope it being a 6-year people will look pass my age and see what an asset I would be!  Hahahah! Hard to do in a country that thrives and survives on youth. Sigh. I do not give up easily!

Canvas and paint were under the tree…above it is the second painting as images flood my mind. If I can hold onto it, I will do a series of “swan song” paintings. A few have told me over the years, that my life and my paintings have been an eternal exploration into the question of “who am I?” I have tried to deny it, calling it other things that reflect the appropriate “artspeak”; but the truth is quite evident now, and no matter how I may venture off into other subject matters, I always return to the core.  It is what I do, it is who I am.  So, I will paint what I have discovered.

It is a kind of truth that lies in the spaces of my soul.

“I am only a sparrow amongst a great flock of sparrows.” Evita Peron

 

charcoal & oil on paper25x36 cm (10x14)

charcoal & oil on paper
25×36 cm (10×14)

Flocks of dusty blue colored birds with darker blue heads, come to the feeder every day. In groups of 25 –50 plus, they eat all the seed, all the suet, drink all the water and move on.  The ring neck doves and smaller birds just wait patiently, then peck at the remains.  I go out and re-fill the tray, re pack the suet cage, re-fill the water bowl, knowing tomorrow another group will come.  It’s beginning to get expensive, aside from looking like something out of a Hitchcock movie!  It is the first time ever I have seen so many birds at the feeder. Perhaps it is because the weather is still basically fall with warm days and freezing nights; there are even robins still dancing around.  This will soon change we are being told, as a front moves in next week and winter may finally come, bringing perhaps, maybe, ok we’re not sure, some much-needed moisture in the form of rain or show.

Am enjoying my seasonal job, but what few hours I have are being cut for lack of business.  It’s happening everywhere a true trickle down effect of fear of what will happen come January.  Stupid games congress plays are hurting everyone. But I am thankful for the hours that I have, not much I can do about it anyway!

Art wise I am playing around with movement and color, doing some random sketches working in charcoal and oil on paper (sketch 1 above).  Keeps me out of trouble, kills time, and helps me to loosen up my structured self.  Put together another book of drawings. This one is Women and Fish, it’s for sale on-line at Blurb (http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/3809483 ) and I will sell copies at the exhibit of the those drawings in February at The Watermelon Gallery here on the mountain.

Been having strange deep dreams, terribly symbolic. One in particular stands above the rest:  I was getting a painting ready for an exhibit when I noticed the right side was torn and the stretcher broken.  I did my best to fix it and holding it in front of me I asked an unknown entity how did it look.  “Something is wrong”, they said. When I looked down at the painting, it and I had melded together. I turned my head and saw in a rear mirror my human back and legs.  I awoke distressed. Took me a few days to see beyond the symbolism, and I realized that not only were my paintings and I one, but they defined who I was.  Notice the past tense here, because this is why I feel so lost at times.  When something that defines you is taken away, it takes a bit of magic to redefine who and what you are! I am still working on that aspect.

Well, enough of that! Besides the end of the world is coming, or at least a change in world conscience, I can only hope for the latter.  So if we all survive that….and we actually get some snow, well the rest is pudding for a Christmas dinner.

 

“A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.” – Steve Martin

 

Beach Chair, oil on canvas, 77×102 cm (30×40)

 

This past Friday a storm was moving in as I headed back home from checking the mail. The heavy, dark and ominous clouds were moving off to the northeast as small ice pellets hit the windshield. The sun was still shining to the south so I knew the storm had side-skirted my house in the valley.

As I rounded a curve in the dirt road heading toward the first cattle guard, the inside of the truck suddenly lit up with an intensely bright diffused light making me come to a full stop. I looked to my right and the sun was shinning, I turned to my left ……. my heart skipped a beat and I think I stopped breathing.  There before my eyes almost close enough to touch was the most magnificent double rainbow I had ever seen. I was bathed in this reflected celestial light and I just broke into unexplainable joyous giggles.

Never before had I experienced anything so magnificent. It felt like my whole being was flying, beyond exhilaration, awash in something truly magical. I reluctantly continued my journey home, a smile permanently fixed to my face, keeping my eye on the rainbow in the rear view mirror until I descended the last ridge and it disappeared from view.

That exhilaration stayed with me until the next day and then I crashed, falling off an emotional cliff, tumbling down to the bottom of a deep lake where I found a cracked mirror. In that mirror I saw a reflection of myself and my deepest fears. For a brief time anxiety reigned, until once again I found balance.

Whew! What a ride!

This awareness thing is quite an experience.  It has been an interesting week.

I finally have a job….….WhooHoo! …..at Williams Sonoma. Abet it is only until February but I am truly grateful.  Was suppose to start last week but corporate has delayed schedule making and I was feeling a bit apprehensive as I turned down two other offers of seasonal work. Then on rainbow Friday,  as it will forever be known, I received an e-mail saying my work (see painting above) will be one of three that will be used to promote the exhibit at the Coral Springs Museum of Art in Coral Springs, Florida, happening December 4th, that was special indeed.

Yesterday, being back in balance, I finished another painting I had been working on to add to my “Houses” series. I also ordered swiss clips so I could start framing the Women and Fish drawings for the show in February. Too expensive to have them  really framed so mounting them in Plexiglass is the best alternative. Today I crated and shipped my painting off to Florida; now the deck is clear,  I stand ready to go to work, if I can get a schedule!!!!

Had a dream once, a very long time ago, where I was in the forest and there was a shaft of liquid light. There were shadow people everywhere and disembodied voices told me to go stand in the light and make a wish. In the dream, I walked into the light and felt drenched in the most glorious feeling of joy and peace.  Then I awoke, holding onto the knowledge that something truly magic had transpired and I was changed.

Sitting in my truck bathed in the light of the rainbow was just like that dream……..just a little bit of magic to let you know, nothing is what it seems.

Isn’t life grand?

 

 

“I have dined with kings and danced with paupers.” Anonymous

Woman with Fish and Dog
oil on canvas, 112×92 cm (44×36)

In my late twenties I was convinced that there would be no social security by the time I was ready to retire. However, at the time, that did not matter too much as I was also convinced I would be dead by the time I was 35.

Never shy about entering an open door, when I graduated from college I hit the world like a windstorm. I finally settled down a bit in my late 20’s, got married, made use of my education and became an artist; but by then I had already been more places, done more things, had more adventures than most people do in a lifetime.  Nothing was planned. No thinking ahead. Just seeing life as a never-ending adventure, riding whatever wave came my way. When I think about it, I must have gone through time warps to manage fitting so much into so little time.

I am not bragging, just stating facts; and telling you this because of my new continuing awareness. Realizing I am where I am today because of that lifestyle. Spent so much time teetering on the edge of  the cliff, I think I may have spouted permanent roots. So now I am wondering, if I haven’t died already by accident or fault of another, or some earthly disaster, or physical malady, then I am still around for a purpose.  And if part of this purpose is understanding everything or seeing everything with such clarity……..does that mean when there is nothing left to see or learn or do – I will die?

Mind you, I have no fear of death; it would be like moving on to the next adventure. Well we can’t live forever, although I would not mind giving it a try for one or two centuries. I would also like being rich for a few years.  I would like the opportunity to do something really good with a great deal of money. Maybe that is why I am poor!  Hahaha! Anyway, my mind tends to play scenarios with itself as I find new ways to amuse my days.

Last week I received a most marvelous letter from the President of the National Association of Women Artists in New York.  A very old and prestigious organization of which I am proud to be a long-standing member. In the letter, she complimented me on my work, said some pretty wonderful things and added that the organization was honored to have me as a member.  Whew! Took my breath away for a moment, made me feel very fortunate, very humbled, very honored. Never before have I received such a letter.

On another front, the food pantry asked me to come back!  One of their employees lives close to me and has offered to give me a ride into town twice a week and back home again.  Next week I can do something constructive again, even if it is just as a volunteer!  Went into town earlier this week and submitted my application to a few high-end retail stores and a bakery complimenting my existing on-line applications.  With the holiday season coming around, something even temporary, may come into being.  I am hopeful

The new painting above: Woman with Fish and Dog, is a recycled canvas…. I have 6 more that can be painted over without causing me too much agony.  This one is definitely a melding of the fish drawings and Works in Blue. Felt a need to paint one of my women again, even though the market for such work died a slow death with the recession.

I am also working on a new painting for my ongoing Houses series, which I have hopes of one day, before I die, actually having a show with the complete works all together!

The Balloon Fiesta is over, all the tourist have gone home and with them the cold snap.  Indian Summer has settled into the high mountains. The air crisp, dry and clean, the sky an intense blue, the nights cold.  The days seem to quietly flow one into another here as I work in my studio, or sit at the computer with nowhere to go and less to do. I find in my heart, I am dining with kings and dancing with paupers!

Not too shabby…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt to be dangerous.” – Alfred Adler

Invitation for New Zealand Exhibit

I have been experiencing a strange sense of awareness. A feeling of having already experienced things I just learn about or is about to happen.  Not unlike feeling like you’ve reached the end of the internet when every forward you get you’ve seen before.  Like that but different.  Not deja vu, but a future vu!  It sometimes stops me in my tracks and grabs hold of my conscience with a clarity  I really wish I could explain.

It is not helpful in any way I can think of.  It brings no peace, no satisfaction….I just see things with such completeness, coupled with understanding, mixed with fragility….not everything, just somethings, less important things, things of no consequence or better said, no known consequence.

Whatever it is, it just is………perhaps its nothing more than living in the season of lies that have become truths to some and half-truths meant to deceive; of watching the vivid hatefulness of one political party against the other in real-time, on the streets in public places, the never-ending fear mongering.  Whatever happens this election, our divided America will get what it asks for and like anything we ask for, there will be consequences. There always seem to be consequences. Nothing is free, a price must be paid.  Not unlike sacrifices of olden days to appease the gods.

On another front, there is still no job, no job offers, no phone calls, no nothing.  I had to stop my volunteer work in town. The cost of gas had become too much. With money going out and noting coming it, cuts had to be made. I had a choice:  use the $100.00 a month it was costing me to drive into town just to give myself something of value to do twice a week, or put it towards keeping my art alive.  Art won. They did not understand, it was I thought, rather amazing for an organization dealing with the poor. Or perhaps it as simple as: if you don’t act or look poor, how can you be poor?  So many levels of poor, a matter of perception. I am better than some, worse than others.

The two little paintings I sent to New Zealand in the spring will be part of a 4-person exhibit at the Lake House Gallery outside of Auckland the end of this month (see invitation above)!  My saved $100.00 will pay the entry fee and shipping cost for another exhibit I will be part of at the Coral Springs Museum of Art in Florida come November. That will finish off the year.

Priorities.  I will just have to find a way to amuse myself after next week as I send out more resumes and keep my fingers crossed. I am officially out of canvas but still have tons of paper and there are a few canvases that would not be missed if painted over. Being a creative and intuitive person, I am sure that is a goal I can accomplish.  Perhaps I can also figure out my little future visions and what they mean.

Perhaps I’ll even find a job or sell paintings, or find out pigs can really fly! hahahaha!   I am so ready for the grand awakening of consciences that the Mayans predicted!

 

 

“The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live………that’s what myths do. They happen all the time.” ― Ursula LeGuin, Dancing at the Edge of the World

“Upstairs” Page 6, the Sketchbook Project 2013

Late at night and early in the morning, the coyotes pass though the property. I awake with the cacophony of sounds, the yips, yaps, cat-like cries, and haunting howls as they travel venture into the night or travel back to their dens.  You can tell the difference between the adults and the pups. It is no wonder they became legend and stories of Native Americans. Every dog within 5 miles of the sound is like my Charlie, uttering low growls mixed with apprehension and respect. Such a primal sound, otherworldly, it makes me feel like an uninvited guest intruding on a private affair.

There is always an essence of excitement traveling with the sounds, an essence of potential danger, adventure, a palatable feeling hanging for a moment in the air, then gone. Replaced with absolute silence.

How does this relate to my art? Well, it doesn’t in any practical way, but it does instill a vibration in my core that lingers and possibly inspires.

The lack of responses to my job applications is terribly disheartening. Six months now, I am beginning to view myself as part of a Leonard Cohen verse “……. Lost my job forever, counted with the dead.”  So I have volunteered at a Family Services Center in Albuquerque. Doing secretarial work a couple of days a week for the greater good gives me a sense of value. But the core of me still yearns for something else. Something that may just be nothing more than an illusion…like another old song by Peggy Lee, “…..is that all there is?”

Shipped my painting “Houses of Moon Mesa” off to the east coast for the exhibit at the Sylvia Walk & Kim Po Gallery in downtown NYC.  Am learning not to expect too much, so if it sells, well that will be a glorious moment! Otherwise it is just another wonderful show addition to my resume.

Temporarily lost the ability to draw even a straight line, so I have put the fish on a hiatus. Have 13 now, would like to do a couple more; I have until January and then pick which ones will be used in the exhibit. So I turn my attention to my contribution to the Sketchbook Project 2013 for the ArtHouse co-op Art Library in New York. (You can see the pages as they are added at http://www.facebook.com/casgohart

I am working with little bits of homemade paper (sample page above) creating vignettes from the attic in my mind.

Balloons are flying high over the skies of Albuquerque already, so it is officially fall. There is a 30-degree shift in temperature from early morning to 10am; everything in the garden is slowing down getting ready.  Hard to believe we could have snow of the ground in 8 weeks.

Where does all the energy expended go? Is there a great vacuum out there sucking it all up and dispersing it to others who need it more?  I think occasionally it would be good to join the pack, to able to howl, to yip and hunt, perhaps that is why werewolves are such a successful myth.

 

Ahwooooooooo!

 

 

Fishing

Posted: August 11, 2012 in painting adventures
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“No human being, however great, or powerful, was ever so free as a fish.” John Ruskin

Woman and Fish 8, Charcoal and Conté crayon on gessoed paper, 36×51 cm (14×20)

 

Swim, swim, swim. The Women and Fish continue, up to number 8 now as I explore melding the concept of a woman’s emotion and concept of the fluid energy of goldfish.  It seems to be right. Not being a realist, the word “concept” defines the ongoing exploration without locking it into a genre. Thought I was finished with my women but perhaps I just needed to escape from them for a while and find another path to enable a return. Works in Blue opened that door.

It’s a few years now, and the faces have change, the emotions are stronger, the feelings more solidified.  Being a water sign it is rather appropriate for me to swim around in this genetic memory pond of how we once were, living in a liquid realm. I am working with soft charcoal and Conté crayon, hard and chalk-like, it feels good on my fingers as I blend the colors.  I have painted the paper first with a thin wash of burnt sienna and then applied a thin coat of gesso.  Once dry a light second coat of gesso is applied with a sheet rock knife to give a bit of texture and allow some of the underlying soft color to come though.

Swimming back to water again, looking at a rather simplistic comparison. The dangers here on dry land are probably worse than when we were aquatic. Then we swam in large groups for protection, death, when it came, was quick and I am sure quite painless.  Now we walk pretty much alone or with small groups who may or may not protect us depending on their state of mind; and real or imagined death can linger in our body, mind and souls for years.

When I was a child you could not keep me out of the water. In the sprinklers, in a pool, on the beach, on a boat, in the ocean, in a pond, swinging off trees into a stream with deep pools, sailing around the world, living on an island, always being, breathing, near water, absorbing the great kinetic energy.

Then I got married and to this day, with a few exceptions, I live in the high desert. A very passive energy; everything moving forward slowly with measured pace, definition, reflection and determination. It was only then, when I came to this land, that I really began to paint.

Perhaps becoming a serious painter required me to be more introspective, to delve down deep into the earth of my being and draw forth the remembered energy of water onto a dry land.  Hummmm…food for later thought. Perhaps working on these drawings is allowing me to feel the moist wind of the ocean once more and swim in the memory of that fluid energy.

Its fluid enough that my gallery (www.thewatermelongallery.com) having seen the first 5 drawings, has offered to put them in another 2-person show in February. I, of course, said Whoo Hoo! and Yes!  So I will continue until the pond is drained, then we will choose the best of the lot and ready them for a show.

Do not misunderstand; I do love it here, great depth of beauty everywhere, the big sky, the quiet, the magnificent light.  If there were a running steam outside my door, actual “live water” as they say, it would be perfect!

In the meantime I will just keep swimming in my mind and on paper.