color of joy

Yellow, the color of joy. 12 x 18. Pastel.

Esperanza Spalding "Overjoyed."

soul salsa

9 x 12, pigment and pastel on Wallis Board

Rhythm. A complement of musicians. Now flute. Now trumpets. Saxes. More percussion. If it makes you want to move, then it's all good. 

St Germain "Soul Salsa Soul."

she can't sleep now

9 x 13, gouache and pastel on paper

Gouache under painting with pastel on top. I love the under painting part of the painting process. Splash, drip, bloom, blot, spray. The process is actively intuitive (and not always successful) and when it goes well, there is nothing to compare to the joy I feel.


Paul Simon "She Moves On."

give and take and the creative act

20 x 20, acrylic on cradled panel

More play with texture, this time with molding paste and Golden's Fiber Paste. I put down a thin layer of the molding and fiber pastes and then manipulated the surface with paper towels and plastic wrap. Once the textured surface was dry, I put down an acrylic underpainting with Quinacridone Crimson, Pyrrole Orange, Hansa Yellow Medium, and Titanium White. 

Each step of this process was an intuitive response to the previous step.

This kind of play reminds me of how I felt at some band rehearsals. With the right combination of musicians, an open and playful attitude, and trust and respect among the players, wonderful things can happen.

You can get a sense of that kind of energy, the give and take, the synergy of  the creative act, with this video. Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, Chris Thile, and Stuart Duncan in NPR Tiny Desk Concert. 

it's raining all the time

10 x 10, acrylic on paper

Molding paste helps bump up the texture on this piece. Keeping the palette quiet but the energy loud.

Donna Hightower, Stormy Weather. Cool and sweet and just a bit dangerous.

dad

Dad, 24 x 18, charcoal on paper

My father has dementia. Each time I talk to him, it seems he has less and less to contribute to the conversation. I believe he is genuinely happy to get my calls, to hear my voice, to laugh at my stories, to celebrate the precious moments of life.

But my rye observations about growing older no longer bring up his own commiserating stories. His stories are lost in the unnavigable places in his mind.

Some days I feel the loss of my father as unbearable. I want to have him sing "King of the Road" with me, or a few verses of "You Can't Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd." But, he can't. I still sing to him, though. You can be happy if you've a mind to...

And this week, I reminded him of his obsession with the rock opera, "Tommy" back in the 1990s. He must have seen the film 100 times. He bought the record and played it so much at home, I think he wore it out. He knew all of the songs by heart. 

Since Dad can't remember anymore, I'll just remember for him. A daughter can do that.

Here, Dad, this is for you.


"Pinball Wizard" by The Who.

into the mystic

10 x 10, acrylic on paper

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when the fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don't have to fear it

And I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And magnificently we will flow into the mystic

 

Van Morrison, "Into the Mystic"

"Into the Mystic" done by Glen Hansard  &; Maarketa Kirglov. 

advance

Advance, 9 x 9, pastel

Last summer we heard The Bills at a concert at Butchart Gardens near Victoria, BC. They had a lot of fun on stage, sharing the solos, laughing at the gaffes, celebrating the riffs, and I was captivated (and a little bit envious) by it all.

"Old Blue Bridge" The Bills.