Saturday, November 7, 2020

#404 • Distraction

 

Click here to purchase this painting #403

 

We could all use some distraction right now, or I could for sure. I was going to post this on Wednesday, but got...distracted. 

We artists are lucky. We can go do some art when we feel like escaping the world. It's also a great way to get outside of ourselves for a minute or two.

Distraction • 8" x *" watercolor framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Tuesday, October 27, 2020

#403 • Calling All Witches & Bitches

 
Click here to purchase this painting #402 

 I pray that all good witches and bitches ride with the power of the great full moon this Halloween to vote with all of the feminine compassion, selflessness and healing energy they can muster. I pray they vote for the love of all children and the planet they will inherit, for understanding to be shared by all families, neighbors and their communities, for the healing of all states in this wounded country, and to keep the light of equitable justice burning for all.

Calling All Witches & Bitches • 8" x 8" framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

#402 • I Think I Missed Fall

 

Click here to purchase this painting #402
http://www.claudiadiller.com/blog.htm

Now that I'm in Kingfield a lot more these days, I'm easily distracted by chores around the house. It's the gardening that gets me. It's addictive. I go down to check on the lettuce and three hours later I've got a couple of buckets full of weeds - and no lettuce. As an artist it's a problem. It's the same as the seven minute butt break I used to take in years past - gardening is an excuse to take a break from thinking. I now know why artists have city studios, if they can afford them.

Needless to say, the garden chores are done and I look up to see fall waning. How did I miss fall? It's like working at a ski resort and stopping for a minute on a beautiful spring day and wondering how I missed the entire ski season?

So, here's a late rendition of fall as I remember from years past.

I think I Missed Fall • 8" x 8" watercolor framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

#401 • Falling Into Place

  

Click here to purchase this painting #401
http://www.claudiadiller.com/blog.htm

Everything is falling into place. It always does and always will. But "in place" has a whole new meaning these days. It would appear that we humans are now also falling humbly into our rightful place on life's great universal totem pole.

Falling Into Place • 8" x 8" watercolor framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

#400 • Night Sailing Horrors

 

Click here to purchase this painting #401
http://www.claudiadiller.com/blog.htm

I dream about night sailing under a full moon in a moderate wind and gentle seas within sight of land. The Perfect Storm made ocean going no longer desirable for me. I would find it scarier than hell with undetectable-by-radar-obstacles out there like partially submerged logs, thick wooden planks from other unfortunate vessels, scrap wood from shorelines loosened by a high tide or storm surge, and other sailors silently lolling about in their dinghys. And as if that's not enough to scare the bejesus out of a sailor, Maine now has its own Jaws - the ultimate night time horror.

Night Sailing Horrors • 8" x 8" watercolor framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Sunday, September 27, 2020

#399 • Corner Garden

Click here to purchase this painting #399
http://www.claudiadiller.com/blog.htm

Another getting-back-into-watercolors-practice-session-painting. This weekend was so summery, it reminded me of a favorite walk. 

It's always so much fun to take a walkabout the gardens on the hill in Portland. There were all kinds - like the folks who build and plant them. A little more homogenized these days, the gardens are still a nice reminder of human occupation and the force of nature in cities.

Corner Garden • 8" X 8" watercolor framed to 12" X 12" • $250

Friday, September 18, 2020

#398 • Frozen in Sweat

  

Click here to purchase this painting #398
http://www.claudiadiller.com/blog.htm

You gotta love the seasonal change here in Maine. One day you're drowning in your own sweat - the next you're encased in it. I would suspect that the next surprise will be a week of 90 degree temps in October. We've seen it before.

Does Mother Nature suffer from multiple seasonal personality disorder - a result of our meddling in her affairs? Or do we human beings simply refuse to believe we don't control everything and continue to be amazed and surprised - in denial, every freakin' year that when things don't go as we think they should, there is something terribly wrong? 

 Such a great life lesson - every year!

Frozen in Sweat • 8" X 8" watercolor framed to 12" X 12" • $250