Friday, December 16, 2022

#451 • The Big White Cometh

 Click here to purchase this painting #451

So here we are finally. Waiting for the first big dump of the year. There's always a bit of electricity in the air. The sky starts to darken in earnest. We scream, why didn't I have my snow tires put on, or I shoulda, woulda, coulda bought some in the first place. We frantically search basements and sheds for buried snow shovels. We gather survival supplies like chocolate "just in case." Candles!

I decided to thrash this out before the great white sheet is cemented at our feet where it will stay until Memorial Day. A glimpse at the last bare landscape of the season - a soon to be memory of the life that was once a sea of green.

The Big White Cometh  • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to "12 x 12" • $275

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

#450 • Hide and Be Sought

 Click here to purchase this painting #450

We play with it all summer.  Like a beach ball, we toss it up and over itself while we dance naked around a fire in wild abandonment, having been given permission to be primal and fiercely otherworldly. 

But come fall, we play another game with the moon. We slink through the darkness hiding from and dodging it's daggers of light - avoiding this persistent spy that seeps around the edges of drawn window shades. It's a game of-hide-and-be-sought we now play with the moon. To be caught is to give up to the brightest of white beams for all who can't be seen to see.

The Cool of the Moon • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Monday, November 21, 2022

#449 • Thanksgiving Patchwork Quilt


Colors and the weather have finally cooled off. The greens are disappearing. The ice reappearing. It's a late fall patchwork quilt show for all of those coming home to the coast of Maine this year.

For us up here in the mountains, the snow has taken down that show and replaced it with it's own. I'm not ready to paint that one yet.

Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels out there!

Thanksgiving Patchwork Quilt • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Monday, November 14, 2022

#448 • Trees Gone Bare

In this late fall landscape, now a patchwork of fields, hills and mountains dotted and covered with trees gone bare, I have seen the rational behind the structure of nature - the strength and stability of the old as it stimulates the free abandon of the new.

Monday, November 7, 2022

#447 • Just in Case


I painted this for myself to remember what the full moon looks like just in case it decides to stay eclipsed. It's election time - ya never know. 

Here you go - everything you need to know about tomorrow morning's lunar eclipse.

Tuesday, November 1, 2022

#446 • Flushing Out the Color


The color is ebbing into those deceptive muted and moody hues that most think signify the backside of spectacular. For those of us color hounds however, it is a most intriguing time of year. Like a good challenging who dunnit, we search the landscape, scanning back and forth, up and down - convinced of color there somewhere, knowing that if we blink at just the right time we'll flush it out.

Flushing Out the Color • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Monday, October 24, 2022

#445 • The River That Runs Through


 Click here to purchase this painting #445

Our property borders the Carrabassett River. Almost a week ago, as it consumed the torrential rain we received on it's journey through the valley, the river came up as fast and as dramatically as it does during spring runoff. There's nothing scarier than watching nature throw weight around. It's a reminder of what is ultimately the activities director here on Earth, and what can be a decisive but exquisite killer when riled up. 

In the meantime I conjured up an image of a beautiful, meandering and serene waterway because quite frankly, I don't have the guts to scare the shit out of myself more than I already do out there when I tempt nature.

The River That Runs Through • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12"• $275

Monday, October 17, 2022

#444 • Undulating Waves of Color


 Click here to purchase this painting #444

It doesn't matter whether of not we have late summer rains - the local knowledge claims more rain, brighter foliage, the fall foliage in Maine is always spectacular especially in the mountains where there are waves upon waves of undulating color. Muted now, the ridges are more at ease, more peaceful and quiet except for those ferocious gusts that fight for the remaining leaves which the trees gladly relinquish for winter bedding.

Undulating Waves of Color • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Friday, October 14, 2022

#443 • The Black of Fall


 Click here to purchase this painting #443

If I had to pick a season that inspires me as an artist the most, it would have to be fall. Not the bright colors, but the absence of in between - what isn't there like a good horror movie.

It's the phonics of words like onyx and obsidian, and midnight - the pinnacle of dark time.

It's the underneath where I see beginning, creation, possibility. To feel fear and be forced to empower primal senses in order to move ahead fully present, listening and feeling forward humbly on hands and knees, and then slowly rising to meet the great unknown as a warrior of light is a profound blessing.

The Black of Fall • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Thursday, September 22, 2022

#442 • Joan's View

 Click here to purchase this painting #442

Although we feel the expansiveness of the ocean while we sail, there are times when, without the distraction of a good movie or even a lousy one, we need to look at or listen to something other than us. We begin to crave a way to get outside of ourselves. So when we have an opportunity to get ashore to stretch our legs, we take it. Sometimes it's a stroll through towns and villages. Other times it's tree bathing or testing our physical aptitude climbing up and through rock gardens.

This day we were invited by friends to walkabout a beautiful private Maine island. Joan's well worn path through old trees stands bent and reshaped by relentless winds, other worldly and beyond iridescent green moss beds, and boulders sculpted by ancient geological gods made us all realize we had been granted a special gift. Peace and a deep breath.

Joan's View • 12" x 36" acrylic on cradles birch • $850

Thursday, June 9, 2022

#441 • Stonington Blues

Click here to purchase this painting #441

A sketch from Stonington looking over to Isle au Haut. It's all of Maine's blues in one view.

Stonington Blues • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Monday, March 28, 2022

#440 • Pushy Poppy

Click here to purchase this painting #440
All of us gardeners go snooping around the ground for signs of life as soon as the snow melts. We're like truffle hounds out there maniacally sniffing for a hint of fungi. So far I've got two daffodil shoots and a bunch of poppy. I don't remember the poppies popping so soon, but I can't remember what happened yesterday either. 

Personally, I think they're all pushing their luck right now. You want to hope Mother Nature knows what she's doing, but the climate is evolving so fast, maybe she, like us boomers who are on a non-stop treadmill to catch up with technology, might be on the same apparatus.

Pushy Poppies • 8' x 8" watercolor framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

#439 • Whispers From Beneath the Snow

Click here to purchase this painting #439

I took a trip to the coast to visit a friend this past weekend, and she has flowers - snow drops and crocus and lots of green shoots. They're always ahead of us down there until the sea breeze kicks in later this spring. Then we inlanders jump ahead. 

I've lost count, but last week may have been the third fake spring. So as not to give up hope - it tends to wane this time of year, here's a sketch of some spring flowers gifted to me on my birthday years ago from a friend's garden. They remind me that somewhere beneath the remaining piles of snow there are little shoots patiently waiting to break through. I think I hear them whispering, we're coming, we're coming! Though that could be a fake-out too!

Whispers From Beneath the Snow • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

#438 • Three Birch


Click here to purchase this painting #438

I always thought there was something special about birch trees. I found this piece posted by Nibwaakaa, The Indigenous Women's Ingenuity in the Great Lakes Region. The link is below.

"According to Ojibwe tradition, a spirit-boy named Winabojo once sought shelter from the Thunderbirds in the hollow interior of a birch tree after being chased by them from the birds' nest. The tough bark of the tree protected Winabojo from being attacked by the creatures, and upon emerging from his hiding place, Winabojo declared the birch tree would “forever protect and benefit the human race” with its durable and enduring bark (“Winabojo and the Birch Tree,” 1994). For this reason, birch bark is considered to be a trustworthy material for the creation of many Native American cultural objects, including the piece featured in this virtual exhibit."

Three Birch • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Friday, February 18, 2022

#437 • Gillman Pond Road Farm


Click here to purchase this painting #437

So what the heck, I thought we could all use a nice little summer scene to prolong that short hiatus from sub-zero temps we just had. It hopefully softens the blow of another belch of cold on the way.

Gillman Pond Road Farm • 8" x 8" acrylic framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Sunday, February 6, 2022

#436 • Snow Day in Kingfield


Click here to purchase this painting #436
It finally arrived. The snow day. A day that gives us a day off and a legitimate excuse to stop, slow down, get cozy, and do that thing you've been looking forward to doing since the fall when the snow day countdown began. It was the best day of the winter for us kids. Still is.

Snow Day in Kingfield • 8" x 8" watercolor and gouache framed to 12" x 12" • $250

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

#435 • And Then It Snowed

Click here to purchase this painting #435

And then it snowed in beautiful patterns throughout the western mountains, foothills and countryside. 


And Then It Snowed • 8" x 8" gouache framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Sunday, January 16, 2022

#434 • Cold Enough


Click here to purchase this painting #434

There's no reason for the outside temperature in Maine to go sub zero. If it helped kill ticks I'd say bring it on. But it doesn't. I'm all for supporting our local polar ice cap, but damn, it's way up there and we're down here. I realize it makes no sense and is a waste of time to grouse about the weather - there are way more critical things to think about out there. Like for instance, climate change.

Cold Enough • 8" x 8" gouache framed to 12" x 12" • $275

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

#433 • Fall Memory

Click here to purchase this painting #433 

A fall memory to warm us all up.

Fall Memory • 8"x 8" gouache framed to 12" x 12" • $275