The Road Less Traveled

The Road not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

January

oil on canvas

24x40in, 2011

I had posted this last night, but could not get the colours right with my program. There is a lot more purple than blue in the snow, and the yellow isn't as overwhelming. I will take a better photograph tomorrow. It amazes me one can achieve so many effects with a good image program via computer, but when it comes to translating an exact colour reading for a painting, it is a lost art to me..below is the same image but different colour settings and still doesn't come close...
*update--I re-shot/re-posted image since writing this and it now reads true)

I've wanted to paint from this location for a very long time and it is the same path, but different view and atmosphere, as 'January, remains of the day' posted on New Years. I've learned not to question inspiration, but quietly observe as paintings unfold and reveal themselves. Now looking somewhat objectively I see that painting 'home' seems to be my driving force..hmmm, maybe change is waiting and these works are letting me go and leading the way.

~

Heart to Heart auction of art

I have finally finished setting up the online auction blog for our art gallery.

'Heart to Heart' is Jordan Art Gallery's 2nd annual exhibition and fundraiser, with all proceeds of our exciting new art raffle going to the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Ontario. It's easy to bid online for original work, made with love in Niagara by the Jordan Art Gallery artist/owners.

Heart to Heart Auction of Art officially opens February 1~27, but you can preview available work here.

Included below are a few of my paintings available to bid on.

a time to cast away

Last night I had a dream about loss-I think a culmination of what I am going through with my Mother but also upon reading that artist Marc Dalessio’s beloved and beautiful young wife just passed away from a malignant brain tumour. Loss is inevitable and something all of us share- I don’t know whether that makes it any easier but there is comfort in the knowing. I wish I was better at articulating my feelings with words.

January, A Time to Cast Away

oil on canvas

30x40in, 2009

encaustic

 


A few new encaustic paintings in the experimental stage. I've worked in this beautiful medium on and off for quite a few  years, and they have synthesized with my outdoor paintings and drawings made during daily hikes-


ie the uprooted field flowers and fragments embedded around the encaustic paintings were pulled from the earth in the same area.

Black eyed susans, wild asters, milkweed, queen anne's lace, goldenrod, wheat, alfalfa and seeds are preserved forever, planted and embroidered in rich layers of natural beeswax. (To view earlier work, visit here.)

Having said that, lately the medium has been taking me somewhere new, and I am easily led. 

Passing a Way

encaustic on panel

10x14in, 2011

 

Passing a Way

encaustic on panels

10x14in, 2011

over the hill

Plein air painting conjures up romantic images of artists standing in warm colour drenched meadows on bright sunny days, happily painting and smiling without a care in the world. It can happen like that, but more often than not we brave the elements—gales of wind arising from nowhere tossing canvas just as we are about to make THE stroke—or mosquitoes and midges embedding themselves into our wet paintings and eating us alive at the same time. The sudden hailstorms, unwelcome skunks or worse, onlookers wanting to chat. But even with all these deterrents out we go, ready to embrace whatever nature chooses to throw our way.

The urge of a winter sky and white deep (really deep) snow came over me yesterday and I had to get out. What I hate about winter outside is how long it takes to dress for it. To make matters worse, after bundling up with wool hat, big down- to –ankles- sleeping bag coat, wool shawl wrapped over my head and hat, backpack, painting board and gear, I went to slip on my snow boots only to find a hole! But I was bound and determined to get out there and spotted my partner’s huge black Frankenstein-looking boots so on they went-I figured he wouldn’t mind since he wasn’t home. Out we finally trudged and what a vision –my huge bundle of blackness along the white winter path accompanied by my canine entourage.

I should have known it was to be one of those days that did not want to abide.
The massive boots were so heavy that every step through that dense snow was like lifting an elephant. And when I finally made it to the hill that I wanted to paint from, I opened my gear just as the dogs were wrestling near by so everything was immediately covered with snow. Then when I turned to pick up my paint board that had fallen over I lost my footing and fell—rolling down the hill, finally stopping—but couldn’t get up! There I lay like a Goodyear blimp, captured by the snow, flailing my arms and trying to lift my legs but the weight of those massive boots wouldn’t let me maneuver myself and it took what felt like an eternity before I got my bearings. In that moment I just lay there, visualizing how absolutely ridiculous and absurd I must look and thinking how foolish I was (and really being thankful no one was around)–and for what? I am getting too old for this—no more! Then I managed to hoist myself up aka a dog, brushed off the snow and climbed back up the hill to paint.

January (winter field)

oil on canvas

9x12in, 2011

available

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Little January

Movement and rhythm are continuous in our natural world, and often emphasized when caught and controlled. Rows of bound vines continue to tantalize me. While working on this painting (view from my kitchen) I was listening to a CD of Irish poetry a friend had given me. I jokingly told her that my paintings would soon be vineyards on the sea..which got me to thinking perhaps that is the appeal—the movement and rhythm emulating the sea’s continuous ebb and flow.

January

oil on canvas

18x24in, 2011

Little January

Tapped at my door today.

And said, "Put on your winter wraps,

And come outdoors to play."

Little January

Is always full of fun;

Until the set of sun.

Little January

Will stay a month with me

And we will have such jolly times -

Just come along and see.

- Winifred C. Marshall

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new year

'New Year's eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights" Hamilton Wright Mabie

I have walked this path every day for 10 years—and it is always the first time.

January, Remains of the Day

oil on canvas

24x36in, 2011

available

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