night moves

It is a struggle for me to paint with oil under artificial light, however  with these #/*#%!!^ shorter days and my schedule, I have no choice. I often switch over to  encaustic at night because I am working flat and don’t have an issue with glare-but upright on the easel is an altogether different story.

I have spent more time getting the right bulbs, adjusting lights, then glare, then adjusting, then glare-however I think I've finally gotten to where it is fairly even, although I might have to glaze work when I asses it in natural  daylight.

So here is a new painting in progress-30x40in. Limited pallet-again my favourite winter combination. Not sure how far I will go with it. 

I do like making art at night as my mind is empty of daily left brain jargon and open to a myriad of possibility.

spark

 It’s interesting what ‘sparks’ inspiration. Last summer I worked on a series of small nocturnes(firefly moondance), incorporating them with my encaustic work. 

This week someone posted a simple poem on facebook. It beckoned me to re-visit the theme-on a larger scale.

 I also think it resonated because of the project that I will be presenting on Saturday. I grieve for my Mother-I crave her physical presence. At present, the physicality of making art settles this longing, allowing-for a time- peace and acceptance.

Firefly Moondance, oil/cold wax on canvas, 24x36in, 2012

Firefly...

As subtle as a fairy's sigh,
aloft on summer's velvet night,
the blinking of a firefly
anoints the dark with specks of light.
It's said that they illuminate
the spirits of our loved ones gone,
who wink at us from heaven's gate
and flash their love, like sparks of dawn.

These creatures, magical and small,
are bearers of immortal souls
who come to comfort one and all
by glowing soft like warming coals.
So in that moment, brief and bright,
we lay our grief and sorrow by,
and smile each time we catch the sight
of the elusive firefly.

Katharine L. Sparrow