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.

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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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Nollaig shona duit! & residency

'Nollaig shona duit!' 

Happy Christmas!

'Nollaig faoi shéan is faoi shonas duit.'
A prosperous and happy Christmas to you.

I thought these Irish sayings appropriate, having joyfully received an early Christmas gift in the mail: I have been accepted into a residency at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in Ireland!

Still reeling--more later but now time to celebrate with a pint of Guinness!

May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Christmas.

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Winter Solstice

Well, it’s 2AM on Tuesday the 21st of December--and the earth will align for two special events - - a total eclipse of the moon, and the winter solstice when winter officially begins.

The night sky has been so beautiful..I painted this from my window around 7:30PM until 11:30 and will definitely go back into it as it's still very rough around the edges, so to speak.

As well I need to adjust the palette. It was so dark while I was working that I was scooping up what I thought was one colour only to find..NOT.
This needs to be more cohesive/refined and perhaps I will glaze when completely dry. As well, I  am having  problems with the M Graham whites. They are not opaque- they are  too transparent and fluid aka walnut oil-I like fluidity and transparency in some of their coloured pigments, but not  white! I had run out of KAMA (beautiful Canadian handmade paint) --what a difference and I will be ordering some today. Considering the time of year I had better stock up.

I try to keep this blog ‘clean’ i.e. strictly art, but considering my art is inspired by my environment I thought I would share my outdoor studio and 3 reasons that have fostered my appreciation for the great outdoors.

I’m still working on the commission mentioned earlier and with family illness I haven’t had much time to paint, but am optimistic things will turn. In the meantime, I am sharing another ‘December’ painting.

This little painting has been good for me and it was hard to let it go when sold. It not only represented a significant time in my personal life but jurors loved it –even won first place in a regional public gallery exhibition.

December, Remains of the Day

oil on canvas

11x14in, 2010

SOLD

I had been working all day on a larger studio painting and just killing it –getting very frustrated—so I opened the door to get some air and again, on the fly, looked out and there it was. I never moved so quickly as to when I wheeled my painting table over and strapped that canvas onto the easel..am wondering if I could generate the same energy (of the painting, not me!) on a much larger scale…

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This week I’m in the studio working on a commission- from one of my ‘October’ paintings as reference. On this December day, however, the temperature is _9C .

Snow-worthy for sure although it hasn’t arrived in this part of Southern Ontario- yet- except for a light dusting. I hope it holds off until next week when I have some time to paint it. In the meantime I thought I’d share another of my December vineyards from seasons past.

December, Remains of the Day

oil on canvas

11x14in, 2008

I remember sitting right in the snow to paint it. I have a ‘sleeping-bag’ type coat that goes down to my ankles and I can tuck it under to stay warm. (I think it is my favourite piece of clothing. Huge pockets to put things in from daily field walks—milkweed pods, stones, the occasional animal part that my dogs have discovered).

I was attracted to the remains of one of those shimmering blue-bright December days and accompanied the incoming shifting hues of light.

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a wee show..

A few of my paintings are up at the Grimsby Public Library as well as the Art Gallery lobby so if you're in the area they would love to see you... 

 January Ice Vines

oil on canvas

24x40in, 2008

 

January Ice Vines

oil on canvas

20x36in, 2008

February

oil on canvas

36x48in, 2007

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 I really have a problem with the loss of daylight so when I lose the light in the early evening I usually work from a still life or a plein air sketch-referenced larger work. Controlled light is great but I still crave the challenge of changing light.

I was in the studio about to close the blinds --on the fly glanced out the window and low and behold, Christmas lights! This was an excuse to use pure pigment and it was interesting to build up the saturated darks and value shifts. I have a very large knife with different angle edges and used it a lot—on a larger canvas I could probably get away with a brush. I do like working with the knife-really really thin and wet paint though—not fond of the consistent strokes and ‘icing’ look that can sometimes happen when using a knife with thicker paint. I’m liking the Canadian Balsam/linseed oil as the paint really glides and it dries to a luminous gloss.

December, Remains of the Day

oil on canvas

9x12in, 2010

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'All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.'

Havelock Ellis

November, Letting Go
oil on canvas
24x48in, 2010
available

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For me November brings a new cycle of inspiration and tends to be one of my most prolific months. I was reviewing 'November' paintings of past seasons going back to 2007 and have shared below. As I write there are already a couple of ‘Novembers’ waiting on the easel in various states of ‘undress’.

November

oil on canvas

16x20in, 2009

SOLD

November, above Elmtree Road

oil on canvas

24x24in, 2008

SOLD

November

oil on canvas

18x30in, 2007

SOLD

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 Below is another image that is up for auction on Open Studio 'Live'.

It was painted and posted to my blog last November. Since I have lost that blog,  I thought I'd re-visit the post and have included it under the image..

 November

(small gift series)

oil on canvas

6x6in, 2009, available

November, 2009

Today in the thick grey fog and drizzle I came upon this nest very low among the wild grasses. I like to think it is that of a Bobolink, although I've read they usually nest right on the ground.

Bobolinks nest in hay-fields and meadows across the northern United States and southern Canada during the summer months of May through early July, and I am happy to say that each year I've had the pleasure of seeing and hearing more and more of them on the Niagara escarpment.

Bob

oil on canvas, 6x6in, private collection

 

The Bobolink makes one of the longest migrations in the western hemisphere—a round trip of approximately 20,000 km (12,400 miles)! They migrate to the vast grasslands of southwestern Brazil, Paraguay, and northern Argentina to spend the austral spring and summer months of November through March.

Their song has been vividly described as "a bubbling delirium of ecstatic music that flows from the gifted throat of the bird like sparkling champagne," "a mad, reckless song-fantasia, an outbreak of pent-up, irrepressible glee," and as "a tinkle of fairy music, like the strains of an old Greek harp." 

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November 11: Remembrance Day, Poppy Day, Armistice Day , Veterans Day

November 11 is a memorial day observed in Commonwealth countries to remember the sacrifices of members of the armed forces and civilians in war, specifically since the First World War.

The image below was painted nine years ago in response to the coordinated suicide attacks by al-Qaeda upon the United States on September 11, 2001.

I, like most, was numb with shock and grief—the magnitude was horrific and unbearable. I remember being out for a walk and compelled to return to the studio. I had an already - prepared 4 x 5ft canvas for a night painting and it was primed with dark oil over reflective marble dust and mica. I lifted the large canvas onto my easel and recall dipping a large brush into red molten wax (encaustic). I know this sounds macabre but in making the mark of the cross, the warm wax flowed like blood. The process was like lucid dreaming.  Afterwords  I could see it was all about the blood shed and souls lost in the crossfire of religion's dichotomy.

Lest We forget

oil/encaustic on canvas

4ftx5ft

  2001

In Flanders Fields

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

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Online Art Auction Opens

This is one of my plein air paintings available at Open Studio 'LIVE", an online art auction and raffle with portion of proceeds to benefit McNally House Hospice.

check it out here.

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November. small gift series

oil on canvas, 6x6in

Jan Yates, SCA

Value:$120

Starting BID: $45.

bid HERE


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It certainly feels like November.

This evening when I opened the door to let the dogs in, the air had that crisp winter chill, the moonlit sky was filled with clouds and stars—and to really make it for me was the sound of the coyotes yip yip yipping—glad they’re still around!

This is a view from my studio window that I started on a grey day last week and finished up today, which was challenging because today was sunny and the leaves are now gone. But I was really interested in the dialogue between the 2 trees. I don’t know—and I suppose I don’t care-what kind they are, except that my neighbour planted them forty years ago..wow—and I love them..they light up bright pink just before the sun goes down—another painting..

November (last dance)

oil on canvas

18x24in, 2010

available


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