Monday, March 29, 2021
Saturday, March 27, 2021
Friday, March 26, 2021
Wednesday, March 24, 2021
Tuesday, March 23, 2021
For many years, no one I knew well, no one in my immediate family, died. I was frightened that one day someone would die, and I would not know what to say or do. Finally, the time came, and my mother-in-law, my parents, a good friend, my adult son, and a 19-year-old dog died in the space of seven years. I learned what it was to grieve, why it was okay that I had not known how I would feel. It is always painful and sorrowful. It fades to a dull ache over time, though it never leaves completely. Since then there have been more deaths, and I have come to view them philosophically as a simple change in form.
When she was alive, my mother painted our apple tree, which was old, and had lost most of its limbs, when it was blooming. My sister Robyn has that painting. Today I did this diptych of some trees in our neighborhood, near the bayou, and it is very reminiscent of Mom's painting of the apple tree. I remember my loved ones and beloved dogs, and I hope they have gone on to something new, an adventure, a new form. Each person and pet gave me so much. I am deeply grateful to them for being part of my life.
Saturday, March 20, 2021
We had to euthanize our dog Bo on Wednesday, and I have not felt cheerful enough to work in the studio until today. This was a sheet of watercolor paper that I wiped my paintbrushes off onto, and I painted on it today with off-white to make hard-edged shapes. Then I added the squiggles, which I made from artist's tissue, coated with acrylic gel medium, dried, then painted on them. The medium makes the tissue transparent, so I can cut them out and look at them on different areas of the painting and decide where they look best. Just a warmup exercise for fun.
I also cleaned up the studio and organized all my collage papers into drawers by color, just the primaries and secondaries (yellow, orange, red, violet, blue, and green).
This is one part of the painting I did in the "cruciform" composition. I did not care for the 30"x40" canvas, but this part and another small part were appealing. Unfortunately, because there are so many layers on the canvas, I can't re-stretch it properly, so it will just be for me to look at.