Pleinair Painting

Last week I completed this painting in Kensington Metro Park on one of those days when it's so beautiful, you're just happy to be alive to experience it. It's paintings like these that I find most difficult to sell. Not because I am in love with the painting, but because I don't want to part with the sense memories that is brings back every time I see it. It was a quiet day with a slight cool breeze, and so sitting partially in the sun, the temperature was perfect. It was too early for bugs. Jacque, my dog, played along the shore or laid in the grass by my feet, rolling first on one side and then the other to warm his fur in the sun. I have a sense of place when I look at this painting. Something that you don't possess unless you have personally visited a place and spent time there. I'll never forget going to the Grand Canyon and seeing it for the first time after years of looking at spectacular photos and paintings. Nothing could have prepared me for the expe

A fews days ago, I created this video as a tribute to my constant companions over the years. Although I created it to be viewed on a full screen TV, and not as a .mov file, you can get the general sentiment of the film. My dogs have always gone with me on my journeys. In the early days of auditioning and singing around the country, my dog Elsa would even go into the dressing rooms with me in the bowels of theaters around the country. She would sing with me when I was warming up. She loved to sing, but only to my voice. Once when I was singing a Verdi Requiem on stage for the Illinois Symphony, I came to the final movement that starts with the soprano voice singing "Requiem" rising out of total silence. Somewhere off in the distance, I heard Elsa starting to howl. I looked in despair to the stage manager and saw a flurry of activity off stage. Fortunately, I was told that the audience had not heard it, however the chorus and I certainly had. Since Elsa had never done anythi

Recently I was asked to do a mural for the celebration of the 175th Anniversary of Stockbridge and the surrounding areas. This mural was done over 5 days in the Heritage Elementary School in Stockbridge. I worked with several hundred 5th graders over a period of 4 days, and then finished the final details on the mural. It is always an amazing experience to work with students. I find that young adults have no fear and with a little instruction, can paint in exactly the style that is required. Of course, it helps if you have a strong vision for the mural, but you also have to let go of any expectations. Sometimes wonderful things can happen, like running paint that creates branches or an unexpected large flower added by a student. In meeting with a young artist the other day, I was struck by her enthusiasm and energy. Her ideas were big, and at the time, all I could think about was how much work it would take to make them happen. Then, I remembered a conversation I had had with an ol

After posting this latest watercolor on my Facebook page, one of my friends commented "Move over, Georgia!" Although I prefer to think of my flowers as singers rather than sex organs, I appreciated the compliment. Painting flowers in plen-air is a wonderful experience. I did my first one this summer in a friends garden. ("Stairway to Heaven-Blue Iris" is currently on display at the Ed Gray Gallery in Calumet, Michigan.) What amazed me so much was the movement of the flowers even on the calmest of days. Whenever I picked out a flower to photograph, it would start swaying gently back and forth. This was not my imagination, as I am a steady handed photographer and there was not even the slightest breeze. I believe the flowers were responding to my intense admiration of them. After taking several photos for later reference and possible studio paintings, I selected one in the field and began painting. As I painted, everything became very quiet. I started to s

Every now and then, I revisit some of the writings I made during my stay in the Porcupine Mountains. This extended time alone in the woods served as a wake up call for me not only as an artist, but as a human being. I was an artist in residency for two weeks and rarely left the woods for anything except the bare necessities. However, after a week and a half in the woods, I suddenly longed for contact with the outside world. I needed to get back in touch, and I kept hearing the nagging voice of responsibility directing me to check my phone messages. " I rummaged through the stuff on my passenger seat in the car and located my cell phone. But, it didn't even display a reception bar. Instead, It said sadly "searching for service." And it kept displaying that same message no matter where I drove. In fact, I started to feel a little sorry for it, because I knew it would never find the service it was seeking. My last link to the civilized world had been in a li