Ode d'Eau



Spiral Sky, Lake Carnico at Sunset



Brad was elaborating on lake themed props for the Art of Carnico show--lures, nets, a kayak or two, and perhaps a merhorse--causing me to think back on waters I have known and why I love being close to water. When I was a child, my grandparents had a resort by Big Star Lake in Michigan. Every summer for a couple of weeks, we enjoyed a water-immersed vacation, skiing, pedaling on the aqua bike and swimming across the lake to the Odd Fellows camp (a mile swim!) The boys did a lot of fishing and naturally, we were brown as bears by the end of our stay. We stayed in rustic cottages. Showers were located in the resort's garage and I learned to love the smell of petrol (there was a gas-pump, supplying fuel for all the motor boats.)  When I was in high school, my grandmother could no longer take the winters in Michigan so my grandparents moved to Florida.  My parents divorce also brought family vacations to an end.



Mary in Maine



      As it happened, my mother married a man who grew up in Maine on a bay one over from Frenchman's Bay and Bar Harbor. After my step-father's retirement, they moved up to Maine. Thus began summer vacations (much abbreviated) by the ocean in Down East Maine. The water was icy-cold, so most of the enjoyment was found on or by the water. At the end of Roger's Point, there was a little high tide island with a house on it, which was a favorite low tide destination. The best  time of day in Maine was early in the morning, sitting on the porch sipping coffee and listening to and watching the lobster men pull their traps. It was not unlike slow-motion bees making the rounds. It was a comforting and delightful coincidence when I discovered early one morning on the deck at Carnico with a cup of java, that tractors and farm trucks have a similar sound and cadence. Lake Carnico provides all the joys of water that I care to carry into my senior years. The water is of mild temperature compared to coastal Maine and tamer for trips out in the Poke boat. The vista is more compact to be sure, but there is an unexpected diversity of birds and mammals. I particularly liked when the lost juvenile brown pelican visited for about a month. 

    Brad is right. Lake Carnico is a treasure, a surprising treasure found right along US 68. The Art of Carnico show will be held Saturday, August 20, 2011, from 10 am to 5 pm at The Corner Studio, 240 East Main Street, in beautiful downtown Carlisle.  Come for a visit and enjoy a little summer vacation while you're at it!



Seeing Four Leaf Clover

If last year was my juste milieu year, and it was; then this must be my clover year. I'll be writing more about this another time, but even I am a little surprised at the number of four leaf (and sometimes, five and a six leaf) clover I have spotted this year.  The truth is that everyone can be spotting such clover.  It is a banner year for clover--and the honeybees seem to be everywhere--a happy sign.  How curious though, that sometimes I will spot multiple extra-leafed clover and then go for days or weeks without seeing them.  Once, I seem to spot them, there they are, so obvious. 

The first time I spotted a four leaf clover, I spotted two. I remember the day, it was April 9th, but I can't remember the year.  It was several years before I spotted another one.  That one was April 22, 2010.  David was in the hospital.  I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with worrying about him, keeping the kids updated and walking the dog.  I was briefly home from the hospital, walking the dog and talking to my sister on my cell phone when I looked down and saw a very obvious four leaf clover.  True, I took this as a sign, even though as Father Paul pointed out recently, this is a magical view of things. But I was in need of a good sign and there is was, plain as can be. This tided me along for a good while. I did not see another four leaf clover until this April 20th.  We had just learned that Mary would be going to Brittany to be a teacher's assistant.  It was wonderful news, and a year from the day that David went to the hospital.  I took Carly for a walk and voila! another four leaf clover.  Then I just kept finding them. 

       Father Paul is right, it is not magic.  It is probably just being willing to see (and spend a lot of time staring at the ground--also bending over. Meg noted recently, as we searched for the elusive four leaf, that we probably appeared to have lost a contact lens.)  Being willing to see  is also good for one's self.  The more clearly I see myself, the better my life seems to work.  Instead of constantly trying to fit into a mold, I am starting to just be who I am, no more, no less.  My little green totems appear to be affirmation, magic or no.

Vantage Points

The backdrop for my week was grid-locked Washington, D.C., so my experiences in the last few days have been liberating.  Wednesday evening was the last of four Experimenting with Watercolor & Pastel classes (a new session starts August 10th.) I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching these classes and seeing vicariously through other peoples' lenses on life.  One student approached me early on and said that she is visually impaired; she would need to be close to me, so she could see what I was demonstrating. As it turned out, she painted the most elegant renderings of birds.  Her watercolor work was exquisite!  Clearly, 20/20 vision is not nearly so important as an inner comprehension. Love trumps perfection.

The next evening found David and me at Mary-Louise and Woody's for a vestry meeting (David) and 10th wedding anniversary for Mother Chris and Father Paul.  Mary-Louise had her studio open and the non-vestry hangers-on were free to range, just like the chickens. Oil paintings filled the narrow platforms, custom-crafted by Woody.  Tucked among the oil paintings were lovely watercolor and Sharpie sketches. Their economy was striking. With just a few washes and lines, you could go along the path and have an overview of the whole village. These beautiful visions come naturally to Mary-Louise--I have to admit to a certain jealousy!



        On Friday, we enjoyed a fete-champetre in Estill's garden.  There was a thrilling discussion of art (Estill is an art historian, as is Mother Chris.) I learned about Magic Realism and George Tooker.  Mother Chris and Father Paul knew George Tooker. There was also a spirited discussion about life. Estill told us that he has resolved to speak out against binary thinking. Now there is some balm for the world! The lovely banter continued as the sun began its descent. I remarked on the setting sun and Estill proclaimed, "That is the nineteenth century!" How appropriate that he is able to witness this every evening he is home.

         On Saturday, David and I went to the Evensong at St. Michael's in Lexington. Gene Robinson, the Bishop of New Hampshire was speaking after the evensong.  St. Michael's has an airy and open sanctuary.  The windows are clear, and I was able to see tree tops and clouds. The sun shined on our gathering; some people even had to put on sunglasses.  It was bright! This sense of light and openness reflected my feeling. I was part of a living faith, here and now. Perhaps everyone is different.  We can not help but have different vantage points. But we can come together and enjoy view.









The nineteenth century



Good Woods

If I had my wits about me, I would have called this show Good Woods, but it came to me too late.  Showing my paintings at Good Foods Market & Cafe does bring several of my loves together.  Of course, there is good food.  What's not to love about that?  I've been a member of the Co-op for over 30 years. Back in the day, I lived in downtown Lexington and the co-op was on Short Street, a short walk from my apartment.  Everything was in bulk bins. My typical purchase was beans, brown rice and nutritional yeast.  So, some things have changed. Twenty years ago, I posted recipes in the co-op newsletter.  My family did not have a computer then, so I would go to the co-op and type up the recipes on the co-op computer.  What a joy it is to have a computer of one's own! I have evolved and so has the co-op.

         Still, a love for walking in the woods is a constant.  This is something I have enjoyed since childhood, back even longer than thirty years.  As David helped me hang the show (on the wall in the Cafe side of Good Foods) people would come up to talk about the images in the paintings.  Most are set in Kentucky; at Floracliff, Blue Licks and Carnico.  I was surprised how many people have connections to these places.  Dr. Wayne Davis and his wife and daughter were at Good Foods. Dr. Davis worked with Dr. Mary Wharton who established Floracliff in southern Fayette County.  The Davis's have also placed bluebird houses at Blue Licks. They planned on heading out that way soon to check on them (and enjoy the beauty.) Karen spoke of hiking at Blue Licks when her sons' ages were single digits.  Blue Licks is one of my favorite places and it was good to know that it is loved by others.

         I am celebrating these loves in my paintings. Six of the paintings are tall and narrow, 48x16". The center painting (of  Floracliff) is 48x36".  The seven paintings fill the wall; the exhibiting space is approximately four by eighteen feet.  The tall, narrow paintings present a slice of a vision I have come upon in the woods.  Good Foods Market & Cafe is located at 455 Southland Drive in Lexington, KY.  The hours are 8 am to 10 pm everyday.  I hope you get a chance to step into the cool woods this summer. Into the Woods (as it is called) is up through August. Good Foods is simply the best place to shop for healthy, delicious and local food!

Living with Art



Painting by David B. Johnson. Sideboard built by David C. Johnson

 Recently, an artist posted a photograph and what struck me about the image was the big, blank wall in the background.  This made me think about what motivates artists to create.  Perhaps for some artists, it is the making that most delights.  For me, it is simply the joy of seeing.  I make art so I can see an image always. In the making of a painting, an image is imprinted on my heart.

       Before my serious pursuit of art making, David and I collected art.  I enjoyed seeing the world through an other's eyes and I still do.  Living with paintings and seeing them everyday brings a lot of joy. It is actually this joy of seeing and living with other artists' work that pushed me to create my own artwork.  There were scenes that I wanted to capture and keep.  I wanted to be able to wake up in the morning and see an apple tree in Browning's Orchard.  I wanted to remember Jacob and Mary testing the cold water of Gouldsboro Bay in Maine.  Later, I wanted to learn more about my mother's and my father's families; so I painted them.  It worked!  I came to know family members I had never met by studying their image very closely.



Center painting by Diane Kahlo, Pastoral Symphony. Surrounding paintings from the Ancestral Album series, Kathy Rees Johnson.

   

     Now, I am expanding my viewpoint by teaching. Encouraging the development of a personal visual vocabulary, once again, I am able to vicariously see the world through others' eyes. For me, this is an exhilarating experience: the joy of seeing how others see!         

    Recently, I revisited an article on Pierre Bonnard. He declared that he did not so much care about painting and drawing; he just wanted to live the artist's life.  This holds deep meaning for me. Experiencing the world through its beauty (not mere prettiness!) is what informs and feeds my spirit. Painting allows me hold on to this beauty.



If there is a photo taken at home, there is a painting somewhere in the scene.  Behind John and his two short aunts, is Fay Moore's Pastorale.



Artful Hospital-ity

David was in the hospital recently and this gave me the opportunity to witness the power of design on humanity (or at least, myself.)  I drove him to the University of Kentucky emergency room.  We parked in the garage and learned that we could take a special van right to the emergency room door. This was good, because the UK hospital is opening its new, major building complex, and I was not sure where everything was located.  However, when it came time to run home and walk the dog, I wanted to check out the new corridors and the bridge which allows you to overpass the busy street and arrive at the garage.  I was in for a treat. On my way, there were displayed photographs from Guy Mendes' 40/40 collection. One of these is a photo Anna and Harlan Hubbard that Meg has procured for the Little Fine Arts Library's Hubbard Wall.  I walked up the steps and was met with the expansive, almost breezy bridge over Limestone.  There were tall windows along the Guy Mendes hall and the bridge was fully fenestrated, allowing the a re-entrance into the larger world. It was so refreshing that I decided I would travel this way every time.
        The second day in the hospital, David was transferred to a room in the original hospital. This was great, because it meant I had a last chance to be in the building where my father worked (he was an original UK Medical school faculty member. We were even on the same floor as his lab--for a few hours.)  The new location(s) allowed me to experience the screened wall (in the photo above, behind Mary) which features photos and videos of Kentucky people, horses and scenes of all sorts.  There is a quote by Jesse Stuart.  It is a real experience!
      There was art in the emergency room lobby and in each individual room.  There is art along the new, expansive corridors (the word "hall" doesn't do them justice.) I liked some of the art better than others, but it makes a refreshing difference to have Kentucky scenes to gaze at as you might be fretting over a loved one. It is healing!
      I do not have any art work in the UK hospital, but I do have several pieces in the Fleming County Hospital.  That hospital is quite beautiful and they developed this concept before the UK hospital.  They selected work from mostly regional artists and many of the scenes are local, Fleming County scenes.  In the cafeteria, they have a revolving exhibit.  In fact, I have a selection of horse paintings up there (though probably not for much longer).

     I never thought I would say this, but I miss walking along those spacious, beautiful corridors of the new UK hospital!  Just look at this sky!

Green

A couple of years ago, LexArts (the local arts council) sponsored a Kentucky artists exhibit.  Accompanying that was a panel and artist discussion on being a working artist in Kentucky.  Naturally, there was a decent amount of grumbling. To me, the most interesting complaint was voiced by an artist who proclaimed that he didn't really like to paint the Kentucky landscape, because he hated the color green.  He had a point.  If you don't like the color green, the Kentucky landscape would be a challenge.  Even if you like green, the color is a challenge. Even photographing green is a challenge. If you were to exactly replicate the green in a photograph on a painting, the result would look fakey.  The truth is that when you want to represent green in a painting, you need to see all the colors that are underneath and on top of it. For example, in the painting to the left, yellow and deep red watercolor are painted underneath the pastel. And highlights of yellow are generously sprinkled over the green pastel.

These are the kinds of things we will be talking about during my four week class at the Lexington Art Academy: Experimenting with Watercolor and Pastel. Knowing what you are seeing is more important than having a technique down pat.  Being willing to try something to achieve what you want is also important.  Believe me, this will be a safe environment for giving it a try and being yourself! The class will be from 7-9 pm on four Wednesdays, starting June 22nd.  To register and find out more information please visit the Lexington Art Academy website: http://www.lexingtonartacademy.com/.  Hope to see you in class!