Kentucky's True Colors

Is Kentucky truly blue or cardinally red? Neither, I say! No Kentucky's true colors, from east to west, north to south are warm cedar green and redbud violet. You can tell this is true if you travel the state, particularly at this time of year. The Eastern Red Cedar is greatly undervalued. It provides a handsome structure to the landscape, every bit as effective as those pointy Tuscan cedars. When they reach a certain age, the cedar trunk has a bleached look, a lovely foil to the deep foliage. In winter, icy blue berries (actually pine cones) grace the branches. This brings up the point that this variety of cedar is actually a juniper. But my favorite time of year for the cedar is in the spring when it is accented with the striking violet of the red bud blossoms which generously populate the Kentucky landscape. I love driving along the interstates and parkways of Kentucky in spring and viewing this most lovely of combos!
   

      Now, another question is which university is the true university of Kentucky. That is easy to answer as well. The University of Kentucky is the land-grant, flagstaff university of our state. In my opinion, the work of the University of Kentucky does more to make manifest the common wealth  of Kentucky than any other institution. There are extension agents working with citizens from Maysville to Mayfield and Paducah to Pikeville.  The Gluck Equine Research Center is a major support to Kentucky's signature industry. The A.B. Chandler Hospital is a life saver for folks with serious ailments. One has only to dip very slightly into the work of the UK Libraries to understand the dizzying number of ways in which the University affects the whole state and beyond. I haven't even mentioned the number one reason for UK's dominance in Kentucky--it makes higher education possible for more Kentuckians. No matter what happens on Saturday, March 31, 2012, this will still be true.

    (Still, I hope UK wins...!)

Spring Renewal

Field trip to the Prichard home

The profusion of spring blooms is reminding me of a special time in my life. For a decade, I took workshops with Fay Moore and they were often held at the end of April into the first of May. Fay would be in the state for Keeneland and the Derby; she is an amazing sporting artist.

   I would leave early in the morning to drive to Versailles (Heike Pickett hosted the workshops) and the sun would back light the dogwood and redbud as I headed out. Tulips were out and the smell of Spring was everywhere. Several of the workshops focused on landscapes, so we would be outside. Back inside, Heike always had a beautiful setting with artwork (of course), fresh flowers and a tasty luncheon.

   You can't deny that this is a glorious time of year, but taking these workshops intensified my perception. I actually stopped and "consumed" the beauty. This has had a lasting effect on my life. Making art has allowed me to take in the beauty around me and it forms my life. So this year, as the buds burst, I am feasting once again. And you can, too!

On March 27th, I will start a four week session (Tuesdays, 1:30 - 3:30 pm) of Experimenting with Watercolor and Pastel at the Lexington Art Academy. This is probably going to be your last time to take a class with me at LAA, and certainly it will be a chance to revel in the beauty of Spring! Hope to see you!

March in Kentucky

Daffodils and 5inches of snow

I woke up at 1 am Monday morning. A soft light was coming into the bedroom and I went to investigate. Light was reflecting off the snow that had blanketed everything in the backyard. Big wads of snow were floating down through the illuminated cone of the  security light in the yard behind us. It was so beautiful, I had to just sit there and watch. These scenes don't last forever. At a more appropriate time for rising, I got up and simply reveled in the gorgeousness. When Carly and I set out for a walk, in one direction the sky was brightening and the blue was rich and fresh. Then, heading on down the street and looking the other way, the sky was a deep steel gray, like a winter storm coming upon us. The tops of the snow coated trees were brilliantly white in comparison. I was so delighted with this visual feast, and I felt terribly guilty about it.

      Just a couple of days earlier, powerful winds blew through our area and many people lost their lives. Swaths of forest were chewed up and spit out along with any houses that were in the way. After the snow fell, reporters were constantly saying that insult was added to injury, as people sifted through the destruction in the cold and wet. It was March in Kentucky.

      Nineteen years ago in March, we had a huge snow fall of almost two feet. My kids were little, six and almost four. The crocuses were out and the snow quickly swallowed them up. The snow was already pretty high when my father came by before heading home to his farm in Jessamine County. He was in town to see some patients.

      The next morning was a beautiful sunny, Sunday. I imagine my father being pretty happy that morning. He fed the birds and then took his tractor out to pick up the paper on the main road and plowed the snow off the lane as he went (two feet deep!) He was on his return trip when he must have misjudged where the road was, because the tractor went off the road and down the steep slope. My father was pinned under the tractor wheel and died. It was such a shock to lose him so suddenly. We were still reeling as the warm spring winds came and quickly melted the snow. A few days later my siblings and I were visiting with our cousins, telling stories in our shirtsleeves. But our father/uncle was gone forever.

      Perhaps it is strange, but I have beautiful memories of this March nineteen years ago.  The house filled with flowers and the smell made me hunger for loveliness. At the visitation, I heard story after story about my father from his patients. A major theme was the newly installed 15-minute hour glass.  Apparently my father's willingness to listen to patients was greatly appreciated, but the delay getting into the room to be listened to was not! As an endocrinologist, he took special care with the feet, a concern for diabetics. Perhaps I would never have known this about my father if he had grown old and retired.

     My father was fond of pointing out that life is unfair, then he went on to prove it. Certainly it was not fair that people lost their life as the storms roared through Kentucky last Friday. There is no rhyme or reason to who was taken and who was spared. All I can think is that it is beautiful that we have lives on this earth. We can not control the length of our lives, but we can appreciate that our life matters.

Speaking of Trees...

Hickory Ridge Oak-one of my favorite trees

...which I often am; I wanted to let you know about a wonderful book. It was introduced to me by a participant in my Experimenting with Watercolor and Pastel class at the Lexington Art Academy, which affirms once again the notion that teachers learn as much as their students in class.  Deborah brought in a book simply titled: Oak.  The subtitle is: One Tree, Three Years, Fifty Paintings. Artist Stephen Taylor found himself lost after losing both parents and an important love. He was not sure where to turn next in his life and work when some friends invited him to paint at their farm in Essex where he discovered his oak. As the subtitle suggests, Taylor spent three years studying and painting the tree in all kinds of weather, day and night (there are some wonderful night time paintings.) He found his way again simply by observing closely a single spot on earth.

        This rings true for me. Trees physically link heaven and earth with their tall stature. This is true in paintings as well as life. They also link us with eternity as they often live to be hundreds of years old. Stephen Taylor's tree, for example, "was already home to skylarks and starlings when Jane Austen was a baby and George III the ruler of the American colonies" (from the foreword by Alain de Botton.)  The chinquapin oak at Floracliff is thought to be over 400 years old. So in a time of rapid change and loss, trees can be of great comfort. They are naturally beautiful and provide shade and shelter as well as paper and wood.  I highly recommend this book:  Oak: One Tree, Three Years, Fifty Paintings, by Stephen Taylor, Princeton Architectural Press, New York, New York, 2012. Thanks, Deborah!

   p.s. There are two Experimenting with Watercolor & Pastel classes coming up at the Lexington Art Academy.  Please go to: www.lexingtonartacademy.com for more information and registration.

The Rest of the Story

Jour de Noel, Strasbourg

Last month, I posted the underpainting of my painting of my favorite tree in Strasbourg, France. (Please see, Underpinnings, January 24, 2012.) Now I have added the layers of pastel and more watercolor and more pastel. It was a bit of work to do justice to this beautiful tree. It is a sycamore or plane tree. They are a favorite tree used to line the streets in Europe, as they are here. But in Europe they have a method of pruning the trees, called pollarding, so that they have knobby and massive limbs with willowy shoots.

    I had not been in Europe in December since my first trip to Europe (34 years ago.) I was quite taken with the beautiful quality of the afternoon sky, which seemed to be both cool and warm at the same time. Although it rained almost every day we were in France, Christmas Day the sun shone with this lovely light. This light was also a challenge; it was diffuse, but illuminating.

    Are you interesting in trying out this combination of mediums? There are two opportunities coming up. I will be teaching Experimenting with Watercolor & Pastel at the Lexington Art Academy. The next class begins March 1st, on Thursdays form 7 - 9 pm, four sessions.  There is an afternoon session, beginning Tuesday, April 3rd, 1:30 - 3:30 pm.  Please check out all the courses available on: lexingtonartacademy.com.

The Sanctuary of Limits

At the recommendation of my doctor, I am spending time downstairs on the BodyTrac Glider. A small window provides the view. Outside are the River Birch, Contorted Filbert (Harry Lauder's Walking Stick), Euonymus and ivy. Several seasons of leaves had collected in the screen and more than a few seasons of life were deposited on the window. Spring is coming and I was moved to actually clean the window and clear the screen of the bounty of oak leaves. What a satisfying bit of action! I can feel and see Spring coming on as I row away.

       Simultaneously, at my church, we are in the process of planning a refurbishment of the Parish Hall. As we move from the dream phase to the reality of making everyone sort of happy, limits are superimposed on the project. I had a couple of ideas that I illustrated and presented to parishioners. Since there was something visible to react to, people did, including myself! Other design ideas were brought forth as well. All this made me think about the project with new possibilities, because of the limits that were constructed. Now, new possibilities are coming to mind. It is the limitations and the need to consider others' ideas that are making it so exciting.  I am dreaming of a sunny corner for coffee and greeting...

     This week, I attended an art event called Sanctuary at the Little Fine Arts Library and Learning Center, University of Kentucky. It was a collaboration between a visual artist and a vocal artist (who also happened to be a clothing artist.) The visual artist's approach to a work was to begin and see where the work was telling her to go, without judgment. She used all kinds of materials as well. The one I was most taken with was the walnut ink she made herself by collecting walnuts all over town. The possibilities seemed limitless. Afterward, Meg showed me her display of Kentucky artist books. She had some artist books out for a class as well and one in particular impressed her and she took me through it (that is how it felt.) It was a dizzying new world of possibilities.

     The truth is that the world is full of endless possibilities, good and bad. Fortunately, we are mortals and have natural limits. I believe this is a positive thing. As I approach Spring this year, I am going to take a fresh look at what my limited possibilities are and how I might use them. Some years ago, a woman made a statement that has stayed with me all this time. In fact, it is becoming truer and truer. She said, "I spent the first half of my life gathering things and I'm spending the second half trying to get rid of them." So gather the leaves and clean the windows! See what is there.

Underpinnings

Underpainting for Jour de Noel, Strasbourg 

I am preparing for another Experimenting with Watercolor & Pastel class as well as a Show and Tell gathering of Stoner Creek Arts. And there is a project I've had on my mind since our trip to France, where we spent Christmas. It rained almost every day we were in France, but on Christmas Day in the afternoon, the sun shone. It was the lemon-y cool winter sun of Northern Europe. Very beautiful. David and Mary and I were walking around Strasbourg, where we spent a week, and I wanted to return to my favorite tree in that city. By the time we reached Petite France, the sun was beginning its downward slide and the cool golden sky back lit the massive limbs. It was a sight! I knew I wanted to make a painting of this luminescent scene.

       That is what I am working on.  To start a painting using watercolor and pastel, I begin with an underpainting.  The underpainting provides a rich and deep base for the pastel.  I add layers to the watercolor, letting the layers dry in-between so I can see how much darker and richer I need to go. From experience, I know what I am going to want to riff off of the pastel. So the painting above is not even half-way finished.  My goal is to leave the painting open for maximum flexibility.  Yet, at every stage, I want the ultimate feeling of the scene to shine forth (here it is the illuminated sky with the back lit and utterly substantial tree.)

      Would you like to try this yourself? I will be teaching Experimenting with Watercolor & Pastel at the Lexington Art Academy. A 4-session class will be held on Thursdays, 7 - 9 pm from February 2 - February 23, 2012. For more information and registration, please go to: lexingtonartacademy.com.
I will post an update of the painting when it is complete.