Poppies

During the First World War the muddy battle fields of Europe changed, seemingly overnight, to fields of poppies once the fighting had ceased. Blood red "Papaver rhoeas" thrived in the disturbed soil and became a symbol of lives lost and now of remembrance.


I wear my little plastic poppy with sadness for wars past and present and with hope for a more peaceful future.

(These photos were taken by someone in the Google universe. Thanks.)

Green Leaves on Silver Leaf

The mural continues. I got a bit bogged down in the many many leaves on the tree and the many many hours it took to paint them. But I have turned the corner and soon will get to the really fun part - painting the berry bushes and finally painting the birds. The weather has made it harder to work too. It is so dark these days. But I turn on all the lights, fire up the heater and turn on my audio book (currently Sarah Vowell). It becomes so cosy in the studio that I can work into the darkness of evening, with the cats curled up beside me. At lease until the kids need dinner. Poor things. They are used to eating at 9pm lately.

These segments are about four feet across and if you click on them you'll see them a little bigger.


Oregon grape and Salal wil grow around the these arbutus trees.

Mushrooms!

I almost drove off the road yesterday when I saw these mushrooms.


They are growing in the middle of the city under an evergreen tree. So unexpected. Why aren't there crowds visiting them?


I have only ever seen this kind of mushroom in children's book illustrations. Oh Richard Scarry how I miss you. (I think these are Amanita muscaria, which are either "deadly poisonous" or halucinegenic. Interesting cafe Mr Scarry.)

Mouse Study

I'm still working on my big arbutus mural but took a break to paint this little mouse as a study for an upcoming painting. How strange to work on something measuring twelve feet across and something measuring 5 inches across on the same day.

Autumn Reds

Looking like the inside of a zombie's throat, this is a seed pod of Paeonia obovata, shiny from the Vancouver rain in my parent's garden where we visited yesterday. Earlier today I posted that it was stinking Iris but my Mum has set me right. Thanks Mum! Your garden is full of wonderful things.


My mum has planted Doll's Eyes in her woodland garden. I love them.


Though we don't have many red autumn leaves here on the west coast, there is plenty of scarlet and crimson in the garden.

Trick or Treat

I took a break from painting arbutus trees this morning to walk up to the store and buy cat food. Such is my social life at the moment. But the leaves at my feet were shining in the pale sunlight and the world was golden.


I was so fascinated with these catkins and the wheel chair ramp dots that I didn't look up to see what kind of tree I was under. Autumn is full of colorful treats like this. I'm so glad I got out of the house.


Not autumn leaves but arbutus bark photographed in the middle of summer. Trick or treat


I guess it's time to get back to the studio.

230 Silver Squares

After sticking more than 200 five inch squares of aluminum leaf around the black silhouettes, I polish the leaf with a soft cloth and then start painting the color. The carpet is covered in small bits of aluminum.




Arbutus bark gives me such wonderful colors to work with. The purplish grey outer bark, cinnamon middle bark and creamy pale pistachio inner skin. I also plan to use some Salal or Oregon grape with their bright blue berries. The dark weather has me craving color.

A New Mural

These beautiful and giant birch panels will become a mural of arbutus trees with aluminum leaf sky. It seems a shame to cover the lovely grain of real trees with artificial painted trees.
My studio is dwarfed and looks a little funny.


The richly colored primer is jolly though.


But with black tree sillouettes it turns into a spooky Hallow'een image. Tomorrow I'll glue the aluminum leaf on and it will all take on a different feeling yet again.

New York and Salem

I took a break from blogging, painting and gardening last week to visit New York City with my daughter.
What a perfect and amazing adventure we had.


We also spent some time exploring beautiful Salem Mass. The historic buildings and walls there are fantastic.


And now, with John Singleton Copely's inspiration from this painting at the Metropolitan Museum, I shall get back to work in rainy, but warm Seattle.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous

"All the diamonds in the world that mean anything to me are conjured up in wind and sunshine sparkling on sea" -Bruce Cockburn


and on a stream...


and even on tiny slug eggs...


which remind me of...


these giant fishing buoys in a funny 'garden' near my house. (Nice lawn mower!)

Another Zinnia Study

I'll hang this study in my small show at Macrina Bakery in Sodo, Seattle tomorrow. There won't be an opening party but drop by any time in October to see some paintings and buy some delicious bread. The bakery is just south of the stadiums on First Avenue.

This little study is 5"x7" and is $150.

More Opal and More Pumpkins

Two unrelated photos. Umm. They both show round furry things.

Opal Ears and Pumpkin Vines

Small Studies

Happiness is having painting panels primed and sanded and ready to use. These small ones will be fun for quick flower studies like these zinnias.

Abundance

Part of a commission to paint the four seasons, this painting represents summer. The little chickadee is surrounded, and maybe a bit overwhelmed, by the abundance around her. It is a joyful image but complicated by the problem of choosing from all life's riches. There are also some moody storm clouds approaching adding that feeling of urgency that I can't escape when faced with summer's perfection.

The painting measures 9"x 12" and is oil on panel. If you click on it you can see it closer to its real size.

You can see the winter part of this series here.

SAGBUTT at the Arboretum

A couple of images from Sunday's meeting of garden bloggers at the University of Washington Arboretum. The orange seeds belong to an Iris foetidissima and the pretty pink berries are from a Mountain Ash.

Ahead of My Time

While going through my high school sketch books I found this drawing of my sister's stuffed animal. I think we used to call him Ferdinand. My art teacher didn't like the subject matter and gave me a low mark. Mr Murphy this may have been the only time you were wrong.


Thirty years later I can point to Mark Ryden as one of my most inspiring influences.

My Art Teacher

The recent figure and cat studies are good. Try some observed studies in colour. 8/10


Your corn drawing is the most thorough piece of work. Try to take on that kind of challenge more often. Sketchbook mark 17/20


Drawing from observation. You need to challenge your abilities regularly Try not to neglect this aspect of your work. 8/10

These are my sketchbooks from high school with wise comments and marks by my art teacher, John Murphy. Thank you John for everything. We will all miss you.

You can read about John here.

Fog - a little creepy

Isn't this Thomas Kinkade style image funny? The cottage is the public bathroom in Magnolia Park where I like to visit the Arbutus trees.


This is more of a Franz Kline image.

Fog

Laughing Not Crying

My painting of summer's abundance is such a pleasure to work on. I am extending summer by bringing these luscious sunflowers into the studio. The little chickadee is wondering how to choose from all the glories of the season but my first attempt at painting her was less than successful. Ha ha ha. Poor thing. I'll post her less funny version when the painting is finished.

September Garden

Goodbye summer

Weird and Wonderful

Some people call them Arbutus. Here in Seattle we call them Madronas. Whatever you call them they are extraordinary trees.


They are the only broad leafed evergreen trees native to this area.


I took these pictures in a park in Magnolia to help with a new painting. (By the way. The story goes that the Magnolia neighborhood of Seattle was named after these wonderful trees but the namer got the name wrong. There is another neighborhood called Madrona, where, as far as I know, there aren't many of these trees.)

Artists and Friends

Saturday was such a pretty day. The late summer sun was a little bit low on the horizon making dappled shadows everywhere. We were eleven artists showing our work in my studio and garden and in my neighbor Jennifer's studio and garden. Many wonderful friends dropped by to enjoy blackberry, rosemary lemonade, home made cookies and art. Thanks to everyone who brought food and wine. Thanks to my amazing artist friends for sharing their time and work. It was such a lovely day.


Susan displayed her paintings on the patio.


The nicest and most talented artists in the world!

My friend Bobby took some great pictures and posted them on her blog. Make sure you scroll around and see her other great work here.

Jennifer has also posted her impressions of the day here.

Today!

Open Studio on Saturday

I am opening my studio doors on Saturday and sharing the space with ten friends and their art. My neighbor, Jennifer, is also opening her studio. We are having an art festival in the back alley! Drop by 1618 - 10 Avenue West in Seattle between 2 and 6 pm. See you there!

August Breaks My Heart

My cat, Huckleberry, sleeps beside me in my studio as ripe blackberries scent the warm sunshine and hummingbirds squeak outside my open door. There is so much bounty and beauty in August - warmth, food, color, parties, children home from school. But August also signals the end of all these things. Soon it will be fall and I will hunker down once more indoors in the quiet of my home. Maybe it is my Scottish roots that detect grief in the happiest of seasons. Maybe growing up in Maritime Canada taught me that winter is never far away.

This painting embraces August's ambivalence and shows a wistfulness for a simpler season - maybe for spring when joy is unbounded and mortality doesn't enter our thoughts.





This painting measures 8"x10" and is oil on panel.

Dyeing to Knit

To start the knitting season some friends and I got together to dye wool.


Mahonia (Oregon grape) bark.


The bark boils on the stove. We also tried onion skin, blueberries, carrot leaves, blackberries, red cabbage and beets.


Mahonia dyed wool dries in the late summer sun.




Barbie with her wonderful colors.


Sandra's bright yellow comes from carrot leaves.

Colour from the Garden

My garden is full of colour and to capture this I usually like to make paintings of the plants and flowers. But another way to preserve the colours of summer is to use plants as dyes for wool. Here are some I have been playing with. Mostly blackberry and Oregon Grape bark.


A pot full of red zinnia petals produced a disappointing pale yellow dye but it looked pretty while I cooked it.