Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Well, this painting was that beginning for me. This was the second painting I ever attempted; that was way back in February of 2007. After my first painting, "Summer Trees," I decided to give the same image another go. I remember thinking, "Now, I've already done this, so I'm ready to put my own spin on it. Hmmm... what exactly is my spin?" As I wondered what kind of painter I'd become, I thought maybe I'd be an impressionist. I'd always loved Monet's work, so I'd kind of blur the lines. Then I thought about Van Gogh; I'd imitate him and let my strokes tell the story. Then... I put thick orange and red blobs on top of brown bases, surrounded them with gold and green flame-like vertical strokes and realized that I was just plain Helen doing my best to make colors and shapes appear to be something recognizable.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Maybe that's why I'm drawn to paintings of streams, rivers, roads, paths, and trails. I think that the real story is just out of sight.
This painting draws me in both through its subject and through its texture. I like to touch this one - run my fingertips across it. I used more paint than I usually do, and I like the actual feel of the rocks, the water, and the trees. I even like the swirls in the brush strokes of the sky.
Original Oil Painting on 11" x 14" Wrapped Canvas
Sunday, September 19, 2010
This painting was including in an Etsy treasury (collection of art and vintage items) filled with warm, rich colors called Art That Will Make You Smile.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
What makes autumn so special?
Visit In the Moment, a place where artists and poets are encouraged to submit their works based on a certain word each month. The word was "golden." I thought of golden years, golden harvests, golden moments, golden-haired toddlers, golden sunsets, golden rings...
The example photograph was a gorgeous sunflower from summer... I think each season (even autumn) has its golden moments.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I Am from Home
I am from a red-clay road rolling with dust after each passing car
from a long bed of irises - purple, white, yellow, and maroon
from two cars out front one with 4 doors, one with a bed, two humps, and a tailgate
from a front porch with a dachshund named Noodles lying on the step, a screen door that slams, and a panoramic view of the
I am from tassel-topped corn stalks, thorny blackberry vines, and staked tomato plants bringing the flavors of summer
from a formica kitchen table surrounded by six chairs and a stool
from little glass Pepsi bottles, black angus beef, and homemade ice cream hand-cranked by strong brothers
from sit-down dinners, lingering while the food settles, and sisters washing dishes by hand.
I am from Curtis Ray - “Handy as a pocket on a shirt”
from Gladys Adelle -“Busy hands are happy hands”
from trotline catfish dangling off Grandpa’s stringer
from quilts and afghans labors of love from Grandma’s worn hands.
I am from Ben Franklin’s, Piggly Wiggly, and a fifteen-cent Tastee Freeze cone with a curlicue on top
from a picture window, an attic fan, an antenna on the roof for a black-and-white television
from football games on Friday nights, cartoons on Saturday mornings, and church twice on Sundays
from pot luck suppers, “Count Your Many Blessings,” pass the offering plate, in Jesus’ name, Amen.
I am from a place that is real
from a time that has past
from bonds that endure
I am from home.