Battle of Three

In honor of the final leg of the Triple Crown, I'm posting my latest horse racing picture, named "Battle of Three." The reference photo was taken at Saratoga but I've taken some liberties with it.

Start your engines

Here it is, the show season just around the corner--less than two weeks, actually--and I'm cranking out the paintings. The trouble is that I've got a lot of them going at once. The good thing about that is you get several finished with days of each other and it gives you a good sense of accomplishment. Here's my latest--"Apples and Cherries."

The first show is West Hartford and the amazing thing about that show is the locals show up no matter what the weather. One year it poured and the grassy grounds were so saturated that people were getting their shoes sucked off as they walked by. The grounds people then put down planks of plywood so people could walk up and down the aisles.

Missing it when it's gone

While I was vacationing in sunny Florida, I was hit with a viral infection whose main symptom was laryngitis. I couldn't talk! I guess you never appreciate something until it's gone for a while. Just think of all the things you can't do if you don't have a voice--from returning phone calls to asking directions in a noisy casino. Luckily I was with family who could answer the phone and order for me in restaurants.

The creative muse is a fleeting thing. We artists sometimes suffer from artists' block. Right now I've got the ideas for 23 paintings lined up. I am grateful that I have the creative muse right now, because I will miss it when it's gone.

Fallow Fields

"Fallow Fields" is a painting that I recently completed and immediately entered it into the Granby Land Trust's Juried Art Show. It was my great pleasure to receive the Granby Community Fund Award, one of the top awards of the show, for it. It depicts part of the Granby Land Trust in North Granby. I am told that the tree is referred to locally as "Mary's Tree." In the distance one can see Mount Tom on the left and the last rays of the day catch the city of Springfield on the right.

Happy New Year

My New Years resolution: post pictures of my paintings in progress more frequently. It seems that is what people like to see and I've been very very lax about this. After the outdoor show season ended, I kind of dropped off the blog world--but now I'm back. I promise.

I will also try to set up a RSS feed for this blog. Happy New Year to all!

Translations

As an oil painter for over 10 years, I have come to the conclusion that the novices on the show circuit do not realize that customers actually speak a different language. In the beginning, this language barrier caused me no end of confusion until I learned to translate correctly. With that in mind, I have prepared a brief listing of the most popular customer phrases with their correct translation. (Thanks to fellow painter Virginia Peake for her contributions.)

Your work is lovely.
Translation: I’ve finished looking. I’m leaving now.

I’ll be back.
Translation: Good-bye. Have a nice life.

I want to talk this over with my husband / wife.
Translation: See above.

These colors don’t match my decor.
Translation: These prices don’t match my wallet.

I love your frames / roof with skylight / table cloths.
Translation: Don’t get up--I’m a fellow artist.

Is that the best you can do?
Translation: Can I talk you into a pay cut?

Hrrrmmmfff. (spoken by man with arms folded across chest standing outside booth in response to wife’s question--”what do you think, dear?”)
Translation: No sale

Is this a watercolor? (spoken while pointing to an oil)
or
Is this an oil? (spoken while pointing to a watercolor.)
Translation: I only came for the crafts.

So, how long did it take you to paint this?
Translation: What are you getting, $300 an hour?

Where’s the crochet lady who was in this spot last year?
Translation: Have they replaced the best thing in the show with you????

Oh dear, everybody’s an art critic.
Translation: My dog just wizzed on your display.

It's always the weather

Old Lyme was quite an adventure. I was about to head down to set up Friday evening when it started to drizzle a bit. I checked the weather forecast and it said some raining clearing out about midnight. I much prefer to set up the tent and display on Friday night for a weekend show if I can. It's less exhausting than setting up everything early Saturday morning and then start the show.

Anyway, I made the (fateful) decision to go down and set up. There were a few tents already set up and I quickly set mine up with the display panels (not the paintings) and headed home. Old Lyme is a little over a half hour from my home. The sky was already starting to clear up a little.

When I got home, I checked the weather radar and lo and behold a line of vicious thunderstorms was in New York and Pennsylvania and heading this way. They hit about 1 am, and slammed into Old Lyme about a half hour later. I was up all night watching the radar and wondering what was happening to my tent. I went down there the next am, full of trepidation. When I got there, there were dozens of artists setting up but I COULDN'T SEE MY TENT! Even though I had staked it down, it had blown over and all the panels were in a jumble in the parking lot. Believe it or not, the only broken things were two L-stiffeners from my display, which were supposed to be 90 degrees and were bent to 120 degrees. (Thank you, ProPanels!) I was setup and running by the opening of the show. A miracle! The locals said that the wind gusts that had come through that evening were around 40 mph. A few other tents had blown over or disintegrated.

Lesson to be learned: NEVER leave your work in your tent if there is even the slightest chance of thunderstorms. This is the first time in 16 years of doing shows that my tent went over, and I was lucky--nothing destroyed, no work inside. It's not thieves and vandals that you have to watch out for, it's Mother Nature.