We are having a delicious, drizzly February day here, and the starlings outside are making quite a racket. My wind chimes are going a little crazy. I’m just enjoying it all, taking care of family life, and baking ginger cookies (because that’s what I do when it drizzles outside!) Also, sharing the latest “Winter” piece, above. I feel like I’ve finally struck a balance between complexity and simplicity in these latest pieces. I am enjoying letting the wax be what it is, not fighting or trying to overly control it. For instance, when I first started adding the tiny white dot areas, it frustrated me to no end that I couldn’t get them all to look uniform. Some of them are big, some small, some stick up and others are flat. And it’s all dependent on too many factors- like if my pallet is heating up or not (it’s on a thermostat, so there are slight variations in temperature as it cycles on and off), or how long I hold the brush on the pallet to warm it up again, or how many dots I try to make before returning to my pallet (which, of course, has everything to do with my mood and patience that day). Etc, etc. But then I just gave up. It is what it is. And I fell in love with the variation. Now, I just let it be, and I think it is one of my favorite things about these little paintings. Sometimes, acceptance can truly transport us to new places!
Some new work coming out of my studio lately. I’ve started a new series- a variation on the “white noise” series. I’m calling this one “Winter”. Most days, I take a walk with my dog in the fields near my house. We live about a five minute walk to the bluffs that line the coast here in Half Moon Bay, and we are lucky enough to have fields along the bluffs that are open to the public. Every season has it’s own way of defining the landscape, and here in coastal California, we don’t get snow. We don’t get ice. We get wind. In late fall, the wind becomes fierce, and pummels the tall, dead, silvery grasses, flattening them to the ground. The only things left standing are the sturdy remains of flowering weeds and herbs, sometimes with seed pods left intact. It makes a striking landscape- the black, barren remnants of last year’s plants stand like black calligraphic marks against the pale, flat grasses.
So, I’ve been inspired to try to communicate some of this in these new paintings. These two are from drawings of seed pods that I found in my yard, and they look a bit like seaweed to me. I’ll post more of this work in the next few days, so be sure to check back.