Painting Lesson

In a month or so I'll be teaching a pastel class for the Grand Island Sketch Club. I'm really honored to be asked to share with them because they're a group of dedicated and very talented artists. It occured to me that maybe you'd like in on the lesson.

This first shot shows how I arrange my pastel sticks. I made the trays out of fome-core board. The sticks are arranged by color family, and value.


The first step is to sketch out the "chunks", the big areas of value. I lay in a thin layer of pastel in a very dark value which represents the darkest part of the painting, and then rub in some red tones for the foreground. When that is done, I dip an old brush into rubbing alcohol and wash the pastel into the paper. (By the way, I'm using Art Spectrum sanded paper.) This allows the first layer to be very rich yet thin. Because it's melted into the surface I can go over the first layers with lots of lighter colors.

Now I work on the local, or "real" color. I'm slowly adding colors to suggest leaves and grass.

This close up shows how loose my strokes are. Lots of original layers show through. I'm not really worried about how accurate the colors of the grassy area are, or even whether it's actually grass. My interest lies in the energy I get from the scene. By letting some of the drips and dribbles of the alcohol wash show through, the area becomes really exciting.

This 9 x 12 piece is nearly done. There are some issues with the sky I need to resolve, and I'm not sure about that diagonal line through the foreground, but it's time for a break. I'll put it away for a couple of days and see what comes to mind with a fresh eye.

If you're interested in taking the October 13th class, let me know and I'll get you the details.

Weekend Fun

You'd think by my email that the only things going on this weekend were debt relief, consolidating my bills, or enhancing my husband's pe...uh...personality.



Wrong! It's not too late to check out Jerome Dubas' amazing ceramics at Graham Gallery. The reception was held over the weekend, but his work will be featured for another couple of weeks.


Famfest in Aurora was held over the weekend as well. A family oriented event, it's a great time to see who's creating what in the fly-over states. Truly amazing. Artist's of all kinds get together and show off their wares. I had the real pleasure of hearing an emerging singer-songwriter, Leesha Harvey. She's got a beautiful voice, and the song writing skills to match. Don't fret if you weren't there on the square listening, she'll be at Mick's Music Bar in Omaha in October. She's worth the trip.


The crowd was appreciative, and that's important for us artist's. It's tough, shlepping our display panels, chairs, families and art to various courthouse lawns, parking lots and parks. I don't do the festival circuit much, so Famfest is a delight. And thank you to Gloria for valuing my work. I'm pleased you purchased a painting you're happy with.


Oddly, there were no solo trombonist's featured at this event. (Brian, this one's for you!)


Next time you decide to settle for cleaning out your spam filter, go find something else to do. Your pe...uh...personality is just fine.

Sneak Peak

With Labor Day comes the last of the season's art festivals, for me at least. I'm a lightweight when it comes to outdoor events. One I'm pleased to attend as a participating artist is the FamFest in Aurora, Nebraska. This is a great event full of music, good food and excellent art.

I'll be showing a few new pieces from my plein aire painting trips.

I'll give you a sneak peak to temp you into coming to Aurora (as if coming to this great little community weren't enough!)

Painted early in the morning, the coneflowers this year were gorgeous.

I planted sunflowers this year, for no reason other than I love them. These mammoth variety are over 15 feet tall. The heads are at least a foot wide, plenty big enough to feed the finches.

These plein aire pieces are 5 x 7 inches and beautifully framed. They're available for $200 each. To see them in person, and to see other new paintings, stop by my booth in the artist's tent at Famfest in Aurora and introduce yourself.

The Measure of Time

It's that time of year. The point in my summer when I realize the earth has shifted without my noticing.
The sun set a good 30 minutes earlier last night than it did the night before. Suddenly cicadas are fillling the air with a tremendous rhythmic zz-zz-zz-zz that is supposed to mean frost in 6 weeks. Six weeks! School busses are rumbling down the streets, brakes squealing as they pull up to load children born just yesterday for their first days of school. The sky is even a different color, just a bit bluer than before. The coneflowers are fading from their rich lavendar to a dull grey. Sunflowers that just yesterday were hilariously yellow are now bent under their heavy brown load.
My friend is writing a book. Her goal is a chapter a month. Suddenly she realized, like I had, the changing of the season. Months had gone by - what month was it? She couldnt say, but she knew she had 6 chapters written.
Another friend passed away recently. She'd lived 78 years. I'm certain that she saw her life as ridiculously short, although the last days were probably endless. At her funeral her life was recounted in laughter and tears, lessons learned and shared rather than units of time.
I'm setting a goal for myself. I'll share it with you when the time is right. Four days ago I was behind, yesterday I'm ahead enough to feel comfortable.
How do we measure time? It's a season, it's a goal, it's the number of ticks my clock makes in the earth's ciruit around the sun. When the kids were home it was measured in homework and grades and days left before leaving the nest.
Now it's measured in sudden moves of the earth. In chapters written, lives ended and paint tubes squeezed dry.
How do you measure time?