Just finished this one. Hubby and I took a drive to Boothbay yesterday afternoon. It was a spectacular spring day, and I took hundreds of pictures. I love to paint roads, with the dappled light and shadow effects. Be forewarned. This is just the first of my Boothbay Road paintings. There will be more.
Autumn Morning on the Hill 11 x 14, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Another one I painted sometime in the last couple of months. Early morning in October on the backside of Sand Hill with the sun barely risen over the Kennebec. I love Sand Hill, with its old houses and the way the morning light streams across the river to light their faces.
Newsflash: I just sold two paintings to a lovely gentleman from the greater Washington, DC area. What a nice boost to my morale, after trying to sell prints on eBay and basically giving them away. He saw my prints and wrote to ask if I would sell any of my originals. Of course, I said yes. But for me, it's a little like giving away your children. I quickly become attached to my paintings and hate to part with them. On the other hand, a) money is nice, b) I want to share them with the world, and c) I've run out of wall space to hang them at home.
Went to A.C. Moore this morning and bought a couple of small gallery-wrap canvases. I haven't worked with them before, mostly because they're so expensive, but our local A.C. Moore store, which just opened a couple of months ago, keeps giving me these 50% off coupons. They're good for a particular day only, which gets me off my butt and into the store every Saturday. I painted the edges of my most recent painting, Across the Kennebec, and I really liked the result, so I think working with the broad edges of the gallery wraps will be fun.
Across the Kennebec 22 x 28, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Finally, FINALLY, this is done. It's been through so many incarnations that I've lost track. I've added houses, deleted houses, added trees, deleted trees, painted the road, re-painted the road, until I can't possibly add another drop of paint. I think I'm happy with it. It'll still have to sit for a day or two before I'll declare it utterly and completely done, but for now, it's pretty much done.
I don't have a new painting to show today; I'm diligently working on a large canvas, but it'll be a few days before it's done. So I decided to post this little one that I did last fall, a view of a section of old Route 27 from new Route 27. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: can you tell that green is my favorite color?
December Dusk, Highway to Lewiston 11 x 14, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Another one I painted a month or so ago. I took the photo back in December as I was traveling south on the Maine Turnpike, somewhere north of Lewiston. It was a frigid day, one of the coldest of the winter, and the sun was just setting. I love highway paintings!
February, Lincoln Street, Lewiston 2008, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Another one I did about a month ago. These houses, sitting shoulder to shoulder, intrigued me. I decided that what I liked best about them was the roof peaks, so that's what I painted. This is an inner-city neighborhood in Lewiston, Maine. Love those old houses!
Last post today, I promise! I happened to glance up and saw this framed on the wall above my computer monitor, and realized I just had to post it to my blog. This was a fun painting I did, experimenting with oil pastels, and it always makes me smile because this is Nevins, my grand-kitty, darling of my life. I've known her (yes, Nevins is a she) since she was small enough to fit into the palm of my hand. I don't see her nearly as often as I'd like, since she lives in Portland with her mommy (my daughter, Jen), but visiting her is always the highlight of any day. Nev is a pure hellion, but sweet as sugar all the same. I just had to immortalize her in paint!
Morning Light, UMA 16 x 20, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Good Lord, you're thinking, three posts in one day? I know, I know. I get over-enthusiastic. But I haven't painted anything new since I finished my Munjoy Hill painting on Friday, and I'm getting antsy. Since I don't have time today to paint (at least, not until tonight), I thought I'd look through some of my other work and see what I might want to post. I did this painting back in October (2007), and in my eyes it remains one of my best (and favorite) paintings. Deceptively simple, just blocks of color, but those blocks are so effective. This is the view I see as I drive onto campus on summer mornings. Lush and green and lovely. Hope you enjoy!
Sunday Morning, Central Street 16 x 20, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Another one I painted a few weeks ago. A crisp autumn morning in Randolph, Maine. I grew up in this neighborhood. My aunt and uncle lived on Pleasant Street, which is the left turn directly after the first house. My good friend Jean lived up the hill we're looking down. And if you took a left turn onto Third Street at the top of the next hill (by the trees wearing their fall colors), the house where I lived for several years would be the fourth one down on the left. Lots of memories here!
Here's my latest effort. This is Portland's Munjoy Hill, based on a photo I took about 2:30 in the afternoon this past Tuesday from the waterfront parking lot across from the Forest Avenue Hannaford store. I love these old houses. Love the sight of them crowded together, a multitude of lines and angles, light and shadows, value and color contrasts, climbing the hill toward the eastern sky. On this particular day, the entire hillside was awash in warm afternoon light.
All told, this took me probably about ten hours to complete.
Afternoon, Hallowell 11 x 14, acrylic on canvas SOLD
Another one I did a month or two ago. I was out driving one winter afternoon and saw the way the afternoon light was pouring over these buildings, and I couldn't help myself. I had to stop and take a photo. In spite of the fact that I've had more than enough of winter, this is still one of my favorites.
Sunday Morning, Lincoln Avenue 16 x 20, acrylic on canvas SOLD
This is one I painted a few weeks ago, based on a photo I took one Sunday morning last summer while cruising the streets, seeking that incredible morning light. Can you tell that green is my favorite color?
I took a drive yesterday to the coast to get photos. It was a mostly gray day, although I saw occasional and brief glimpses of weak sun. This is Port Clyde village, located at the tip of a peninsula in midcoast Maine. When you reach Port Clyde, you can't go any farther unless you get into a boat. I prefer sunny days, with lots of light and shadow and value contrasts. But I had to do the best I could with what I could get. Hope you enjoy!
ADDENDUM: Funny story about this one. Yesterday afternoon, I was visiting Suzanne Harden's site (she's one of my favorite artists, see the link at right) and pulled up one of her paintings I've always loved. And discovered...I'd painted the exact same location as she had. When I painted this, I had no idea it was the same place. She'd painted it on a sunny day, while I painted it on a cloudy day with some fog. And our styles are very different (hers is amazing, mine is...well, mine). I never would have realized it was the same spot except for that leaning telephone pole. It caught my eye when I looked at her painting (which I'd seen a hundred times before), and I started looking at the buildings, and the trees, and the road, and realized that yes, it really was the same location. Except that I'd called it Port Clyde, and she called it Tenants Harbor. The two are right near each other on the same road, but I don't know where one ends and the other begins. I've only been down to the end of that particular peninsula twice in my life, since I live inland, so the territory isn't familiar to me. So she's probably right. It probably is Tenants Harbor. But isn't it funny that, without even knowing it, I'd paint the same scene as an artist I admire?
Not a serious painting. I did this for fun tonight after work. Another experiment. I liked the way the red underpainting came out in the Tobey Street painting, so I decided to use it again with this one. I took this photo while waiting for a red light one afternoon back in November, when the skies were wild and just starting to clear after a storm. I've been wanting to paint it ever since. I took artistic license with the colors; the day was dramatic, but the colors ran more to gunmetal gray and deep purples than the reds and lively purples you see here. I livened it up a great deal. I particularly like the way the sky turned out, and the city of Portland on the other side of the water. I'd like someday to paint a panoramic view of the Portland skyline from Baxter Boulevard.
This was an experiment, a whole different style for me, starting with a red underpainting and then covering it with layer after layer of exaggerated color. I'm pleased with the results; I think the bright colors give it a dynamic, exciting feel.
I based this painting on a photo I took from my front steps one morning several years ago, just as the sun was coming up. We recently moved to a new house, in a neighborhood of 1960's and 1970's single-story ranches. I miss the old neighborhood, with its big old houses clustered so close together. Aesthetics aside (I find the newer houses bland and boring compared to the old relics), where I live now, there's a whole different dynamic. In-town, there was a warm feeling of family. Everyone knew everyone. Our kids grew up together, running in and out of each other's houses at all hours. When I looked out my kitchen window and into Dave and Barb's, I always got the feeling that no matter what happened, somebody would have my back. We took care of each other.
There's a sense of isolation where I live now. Spaces between neighbors are wide. We've been here for two years and still haven't met the people across the street. Many of the neighbors are elderly, and it feels as though I've moved into God's waiting room. I miss the old street, where the kids would play all day and half the night, and everybody knew everybody else's dog, cat, and mother-in-law. We carted each other's kids around, babysat each other's pets, held keys to each other's houses, and kept phone lists of each other's relatives to contact in case of emergency. We lived on a semi-dead-end street, so we knew which cars belonged on the street, which belonged to visitors, and which were from "away." My new house is located a tenth of a mile from a Barnes & Noble superstore, and a half-mile from Wal-Mart, Home Depot, and Circuit City. As a result, 8,600 cars pass by each day. Eighty. Six. Hundred. Dozens of strangers walk by daily on their way to the shopping center. And the anonymity of it all bothers me. All I did was move across town, yet it's like being on another planet. Yes, the deer play in our backyard; but out front, the world races by at 20 mph over the posted speed limit.
This painting is my nostalgic attempt to reclaim some of the family feeling I left behind when we moved from Prospect Street.
Three Houses, Auburn. 2008, 11 x 14, acrylic NOT FOR SALE.
This is my first post. I've been a weekend artist for years, but it wasn't until about six months ago that I started painting seriously. Taking inspiration from the daily painters site, I decided to start my own art blog, in which I'll post the (almost) daily paintings I've been doing. I call the blog Painting the Light because that's what I do; it's the contrast of light and shadow that intrigues me most as an artist. Following in the tradition of artists like Edward Hopper and Fairfield Porter, I'm humbly attempting to say something about time and place through my depictions of common, everyday scenes: primarily urban streetscapes and rural landscapes. My favorite subject is buildings, especially the old New England houses that have been a part of my personal landscape for my entire life. I work almost exclusively in acrylics, although I've dabbled in watercolor and am trying to learn pastels. With this blog, I intend to chronicle my journey of learning and growth as an artist.