It has been exciting to be working in pastel again. Such delicacy and fresh unfading color.
One of the qualities I appreciate about pastel is that the color never fades or yellows with age. These images came from trips into the country this fall.
Just Before Winter by Judith Reidy Pastel Pastel 17 x 11 unframed 22 x 16 framed
Fall Morning by Judith Reidy Pastel 17 x 11 unframed 22 x 16 framed
I have been rising early and starting to paint around 3:30- 4 AM every morning, before everyone else is up and the phone is ringing. I can say I have been painting 3+ hours. I then stop for breakfast and rest my hand and arm, (working large in pastel can be very physical). I enjoy conversation, do a few household chores, brew a good cup of freshly ground coffee, and return to my painting. By 11 am, I have been painting about 7 hours. I am ready for a walk and lunch. It is a wonderful feeling, to know that I can paint more or do whatever else needs to be done or I wish to do, knowing that I have a good day of painting in already. I seem to enjoy the rest of the day more.
I have been listening to Entitled Opinions and the literature under discussion while I paint. I look forward to my conversations with many of you either on Facebook or in person peppering the balance of the day.
Valley Mist These are a few of samples of what I have being creating in the cave. Enjoy! See you at the Westside Artwalk, April 23 and 24 at ORO di Oliva Wauwatosa, WI
I have been quite amazed at how fun un-distracted painting can be. I like to close my eyes and think of the first sensation that comes to my mind's eye. It is light, pure light. It glows and burns away the dross of life. This morning I had another reminder of new life when I stepped outside. In our part of the world, a robin's breast is the first sign of spring.There the Robin was.
Nigeria Alerts Me
But I have been thinking about Nigeria...the ongoing genocide. What do Nigerian mothers wake up to each day? Is there a sense of gloom that hangs over them, as they wonder if they will be the next target? Because of that, I am thinking about figures again in my landscapes.Figures as living souls, how do they rest in a world shaped by dichotomies?
These three paintings kept me dreaming during my weekend fever with the flu. I am happy to make them into a reality.
Ok, I have a joke.
An artist asked the gallery owner if there had been any interest in his paintings on display at that time.
"I have good news and bad news," the owner replied. "The good news is that a gentleman inquired about your work and wondered if it would appreciate in value after your death. When I told him it would, he bought all 15 of your paintings."
"That's wonderful," the artist exclaimed. "What's the bad news?"
"The guy was your doctor..."
I began in the previous post...."As I have explored the effects of light burning away the mists, I have considered what it is in the imagery that has fascinated me..."
but that was not it.
Hearingthose rattling cages, I gather my recent work in my “From dust to Dust” series has created quite a stirring reaction from many of you, .Good!
I have been stirred up and the work is a bi-product….but the motivation behind the work may not be what you may think.I am passionate about the stunning reality of the transformations and troubles of the unsettled dust of the past several months because…
“She held out her arms and pulled me toward her…. “
In mid- December a woman arrived to be a guest in my home for the holidays.She is an unbelievable delight..always an encouragement.For one she has always been the one who said I could do anything.She was my first art patron.Everyone has a mother, even artists.
At the time of her recent arrival, she seemed more unsteady on her feet than at her last visit.As the month past, her ability to walk declined rapidly, until now her walker is her constant companion.
Her falls began daily as she would attempt to rise or sit or turn, until I stood guard spotting for her at each step.When she collapsed in my arms, I then understood I could not support her with my strength nor was I capable of being her main and only guard.
I saw time and strength slip through our fingers.
It is out of this context and the ensuing struggle that my new series “From Dust to Dust” took shape.As I wrapped my arms around her frail body and bathed her back while she clawed herself through the day in and out of her bed or chair, I saw time and strength slip through our fingers.
I ask why.I hear reasons, but they are not fitting into our Madison Avenue view of life.They are not tidy.My religious conviction prepared me, but only the reality of being with her gave me understanding.
Atnight, I tucked her into her covers, she held out her arms and pulled me toward her to gently kiss me with her quivering lips, holding me so tightly for ever so long … then whispering, “Thank you, Judy;… I love you.”
Yes from dust we came yet, most assuredly to dust we will return.While “From Dust” may declare the glory of our bodies, “Fallen Again,” returns us to the troubles of living in a world gone awry.
My mother had to move to a place where she could be assisted with every task and where staff were prepared to carry her.
