"Beth's Rose Arbor" (oil on linen; 11" x 14") sold

sold

Reference photo

Beth is a dear friend of mine who went to graduate school together in Minnesota.  She, a fellow historian, was indeed my first American friend, who helped me acculturate to the new country.  Several years later, Beth, a person with a heart of gold, took time and trouble to edit my 400-page-long PhD dissertation!  Alas, we haven't seen each other for almost 20 years.  The only remaining contact was the annual Christmas card, which kept us in touch. 

That was until we reconnected through Facebook.  We now know what's happening in our lives, family, and house.  I saw the robin's nest with four eggs right on a window sill at her house and worried whether they would make it.  They did.  Last week she posted several pictures of her garden; one particular picture of the rose arbor caught my eye.  I asked her if I could paint from it.  She replied "yes" and emailed me the full file. 

We agreed that the gas meter and other evidence of the everyday suburban life be edited out from a painting.  Since I have never been to her house, I couldn't tell what was beyond the inviting arbor/gate, heavily laden with the old-fashioned roses called "Pinky".  So I had to make up as I went along.  I am not a big fan of the late Thomas Kinkade, but "Beth's Rose Arbor" has the Kinkadian romantic feel, doesn't it?  I hope Beth approves.

"Spring Garden" (oil on linen; 11" x 14") sold

sold

Reference photo

As I said yesterday, I am done with winter paintings.  Winter is over where I live and in my heart.  Time to move on to the spring stuff!  We plein-air painters are seasonal creatures, sensitive to the changes in temperature, the angle of the sun, and the life cycle of plants.  It's hard to paint snow inside when daffodils and hyacinths are blooming outside.  Even if we paint in our studios on a rainy day, our mind and heart yearn for the outdoors.

It was a soggy day yesterday; I got drenched top to bottom doing yard work.  The Southeast was pummeled by the destructive tornadoes.  I, however, painted "Spring Garden" from a photo I took last year on a most beautiful spring day.  The subject is a white garden gate at River Farm in Alexandria, VA. 

The gate glows in the sun.  Irises, daisies, peonies, and some other white flowers are blooming.  The power of art is such that it will be always spring in "Spring Garden."  Flowers will never die.  The sun will never go down.  I love art.