"Riverbend Bluebells" (oil on stretched canvas; 16" x 20")

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There is a place in Great Falls,VA, called Riverbend Park.  It is a pretty park where kids go for school outings to see American-Indian artifacts and practice archery.  When Virginia bluebells are in season in the spring, it turns into an enchanted forest by the river.  Imagine acres and acres of delicate blue flowers on long stems catching light or in deep shadows.  I tried to capture that sense of joy and wonder in my dotted painting.

"Glorious Poppies" (oil on stretched canvas; 12" x 12")

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We had an afternoon to kill during our Scandinavian vacation, so we decided to drive around Oland ("o" with an umlaut), a big island off the southeast coast of Sweden.  Rick Steves's guide book said that Oland with its mild weather was considered the "Provence of Sweden".  Even so, when I first saw the poppy fields, I couldn't believe my eyes.  Poppy fields in Sweden?

My daughter and I got out of the car to find out what was going on.  Poppies were growing amid wheat for miles. We tried to walk the miles until we got tired.  When we asked around later, nobody seemed to know why. Most people seemed to think that poppies were just growing wild.  I believe they were planted alongside wheat.  For whatever reason, the poppy fields of Oland made my day!

You can see how happy I was!

"Hope Poppy" (oil on linen; 4" x 5") gift

gift

I painted "Hope Poppy" as a gift to Pat MacMaster.  She found me on Facebook, fell in love with my paintings, and ordered two pet portraits.  In other words, she is a great fan.  Then she went out of her way to introduce my work to her friend, who was uncomfortable with the computer stuff.  So Pat served as a go-between, sending me Lynn's dogs' pictures, texting her, etc.  To make the long story short, I was able to paint and sell three pet portraits thanks to her.

When she first sent me the email about her friend, I was down.  Suddenly I felt the surge of optimism.  Someone loved my work so much that she spent her rare visit with her friend, talking her into ordering paintings.  I felt hope.  Yes, I can do it.  I can make a go of it as a full-time artist!

I titled the small painting "Hope Poppy."  A bright poppy is in full bloom amongst lush greens; a bud will open another day.  "Hope Poppy" is filled with light and hope.  Thank you, Pat.

"Poppy Field" (oil on linen; 16" x 12") sold



After
sold

"Poppy Field" before revision

"Evening Island" (oil, 14" x 11")
sold

I have a tendency of quitting a painting too soon.  It's not because I am lazy.  It's because of the fear factor--if I continue working on this pretty darn good painting, I am going to ruin it!  Last week, in his first class of the winter term, John Murray told the students to be brave: "No one is going to die here.  We are not performing a brain surgery.  So go ahead, use big brushes and lots of paint, and knock yourself out."  Or something like that.

We got a good laugh at his encouraging comments, but they got me thinking.  I have a few paintings that are supposedly finished and framed.  Whenever I look at them, however, I am bothered.  Yesterday I decided to do something about this nagging sensation and unframed a couple of the guilty paintings.  There was nothing to lose, you see?  Just as when a painting is a knock-out, it is a knock-out; when a painting doesn't work, it doesn't work.  No judges will like them; nobody will buy them either.

"Poppy Field" was too wispy.  It looked good only when I turned on a lamp next to it.  So I turned up the chroma (color intensity) of the poppies and greens in the foreground.  For "Evening Island," I increased the value scale.  The sky along the horizon was lightened and the grassy foreground was deepened.  I also added texture with a rough bristle brush, dipping it into pure paints and mixing colors directly on the painting.

I am happy to report that no one died in the process and I just rescued two paintings from the ignominy of mediocrity.  Not a bad reward for courage!