The studio is quiet.
After six months of painting, with pattern and color whirling and twirling and dancing over my canvases, the 16 new paintings for my February solo show at Roby King Gallery have left and are happily on display.
It is a mysterious path from studio to gallery.
In the studio, the paintings group together, some not quite completed, others just beginning, still others that are “all done” but then aren’t. And then, suddenly, after all that time spent together, out the door they all go–canvases filled with stories and thoughts, and memories and history.
The beach has beckoned since the opening. Neglected since the intense work in the studio, it welcomes me back with the treasures I love. Such inspiration, these little shards of old, tumbled Blue Willow china and yellow faded pottery.
And the bulbs are popping up–the snowdrops in drifts under the ancient and gnarled Japanese Maple (named Lulu) are so fresh and so lovely. I want to paint white flowers, Masses of them!
And, ever present in the studio, the scent of a Diptyque candle. The paintings for February’s new show were accompanied by the daily sweet scent of a new favorite “Mousses”, described thusly: “the “fresh green perfume of moss”.” Perfect for our beautiful rainy and foggy and misty and magical Northwest! Painting weather, for sure!
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