Marshall Point Light

A special watercolor painted on a gallery-wrapped canvas over wooden stretcher bars...a fun new way for me to express my love of color and my home state of Maine!  The grounds of this lighthouse in Port Clyde are fabulous to explore...grassy knolls, pebbled beach, rocky shore.  Searching for sea glass is one of my favorite waterfront activities, and while hunting one day I turned to see the lighthouse from an unusual perspective.  Because of its unique and inviting ramp, Marshall Point Light is most often seen from the vantage point of approaching the ramp. This side view allowed the lighthouse keeper's home to reflect the setting western sun, as well as the time-worn rocks that support its foundation.  Perspective is an important skill to master.  How does one learn it?  More importantly, how does one master it?

~~12"x12" watercolor on canvas $300

"Beautiful Friends"

I call this one "Beautiful Friends" because each pear has its own personality.  Look at the bright yellow one--third from the right.  She's the one who shines brightly and radiates joy.  The first one on the left, she's a little shy, but actively engaged in the group.  The little red one, she just makes everyone laugh.  Each one a bit different...collected together make a community of friends.  Beauty is defined in so many ways.  I prefer to seek the beauty of one's heart~~for therein lies truth.  I had so much fun painting this one, that I just had to do it again:

Framed in muted green wooden frames, with custom double matting.  $400 each. 

Beautiful Blue Butterfly

I began this painting with my eyes closed.  Brush in hand, blank canvas before me, the first few strokes of blue paint went on without the guidance of sight.   The concept flowed from my spirit, through my brain, to my heart and out past my fingers holding the brush and onto the canvas.  I knew I wanted to capture the delicate edge of a butterfly wing.  I knew I wanted to use blue paint.  Beyond that, this painting simply emerged, one brushstroke at a time.

The butterfly wings give an element of uplift and perspective.  While the hydrangeas were being formed, I felt a supernatural kind of connection to creativity itself.  When the falling petals in the lower right corner showed up, I began to think upon the legacy we leave when we leave this earth.  Then I felt the spirit of Cassidy Charette with me as I completed this piece...as it transformed from the message I had hoped to communicate to Cass's message:  Leave a legacy of Light.

Taken from her friends and family at such a tender age, Cass nevertheless has impacted all who knew her...and even many who did not.  Her generous spirit lives on through the replication of her actions while she was still with us.  Treasures stored up in Heaven.  Our many material trappings bring contentment and comfort on a physical level...but consider what non-material gifts we can bestow upon our circle of people...love, compassion, a helping hand.  Time is short my friends.  In the Holy Bible we are taught to number our days.  Make this day count in the life of those whose path you cross.  ~~~Shine on, Cass!

Listening

Meet "Red", our resident Cardinal.  This painting was inspired by a photograph I took of him finding food for his young 'uns this Spring.  I discovered that the male cardinal feeds the hatchlings while the mama cardinal moves on to build a new nest for the next brood.  He's tilting his head to listen for worms.  Can you imagine having to listen to a worm crawl to get fed?  How quiet you would have to get to allow that to happen.  Quiet in the mind, heart, and soul.  And if you took the opportunity to get THAT quiet, what would you hear?

I'm Back!

Phew!  For a while there I wasn't sure if my creative spirit would emerge from a season of storms and discouragement.  Sure, I painted a few pieces, finished a couple others...but honestly it was a mechanical process...without connection to my inner artist.  Today, however, I entered my studio filled with both inspiration and motivation!  And voila!  This beautiful dancer emerged from the end of my pencil, encouraged by the colors on my brush.  She's Dancing to the Light.

Ever wonder why some things happen?? Like, when you show up somewhere, and wonder why you're there?  That happened to me yesterday.  I had the opportunity to connect with an old friend and watch her daughter dance in a competition.  While the conversation was wonderful, and the dancing amazing...more than once I asked myself what I was doing there.  I've never watched a dance competition before.  I asked myself, "wouldn't you rather be watching March Madness, cozy at home...".

The answer soon became: "You're supposed to be here!"  The inventive dance moves, the bright costumes, the music...all fed my creative spirit. I found myself reminded that a tu-tu does in fact resemble an up-side-down poppy.  A nudge by my friend suggesting I should paint a dancer pushed me forward.

And so, I am grateful...that my friend agreed to meet me...that her daughter decided to pursue her passion for dance.  But most especially that by simply "showing up" one can influence another in ways that may never be known.  Isn't that cool?

Liesel's Story (Humble Beginnings)

Five years ago a young mother passed away from a terrible blood cancer.  Her friends and neighbors loved her so much they wanted to honor her memory in some quiet way.  They approached her widower to inquire about how best to accomplish their mission and ask his blessing.   He recalled how compassionate the nurses and staff at the hospital had been toward him and his 6 year old son.  “Something that reminds them of Liesel, her journey, and how they helped us through” was his best suggestion.  “Maybe a painting to hang at the hospital that was Liesel’s ‘home’ for so many months”, he offered.  

The neighbors went away puzzled, as they were not personally familiar with any artists, nor did they think they could raise the funds to purchase such a memorial.  However, they prayed, and trusted that if it was meant to be, it would come about.  And it did.  The daughter of one of the neighbors had a friend who was just getting started on her own journey of sharing her artwork as a way of sharing her faith, while simultaneously coming to terms with her own blood cancer.  It would be a wonderful, well-timed opportunity to debut her original work at a corporate level.  It became less about the cost of the painting, and more about bringing beauty and peace to a wing of the hospital that often lacked both.   Connections were made.  Telephone calls went back and forth.  Review and approval of the artist’s work had to be made through corporate channels.  A week later, it was a go.

The time came to select a piece of artwork.  The neighbors approached the widower and his young son again, asking for their selection of what would be displayed in memory of their wife and mother.  They viewed the artist’s paintings.  The boy was drawn to the red bird in the snow-covered trees.  It reminded him of the love from his mother.  And so it was.  The art was purchased by the neighbors and delivered to the hospital. 

This story’s value is in how the community came together for a young family…the medical community, the neighbors, the friends.  But the collateral benefit impacted the artist as well.  Many people were involved in the process, each offering encouragement and praise for the humble beginnings of a path toward creativity.  This generous spirit wove its way through the entire process.  The thread of hope and love tied it all together.   This is also my story.   The artist was me.  The watercolor "Treetops in Winter" hangs to this day, on the 5^th floor of Maine Medical Center, known as the Gibson Pavilion.