We Don't Get Sunsets - Or Do We?

For 2 and a half years we've lived in a house that faces the morning. We have a fairly high hill - much taller than our house - to the west and at our property line is a thick tall stand of trees.
The other night I was talking to my daughter on the phone when I saw the colors. I told her I was listening but I had to get my camera and take a picture of the not sunset. "The NOT sunset?"
What startled me was a tall thunderhead with bright sunset colors hanging in the east right by the rising moon. I've seen several of these reverse or left over or reflected sunsets and often taken pictures. While it is true that we do not get to watch the sun sinking into the western sky, we certainly do see something awesome on a regular basis, in the evening, around sunset.

Inventions

I enjoy inventing and designing!
When a problem arises, my natural inclination is to scheme and figure and think. Most of the time after a prolonged period of arguing several sides of the issue, after debating with myself the pros and cons of various solutions, I go to sleep one night and dream a viable, less problematic solution or design. There are times I believe the solutions are divine and other times when I believe that I simply must get my cognitive self disabled so that a good solution has a chance to be born with out me killing it with logic!
I've just finished two inventions that I'm quite pleased with. One is a easel which will hold any size canvas I would care to consider portable and yet dissemble easily to fit in a small tote bag. It's sturdy, adaptable and adjustable. I'm pleased. My first try ended up being sturdy enough but would not dissemble. Luckily I have a husband who understands hardware!
The second invention is a stackable, storable work station which holds brushes or pencils, water, a resource, a palette and one of the afore mentioned easels. I actually need one more tweak for that to be complete - and of course, varnish or sealer of some kind. I already have orders for the work station.
I know that a french painters box will do much of what the two above will accomplish together. Yet it does not fit my purpose and they are costly when setting up a studio. Maybe not individually, but 6? While the workstation is a hybrid of two existing forms, it still is my hybrid, works better than a simple folding table and is still usable for painting with or without an easel, drawing wet or dry, etc. Both easel and workstation can be set up and ready to work in less than 5 minutes. And having these sets will reduce the amount of space needed and increase the ease of traffic in the room. I'm excited to get it done.
The picture is another invention of mine: a keyboard stand with music rack created in 2004.

Philosophy of painting according to Donna part 4

One of the things I have regretted most in my painting experience is seeing a painting I completed and loved wed to a horrid frame. I had the experience twice and they stick in my mind. Most professional framers carefully consider both the integrity of the picture and the wishes of the client. In both of the afore mentioned cases, the recipient of the artwork chose the frame. One was a classic sailing ship on the open sea. The person used a weathered barnwood frame that totally detracted from its character. Another was a simple Baroque flower painting which was placed in a large ornate gold frame. Sometimes no frame would be considerably better than a contradictory frame.
Also not protecting your work will leave it vulnerable to the ph around it and to grease and dirt build up.

Displaying a painting

Don’t be in a hurry to wed your painting to a frame. Let it mature and speak to you.

Paintings should have a protective coat. Acrylic: first coat of clear acrylic in about two months. Oil: first coat of clear finish in a year. Be sure to clean it gently but well and dry it thoroughly before coating. Two to three coats are sufficient on either medium. Use a satin to semi-gloss (not flat or glossy) archival finish (non acidic, non yellowing).

Think of the frame as an extension of the art not as a piece of furniture.

Never upstage or downplay your painting with an inappropriate frame. Use your heart and mind in framing also.

Give your painting space to be. Don’t crowd it into a decorating scheme that destroys its character.

The painting above is one from my NC beaches series. It was done from my own resources and based on a picture I took of my daughter and husband standing on the beach in the early morning watching the sunrise. It is acrylic on canvas, 36" by 28".

Darkness?

Dark is Relative


Sitting in the grey
listening to cicadas and tree frogs and crickets
competing desperately to be heard above the crowd,
feeling the wind blow moist kisses on my face and arms
caressing me with cool refreshment and warm desire,
watching the fire flies wink about trying to find mates
trying to mate with my solar lamps,
sensing the cool stare of a quarter-plus moon
ignoring me to look over his shoulder toward the eastern horizon,
smelling the faint perfume of mimosa, roses, crepe myrtle
settling about me with the evening dew,
tasting the goodness of a chai tea with honey and vanilla
mixing with a slight hint of the city’s effort to control the mosquito population,
knowing relative freedom from fear and anxiety
sitting in the grey, almost dark, of a summer midnight,
Lifting my face to the sky, I reach out my arms
breathing in life and strength for tomorrow.
Written by DW July 2007

The Picture is a pastel born of a pre-dawn vigil on the Outer Banks of North Carolina in 2004. 12" by 18", it uses the concepts of luminoscity. I tried to photograph it, but couldn't, so I drew it instead. The title is simply "Tuesday Morning".

Philosophy of painting according to Donna - Part 3

This is part 3, then: Finishing a painting


If you are using a resource, you must realize that no one cares about the resource unless you drag it along: bad idea. Serve the work not the resource.

Train your eye but follow your heart. Don’t be afraid to finish and then paint another painting. Most artists have several paintings of the same thing at some point in their development.

Details must be believable. Don’t add photographic blur or extreme foreshortening unless it serves the work. Sometimes, it’s best to get a second opinion (resource) if there is too much photographic distortion in the main resource.

Beware of the ‘great nothing’! Be willing to make a decision about what exists in dark, undefined potions of your resource. This decision may be based on additional resource, memory or gut feeling. It’s better to be wrong than to create a feeling of neglect.

Bring details into all areas together. Never overwork one spot in the canvas as that destroys unity. If you follow this concept, you will know when the painting is finished.
The painting above "Trail, Devil's Den State Park" is the one I referred to in part 2. I considered naming it "Out of the Shadows" but settled on Trail, . . . instead.

Philosophy of painting according to Donna -part 2

This post is an addition to the previous one. I have two more sections which I plan to post in the future.
Building a painting

Painting is like building a house. Like walls, floors, plumbing and wiring in a house, the structure of composition through line, space, color, form, shape, texture and value must be built intelligently and completed before you add the surface touches (details, highlights, etc.) If I carry in the furniture and china before the structure is complete, I slow the builders and my pretties will be destroyed.

Don’t fear your painting. The worst we have to do is correct it. It can always be fixed.

Take a break often and look at your painting from a few steps back, maybe from a lot of steps back. During the structural stage, the far view is more important than the close view.

Stop before you are exhausted and frustrated. If you start feeling tense or discouraged, back away or walk away. When you come again, take a long objective look. Regain your vision before you continue. Ask yourself “What does this painting need from me.” Don’t be afraid of the answers. Sometimes you must leave the original vision to serve the present work.

Bring the whole painting along together. One neglected area affects your opinion of all the others.

The painting above is one I worked on for a long time. Since it is acrylic, that was not a problem. In all, it took 8 or 9 years to complete! It's somewhat large and depicts a real spot in my real world. It became strongly representational and finely detailed. At first I was quite discouraged by that, for I had earlier painted a trail from the same park and it was spontaneous and free and had my heart. This picture is an example of discarding yourself to serve the work.
Many of my paintings are a result of my teaching and those often have a strong attention to detail. The paintings I do simply for myself are more formal in composition and more impressionistic in style.

Philosophy of painting according to Donna

Many people speak of wishing they could be a part of my studio and training. I’ve decided to share - every so often - some ideas and tips that I share regularly in my studio. Good painting is based on a mindset. I hope these tips will enhance your thinking about paint.

Beginning a painting

A painting is a painting not a drawing. Paint is not photography, colored pencil, crayon, pastel, conte’, or even watercolor. As you begin to paint, you must change your mind, leave the photograph and drawing utensils behind.

Accept and enjoy the thick, tactile opacity of the paint. Details may be delicate, washes may be transparent, but the painting should be neither. Don’t be afraid to commit to the paint.

If you don’t like that first quick emotion charged layout (and it should be quick and emotion charged) you will not like the finished painting no matter how much time and heart you put into it.

To love the first layout, you must learn to look into the future. You must know how to see and develop potential. Ninety percent of success at painting depends on learning to “see.”

Never allow the first layout to cloud your vision of the future. No matter how much you love the beginning, do not deny it its future. Never marry an infant painting to a frame. There comes a point when you must give up your will for the good of the work. It is that experience that makes you a successful painter, not the sale of your piece.

The above painting is done with 4 colors (red, blue, yellow, white). All mixing took place on the canvas. Donna Woodall, 2002

Smilin' n gigglin'

My husband is putting the pickets up on the railing around the deck. I flit in and out. I've worked on my epic poem some - it's getting close. And we've dreamed and talked and remembered while doing simple chores all morning. We've reached some consensus on what comes next as far as the remodel. That's a good thing!
While we worked and visited, I laughed at how the balls and floaties would no longer sail between the railing and wait patiently for retrieval at the bottom of my hill. "Boy, we could have used this," I commented. Yet inside I giggled at the games that we invented to manage retrieval when all available toys made it out under the boat or trampoline or behind the wall or deck. Well, we won't have to do that again. The thought is happy/sad.
Working around my pool is curious. For so long it's been a busy hubbub of laughter and splashing and various games. It is so quiet and still now. Yet there, this morning, was a sense of joy. It was like a neighbor child standing at the fence smiling, now giggling, saying "Wanna come play?" I left a few floaties in place just in case I become thoroughly convinced! Yes, the pool is missing the children. Me too.
Long separated toddler friends, my neighbor's niece came to swim with my granddaughter. That's another story.
Blessings

Entry for July 19, 2007

I woke very late, for me, today. There is so much to do: grapes to mash, laundry to do, rooms to clean, plants to prune, weeds to pull. Well, I read blogs and such as that! So now with less than an hour to face my students, I pull myself together, clean and arrange my studio for the day. Today I have acrylic classes, so I must clean and put up all remains of yesterday's oil classes.
Teaching is so good for me. Cleaning my house would be a good thing, but I really am glad to have retained my summer classes. There have been a few times in the last 4 weeks when I considered it a bad choice, but honestly, it stablizes me. When I'm in my studio, I am captured by it mentally, physically, emotionally.
There will be times for processing when I get back to my routine of waking early and all that that brings. I will get the posts on either side of my trail up the hill finished. I will get the last wall of the sunroom and the definition on the doors of my Kiln room. I will begin the upper gardens and the play tower on the hill. We'll start the renovation of our kitchen and the building of our carport. All those things will fit themselves into our minutes and hours, but for today, I'll don my teacher hat and smile and forget anything else exists. Blessings.
The picture is a lead piece for an acrylic painting. I always lead students through their first encounter with paint so they will learn good habits and thinking and establish a positive relationship to the paint.

I'm here

So here I sit: in a house that seems too large, too quiet. Just a short while ago, it was brimming and bustling. Activity, concern, requirement, love, disappointment, desire. It was not all it could have been.
My house is not the clean, organized efficient thing it was a little over a month ago. And that previous evaluation is questionable now. Little things we ignored became frustrations. Big things we dealt with became impedance or reroute. Nothing really went as planned. Yet, I would not undo it now if I could.
The third week into my busy, my mother was here. To be sure, her visit was affected by the rain, but the truth is she’s slowing down quickly. She will be 90 in September and for the first time, I am considering the fact that her time is concluding. Her perception is hampered, her body is shaky, her mind is –unstable. It has occurred to me in the past few days that one day in a not distant future, I’ll receive a call. I’ll hurry a few things into my car and, with or without my husband, rush off down a road familiar yet strange to sit or stand at her bedside.
I’ll no doubt think of the busy times when I only saw her as a result of furious planning and quick short visits related to a holiday or birthday or some serious breakdown. I’ll probably remember those times when I promised and couldn’t deliver. I’ll remember the times she and my dad took up the slack in the lean times. I’ll also remember looking into her vibrant blue eyes sparking with excitement and hope. I’ll remember combing her long blonde hair and waiting impatiently for dresses that were never quite finished but were worn anyway. I’ll remember camping and Christmas and the house my parents built but didn’t get to live in.
I’ll remember love and joy and help and pain and anger and sorrow –those things that make up life and relationships. I’ll wish for summer of 2006 when we laughed and talked and played and developed a little of the relationship we both wanted and never had. It’s a long drive with lots of time to think.
I’ll probably run into her room amid others who had a shorter ride and call out, “Mom I here.” I’ll probably see her intense blue eyes mist and fix for a moment on me and then I’ll sit with the others and talk of days and times and nonsense while we wait.
Our relationship has been a curious thing. I’ve never felt truly accepted by my mother, though I did feel loved. Even if she had any reason for pride in me, she would never have admitted it. In fact she still won’t. She probably says those words to others. Maybe it’s a sense of competition. Perhaps owning my piddling successes would have made her feel her own losses more acutely. I can’t say I understand, I only try to justify the rejection with the love.
I will remember that at times I was selfish and didn’t go just because I didn’t want to face her. I’ll understand that when things were critical, I did go. I’ll see ways I could have made her life sweeter, calmer. I’ll also see the times I tried to place myself in the gap for mom and dad both. I’ll recall angry words and desperate prayers. I may remember firmly insisting that she stop thinking her own thought and listen. I’ll remember telling her that I know she is strong and spiritual. I’ll hear myself saying “I’m not trying to instruct or change your belief. I want you simply to know me and understand if only for a moment.” I’ll see her eyes drop their veil for a short time as I try desperately to explain what I mean and why it’s important to me.
Yet on that day, the time for reconciliation will be past. “I love you,” will be the only important words. Tenderness and compassion will be the only valid emotions. I only pray she will hear and accept when that time comes.
And just as I see myself standing there, sitting there, I see myself lying there listening for the last child to say “Mom, I’m here.”

Simple Pleasures

We stayed home this weekend. I wasn't too thrilled with yesterday (Saturday), though the trip out to the star party should have been a hit. The kids were too tired and I'm not sure just what they were expecting. Even though there were lots of kids there of various ages, ours did not soak into the idea of standing in lines to look through any size telescope to see any kind of stars or planets! For sure they thought the lazer used sparingly by the University Prof was really cool, but he didn't loan it out or even let them hold it. It was a fairly clear sky in the long run and I told them some stories about my experience with some of the constellations, but they were quickly ready to come back home.
Today, after church we decided to just stay put. Louis suggested a trip, but I knew they were all exausted and felt it a better idea to just hang out and maybe play in the pool with them. That turned out well. We let them pick a place for lunch. Afterward, at their request, we watched a Veggie Tales movie, then batted three balls around the pool trying to keep them in the air long enough to justify setting up the volley ball net. We didn't. We made a rule that who ever batted the third ball out of the pool had to go get them all. Eventually the game deteriorated to a variety of face and body pummellings with frequent retrievals. Of course every time someone had to get out to retrieve the balls, they- all three kids and sometimes grandpa- would have to cannonball into the pool in sync. The resulting waves were quite fun.
We decided on a spaghetti supper on the deck with the waterfall and lights on. The girls took turns helping me fix supper while grandpa set stuff up. We lit the torches and had a sweet satisfying supper together. I put the icecream mixture into the icecream freezer right after supper and we all got brainfreeze from eating it too fast. Then just before bed, we put on a recording of the Lord's Prayer and did it in sign language several times. It's a beautiful recording from a multi-artist project called Let's Roll. It was quite an enjoyable end to a very enjoyable day.
Sometimes, the simplest joys surprise us.
The picture is of Louis (pink air mat!) and the girls coming off a short drop last weekend on the Little Missouri, Winding Stair, near Mena AR.

Just Thinkin'

Today was a difficult day. I can't explain why. My classes went well. I made specialty waffles for breakfast which seemed appreciated, but it was still a difficult day.
The time with my grandchildren is going so quickly, and I'm having difficulty processing it all. They were all quite tired tonight and ready to go to bed.
The rain let up long enough for the sun to warm the water a little. The two younger and I swam and baked goodies while the older and my husband took off for a youth meeting. She said she enjoyed it. They exhausted themselves and me with water volleyball, diving tricks and pranks. The tent I had set up in the back yard to dry from last weekend's campout dried today and I was able to get most of the gear put up.
The camping trip went okay. We went to Albert Pike State Park and hiked down to a awesome mile long boulder field on the Little Missouri River called 'The Winding Stair'. We only played in about a quarter mile of it-a quarter mile filled with deep pools, fast steep shoots, small water falls and huge boulders to jump from. The kids seemed to love it, at least for a time. But we didn't have an over abundance of time at the 'Winding Stair' anyway. On Monday we had planned to hike a little, swim a little and then go to the falls to play- another lovely natural water park. It rained on Monday so we waited, ate lunch in the Suburban and finally walked to the falls in the rain. Consequently, I didn't get pictures of the falls. You're not supposed to carry anything out of a wilderness or a state park, but no one told the chiggers.
Yesterday I began a painting with each of the girls. I think they didn't understand how it would play out and were a little reluctant to accept what I was telling them. Today, they both made good progress and I think they liked the results. One is almost finished, the other has a bit to do yet.
Something that happened today reminded me of Shel Silverstien's book "The Missing Piece." For the first time, I realized that the book is terribly one sided. It only tells the tale from the perspective of the wheel. I wondered how the wedge felt about the whole thing. What was its story sitting there unable to move, alone, searching passers by and hoping for that part that would allow it to be complete, to see the world, to join in. Then after a short period of acceptance and purpose, it was again cast aside to a lonely existence, perhaps forever! Sheeze Donna, it was just a story with a point to make.
The picture is from the Little Mo near Mena, Arkansas.

Black

There is a blackness that sits encased between my conscious and subconscious. The solutions are based on undefined problems. I'm truly tired. Not weary mind you, but tired. I can't process it, any of it. The tired doesn't spring from labor or business, but from answers I don't want to know and feelings I don't want to own. My mind struggles for a coherent alignment of reality with my emotions, my heart turns a deaf ear and cries silently at the possibilities and impossibilities. The poet still clings tenatiously, now tentatively to a cliff above an abbyss. The words rhyme, but they have no soul.

The aged warrior has killed the bard.
The child tried to resurrect it,
But resurrection takes time and the ability to hold on to belief
To believe in purpose and cling blindly to truth that can only be felt.
The child turns to sing with the bouncy sweet popular unprincipled idiots
The sirens of youth and desire feed an unknown longing
They distract the heart from a sworn value, a determined purpose.
And so the aged warrior’s knowing insistence breaks in
Condemning this and that it gains strength though not mobility
The child simply shrugs, laughs and bounces away
As the bard gasps a song with its dying breath.

The picture is from the Little Missouri River in Western Arkansas.

Can't Go Back

This is my mom and I at my dad's grave last Sunday.
If you hit mom on my tags, it will give you an entry for July 6 last year. This entry explains some of the world between us. Not too important unless you're interested.
This year's visit has been different. Mom has slowed alot. She has ignored my gardens this year primarily because of the rain and rain and then there was the rain. She's only been in my pool once this visit. Today it was warmer and sunny, but she doesn't go out in the hot sun and after her eye visit, she didn't seem like she felt wonderful. She went to bed after supper and I haven't seen her since. Been trying to think of excuses to get her up and visit.
We had planned to take her home on Saturday, but then we were going to camp with the kids and play in one of the wildest, most wonderful rivers in the state. But the rain . . . . Even though it is forcast to be nice Saturday and Sunday, the rains will have swollen the river and saturated the campsites and trails. Tonight Louis and I talked about taking her home tomorrow. I haven't consulted her yet, though I imagine she'd be overjoyed.
Tuesday I stepped out of my shower into a lake! Yep. Plumbing nightmare. We got it fixed this morning. Yesterday's fireworks were nice, not stellar, but nice. My youngest daughter went with us. When we arrived home, the country club down the end of the street and around a bend was starting their fireworks. They were very nice, but mom didn't feel like walking out to the deck to watch. She went to bed and Louis and I sat on the deck and watched them.
Last year we had so much fun in the pool together -just the two of us- swimming every hot evening just at dusk. I was looking forward to that time and sharing, but this year was cool and rainy. I had so many thoughts. I think the family cookout was a good thing even in the rain and the trip Sunday was a warm fuzzy. It will have to do until next time if there is a next time. Peace.

A good visit

We picked my mom up in Lousiana on Friday and planned a family get-together so that my girls and their families could spend some time with her. It was huge and fun even if it did rain most of the day. We didn't have lightening and the kids were already wet! When everyone left, we cleaned the house and the yard and the porch and the pool and the deck and . . . well you get the picture!
Sunday, my husband, my mom and I headed out after church for a town she used to live in, an hour and a half north, to let her visit old friends and to visit my dad's grave. It was a great day. She got to see several friends, we visited the cemetary and took pictures. It was a sweet, mellow day. The rain held off while we had to be outside. There was a rightness with the world.
Today we almost had a disagreement, but instead of walking away from it as I once would have, I insisted that she hear my words and understand and not take offense. It was tense for a little, but worked out in the end. Tonight, she read my current writing project and commented enthusiastically and then we talked fast and furious telling stories we all know and have told or heard a hundred times.
We have 4 more days. We take her home on Saturday. I hope it goes as well.
Peace.

light show

walked out tonight and saw this sight

with colors bright in sunset light

with camera tight in sudden flight

brought it right before the night