A strange morning, this Halloween, waking thinking that it was Monday, not Sunday, eager to resume work in the studio. A sweet, hot cup of coffee enjoyed while perusing the internet, discovering other artists, among them, Painting Well, who donates 100% of her profits to cancer research. My belabored selection, a rare purchase. . . then, apropos of Halloween, in that last sip of coffee, I notice something alien swilling around my mouth. Ptah, ptah!!! Expectorated remains examined between index finger and thumb: a soggy spider, who'd somehow fallen into the coffee pot, drowned and ended up in that last swig of caffeinated brew.
"Life Line" is dedicated to a friend, recently and suddenly taken by death.
- Nancy Boudreau
The painting above is 16 x 20 inches, Golden acrylics and gel mediums on stretched canvas.
A different technique here, carving the image out of a gray middleground. The brush is used like a chisel or pencil with shadows pushing the surface away and highlights pulling the surface forward. The subject of acorns is loaded. There's a super abundance of acorns in the northwest hills of Connecticut this year, impossible to ignore. Walking through the woods, they roll under foot, in a subversive way. I compare them to ideas, little nuggets of truth that are sometimes inconvenient, though fruitful, full of potential. Most are consumed with little result, some take root and grow into impressive trees/structures/organizations. We, the artists and writers, are acorns scattered on the internet.
An October battleground between light and dark, the lowering angle of the sun displaying increasing weakness as cold and shadows begin to take over a little more each day. Despite brightly lit leaves passing from chartruese to yellow, it's almost impossible to feel anything but a pessimistic sense of loss this time of year. The myth of Persephone's abduction by Hades comes to mind.
Walking through the Pootatuck State Forest after a heavy rain in early October, this is a view of the stream along the Fire Trail. There are just enough green leaves still on the trees overhead to cast a chartreuse light on the water. The shadows reflect blue from the sky. These are damp woods, and moss flourishes on boulders artfully strewn across hills and valleys by the last passing glacier.
Squantz Pond in New Fairfield, Connecticut during the first week of October. Hike down the fire trail from Pine Hill to find this view, accompanied by the sounds of the water lapping and wind in the trees.
A single maple in a Berkshire meadow, reminds me that some individuals have no choice but to stand alone. Such an individual benefits from not having to share resources: they have all the light, water and nutrients needed for optimal growth. On the other hand, the exposure affords no protection: when lightning strikes this one will be the likely target.