Friday, January 29, 2010


Have been looking at archaic space again. It is flattened, figures and objects in silhouette or profile view, "background" of indeterminant depth, areas of flat color in a limited palette–often red, yellow, black, & white, action arranged on a baseline. What else? Call it archaic not only because it seems to be historically old, but also because the root of archaic is arkhe, Greek meaning beginning, and this is how we start depicting space, as children. These are gouache sketches from my sketchbook of wolf & bear. Notice the Latin names spelled in phonetic Greek–lupus & ursa–a convention of Greek vases that I love.

More sketches from A Book of Rings by Anne van Cutsem, found at Norlin library (CU Boulder). Pages and pages of antique rings from Asia, Africa, & America–wow!

Saturday, January 23, 2010

First thing every day










Happy to have a routine of
drawing, though am switching to gouache & sketchbook for a few days. Here are some pages from December & January.



Dryads


Seems these paintings are dryads. Happened upon the reference somewhere and then the different kinds. Heard recently that Ecuador is the first country to protect other living beings, including trees and plants, under their constitution. Could it be? Cringe to think people cut down trees without a moment's hesitation.
Eddie Lenihan saving thorn trees in Ireland from road builders; or saving motorists from retribution?

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

When was I here last?


My retreat has been over nearly a month. What did I learn? To have a routine is essential. Get up at 6am, draw, take a short walk to welcome the day (during the "pink time" if possible), eat breakfast, head to the studio till lunch time. Afternoons are for business and errands. Evenings a little more painting at my desk with gouache, or study, meditate before bed, bed at 10pm. An alarm has been essential for rising at 6 because it's still dark.
The light is already changing. Mr. & Mrs. Fox were dancing, the skunks are out, the finches' song has changed; but the note I'm waiting for, the first note of spring, is the flicker's call. Unmistakably spring calling from the heart of winter.