Sunrise in February

Mon, 6 Feb 2012 11:00:58 -0600

Our family’s Thanksgiving tradition is to pull our winter recreational equipment out from storage, get it ready for use and better yet head to the snow covered hills for a ski adventure. This winter the dust has collected on snow shoes, cross-country skis, and sleds. I understand that our arctic jet stream has tipped eastward to hover over Siberia and the Eastern hemisphere. I have waited since the Fall to capture on film banks of white snow casting blue and lavender shadows. Why wait for traditional images of winter? The diaphanous fog and crystal vegetation are evocative of the unusual and overlooked, perhaps holding more import than our expectations.

Amber Waves

Thu, 1 Sep 2011 00:00:00 -0500

South of our town of Northfield, by less than two miles, lies the undisturbed hill side of Valley Grove. Walking to its highest point one can see the farms spread in orderly array, as they stretch to the horizon on three sides. To the South lies Big Woods State Park, quiet and dark. A walk along the hillside brings you to the merge of sky and the earth. The drone of late summer insects drowns out the rest of natures calls, now diminished, as the rapidly shortening days mark the advance towards cold dormancy. I visit there to think and find inspiration.

Setting up for more work

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 11:41:32 -0500

Amid boxes, paint, and cleaning supplies, the work is out and is started. Why is it so hard to start a fresh body of work? Once the process is underway it takes on a life of its own, and seems to unfold in a natural way. Maybe it is the light streaming in my new windows that has refreshed my desire to sit and work. My new space is a pleasure, and it is perhaps reflected on to the artist board.

Out side my window, old studio

Sun, 31 Jul 2011 10:07:29 -0500

I have moved on. Now in a new brighter studio, with more light, more room, more air, my work hums along in a faster more directed way. But I have wonderful memories and work from my old space, and I miss it. I always meant to paint the roof top view out my window, not much there really, just the moving sky. A chapter in my life is written, another one begins.

Wed, 5 Jan 2011 11:10:32 -0600

Out at mid-day on the solstice, the winter sun casting our shadows without warmth. Six months from now the grass and brambles will preclude our open prairie romp.