A new season in the garden

A new season in the garden has begun. Weeks ago M started seeds for a number of spring crops including bok choy, broccoli, lettuce, celery, cabbage, watercress, kale, and so on. He's been working hard in the garden during the longer evenings to work the soil and plant. Sugar snaps have been sowed in the ground and spinach plants that over-wintered are looking healthy and tasting sweet. He has also planted more onion starts as well as new fruit trees; two peach, one apricot, one pear, and a plum. A few days ago, on a less than springy afternoon, the first daffodils showed their sunny faces. I brought in three to brighten the kitchen. Also, we broadcast some poppy seeds, in a patch among other poppy varieties that sowed from the fall. Craving color, I planted some midnight blue pansies in planters for the front porch. Inside, a few of our cactuses are blooming, including the golden star. Inspired as always by nature, I have been working on several botanical pieces, a peek of one you see above in progress. I always have loved drawing from life. Soon, I'll share more of these pieces, and what I have planned for them.

Now as I type this, snowflakes are falling outside. ​

Guest posting at habit blog

I am happy to be a guest again at habit, sharing photos and words throughout March. 

February's sketchbook

Above are selected pages from my sketchbook work in February. Looking at them on a structural level, ​I see bright colors mixed with subtle or tempered hues, pattern explorations, imprints of light and shadow, and a contrast between controlled markings and those that seem to abandon control. Yet to me those physical descriptions also relay the concepts.

Some of the written entries in my sketchbook I included in my "thirteen" posts (2.5.13 & 2.22.13). Below are a few other excerpts, that may make sense only to me, but perhaps they reflect the confluence of tangible and abstract ideas.

"Time becomes defined by would have beens and..."

"Richter said something like, "he likes work he doesn't understand, or doesn't like work he understands. I agree."

"Pre-language."

"In the dark I wait. Light. Desert. Water."

Working on paper

On Friday I prepared a sheet of watercolor paper, about 18 inches square. Shortly after I started painting, the whole thing was annoying me so I tore it apart without hesitation. Then I could breathe and work unconfined by the patterns I had begun. I kept the broad marks and added details in graphite and watercolor.  My intent for working larger is to prepare for several giant canvases I have that range in size from 2x3 ft., 3x4 ft., to one at 5 ft. I'm getting excited to work on them, and other than one big watercolor that I have going (at 4 ft. across), I think it's been since the late 1990's that I've worked on that scale. Yay big! Actually, I can cheer for both working small and large. I like to make small works that are intimate, quiet, emotional, and that draw the viewer in. I'm curious to see if and how I translate these ideas to the big canvases.

January's sketchbook

To be honest, in recent years I haven't been devoted to keeping a sketchbook. Is that a confession? Perhaps it sounds that way because of the perception that artists are to carry a sketchbook the same way people these days are glued to their smartphones. At least, that's what we were taught in school. No, I have always worked out ideas on individual pieces of paper, as I talk about here. But this year I started the practice of either writing, drawing, or painting daily, or almost daily, in a sketchbook. It's something I have always wanted to do, but I haven't committed myself. So far, it's going pretty well. Here's a look at a few pages from January.

So what about you, do you keep a sketchbook, or journal?