gallatin road

Last night I noticed the sound of the trains going through my neighborhood late at night. The trestle is near enough to my house that I can often hear them rumbling as they pass. I drive under it whenever I go downtown, past the used-tire shops, barbecue joints, and used car lots that make up this urban neighborhood...never short on interesting sights.

in flight

Yesterday on our walk in Shelby Park this plane flew low overhead and I managed to get a shot of it. It seems to be an Air Force plane, a common sight this close to bases like Fort Campbell. Airplanes were a motif in a recurring dream I had as a child, and I still find them a fascinating subject visually.

grackle

Since I have been trying to heal my shoulder (mostly unsuccessfully), my dog been moping around the house, missing our walks. We finally ventured out to Shelby Park today for a little stroll. The cold has not stifled the procreative urge in the birds inhabiting the marsh-- we witnessed several displays of male bravado in mallards, cardinals, and even this grackle. At first, I thought it was puffing itself up since I was getting too close with my camera, but then its partner came into view out of the brush, flying up to meet it as we moved along.

easter sunday

It was a beautiful Easter Sunday here, though a bit cold. We went to church for the first time in quite a while, and spent the remainder of the day with friends and family...a day filled with gratitude and contentment.

kentucky tree

I have painted a couple of different versions of this tree, one that I spotted on a farm during a drive through southern Kentucky last fall. It has a very strong presence that I still have yet to capture.

malcolm holcombe

Friday night we had the all too rare opportunity to hear one of our favorite songwriters, Malcolm Holcombe. Malcolm is the real thing, hailing from the mountains of western North Carolina. His gravelly voice is certainly best experienced live, when he always surprises with improvisation and performances filled with heart.

red cedar

On the shore of one of the hidden lakes grows this incredible, ancient eastern red cedar. In this view, none of the green "needles" are even visible. Its twisting, gnarled trunk grips the rock firmly as it has for decades. A captivating tree, an old soul.

under the tree

I often painted at this farm when I was living in Ohio. It is about a mile from where I grew up and has been a favorite subject. I also painted a larger version of this image, which turned out quite well.

woods mist

When I took the reference images for this piece, it was so rainy and steamy that the image turned out misty and foggy. I wanted to experiment with getting that effect in paint, and I have not attempted any larger pieces from this set of images,so I thought this would be a good chance to try it.

dark lake

Being housebound all week led me to search through some old reference for inspiration. This image is from our day at hidden lake this month, a view of the distant cliffs and murky water. I especially liked the pale trees against the darker pines.

new addition

When the weather was still warm last week, we made our way to the garden center to buy some plants. This sad little cactus was slightly diseased, but Derek liked its uniqueness, so we brought it home (at a discount!). We'll see how it fares in the long run...I don't tend to have the best luck with plants.

highway

I am finally catching up on the paintings after several days of resting the shoulder. I was drawn to this image after working at an art workshop all weekend last week with domestic violence survivors. It seemed like a good visual metaphor for where my thought were all weekend.

ouch!

Due to a very persistent muscle strain/tendonitis in my shoulder, I am under orders to rest my painting arm completely for at least a few days. This is why I have not posted for the last two days. I will be posting "catch-up" pieces as soon as possible. I can't wait to get back to the easel, but I have finally resigned myself to resting up so that I can get back to work quickly. There's no torture like sitting around the studio staring at blank canvas that you can't paint on. :-(

twilight through trees

I love the way the sky and mountains peek through the tree limbs like little jewels. It is quite enjoyable to experiment with images that I wouldn't necessarily attempt on larger canvases. I particularly like this one, and have already started thinking about a strategy for working on it on a larger scale.

mountaintop study

Apologies for the late post today...I seem to have pulled some muscles in my shoulder and after last night's drawing class I was simply in too much pain to paint. I am still captivated by imagery from our weekend in North Carolina. This is from a spot that I painted in the morning looking to the west. I can still close my eyes and see the rows of mountains receding in the distance.

dogwood flowers

On our way home from North Carolina, we marveled that we had not seen a drop of rain-- a rare thing in the Smoky Mountains. It was probably the first time I have been there that we had sunny skies the entire time. Of course, we had gentle spring showers all day here in Tennessee, the kind of warm rain that makes the pale green of early spring glow on the trees and ground. I was surprised to see that even in a few short days, the dogwoods had bloomed. We are fortunate to have both a pink and a white dogwood tree in a little grove beside the house. In our absence, spring arrived.

up the mountain

We ended up camping on the mountaintop Sunday night. I spotted this incredible place on the way up to the top and Lee was kind enough to stop the truck long enough for me to shoot here. This early in the spring, the green lichens on the trees almost glow against the dark ground. When we reached the top, Derek spotted a black bear running throught the woods ahead of us. It was my first sighting of an adult bear and his first bear sighting ever! That, combined with steaks cooked on the campfire, coyotes howling in the distance, and mountains stretching out in the moonlight, made for a magical night.

top of the world

There is something so deeply moving about standing at a high point, rising above the concerns and trappings of life, and viewing the world from a different perspective. When I was in Egypt I watched the sunrise from a point such as this, and it was one of those experiences that almost warps time...that hour when I normally would have been asleep or doing something equally mundane is forever burned into my memory as a significant event, lived in soul-time. Any time spent on a mountaintop has the same effect on me. We "climbed" to the top of this one in Lee's 4Runner (the plein-air monster, as he just nicknamed it), and I could not stop giggling as we approached the top, giddy with each new view of blue mountains reaching into other states. Tonight we will sleep there, and watch the sun rise on the world in the morning.

twilight path

We spent yesterday afternoon on a mountaintop near Lee's place in Big Pine. While I painted, "the boys" took walks and explored the ridge. I had a hard time deciding what to paint, since there were far-reaching views in all directions. I finally put down the brushes and went off to try to catch up to them, but became preoccupied with the silence and solitude of the path, and I ended up alone at the top of the mountain, watching the sun set.

french broad crossing

This weekend we are visiting our friend Lee in North Carolina, a little much-needed time in the mountains. We crossed over the French Broad River at dusk tonight on our way here, and paused to take in the view. Most often when we travel here, we seem to get to the mountains after dark, but we were fortunate to witness the golden hour in the midst of still-bare mountainsides and winding streams. Looking forward to a beautiful next few days. As always when I am camping or in a remote area, I may not be able to post each day, but will post the pieces as soon as possible.