Lap Time

Bituminous nestles in my lap, furry head in the crook of my elbow, his green eyes gazing unblinkingly at me for a minute or two, then closing in trusting sleep. I gaze back, trying to absorb a lifetime's worth of the joy and love I receive from Bituminous, and attempting not to dwell on his increasing age and poor health.

I don't really know how to describe what this cat does for me, but somehow he calms me deep inside, reminds me of some of the basics of my faith (trust lived out in practical, real-life actions), and fills me with a warm, happy feeling.

I try to read my book, normally gripping and hard to set aside, but when Bituminous opens his eyes every few minutes I have to put the book aside and look in my cat's eyes. He's deaf and doesn't understand much English; I'm human and don't speak Cat, but we both speak the language of connection, and whenever those eyes open, we engage in rich communion.

A Morning Track

A Morning Track

Silvery-blue,

the field stretches on and on,

grass blades arcing gracefully

tipped by clear crystal drops.

A breeze brushes my face,

the sun warms my back,

bird song fills the air.

I pause, I breathe, I am…

I scan the distant trees,

searching for two points

to etch a line

in my mind and through the field.

Walking that line, I absorb

the rustling of rodents,

the silk of spider’s web,

the damp of dew.

I walk, I look, I enjoy…

Later, Milo leading,

we retrace my steps,

following the green path

through the dewy field.

Milo pauses, sniffs,

moves ahead with vigor,

excited to find the scent

and lead me along.

He stops, looks back,

a grin on his face,

a glove at his feet.

We have finished the track.

I smile, I laugh, I rejoice!

Sketchbook Fun

I generally paint without doing any preliminary drawing or sketching on my watercolor paper, but I tend to do lots of doodling and sketching at other times, sometimes in a sketchbook, sometimes on whatever paper is at hand. This sketching helps me learn proportions, but even more, it gives me a feel for my subjects, so that I feel like I know them before I try painting them.

Here’s a page from my sketchbook from the last time Stephen and I ate out at our favorite restaurant, Mariner’s on the Hudson. Steve tosses bread in the water so that the ducks, geese, and fish come close for me to sketch or paint them.

Here are some sketches of a Rottie mix I did while chatting on the phone. I later did a watercolor of this dog. Sometimes I sketch with pencil, sometimes ball point pen and occasionally with Japanese ink brushes.

Lost Gosling Adoption

I answered the door to see Emilio, one of the young neighbor boys, with his parents and two brothers close behind. Joe, the father, was carrying something wrapped in a jacket. Emilio excitedly blurted out that they had a baby goose that their cat had separated from his family.

Did I know what to do with it? I didn't really know, but I offered to take the gosling and see if I could find his family wandering around.

Unfortunately the family had disappeared, so I took the gosling to a pond where I thought there might be geese. Sure enough, there was a family of Canada Geese at Rockingham Pond with goslings the same size as our lost gosling.

I carried the gosling in a box toward the goose family, stopping when they started to walk away. Then I let the baby out. He took one look at the goose family in the distance and started toward them.

The family stopped walking away and turned to wait for the gosling to come to them.

The young goslings weren't so sure about the newcomer, but the parents seemed content to have him join their family.

The young'uns quickly accepted the newcomer, and he joined their ranks.

The family turned and left together.

The lost gosling had a new family.

England!

Watercolour painting everyday

Training a shaggy Beardie

Daily walks in the gorgeous countryside

An adorable thatched cottage

Pub meals

Huge breakfasts

Delicious cheeses

Wonderful dinners

Stonehenge

Visiting with old friends and meeting new friends

Seeing the Mall Gallery's Royal Society of Portrait Painters Exhibition

Double-decker buses

Talking to all hours

Laughing at all hours

A magical, wonder-filled, inspiring visit

I can’t even begin to describe the wonder of this time in England. I had high hopes for this week, and it far exceeded my hopes and dreams.

Some of my greatest passions are dog training, art, teaching, and learning, and this week was built around and permeated with all of those. It was a new situation for me to be sharing talents as Jean and I did, with her teaching me her magical way of using watercolour and me training her and Bailey, who are both apt and quick students. Teaching and learning woven together throughout every day, as even our tea breaks were filled with discussion and discovery of the similarities in how we each approach our teaching, even using almost identical metaphors to explain and encourage the learning process.

Here is a sampling of my washes, experiments, and paintings as we progressed through the week, generally following a plan Jean had for helping me learn and grow and loosen up as an artist. Her plan worked, and I am thrilled every time I pick up a paintbrush and look at a white piece of paper.

Quail eggs—the first thing we painted together. I tried to splatter the eggs with a toothbrush and ended up splattering everything BUT the eggs.












Cowslip Washes—not attempting to paint the cowslips but rather just get the feel and color --painting flowers CAN be exciting!















Snowdrops—how to get the whiteness of the snowdrop along with the cold feeling of early spring

Resting Beardie

Happy Wash—a flow of colour to capture movement and light













Sheep

















Duck

(reference photos-- Duck, Sheep, & Beardie by Jean Haines)

Trees

"Can I watch?"

"I have paints too! You can use mine if you want."

Two young neighbors, Emilio and Lukas, joined me at the picnic table as I painted trees this afternoon. I declined their generous offer to use their psychedelic-colored paints, but we chatted about tree shapes and nature journaling while we painted.

Bare branches swayed gracefully in the light breeze, while the sun highlighted twigs and cast shadows on the trunk of the Horse Chestnut. The Black Locust was black and still, branches silhouetted darkly against the blue sky. It always has an eerie, gnarly look, unlike the inviting, life-filled branches of the Horse Chestnut.

I know there's something living in the Locust tree-- the dogs sniff around the base with great interest, but I suspect it's nocturnal, since I rarely even see a squirrel in it. Jonathan once discovered a flying squirrel nest in it, but that was years ago.

The Horse Chestnut is a highway and home to many bird species and squirrels. Right outside my studio window, it brings nature to my side with abundance and constant variety. Right now its buds are swelling larger by the day, preparing to burst into bloom in a couple of weeks.




Here's the squirrel who comes via the Horse Chestnut to my feeder. I did this quick sketch of him with my paper on the windowsill and the squirrel right on the other side of the glass, stopping often to watch me paint him.











As I rinsed my brushes, third-grade Emilio showed me the yellow pollen-laden stamens he had carefully painted on a flower and explained that he hadn't painted the ovary and ovules this time. First-grader Lukas smiled shyly but proudly as he showed me his brilliant tree with orange trunk and green crown. Then they headed home, calling over their shoulders that they would come back to paint with me again after school tomorrow. It was a good plein air painting session.

Sick Day

I have a bad cold and a fever today and haven't been able to get motivated to do much of anything. I've done some dog training, a little reading, and some writing, but haven't felt like my brain is working at peak performance, or anywhere near peak. I spent much of the morning in my rocking chair with Silver purring in my lap-- delightful and soothing.

While sitting there sipping tea, I also sketched whoever stopped by the bird feeders, as well as Silver lying in my lap. Sketching calms me, focuses me, and helps me step more fully into the present moment. In addition, I end up with a record of what I saw on a given date, and I often refer back to previous years' entries to compare with the current season.