Baseball, Reimagined


Going out painting is like what we did as kids, only then we were going out to play games like baseball. With all the games we played we used our minds as well as our bodies. Thinking up fun things to fill our time that usually got us in trouble or imagining ourselves as Micky Mantle, and winning the 7th game of the World Series is how we spent our summers.  Now we get in our cars and go out looking for what will win the World Series of masterpieces.

It is a game, first the running of the bases, with “home plate” being the scene for the day. We set up our easels and lay out our design (bases) and then our paints,  as we survey the scene for dropping in that “pop fly” (which is important), bring all our teachings to the game and set about capturing what we see and feel. Excitement is our strength. We swing our brushes aiming for the fence with every stroke. The excitement builds as Prussian Blue surrounds white summer clouds for a double, then bunt with sap green, moving our painting forward as we lay out the grassy carpets of tender shoots of tasty morsels for the cows we plan to put in our little masterpieces.  Dandelions and other wild flowers add to the scene, and there is the  joy of playing the game of plein air painting.

It's the joy of being a kid again that attracts so many to plein air painting. The warm breeze, the shadows from the clouds drifting across the sky. Bright colors are our toys now as we lay out the scene. With each decision our pleasure increases making painting both exciting and relaxing.                                                                                                                                       

Art Is Our Morning Sun On A Rainy Day


Art lifts our souls and lightens our load as we move through life. Art is our morning sun on a rainy day, it is the gentle rain that washes our stress away. Art appears in many forms, a child dancing in a mud puddle and a ballerina flying gracefully through the air. A gardener's living painting, ever changing as the seasons move on. The twisted vines, with their holdouts of yellow and gold, appealing to another form of artist. 

Art is there for those who see. Painters and poets, armed with romance and souls, paint pictures to lift others up to see the parade passing by. Rich and poor can enjoy the arts. The chalk drawings of a child can warm the hearts of both the homeless and those heading home. I pray my art is equal to those sidewalk drawings that lift the sprits of those stepping over them. Art has carried me through life both with the creative process and experiencing the work of others. Friends I have never met raise my spirits every day, fill my life with riches through their art. Picasso and Michelangelo, giants who's art defines man, stand alongside unnamed persons who drew on cave walls 50 thousand years ago. I hope to stand with these greats some day, till then I do my best to carry on with lifting spirits.