Two New Diagional Misson Paintings.

Posting two of my newest little mission paintings. They are 12 x 12 and sell rapidly because of the diagonal layout.

Sun-drenched Mission

Under Rosy Sky

I have this superstition about painting crosses in my paintings. There are never two in a mission picture. This can be difficult if I try to stay with a faithful rendition of the church. Fortunately independent crosses in front of the church are a long standing tradition allowing three crosses in each of these paintings.

But I developed the shadow of the cross on the wall of each mission to be a fourth cross. I see this as moving beyond the crucifixion. I am not very religious but I am very superstitious as were many of the early attendees of these missions.

Evening Song

Evening Song
20 x 24 Mixed Media on Canvas

This is the painting I finished today. It is of the Manzano Mission I have painted before but in a much smaller format. I once painted all my canyons large and all my churches small. But on a lark I painted a small canyon picture and a large church picture and both of them have sold.

I am working on five new paintings and this was the first completed. I hope to have at least two more done tomorrow. And the last two on Friday. Then I have to dedicate the next three days to making frames for four of them and two other paintings that need framed. This is all for the Music From Angel Fire Reception at Artspace Gallery on Thursday.

I have ideas for another two paintings but they will have to wait until after the reception on the 27th. Besides which I need more stretcher bars for the two new ones.

Poetic Journey for Wednesday

Due to schedules and economics I have not done much roaming from home base of late. Sometimes we just wander in our minds. Mine has been roving about quite a bit so when I found this poem it called to me. I love the line " A wind's in the heart of me."

A Wanderer's Song

A WIND'S in the heart of me, a fire's in my heels,
I am tired of brick and stone and rumbling wagon-wheels;
I hunger for the sea's edge, the limit of the land,
Where the wild old Atlantic is shouting on the sand.

Oh I'll be going, leaving the noises of the street,
To where a lifting foresail-foot is yanking at the sheet;
To a windy, tossing anchorage where yawls and ketches ride,
Oh I'l be going, going, until I meet the tide.

And first I'll hear the sea-wind, the mewing of the gulls,
The clucking, sucking of the sea about the rusty hulls,
The songs at the capstan at the hooker warping out,
And then the heart of me'll know I'm there or thereabout.

Oh I am sick of brick and stone, the heart of me is sick,
For windy green, unquiet sea, the realm of Moby Dick;
And I'll be going, going, from the roaring of the wheels,
For a wind's in the heart of me, a fire's in my heels.

John Masefield

There is noting concrete about Wednesday. Sometimes the poetic journey through blogland begins on Tuesday. I have added contributors through Friday. Nothing Holy about Friday but after that it seems to belong to the next week. Just leave a comment here or post your url on Profiles or Facebook for me. Sorry I do not Multiply but I will link in for a poem posted there.

Kwika on Under the Cabbages

Bekkieann on My So Called Life

NicholasV on Intelliblog

Aussie Lynn Downunder

Heather on Never on Sunday

In Search of Inspiration

My friend Bee blogged about finally finding her muse again. Yes, mine has been missing too. What muse does not go on vacation in August? I have worked hard at painting in spurts for three shows; two fairs and an exhibition. Have recently been informed that all three paintings submitted to the exhibition have been accepted. So maybe I am resting on my laurels.

Or just vacationing with my sister who has visited with her jeep and camera and taken me out of my studio. To continue to produce one does have to refresh the spirit. And there is evidence in the studio that the spirit has been renewed. Yesterday, while cleaning it up and rearranging (always a prelude to serious work), I began thinking of new subjects to paint and old subjects to revisit. There is a growing stack of sketches, photographs and tracings on the work table for consideration.

I began toying with the idea of painting flowers. Yes, I know, not my stock in trade. But I recently got some stretcher bars for doing little studies. When you are stretching your own canvas it makes sense to have available all sizes to use those small pieces of canvas you are left with. I figured the 8x8's and 10x10's would make nice little Christmas sales. And why not paint flowers on them. It would at least be a fun exercise. Stepping out of my box as it were.

I have painted flowers in the past. I have two on watercolor paper matted and framed an hanging on my wall by the computer: Dogwoods and Hibiscus. I love them. And I do flowers quite well really. It is just that they are the "venue" as it were of other artists in the area. But then they do from time to time do canyons and churches. So why cannot I do a flower or two or three? Besides I am sort of wanting to see if I can bring something new to flowers.

I believe for an artist to remain creative they must play from time to time. Not always in the studio, but yes, sometimes even there.

Poetic Wednesday Again Already?

My sister has been here and we have been busy playing with her jeep and our cameras. I have noticed I am even behind on blogging. So I am letting my friend Heatherbelle lead off this week's Poetic Journey.

Never on Sunday

The Adventures of Dangerous Meredith

Intelliblog

For my contribution to this poetic Wednesday I give you a familiar poem by Poe.

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

Friday Foto and Story

This photo was taken just over 2 years ago and just after I had kicked off the contractor and begun to do my own work on my studio. It is in that category of you have come a long way baby! And this has been one of those weeks where I have been reminded of that again and again.

Have not heard from lawyers or the contractor from hell and so that is still an open issue but I am of the no news is good news take on this. But I have at last completed my almost four years of US debtor's prison with a completion of my Chapter 13 three months early. Supposedly this will repair my credit rating. I don't know that I will ever do credit cards again though I tell myself the only reason they were a problem was because of the ski accident and the 2 1/2 years of medical treatments and not being able to work even with my own mask business.

Now the studio is complete, my debts are settled, the van is fixed and the art studio trail is open. So I think it will be happier days in the very near future.

Poetic Wednesday

Opening the Poetry lounge early because my New Zealand friend has her post ready.

Kwiki

My So-Called Life

Never on Sunday

Intelliblog

Shouting at Street Lights

My hope is before Wednesday I have a poem of my own to post here to. In the mean time if you have a post on some blog platform leave me a comment here or on Profiles or in Facebook and I will link it in. This week we will let the links go first.

I have had less than a poetic day with my van breaking down and it requires a new fuel pump which is no cheap fix even if it is a relatively regular maintenance item on older cars. I think with some distance I will see at least the humor if not the poetry in the day. And today I jotted down the following humorous look at the van and the mechanic.

Tell me how

I had this discussion months ago
With the Blizzard Lizard about breaking down --
The Blizzard Lizard?
That's my van
It's green and 4-wheel drive
There is this gecko on television.

Surely you name your cars?
My first was Slew Foot Sue
But I digress
I said to the Blizzard Lizard in November
No major breakdowns till I have money.

No worries all through winter
The trusty vehicle took me to all my fairs come summer
Monday it broke
Monday I had money
But the question is
How did it know?

I certainly never mentioned it in the car
Nor did I have a detailed discussion with my mechanic
About just what I could afford
So how come his and my figures match?
How did the Blizzard Lizard know
It was safe to break down?

I thought I was saving that money for winter
But quite obviously not.
The Blizzard Lizard had its own plans
Thursday it will be back all repaired
For another winter with no worries.

Time for another talk with my van
Keep it together, ole sport
Until I can gather more funds
But please for now
Just tell me how
You knew I could afford to repair you?

(c) Jacqui Binford-Bell