Pink sky this evening with an ember sun, Corn is down and fields replanted In winter wheat. Have spent the last few days framing, Packing, doing last minute things to two years worth of paintings. The car is full, in two days will be off, again, This time to fill the front galleries with my work.
In this is the hour of rockwell's light Slanting golden across the tree tops, There I look Past the colors deepening into perfect, Feeling the hint of chill that echoes ever The soul's sadness. No longer overwhelming, only a constant Tinge of sorrow, deeply rooted, haunting as The cry of geese.
WWT, because need time to wonder wtf happened. To wonder what ever is next, wonder will that happen, And wonder how? To wonder who ever will believe in me, wonder on beauty, Wonder on good and colors and where to go. Still in Widow Wondering Time
A week of learning new painting skills to use when back In my own studio. A week on an island edge, a place totally New and different. I have been moving and doing a lot and do realize, all Has been turning to seek what is now my life alone to hold New and different.
The Studio at Line's End Farm is where I paint and try to find some joy again, and some equilibrium, not simple these days. One weblog records thoughts, ideas, methods and mixtures, palettes, observations, actually anything that intrigues me concerning my painting and working in the studio. Another observes only the horse in paintings that I find influential. The last are done for my sanity. All are my opinion only, open to other suggestions.