It has been a month of morning exercises, a month only, And how that first painting, that bunny, has paved the way For my lessons: Look for the subtle under-colors, that give the whole form, The edge that compliments the line, lost and not, and how The light falls. Do the active thing, consider discipline, let these invite Joy, encourage purpose. Allow solitude its healing graces, And remember love.
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.
I will write in red, for my dear, love; who never saw red, not in ink, not in ire.
In 2010, the cold went beyond ten decades, was a century mark of hard winter through the mid-atlantic. For one small household banked by an Eastern Shore river this winter was epochal.
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