vendredi, janvier 27, 2006

Tile 13

A departure. Watercolor on canvas, sealed with acrylic. Posted by Picasa

Tile 12

A tile born of a visual memory of last year's spring, of fields of yellow daffodils. Along the road to Lavaldieu, not far from here, a fold in the hills of the dry garrigue turns yellow with daffodils every March. Posted by Picasa

Tile 11

On the Canal du Midi. Posted by Picasa

Tile 10 - Red Sky

Tile 10 again, in another possible orientation. Red sky is more disturbing than red grass. A blood-red sunset over a pine forest? A forest fire? Posted by Picasa

Tile 10 - Red Grasses

A field of grasses in deep red and brown, a high horizon, no sky visible. Posted by Picasa

Tile 9

Another tile on linen. The weave of linen is tactile, substantial. I don't like to cover it completely. Here the paint is scumbled onto the canvas; the fabric is more than simply a support. Posted by Picasa

Tile 8

Many tiles being added today. The camera lags behind the painting, and downloading to the computer adds yet another lag. Posted by Picasa

mardi, janvier 24, 2006

Tile 7

As I photo this painting, download it to my computer and upload it to the world, there is much activity outside my studio door. My studio opens onto a walled garden, at the back of which is a large, unruly fig tree. It is being brought to order by two hardy men with chain saws, pruning shears and ladders. The tree was so heavy with fruit last summer that a large central branch severed itself from the trunk. These two fellows came and administered first aid back then and promised, in the best "Don't call us, we'll call you" style, to return in January to do a proper pruning. To our amazement, they called last night and here they were at 8 this morning. Soon Figgy will be in better shape, brought to order in the best French pruning tradition - which is severe indeed. Posted by Picasa

vendredi, janvier 20, 2006

Tile 6

Sunrise? Maybe. The viewer is free to interpret it as such. But that slim patch of yellow is a visual rather than an intellectual or rational choice. The blue green to its right is born of similar parentage.
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jeudi, janvier 19, 2006

Tile 5

Painting of a scene in the nearby village of Granes. The ditch cutting through this field gives a lovely diagonal, leading the eye through the painting. Posted by Picasa

mercredi, janvier 18, 2006

Tile 4

Minimalist indeed. A few swaths of paint against the warm background of the linen. I like that so little can suggest a whole landscape, the paint on the canvas taking advantage of the expectations in the viewer's eye and mind.
More tiles to come - yesterday I bought another 24 of these tiny canvases. And more paint - not that these are eating into my paint supply very rapidly. Especially ones like this!
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lundi, janvier 16, 2006

Tile 3 - Printemps

The colors of spring! Soon it will be spring here; when I was playing with my horse a few days ago there were bees buzzing about. The grass is still green, the daylilies are peeking up through the ground. A few days ago I thought to myself that soon there would be jonquils in the stores, and today - there they were at our supermarket, the InterMarché. Yay!

This morning, though, the temperature was 29F. Not spring quite yet. Posted by Picasa

dimanche, janvier 15, 2006

Tile 2

Second in the series of tiles, this painting is just a horizon, the sky and the earth having only supporting roles. This was done on a canvas that had been smeared with modeling paste in preparation for painting. I like the unexpected effects that can result. I also like the fact that this surface echoes the stone surfaces of the tiles I love so much. The painting is perhaps merely an excuse to spend time looking at this surface.

samedi, janvier 14, 2006

100 Tiles - the beginning

I recently bought some tiny canvases - something drew me to them, making me throw many packages of them into my carry basket at the new art supply store. Yesterday I started painting on them and suddenly realized that they are the same size as tiles. I've been fascinated by the tiles I see here - especially the ones with rough, irregular surfaces. An image drifts into my mind of a row of almost luminous orangey ochre tiles in Pete and Clare's kitchen.

Painting on these tiny canvases is like making my own tiles. I will paint 100 of them, and show them all together. I'm starting with landscapes, and will probably end with them as well. Here is the first one - called "Approaching Storm"".