Fluid and heavy body acrylics on 10” x 10” canvas
Sky, Variation 1 - Dreams (2024)
This painting has become such a friend. I painted it this summer over a period of a few weeks. The first washes were done in my studio and it was completed on a family trip to Mt. Hermon, located in the Santa Cruz Mountains.
There is nothing like telling your family they need to pack light for a week away because “Mom needs to bring her art stuff,” including an easel and many bulky canvases. Nowadays, they just chuckle… and pack light.
This particular trip was on the heels of our trip to India, and, amidst all of the wonderful family shenanigans we had planned, I was determined to get some time alone in the forest with my paints... and. just. breathe.
The conception of Sky, Variation 1: Dreams (“Dreams”) was both a variation within, and very much a departure from, the weightiness of my Grief Series, which had been consuming my head- and heart-space for many months prior. In some ways, they are very much related, especially in terms of my process and improvisatory approach — but after setting up my easel and paints at the dead end of a forested road, with a colorfully washed canvas and a curious gang of turkeys loitering about, I found myself released into a refreshingly playful space where I felt free to explore textures and colors that convey the freedom, depth, and complexity of an open sky. It was great fun.
It brings to mind the complexities in one’s life that others may never know or have the presence of mind to try to understand. But if we pause for a moment in our busy lives to really listen to someone else, to look deeper, there are a million shades and textures in all of our lives — evidence of more. Evidence of bumps, bruises, joys, triumphs, failures and, best of all, dreams… all needing a space to simply be, without danger of judgement or problem solving. A place simply to be safe and held, and if possible, understood.
In many ways, these thoughts surrounding complexity walk with me through each painting I create – but what I enjoyed so much about the making of Dreams was the act of freely playing on the whimsical side of these complexities… where it is just as much grown-up — and necessary — to release oneself to dream and wander, to experience joy in a simple summers’ day, or bewildered amusement at curious turkeys crowding a canvas — as it is to hold the inner tension of busy days, lonely friendships, or unseen burdens. It’s all there in the painting (as in life). And, as in life, what one sees or believes about their surroundings is determined by where (and whether) one fixates their gaze.
I’m grateful that the making of Dreams allowed me to make space for this playful exploration, and that it has already gone to a loving home. Creating Dreams was like a walk in a fresh stream. Friends, I truly hope you enjoy this work (and its accompanying Spotify mixtape!), and that it brings playful refreshment.
Keep an eye out for prints -- they're coming!
Finally, please enjoy more photos of my day outdoors. I note particularly that I'm notorious for forgetting to plan an exit strategy. Naturally, after putting very fluffy, wet white clouds down as my final step, and feeling my fatigue, I belatedly realised I needed to get this wet painting back to the cabin on a hot dusty day... without picking up dust or getting paint on our brand new car. The solution was barrier canvas down, windows up, and everything else securely stored. It all worked out, but I did have one more good laugh.
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