Bowstring

This painting was in the Longbranch Gallery for 2 1/2 months before someone noticed that I’d forgot to string the bow!  I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me.  Oh well, it’s strung now!

Never better, mad as a hatter,

right as rain, might and main,

hanky panky, hot toddy,

hoity-toity, cold shoulder,

bowled over, rollin clover,

low blow, no soap, hope

against hope, pay the piper,

liar liar pants on fire,

high and dry, shoo-fly pie,

fiddle-faddle, fit as a fiddle,

sultan of swat, muskrat

ramble, fat and sassy,

flimflam, happy as a clamj,

cat’s pajamas, bee’s knees,

peas in a pod, pleased as punch,

pretty as a picture, nothing much,

lift the latch, double Dutch

helter-skelter, hurdy-gurdy,

early-bird, feathered friend,

dumb cluck, buck up,

shilly-shally, willy-nilly,

roly-poly, holy moly,

loose lips sink ships,

spitting image, nip in the air,

hale and hearty, part and parcel,

upsy-daisy, lazy days,

maybe baby, up to snuff,

flibertigibbet, honky-tonk,

spic and span, handyman,

cool as a cucumber, blue moon,

high as a kite, night and noon,

love me or leave me, seventh heaven,

up and about, over and out.

Sharon Bryan

Sweater Weather:

A Lovc Song to Language

Breakfast

I don’t even want to think about how much time I spent on the border all told.  It’s enough that I always enjoy a border, once it’s there.  I will probably continue to do them, at whatever sacrifice of time.  It’s hanging now in a show at the Iowa County Courthouse in Dodgeville, 2nd floor.

Prefatory Statement:   I’m on a quest to own all of Dick Francis’ novels on audio CD, so that’s why you will see so many of them reread this year.  I’d rather listen to Tony Britton or Simon Prebble than anyone else on earth.  I have read all these novels before, some of them at least twice before, but I’m listening as I’m painting and Dick Francis always bears listening to again.

Detail from Hazelnut Torte with Beverly of Graustark

Cleopatra, a Life by Stacy Schiff — an excellent biography, eschewing the stereotype of Cleopatra as a vamp and emphasizing her political shrewdness and determination, not to mention the ruthlessness that characterized all the Macedonian rulers of the Hellenistic Age.

Proof by Dick Francis — In our family Dick Francis novels are reread many times as tried and true entertainment

Flying Finish by Dick Francis — possibly the most exciting ending of all his books

The Beacon at Alexandria by Gillian Bradshaw — at least my fourth reread, the perfect historical novel

Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson — I loved this book!  I loved everything about it: it’s Britishness, it’s humor, it’s decency, it’s funniness!  Highly reommended!

The Sun’s Bride by Gillian Bradshaw — a newer (and shorter)  novel of Bradshaw’s about piracy (seagoing) and the arts in the Hellenistic world.  As usual, I was rooting for Bradshaw’s characters and enjoying historical fiction that is entirely palatable, not full of gratuitous violence or a bleak estimation of human nature.

I Think I Love You by Allison Pearson — by the author if I Don’t Know How She Does It, recently made into a movie, this one was equally good; about a girl who wins a contest to meet David Cassidy, but doesn’t find out for 24 years.  As in the first novel, the reader is privy to virtually all the character’s thoughts and feelings, and the plot sort of grows out of it.  I enjoyed it.

1434 by Gavin Menzies — how the Chinese jumpstarted the Italian Renaissance; very eye-opening and completely fascinating!

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain — biographical novel about Ernest Hemingway’s first marriage and their life among the literati in France and the Riviera; paints a very good portrait.  I completely enjoyed it.

Churchill by Paul Johnson — short biography of Winston; his 2nd WW leadership was moving and inspiring.  Winston Churchill painted when he was defeated and depressed, because “you can’t think of anything else when you’re painting.”  I agree that painting is the best remedy for despair.  You really can’t do both at the same time, unless your painting actually generates despair, which it sometimes can.

I Remember Nothing by Nora Ephron — fun, light reading

Lost in Shangri La by Mitchell Zuckoff — true life adventure story about being stranded among head-hunting aborigines in New Guinea.  Great reading!

Out of Character:  Surpising Truths about the Liar, Cheat, Sinner (and Saint) Lurking in All of Us by David DeSteno and Piercarlo Valdesolo — interesting discussion of psychological tests that demonstrate how human nature really works.  The explanation of conscience by evolution sounds fantastical to me though, and I would have preferred not to be bothered with such unconvincing discursions.

An American Heiress by Daisy Goodwin — good read; Portrait of a Lady with a happy ending; doesn’t have the literary elegance or penetration of Henry James or Edith Wharton, but it’s a quality novel.

A Brief History of Anxiety by Patricia Pearson — a very well-written personal memoir, with critical reflections on how anxiety disorders are treated in the US.   I recommend it.

Her Royal Spyness, A Royal Pain, Royal Blood,  and Naughty in Nice by Rhyss Bowen — Geneia and I enjoyed these light mysteries about a destitute, but plucky royal — 32nd from the throne — during the 1930s.

Second Wind by Dick Francis — our favorite travel author; I’ve only read this one once before, so I wasn’t able to quote it verbatim

Trial Run by Dick Francis

Conquistador by Buddy Levy — very good history of the conquest of Mexico by Hernan Cortez.  The narrator was criticized on audible.com for sounding like the Frito Bandito when speaking for Cortez, and I had to admit he did a bit.  I think he was doing “tough soldier” and that just happened to sound like “you know who,” but the narrator does an excellent job of pronouning all the Aztec names and of not losing the listener.  I highly recommend it.

Break In and Bolt by Dick Francis — among my favorites.  I love the relationship between steeplechase jockey, Kit Fielding, and Princess Cassilia, for whom he rides.

Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin — I had to read this again before I saw the movie and I enjoyed it just as much the 2nd time.  Believable characters.

The Greater Journey:  Americans in Paris  by David McCullough — McCullough writes about the Americans whose lives were changed by the culture, education and freedom they found in a Paris residency over the course of the 19th Century; not necessarily the ex-pats most known and associated with Paris.  I found most moving the story of Elihu Washburn, the only diplomat  of a major country to stay in Paris through the Franco-Prussian War, the seige and the terror of the Paris Commune.  He was a brave, compassionate, and unself-sparing man who helped protect as many as he could.  I’m excited to tour his house in Galena, now that I’ve read about him and found him so inspiring.

Devil’s Cub by Georgette Heyer — old favorite from highschool

The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearlsey — enjoyable romantic fiction about time-travel, Cornwall, the Jacobite Cause.  It reminded me very strongly of Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree.   It was fun to find out that Mary Stewart is Kearsley’s favorite author.  We are kindred spirits!

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles — extremely well-written evocation of 1930s New York.  I’m not kidding; this guy’s prose is jaw-dropping!  He’s one of those very few men who can write convincingly in the persona of a woman, like Arthur Golden in Memoirs of a Geisha.

Confessions of a Shopaholic and The Undomestic Goddess by Sophie Kinsella — These books are so much fun and narrators, Emily Gray and Roslyn Landor, are absolutely perfect in their two roles.

Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength by Roy F. Baumeister and John Tierney — not that willpower really had to be rediscovered by us nonpshychologists, but this is very interesting and useful read.  I highly recommend this!

Hannibal by Harold Lamb — very good book I read as an introduction to the 2nd Punic War

Breakfast being revised

As I’ve posted recently, I’m revising old paintings I still have around, improving them without completely repainting them.  Here I am in the process of painting a border around a painting I did in the 90s.  It’s a picture of my daughter and her friend, Callie, eating breakfast in our dining room.  This room (backdrop) has gone through revisions too and the rosemalled Schrank visible in the corner has moved.  Now, I have Scandinavian-looking, built-in cupboards and a window seat at the end of the room.  This painting did not originally have a border.  There was a time when I was painting borders regularly.  They add a storybook quality to a painting and visually augment the framing.  I’ve had a very positive response from viewers.  The thing is, as worthwhile as they are, they add a considerable number of hours to the creation process…(Also see how my studio reflects complete concentration on painting and none on organization — I’m so disciplined!)

Repainting the border

As you can see in the first photograph, I had originally painted the border a light blue with an off-white Celtic Knot design on it.  Then, I decided it was too pale.  I wanted to draw out the primary colors in the painting, like the dark blue trim of the tiles and the red, Scandinavian runner, so I repainted it with a cobalt blue mixture, all the while refining the Celtic knots.  When I’d finished, I decided I still didn’t like it and repainted it a sort of lilac.  I know that doesn’t sound appropriate, but I had done a smaller version of this painting, with the figures in a different position, as a hostess gift for my father’s cousin’s family (Olli Heikkinen)  when we went to Finland in 2000.  We stayed with them in Helskini.  I loved the colors in the border of that one.  See below.

Hostess Gift July 2000

The image of this painting is actually a photograph of a print I made of it before I went to Finland.  The original was painted on an untempered masonite panel, rather than a canvas, so it is smoother and more watercoloresque.  The colors aren’t as brilliant, but I’ve always loved it.   One of the artists who give me positive feelings of coziness and comfort is Carl Larsson, who did many paintings of his family and home in Sweden.  Those paintings have provided inspiration in the decoration of my kitchen and dining room.  Anyway, as you can see, the border is rather lavender or periwinkle, so that is why I went in this direction after the cobalt border.

Here it is in its current manifestation:

Breakfast

Artemis and her Hounds

I’ve been waiting for it to snow in southern Wisconsin, so I could finish this painting, the fourth in my Greek Myth series, of the goddess of the hunt, Artemis.  My huntress has left the brilliant sunlight of Greece for northern climes and the peace of the snowy forest.    Last Sunday I skied in fresh snow on the hills of Governor Dodge State Park, where this landscape is set.  Today, I went skiing in Blue Mounds State Park in very warm weather.   I didn’t need my Norwegian sweater, so Artemis can keep it a while longer.

Here is a poem about the north, written by someone who is also Finnish, and shares my love of the north woods.

Driving at Night

Up north, dashboard lights of the family car

gleam in memory, the radio

plays to itself as I drive

my father plied the highways

while my mother talked, she tried to hide

that low lilst, that Finnish borgue,

in the back seat, my sisters and I

our eyes always tied to the Big Dipper

I watch it still

on summer evenings, as the fireflies stream

above the ditches and moths smack

into the windshield and the wildlife’s

red eyes bore out from the dark forests

we flew by, then scattered like the last  bit of star

light years before.

It’s like a different country, the past

we made wishes on unnamed falling stars

that I’ve forgotten, that maybe were granted

because I wished for love.

Sheila Packa

 Artemis and her Hounds, Oil on Canvas, 22×28, $1200 USD

I didn’t retouch Orpheus and Eurydice, but I did write a sonnet about them:

Orpheus and Eurydice

In myth, a man could claim from death the one

he loved, could find the entrance to the place,

spelunk its spacious, hallways woebegone,

Cerberus quell with serenade, retrace

his steps and charm the beasts, flatter Hades

in his lair with a voice so soulful sweet

and mien so comely, naiads, dryads, ladies

fair, languished ‘bout.  Yet how this feat

resolved in naught is cautionary, the stuff

of tales:  Eurydice lost by a backward glance

as  Orpheus led the way.  It’s like enough

his turning round was nothing but mischance,

but when I think, I’m impelled to query,

“Was her walking behind him necessary?”

NBH

Orpheus and Eurydice

Odysseus and Circe retouched

On Odysseus and Circe, I softened the contrast of the grass against the gravel on the road at the back of the painting.  I touched up the pigs almost all of them and repainted the grass.  Last year, I painted down to the wire for the Artsbuild Show 2011 and submitted the painting still wet.  I wasn’t quite satisfied though and always intended to go back to it.  I also intensified the contrast of the sun shining on Odysseus’ hair, worked on his coat a bit and darkened the frame of the doors.  I didn’t touch Circe.  I still think she’s perfectly lovely, like a French model…..in an American farmhouse.  Go figure!

But it’s myth, right?  So anything can happen.

Circe and Odysseus, Oil on Canvas, 12×24, 12×24, $1200 USD

No Frigate like a Book

In preparation for being the featured artist at Longbranch Gallery (Mineral Point) in December 2011, I retouched some paintings, improving edges, heightening or diminishing contrast, or just changing things that bugged me.  On No Frigate like a Book, I softened the edges of her upper arms, her shoulder on the right, the back of the chair and repainted the shine on her hair.  I also gave the pages of the book a bit of sepia tone, though you can’t tell at all in the picture.  I immediately liked it better, because the areas of greatest contrast and interest were enhanced.  The parts I wanted to draw less attention to, even though they were well lit, like her upper arms, now have softer edges.  It’s a better painting now.

Girl with Pug retouched

On Girl with Pug, again featuring my beloved model, Anna, I softened the shadowed side of her sleeve to make it recede more.  It’s not the way it actually was.  The old, muslin fabric of the blouse became whiter where it doubled at the crease.  In reality, it looked quite bright on the underside of  her arm, but it always bothered me.  So, I changed it.

No Frigate Like a Book, Oil on Canvas, 20×24, $1000 USD

Girl with Pug, Oil on Canvas, 11×14, $425 USD

Sculpted Bark

The second step in making Faux Bois is pressing the concrete mixture into the wire armature.  You can see three steps in the pictures in this Blog entry.  On the right side of the bench above and in the picture below, you’ll see one coat of concrete.

Concrete forced through wire armature

  I began with the supporting legs and the back.

Second coat, beginnings of bark

I didn’t immediately cover the entire bench with concrete, because I wanted to keep it from getting too heavy to lift.  I was working in my garage here in early October, with winter coming on, heating the space with an electric heater, using daylight, when it was available, and reflector lights, when it wasn’t.  The heaviest part of the bench will be the seat, so I left that concrete free for the moment.  After the initial layer of concrete had cured, I began laying on a second coat. You can see a sort of Red Pine look on the right cross-support.  In the top picture, I’ve decided I wanted Ash bark instead.

At this point, I have the entire bench covered in concrete.  It is sitting in a corner of my garage for the time being.  I’m hoping I can arrange a better (read warmer and brighter) place to work on it over the winter, but if I can’t, it will simply live in my garage until spring.

The daughter of my close friends, Josephine and Steve Ristau Hanson, graduated from high school in the spring of 2011.  Jessica is an accomplished young woman, who plays both piano and viola, writes creatively, knits, rows, and is addicted to reading.  She is now attending my (as well as Josie’s and Steve’s) Alma Mater, St. Olaf College in Northfield, MN.  I did this portrait of her as a surprise gift before her Graduation Recital and Dinner on June 18.  It gratified me enormously how much they all liked it.

Here are some actual photos of the occasion

Jessica and her proud parents

The Ristau Clan, Jess Slaek and Marie Pauls

Painting Artemis in Eagle River

I haven’t been blogging in a while, so I’m making posts for this past summer.  In July, I spent a week in Eagle River, WI at My Brother’s Cabin.  It has that name because that’s the way it was always referred to by Matt and his brother, Mike, who co-owned the house and hunting acreage.  I always called it Borusa Stan, which means “‘Possum Lodge” in Croatian.  Fans of Red Green will recognize that name.  On rainy mornings, when the weather wasn’t good for boating or swimming, I set up in the overhang of our garage and began this painting.  I had taken photographs of a trainee of mine at Lands’ End during the past winter, who had that long-legged, gamin beauty I’ve always imagined in Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, or Diana, as the Romans called her.  My Artemis is in a northern clime, hunting on skis, with wolves as her hounds.

Armature with diamond lathe for Faux Bois Bench

I have been planning to make a Faux Bois Bench for my husband Matt’s gravesite since he died in April of 2010.  Last autumn, when I made the Faux Bois Table Base or Stool — it could be used for either purpose — it was a practice effort.  I wanted especially to practice making believable bark with acid stains on sculpted concrete.  This summer I designed a sturdy bench and my welder friend, Gerald, made the armature with rebar.  I then, cut the diamond lathe and wired it on using picture-hanging wire.

Rebar Armature for Faux Bois Bench

This is the armature of rebar that Gerald welded.  It was modified somewhat after this.  The seat was made deeper; a crossbar was inserted in back as in front; and several more diagonal supports were added.

Handsome Is as Handsome Does

Here is another pug painting of mine, and nothing is so true as the caption. I left the Nestle’s wrapper lying out in its “model position” after I’d finished the painting and Pippin could not leave it alone. Fortunately, the chocolate bar had been pulled out.

As I paint lately, I’ve been listening to audio books. For this painting, the book was Lost In Shangri La by Mitchell Zuckoff, the story of a downed WW II plane in the mountainous jungles of New Guinea. A WAC and two soldiers survived the crash and made a harrowing hike, in spite of grave burns and injuries, to the sweet potato field of New Guinean tribesmen who had never before beheld Caucasians and thought they were spirits. The valley was hitherto undiscovered, as late as the 1940s — actually there had been an exploratory expedition earlier, in which one tribesman had been killed by the white men, but it had been relatively unpublicized — and resident tribes were living in permanent strife and cannibalism.

Fortunately, the tribesmen they encountered categorized only two groups, Perpetual and Historic Enemies, on the one hand, and Non-enemies (read Everyone Else), on the other. Since they were unknown, the Americans were accepted as Non-enemies and neither killed nor eaten. It’s the story of courage, comradeship, among the Americans, and generosity and humor on the part of the Guineans. For example, the Guinean men all wore penis gourds, without which they never appeared in public — I was listening to the audiobook, without pictures, so I can only imagine. A group of paratroopers, who had landed to provide medical assistance and protection to the survivors had such fascinating complexions and hair, that the Guinean men who’d seen them land, walked up and began touching them on the arms and backs etc, thinking their pale skins were clothing. They were apparently fascinated for hours and kept up the investigation until the Americans had had enough and concluded that the Guineans must think they were women! So, they all took their pants off to prove they were male, thinking this would put a stop to the petting and maintained this state of undress for for a couple of hours. Well, the Guineans were never in any doubt about the paratroopers’ gender, but they were scandalized by their lack of modesty. So here were two groups of people, never able to exchange an intelligible word to each other, each thinking the other group was crazy!  The mystery wasn’t cleared up until years later, when a few surviving individuals, who remembered the spirits who’d descended from sky, were interviewed by the author. The paratroopers never knew what fools they’d appeared to a more modest, if largely naked, culture.
It’s a great story and all true. I highly recommend it.

Handsome is as Handsome Does, 8×10, $350 USD

Finnish Pride Lobster Boat

 My annual trip to Maine.  Here I am heading to Pemaquid Point, having a great lunch with friends, Maria, David and Devi, when I see a lobster boat owned by local Finns!

Last weekend, my friend, Josephine, and I attended the opening of a wonderful new exhibit at the Art Institute of Minneapolis.  Josie has been to Venice not once, but twice, and is going again in March.  Lucky girl!  I have not, so being newly exposed to these colossal, Italian masterpieces was a wonderful new experience…..Well, that’s disingenuous.  It would have been wonderful, even if I’d seen them 100 times.

Diana and Actaeon by Titian

Titian’s Diana and Actaeon shows the hapless hunter stumbling upon the Greek Goddess of the Hunt, originally Artemis, while she is bathing.  Artemis was a free-roaming, athletic (despite appearances in this painting), virgin goddess.  She can be seen at the right of the painting directing a “bone-chilling” gaze (as I heard it described by an art expert on NPR) at Actaeon from over her arm, while her companions reach for their wraps or fail to notice the intruder.  As punishment, Artemis turned Actaeon into a stag, at which point his own hounds attacked him.  In the background of the painting, one can see the scull of a stag and a deerskin hanging over a branch.  The colors are gorgeous, especially the rose-colored, velvety cloth upon which Diana sits.  This color appears and reappears in Titan’s paintings.  I would like to know more about his palette.

Diana and Callisto

Titian’s Diana and Callisto was painted as a companion piece to Diana and Actaeon. In myth, Callisto was Diana’s favorite companion in the hunt.  One day, Zeus saw her and as was his habit, decided to force the acquaintance.  Callisto became pregnant as a result and in this scene, her condition is uncovered.  Diana banishes her from her presense .  (Now, I know I read somewhere that Artemis was an avenger of wronged women, but when the culprit is one’s own father, apparently justice goes awry.)  In the aftermath of this scene, Calliso was turned into a bear by spitefulness of Hera, Zeus’ wife.  Her son was raised by another, but was named Arcas or Bear in Greek, referring to his mother’s fate.  Poor Callisto was eventually on the verge of being speared when she tried to give her son a motherly bear hug.  Zeus came to her rescue, but instead of turning her back into a beautiful woman, turned her into the Arctophylas or Great Bear Constellation, aka Ursa Major and Big Dipper.

Venus Rising from the Sea

Titian’s Venus Rising from the Sea is a simple and elegant subject.  I will make only the observation that Venus is Titian-haired.  The strands she is wringing out have auburn highlights.  So also is the Madonna in the Virgin and Child with St. John the Baptist and an Unidentified Male Saint (surely Joseph).  This is the hair-color for which Titian is famous.  I will only remark that Diana and her girl corps are blond, as are The Venetian Women at their Toilet by Paris Bordone, and Venus in Veronese’ Mars and Venus with Cupid.  The Venetians definitely had a thing for fair hair.

The Virgin and Child with St John the Baptist and an Unidentified Male Saint

There is that beautiful rose color again on the exquisitely painted sleeve.

Mars and Venus with Cupid

The scale and drama of the Diana paintings and especially their wonderful colors made a lasting impression on me.  I have to say though that the Veronese was my favorite painting in person.  (Why is Mars wearing a helmet!  Can you think of anything less conducive to amour? I imagine it is because otherwise he’d look just like any other gentleman from Verona.)   I think it’s because of the beauty of Venus’ skin and the delicacy of her features.  I looked for the best images of these paintings among the many art cards and books for sale in the Gift Shop.  None of them can quite convey how lovely that Veronese painting is.  You should just go see it

The little spaniel too was wonderful.  Diana has a little spaniel in Diana and Callisto and one of these little dogs figures in Titian’s Danae (not in the show)  as well.  I like to think it was Titan’s dog.  If not, they must have been ubiquitous as companions to ladies.

Little Spaniel from Titian's Danae

Little dogs are the perfect defender of the boudoir.  Did you know that on Napolean’s wedding night Josephine’s pug bit him?  Bravo Brutus!

This is a diptich I’ve had in the works for a long time, but have just completed.  It’s a modern take on a story from Homer’s Odyssey, Book IX, where first Odysseus’ men, then Odysseus himself, become guests of an island enchantress.  Beginning with the words of Eurylochos, who reports to his captain, this is Richmond Lattimore’s translation of the adventure:

“We went, O glorious Odysseus, through the growth as you told us, and found a fine house in the glen.  It was in an open place, and put together from stones, well polished.  Someone, goddess or woman, was singing inside in a clear voice as she went up and down her loom, and they called her, and spoke to her, and at once she opened the shining doors, and came out and invited them in, and all in their innocence entered, only I waited for them outside, for I suspected treachery.  Then the whole lot of them vanished away together, nor did one single one come out, though I sat and watched for a long time….”

So he spoke, and I answered again in turn and said to him:  “Eurylochos, you may stay here eating and drinking, even where you are and beside the hollow black ship; only I shall go.  For there is a strong compulsion upon me.”

So I spoke and started up from the ship and the seahore.  But as I went up through the lonely glens, and was coming near to the great house of Circe, skilled in medicines, there as I came up to the house, Hermes, of the golden staff, met me on my way, in the likeness of a young man with beard new grown, which is the most graceful time of young manhood.  He took me by the hand and spoke to me and named me, saying: “Where are you going, unhappy man, all alone, through the hillotops, ignorant of the land-lay, and your friends are here in Circe’s place, in the shape of pigs and holed up…Do you come here meaning to set them free?  I do not think you will get back yourself, but must stay here with the others.  But see, I will find you a way out of your troubles, and save you.  Here, this is a good medicine, take it, and go into Circe’s house; it will give you power against the day of trouble.  And I will tell you all the malevolent guiles of Circe.  She will make you a potion, and put drugs in the food, but she will not even so be able to enchant you, for this good medicine which I give you now will prevent her.  I will tell you the details of what to do.  As soon as Circe with her long wand strikes you, then drawing from beside your thigh your sharp sword, rush forward against Circe, as if you were raging to kill her, and she will be afraid, and invite you to go to bed with her.  Do not then resist and refuse the bed of the goddess, for so she will set free your companions, and care for you also; but bid her swear the great oath of the blessed gods, that she has no other evil hurt that she is devising against you, so she will not make you weak and unmanned, once you are naked.”

Ah, it was a dangerous world out there for Greek men in the Bronze Age.

Odysseus, 12×24, Oil on Canvas

Circe, 12×24, Oil on Canvas

Portrait of the Pug as a Young Dog

I’ve been pulling my hair out over more ambitious projects, so it is a comfort to be able to turn to my little dog and add to my collection of Pug Paintings.

Here is a poem by Sara Teasdale:

Those Who Love

Those who love the most,

Do not talk of their love,

Francesca, Guinevere,

Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,

In the fragrant gardens of heaven

Are silent, or speak if at all

Of fragile, inconsequent things.

And a woman I used to know

Who loved one man from her youth,

Against the strength of the fates

Fighting in somber pride,

Never spoke of this thing,

But hearing his name by chance,

A light would pass over her face. 

I haven’t been able to blog recently, because for some reason I wasn’t able to upload photographs.  This is how the Faux Bois Table Base looked at the Fall Art Tour in October.  The brown was actually a black stain, but due to the unpredictability of how acid stain will react to the composition of the concrete, it came out a rich brown.  I rather like it, but will be adding black, in order to make it look more like oak.