The Fat Lady Sang The Sweetest Song

"Take a load off Annie. Ice those knees. Honey,You're done."


At two fifteen AM, Wednesday,September 15th, 2010, with my clothes permanently speckled, the studio a shambles, the weight is right, the color and line is strong and the composition is balanced. Photographing the painting in color as usual, I converted it to black and white to check my work. It passed the test.The woods look like the woods I know. I was happy with The Summer After at last and totally drained.


I know I've drummed it to death, but this painting,started on May 17th and concluded yesterday, was a four month journey. My painting process is quite a trying one--a series of starts and stops and starts again. One day it was finished. The next day, no. It aggravated me to think of those artists I so admire, who just sit down and systematically paint a picture--rough in the drawing, lay down the midtones, then the darks, then the lights and finally the highlights, and it's done. I'd like to be one of them. Instead I have this need to build up color upon color, working out the palette as I go until the surface of the canvas is obliterated. The colors and lines play peek-a-boo with one another as I continue to draw, correct and draw again, splash,pour and swipe till the forms and composition satisfy. As a painter, I'm totally intuitive. As a designer of interior spaces, quite the opposite--complete plans, thorough spec sheets before one hammer is lifted. No wonder Summer drove me crazy. When I paint, I'm a whole different person. I have no idea how things are going to turn out.

And the odd thing is: the painting turned out to be the painting I set out to paint in the first place-- the back lighted, dark shady glen with bright wild flowers that caught the eye of my camera in 2009. What a trip!