In honor of our new community...The very first figurative piece I ever painted, New Terrain, ...still, among my favorites ~
Thank you, +Maude McDonald for the invite. Happy to jump in as I can ~
For those interested.... here is the link to my Posterous art blog where I first posted New Terrain a little over two years ago...There, I share a few words about the inspiration behind this painting ~ http://shellartistree.posterous.com/new-terrain
Dance like no one's watching Because they're probably not. And if they are, assume it is with best and human intentions...The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting.... Dance until you're sweating and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things, down your back like a brook of blessings...
If I recall correctly, this painting was among the first where I had the feeling I was, perhaps, onto something. I remember an extraordinarily rich comment thread that encouraged me to keep exploring the depths. _____________________________________________________________ September 15, 2009
Fingertip Breakthrough ~
Slowly resurfacing…. Clarity comes. A cautious comfort with the beautiful chaos that surrounds me….not so scary really, when you look it in the eye. Reaching up, breaking through...I’m…here… and I’m barely breathing, again. Kiss my fingertips?
I'm Shell...~ It's always wonderful to see some familiar faces when stepping into the room for the first time;) Happy to finally be here...gratitude to +Maude McDonald for the kind invite...thank you:) I am painter and a designer specializing in art licensing for the home decor industry. I love watercolors and I often use ink as well. I am well known for my paintings of trees and abstracted land and seascapes but interested lately, in discovering ways of abstracting the human form. I look forward to sharing a little bit of my figurative work here... Below is a slightly closer shot from a painting that I posted today for #firstfridayartwalk titled, Hand in Hand ~
We are all just fine here.... A tense night with gusty winds/rain but thankfully it seems my beautiful trees are still standing (haven't fully assessed, but from window, all looks ok) Roof still leaking, but we'll deal with that once the rain stops. Power off/on all through late night but is holding now...sure I just jinxed it cause that's how it works;) Thank you to all for your messages through the day/night...we appreciated your concern. Promise, we are fine:) We got lucky here compared to NY and NJ...tons of family/friends up that way...I think of them.
"I wanted to create a new form of art, an art completely irrelevant to the usual theories, an art giving to the soul and the senses at the same time complete delight, where reality and dream, light and sound, movement and rhythm form an exciting unity …" ~ Loie Fuller ( 1862-1928)
Rain on my face but I don't mind. Drawn to them...delicate blossom, soft to the touch. Always slow to bloom but I wait for it, ever patient, knowing they will reward. Their scent, like heaven. Spring has come.
Another moment in time, remembering the saltwater serenade, and how everything shone silver in that light, even my skin. And this morning, that's enough to bring a quiet smile to the lips of this landlocked mermaid ~
Taken last summer on the way to the beach....a long ride that begins near our nation's capital, packed freeways and endless noise... Once over that hellish bridge, you slowly wind your way through the sleepiest Delaware towns....and that's where I stumbled upon this old beauty. I am a car girl...grew up tagging along with Dad to car shows and I know a thing or two about appreciating the lines of an old car...even if it is a little rusty here and there...~
This, my beloved orchid of several years, is in bloom again...she always surprises me. One minute, looking rather lonely with her unassuming flowerless stalk, but then...overnight it seems, she is in brilliant bloom again. It takes my breath....and is a gift, each and every time.
Reshared text: I see you in my dream like a signpost. I switch on the light: you are gone. I see you in my dream like someone I come home to. I put on my glasses: you are gone. The branches of trees gently moved by a breeze are your hand waving "hello, come here!". I find your smile in a cloud and your voice in the rain. You are up in the sky where I see endless blue only. You are the line connecting the stars. I see you in my dream like a signpost. I switch on the light: you are gone.
....Take what you conceal and breathe out through your bones....but speak to my ear in the softest of tones...~
Early morning here and noting +Kershaw Rustomji 's theme, letting it inspire and taking it in a slightly different direction, following the music with one of my favorite Cory Chisel songs...enjoy all, it's a melancholy beauty.
A soul well inspires, best of the heart depth brought high, to be so savored… ~Sean Vessey
My deepest thanks to +Sean Vessey for his beautiful words and for shining a sweet light and a layer of clarity onto this painting which has sat for some time, darkly haunting me….Now, she feels beautifully illuminated.
She was struck by lightning a little over a year ago and never fully recovered. Little by little, her bark began to peel away, her branches brittle...broken. Through each season, I watched her disintegrate before my eyes...
It happened so fast. All that once upon a time majesty became a shredded mound of wood chips within 60 minutes. I couldn't hold back the tears...
i found this small rock over ten years ago, on the north-eastern shore of lake tahoe. i was drawn to it because its shape speaks of its history, each step of formation and reformation. i keep it and love it because having it speaks of where our histories intersected.
last week i was house-sitting for a couple who are family friends. the man was a colleague of my father, before i was even born. (i just learned a story that he was being mistakenly congratulated at the seminary for the birth of his son the day i was born--our family names rhyme.) she was off to illinois for the week, with the grandkids; he, sadly, has been confined by parkinsons and alzheimers (or just plain old, garden variety dementia?) to a nursing home for several years. so part of my responsibility during my stay was to check in on him each day.
he has no mobility, and it's hard to say what he sees or hears or knows or can process. so while it's quite possible that none of this seeped in, i read to him. i read to him from annie dillard's book teaching a stone to talk. it's frustrating to imagine being completely trapped in one's body and mind, day in and day out for years on end, in the confines of some nursing home. it's frustrating to feel trapped in my body and mind, feeling the inner and outer judgement for lacking success, despite relative health and privilege and opportunity. and so i read to us.
"we are here to witness. there is nothing else to do with those mute materials we do not need. until larry teaches his stone to talk, until god changes his mind, or until the pagan gods slip back to their hilltop groves, all we can do with the whole inhuman array is watch it. we can stage our own act on the planet—build our cities on its plains, dam its rivers, plant its topsoils—but our meaningful activity scarcely covers the terrain. we do not use the songbirds, for instance. we do not eat many of them; we cannot befriend them; we cannot persuade them to eat more mosquitoes or plant fewer wee seeds. we can only witness them—whoever they are. if we were not here, they would be songbirds falling in the forest. if we were not here, material events like the passage of seasons would lack even the meager meanings we are able to muster for them. the show would play to an empty house, as do all those falling stars which fall in the daytime. that is why i take walks: to keep an eye on things. and that is why i went to the galapagos islands.”
RESHARE: Very happy to share this one:) If you don't follow +Skinny Artist you should. Drew is a dear friend and very supportive of the artist community on twitter/fb and g+. For the past several years, he has generously and graciously put together a list of 21 Amazing Artists to Watch... He writes beautifully and his list is thoughtful and inspiring. I was honored to be listed in 2011 and so I know a little about how it feels to scroll through and see your name.... it is always lovely to be recognized by your peers.