Saturday, December 17, 2011
After each building session with Tyler, I thought of documenting these imaginary structures (completed with touches of rowdy cowboys, carnivorous dinosaurs and zooming cars) not only for their playfullness and inventiveness but knowing changes were coming: from the immediate swipe of the child's hand and the adult's knowledge of childhood's brevity. I never did take the photographs but the block collection remains.
Yesterday, I traveled to North Andover to Smolak Farm for a painting session. Cold, gusty winds greeted me as I stepped from my car. High on a ridge, I looked out over a beautiful vista; the farm with its pond and grazing Canada geese, the impressive illuminated white barn with its outbuildings, acres of orchards, with dark gentle hills and fair weather clouds as a back drop.
Painting these bucolic scenes is thought of by many as a quaint endeavor... but nothing lasts forever except maybe a painting.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Indoors, I really tried to paint from a colleague's small color photograph: a marsh scene. It wasn't meant to be though. When I returned home, I wiped the canvas panel clean with a rag soaked with turpentine. I then scaped my palette down to the color of bone.
Because... I really wanted to paint out in the Garden of Eden today.
To stand tall among the swirling grasses and embracing trees
To see all the luscious, earthy details, to gather in all with hawkish eyes.
There! On a distant horizon, set upon its arc; an angel
Observes, ponders then lifts a glistening brush
To the canvas made from the most delicate woven threads
of spider webs, friends' fine hairs, spittle and ocean mist
and paints a most glorious new day.
Good bye my gentle friend.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
When the Boston Antiquarian Book and Print Fair comes round, I locate the booth where his prints can be held and the print surface scrutinized for the soft, rich color combinations and mark making. They are modest designs, unually 9"X11", and were often printed using up to seven woodblocks. Simply beautiful! http://www.outdoorpainter.com/history/art-history-gustave-baumann-1881-1971-445.html
If you are ever in Sante Fe, be sure to stop by the Museum of Fine Arts, Museum of New Mexico to check out their extensive Baumann print collection.
My attraction at Goat Hill was the busy tumbling of factory buildings lining the river's edge with a distant bridge and checkered water tower contrasting the quiet, blue shape of the water plane. Of course, the rhythm of the vertical dock pilings in the foreground and the diagonal cutting shoreline and boatyard cranes delighted my eye. The challenge of organizing such a jumble of shapes and line into a dynamic 12"X16" format, invigorated my painting senses into using color spots.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
We need some pines to assuage the darkness
When it blankets the mind,
We need a silvery stream that banks as smoothly
as a plane's wing, and a worn bed of
Needles to pad the rumble that fills the mind,
And a blur or two of a wild thing
That sees and is not seen,
We need these things
Between appointments, after work,
And if we keep them, then someone someday,
Lying down after a walk
And supper, with the fire hole wet down,
The whole night sky set at a particular
Time, without numbers or hours, will cause
A little sound of thanks---a zipper or a snap---
To close round the moment and the thought,
Of whatever good we did.
'Around Us' by Marvin Bell
In loving memory of my brother,
Joseph Jaworski III, who died November 11, 2011
Memorial Donations can be made to the
National Brain Injury Association
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
To the Editor:
Time to put up a parking garage? Things are getting kind of tight out there on the streets of Newburyport, and it's not just the parking.
A group of local plein air painters, known as the Newburyport Ten, were in town to paint scenes of the port city and to talk up their recent show at the Newburyport Art Association with the good people they meet while painting outdoors.
I was one such painter on Green Street to capture the fabulous view of the Mission Oak Grill's church steeple, City Hall, and the waterfront with sailboats afloat on the river.
At 8:40 a.m., I set up my easel and canvas on the street while standing close to the front of my parked car. What a great morning to be slapping oil paint on my canvas while enjoying chats with passers-by. Then, while working on the final strokes, a most unfriendly comment was rudely hurled at me by a man who indignantly strolled by and entered the nearby Green Street Executive Offices building..."With the shortage of parking spaces in this city, I suggest you not be set up there."
As I looked around at the empty parking space ahead of me, another behind me and yet another across the street, I had to wonder what would motivate such a remark. It clearly was not parking that was tight.
Sorry buddy, I got this space.