This painting speaks on so many levels for me. First of all, I am returning to my easel and all things related, such as this blog. The day before I did this painting we were in the path of massive snow storm mixed with sleet, snow and lastly, a glaze of ice.
The three years leading up to this day were turbulent in their own right. My fathers battle with MRSA and decline in health brought him to our home where I cared for him as well as my mother, who had her own health and mobility challenges. Over the past year and a half, they both passed away, eleven months apart.
My parents were my biggest fans – always inspiring and encouraging my passion for art. My mother especially loved it when I set off to go paint plein air. Upon my return, she would look at the paintings, talk about the subject matter and express her joy at being able to share in the experience of being there. Even in her last months and days, she would tell me how bad she felt that I couldn't get away to paint. "I'm taking you away from your painting time," she would say. I didn't feel that way. Time to paint will always be there. My days with my mom would not.
Now there is painting, and time. Time to reflect. Time to observe. Getting back to painting is so restorative. I am comforted in the quiet of being outside with nature.
This particular morning, I came into the kitchen and looked out at the red horse shed in the far pasture. It's usual shabby appearance was transformed with a shimmering blanket of white. The winds had glazed the lower portions of trees that lined the woods. Everything sparkled. I had such a feeling of hope. A promise of healing. A glimmer of light.
I grew up along the Delaware River in Bucks County, PA. My earliest memories are of drawing outside with my sketchbook and it evolved into plein air painting with watercolors. I love capturing scenes that inspire me - many I find along my everyday travels in and around Bucks County.