There is something magic in the air during these last days of January.
Outside the still and silent mornings are replaced with the calls of the wild geese.
The blue of the sky is changing from pale to vivid.
The ice is melting on the rivers and lakes.
And now the water is free to move and flow and reflect its own blue.
I search for color.
Even from the almost discarded peppers from last nights dinner.
Something magical is happening in my studio too. I have been working on my panels that will soon be in a collaborative art show with this person.
These panels are have changed over the last week as if they have a life of their own. Watching the colors change, opaque to transparent is exhillerating.
I work inside and out with my favorite and oldest tools.
Even finding beauty in the one that keeps breaking.
Piles of textures and colors are everywhere.
On my desk, on my worktable, on my other worktable.
Doesn’t every mixed media artist have piles? Do you?
I try temporarily adding things to my panels,
found objects, stitched pieces of paper.
And I wonder should I carve more,
rough up my surface or keep it smooth?
Hide a pressed flower under the wax or attach a piece of stained canvas?
Or maybe not add anything at all?
I can really feel the colors of the landscapes that surround me in my paintings.
The damp, dark earth on the forest floor, the pale fields across the river,
the storms, the cold winds and black nights.
Still I search for more color.
The golden sun sets over the mountains.
And the blue moon rises…
promising me more magic tomorrow.