I'd like to extend my sincerest thanks to everyone who has bid on my online auctions! If you haven't checked them out in a few days, I have added several more original paintings to my auction site, with subjects ranging from beach to farm to garden. I plan to wrap up this online sale in a couple of weeks, so if you have been planning to bid on one of these paintings now is the time. Here's what's currently on the auction block:
Paintings of France, Italy, and Beyond ©Jennifer E Young
Change is in the air. Nothing seems to change as fast in spring as the appearance of blooms on fruit trees. One minute they are ablaze with blooms, and the next they are leafing out. Here's a little ditty I did yesterday morning right from my own garden. Mine is largely a late spring/summer garden, but my neighbor shares a little early spring splendor from across the street:
It used to be really spectacular, almost cotton-ball like. Then a year or two ago a huge chunk either blew off in astorm or it got struck by lightening. The top was split in two and I was so sad because I had always meant to paint it at this time of year and something always seemed to pop up to prevent me from getting to it before it leafed out. Any way, thankfully, it survived. And in spite of yet another very windy morning, I managed to get it down.
Yesterday I woke up to sunshine and blue skies. I had a sitter lined up to watch my daughter so it looked like a plein air painting kind of day. I was stoked. Fast forward to 9 a.m.ish at Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, and me freezing my tuccus off trying to paint in gale-force winds. My first plein air of the season did not go well. Not only was it looking pretty dark and muddied, but at one point it landed face down in the dirt. In all honesty, it wasn't even worth it to pick off the debris. In fact the mulch may have improved it a little bit! "Well," I thought, "there's always this afternoon". Except there wasn't. My sitter called to cancel which meant I needed to close up shop. I felt pretty dejected. I arrived at preschool ready to assume Mommy duty as per usual. But as luck would have it my daughter and her BFF had conspired to arrange a play date at said BFF's house.
What a lucky break! I'd been granted a 2 hour reprieve, and I was not going to waste it. After dropping my daughter at her friend's house, I peeled away, tires screeching (kidding) and headed for home to get my gear. As I was pulling up to park, these forsythia caught my eye:
Though the wind whipped up around me and I was still pretty chilled, the forsythia were beginning to take on a warm glow as the sun prepared itself for its inevitable descent behind the rooftops.
Two more days out of school this week due to snow, so I've had more wintry reference material at my disposal. I think after this much time indoors we are all going a little stir crazy, and things can be, well, crazy with an active preschooler, from the time when my little angel wakes in the morning, until she lays her exhausted little head on the pillow once more at night. But since I am almost always the first person awake in the house in the mornings, there are a few moments in the wee hours where I get to contemplate just how peaceful and beautiful the snow fall really is. There are no plows or tracks anywhere yet and the whole street is blanketed with pristine snow.
This is the view from our upstairs window, looking down our street and out over the rooftops. I've noted it a few times after it has snowed, and I always say to myself, "I really need to try painting that". So I finally did. There was no brilliant sunshine yet so the value range is not great, which made me enjoy the shapes and angles of the composition even more.
I painted this little nocturne from my screened porch during a recent full moon.
This is my neighbor's house. I see this house every morning when I pour my coffee, and every evening in the milder seasons when I sit out on the porch after putting my daughter to bed. There's nothing particularly fancy about this house. It's one of many classic American four squares we have in the neighborhood. But I like it's austerity. You can't really tell in this painting but it's white stucco. I love the light that shines on it in the morning, too. The soft glow of the morning sun gives it a kind of weathered luster.
I wasn't sure if I would post this piece, as the composition is so dead on and simple. I actually imagined I would zoom out a bit more on this composition, but just having a small shop light on my work space, I had to work very close in to see what the heck I was doing. That's the way with nocturnes; you never truly know what you're going to get until you bring it into the light of day! Nevertheless, it's grown on me, so I decided to share it here.
p.s. Almost finished with the large painting of the Hatteras Dunes. Progress shots and (hopefully) the final to come soon.