Crow in the Mist New oil painting

“Crow in the mist” by Hilary J. England, 12” x 16” oil on canvas 

I was out walking along in the cold damp fog the day before the big snow, and I came upon this solitary crow sitting quietly on the railing — this bird looked so curious and peaceful, I was curious about it and watched it for a bit before it flew off.  I had been feeling very disengaged lately, with the solitude and isolation of the past 9 months starting to creep into my psyche.  I’m a solitary person by nature, but the rest of the world being solitary for so long is disconcerting after a while, even to solitary people like me.  

Then I saw this crow — large, calm and peaceful, just on the rails ahead of me.  I stopped a little distance from it, not wanting to disturb it.  The bird sat very quietly, almost contemplatively, in the heavy mist of the day.  It made me think of how so many other creatures endure the solitude of their own existences as well — and how outside of the kingdom of humans, that doesn’t seem to be an unusual thing.  I thought, if the crow can sit at peace by itself, for long stretches of time, so can I as a human.  That thought gave me a measure of peace as I walked along, after the bird had flown to it’s unknown destination.  

So, I went back to the quiet of my studio and thought of this bird, and remembered the feel of the fog, and the mist that gently would touch my skin, and just the quiet peace of that moment in the day, and created this painting.

~enjoy

“Crow in the mist” oil on canvas, 12” x 16” 

Landscape series

I have been creating a series of landscapes — oil paintings on wooden panels — inspired by my summer in the South — but also by the continued “lockdown” or whatever we are calling it these days...the isolation, the impingement, the confusion, and the passage of the old and familiar into something new and not altogether welcome.  

Here are the new additions to this landscape collections:

“Pink roof and wildflowers” Oil on wooden panel - 18” x 18”

“A whisper in time” Oil on wooden panel, 18” x 18”

“Road to the unknown” Oil on wooden panel, 18” x 18”

There will be at least another 7 paintings in this series, apart from these and the earlier painting recreated from my time in Tennessee.

These artworks are my way of sorting through this transition we are all going through this year, 2020, where so much has changed, and so much unhappiness was inflicted on us.  I feel my response is to reflect beauty through the challenging days we are in, and to cling to what is truthful and lovely.

Carry on- Beginning Life in Lockdown

“Study of dramatic back lighting” oil on wooden panel, 16” x 16”

Strange Times

Beginning Life in Pandemic Lockdown

Life in the lockdown is largely as it was for me before -- wake up, do some work, work out, studio time/plein air time, family time, meals...rinse, repeat.  But, there is a certain odd feeling about everything now -- a feeling of heaviness and uncertainty hangs above everything -- as if you are waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I walked out to the market the other day -- it was right after the lockdown began.  There was such a strange energy in the air -- a sense of foreboding and panic.  The streets were empty.  Here and there, a person hurried by -- head down, fearful.  It felt surreal -- as if I would hear nuclear warning sirens go off in the distance.  The feeling was not a pleasant one.

Just two nights before -- we had celebrated the "end of the world as we know it" at our local restaurant.  That afternoon, my son came over and said, "Do you see what's going on?" To be honest, I hadn't been paying much attention.  My sister had called me from Philadelphia, fuming, saying, "The crazy people have bought up all the milk, bread, and toilet paper!" I was seriously confused.  I said, "Are we going to have a snowstorm?" She laughed and said, "No! It's over the virus!"  What? What virus? That's about how much I was paying attention to that! But now, as he and I sat watching the developing events on the news, with alarm -- the runs on toilet paper and food, the hysteria, the States talking about quarantines, my son said to me, "Well, it seems that the world is going to end soon.  Let's go out to dinner and celebrate our life as it is, for one last time-- my treat!" And so we went.

We met up with my one daughter and her family and we all enjoyed a long, bittersweet, somewhat nervous last dinner in our favorite local spot.  We don't know how long *this* will last -- and we didn't know it then either...the restaurant owners are a sweet couple, and they quietly joined their diners in the revelry -- giving away free coffee and desserts to the scattering of patrons who braved the fear of "contamination" to come out and support them one last time.  And then, the next day -- everything closed.

I felt fear clutch at me.  The layoffs and the economic ruin that would ensue.  The panic and the pain of financial devastation -- plus the very real possibility of riots, looting, martial law.  The virus does not scare me.  I've lived through nearly fatal blood poisoning, a motorcycle accident that broke literally every bone in my body, and a host of lesser injuries and diseases through the 50 years I've been here.  I don't worry for my children either -- they are hearty and healthy -- or even for my Dad, who is severely immunocompromised with ongoing Stage IV leukemia.  His motto -- "No one gets out of this world alive.  Let's live!". My only fear is the unknown -- what does our country, and our world, look like after this "episode."

The anxiety of this took my breath away for the day after the lockdown.  I lay on my couch utterly paralyzed, watching old movies, eating sweets (a taboo in our house -- my son is a jiu jitzu pro) and trying to come to grips with everything.  I roused myself from the couch later that afternoon and headed to my studio, dazed, but forced myself to continue working.  And the next day.  And the next day.

And now...

Now that a week has passed, I feel cautiously "normal" again.  I will remain in my routine of continuing my work, and adjusting to this new normal.  I don't like the feeling of everything shut down, and our lives so limited, to be sure -- but I'm hoping this all ends sooner rather than later.  In the in-between, I can really focus on the projects so many other distractions of our previous life had carried me away from, and on my family and friends -- so every cloud does have a silver lining.

As a reality, this pandemic has made me even more determined to tap into myself and create romantic and serene works of art -- beauty, peace, and serenity -- I need that -- we need that -- more than ever now! So, that is my newly inspired vigor, my eternal Muse.

www.hilaryjengland.com

Studio work

Skillz

I have been concentrating on polishing my skills -- it's a yearly endeavor -- going back to basics -- like sharpening a knife. You can never hone your skills too much -- learning and refining are a never-ending, ongoing process.  It's like weight lifting and exercise -- if you stop, you get flabby.  That's how skills are with artists too.  

So, I've gone back to the beginning, and have no problems with doing so.  Monochrome value oil studies, and copies of the Master's -- like Waterhouse's "Lady of Shallot".  These types of exercises help to clean the vision and reinforce value, shapes, design.  I will continue at these for the next few weeks, as I have some bigger projects I will begin, and I want to be sure my skills are top-notch-- I want to be in the "best shape" possible!

And...

Stay tuned for new things to come! You can also check out my website "Happenings" page too for even more information about events and my upcoming travels--plus check out new prints for sale!

Happy thoughts!

"Dragonfly in the purple flowers" oil on canvas, 7" x 14"

It's been a busy few days, as the new year seems to start off quickly, like a shot that starts a race.  Nola was born yesterday and in the in-between of it I've tried to take a few moment's breather.  I did a little painting the day before, as I'm starting to put together thoughts for several paintings for my ongoing series.  I began to think about things -- imaginations, and thoughts and emotions that can transcribe into my composition. This process usually requires a "limbering up" -- I like to let my mind roam a little freer than usual, and do some brainstorming -- I also do whatever I feel like, in terms of paintings and drawings.  This gets the "juices" flowing -- like a warm-up before a workout. 

I started thinking of spring and summer -- and the beautiful wildflowers that line the banks of the river that's just behind my house.  I would sit out on the retention wall that sits about 12 feet above the banks, and just watch the glorious kingdom of flowers and insects -- the bees, the butterflies, the many species of dragonflies.  I would sit, sometimes for an hour or so, and just watch them.  This little universe fascinated me, and I look forward to it this year as well.

Here is a little oil painting I did of that reminiscence -- just because I was musing and enjoying the memories of it.  When I work, I like to pull on memories of many things, and this memory was a happy, calming one -- a memory of contentment and happiness in a seemingly simple view.

Enjoy! 

New Year 2020!

Hello friends! I’m back! 😁 I hope you all had a very nice holiday and are looking forward to this new year with 2020 vision! 😉

I am hitting the ground running, and here is a collective online exhibition, entitled “Winter” through the Envision Gallery that I have two small oil artworks in.

✅Check it out! ❤️❤️❤️

 https://www.envisionartshow.com/winter

Pop on by and check it out! There is some very nice art from a variety of other artist skillfully depicting their visions of winter as well!