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! 

Blueberries

"Blueberries" by Hilary J. England, oil on canvas, 3" x 3" x 2", 2016

I decided to go out and do some plein air painting since today happens to be Election Day, and to be honest, I just don't want to think any more about this election -- whatever happens after I vote is out of my hands, so why get all worked up about it? It is beyond my control. 

So, I went to go drive to a nice spot and just do some painting in this gorgeous weather and lo and behold, I realized all of my gear is in my Subaru, which also happens to be out by my Dad, getting the brakes done.  So, rather than getting irritated, I decided to make lemonade from the lemons situation, and add to my still life collection of individual fruit paintings.

I found what's left of some decent blueberries on the bush (they were beginning to shrivel, but some were still nice) and decided that would be my next fruit.  I was able to get this one done pretty quickly, about an hour or so, and I still feel better than I would have if I had hung around all day like a wraith watching the Election debacle unfold on one of the those terrible news outlets.  So, it was a win-win all around for me.

~Enjoy!

Replays

"Calm seas before a shower" by Hilary J England
oil on canvas, 8" x 11" x 1, 2013

My mind keep returning to the beach...it's where I feel closest to God for whatever reason, but when my mind is under serious, ongoing stress, it seems to return there, to the peaceful cool of the salty air, the smooth resistance of the sand, the majesty of the enormous vistas, and the sound of the waves, either lapping or pounding the water's edge.  Today, the waves were gentle, the breezes, soft.

Mark is still in the hospital.  It doesn't appear that the chemo has had any effect on the tumors, which is disheartening.  They are trying to get him strong enough to come home, and then in another week, we will have to make a decision:  go forward with more treatment, or not.  This is an excruciating decision, and one that can never have a "right time."  The implications are obvious, and it seems surreal that from St. Patrick's Day to now, this situation has surfaced, mushroomed, and has sucked our entire lives into its vortex.  I don't know what to do or say to be of support or help, since it is Mark's life, it is ultimately his decision.  I support either decision, and will help him through it either way.

So, like water dripping from a faucet, I feel the tension in the air, the catch of breath before exhalation.  I am optimistic to get through these trials, as it is the only thought that moves me forward.  This too shall pass...happy days will come again, one day, soon. I feel that is certain, I hope on that, I count on that, I dream on that, I live on that.

Out to the studio



"Foggy Spring farm field" by Hilary J. England, 8" x 10" oil on canvas

It's a lovely day, and I am out to the studio today.  A little cold, but I can't complain...the daffodils are all blooming, and besides, I am lucky my studio isn't burnt to the ground after last night's fiasco...

Around 11:45 pm last night, we were snoozily watching Yves Montand and Marilyn Monroe in "Let's Make Love" on TCM, just getting ready to go to bed, when I heard this loud bang that seemed to come from upstairs, or the front of the house.  It snapped me awake, and I thought, "what the heck is Anthony doing up in his room??"  A few seconds later, we heard an even louder boom, so loud, it sounded like a sonic shockwave from a jet, or a car crashing into the house.  It literally shook the house like an earthquake. 

We all jumped up and began looking around the house, when Anthony went to the side balcony and started yelling, "Fire!!  Fire in the front of the house!!"  I yelled, "Is it the house?"  He yelled back, "I can't tell, I can't see--only flames shoooting up!"  We all raced to the front of the house, and there in the street, in the front of the house, was an SUV, completely ablaze, flames shooting as high as the telephone pole. 

We were shocked, and felt horror thinking there was a person in there.  The heat was too hot to approach, and we were afraid of further explosions...then suddenly, from the side of our house, a man emerged, looking aghast.  He was the driver of the burning vehicle, and managed to get out of his vehicle unharmed.  He explained he hit a deer, and a few moments later, as he tried to limp his car off the road into the dirt parking lot across the street, the car suddenly exploded into flames. 

He was able to get out with his life and his laptop.  He had just bought the truck the week before, and it had only limited insurance on it...he had had bad luck with that, but good luck because he is alive and unhurt.  We all watched from the corner of the house as the fire company went to work putting out the inferno.  It was pretty impressive, that a car could burn that long, hot and fiercely.  After about ten minutes, they got it out, and then went about the business of hosing down all of the rooftops in the area, so no ancillary fires began and cleaning up the wreckage.

Since my studio had been literally in front of the inferno, we had to haul all of the paintings out through the side door while this was occuring, just as a safeguard in case the barn went up in flames.  It is over a 100 years old, and would've burned down very quickly, and I would have lost a bulk of my paintings, so we had to move quickly.  Now, this morning, they are all back in there, but I have the unpleasant task of rehanging them all...which I am not looking forward to.

So, with that being said, I will leave you with a pleasant little painting called "Foggy Spring farm field" done last Spring, so I can keep my thoughts and spirits focused on happy and warms days to come, and remember that things can certainly always be worse...and I'm thankful for just being inconvenienced and not plundered. Enjoy!