Strange evening

It was a long day, with a strange evening to conclude it...shocking, especially for the kids.  As Anthony and I rode into Tamaqua to pick up the girls, it was a beautiful, clear evening.  On the other side of the road, a Police patrol car straddled the shoulder and left lane, sticking obtrusively into traffic.  I could not see if he had a car pulled over, but the whole scenario just struck me as odd...but we thought nothing more of it and drove into the town.  After a disconcertingly bad attempt at double parking (hey, I'm a country bumpkin now!) we doubled up in front of Subway, chatting as we waited for the girls to come out.  After some hurried re-arranging of the car, we gathered everyone and started home.  The girls were chock full of chatter, and we listened as they talked on and on. 

As we approached the area of the earlier police car, we now noticed that there were two police cars instead of one now blocking the road, on a very dangerous bend.  It was now nightfall, and Rt. 309 is only 45 mph in that area, so between the glare, the bend, and the confusion of the police car facing oncoming traffic, I became somewhat disgruntled at what this officer could possibly be thinking, with his car stopped in oncoming traffic blocking the road.  Did he want us to stop?  Was it some kind of a drunk stop on a Tuesday night?  I slowed to a near stop, unsure how to proceed.  I looked to the right, to the shoulder, instinctively, and it was there I saw the reason for the blockage...a dead man laying broken in the road.  I immediately gasped out, "Oh my God," and the two girls immediately followed my gaze...and both screamed and started panicking.

I tried to drive by as quickly as we could without endangering the police that were in their cars blocking the road, but it was enough for all to get a full view of the poor soul.  He lay in a position I've never seen a human being in, like a jack-knifed truck.  He was face down, yet somehow his face was tilted so that you could see his lifeless eyes.  The amount of blood was tremendous, all about him, and his salt and pepper hair was matted with it.  He was wearing a grey flannel and blue jeans, and his legs looked like broken twigs.  I felt so intensely sorry for him, my heart wrenched.  He had been walking along the barricade, and he had been hit and left, like so much garbage, or a deer.  But, he was a person.  He was someone's.  Even if he was, at worse case scenario, a drifter, he was still a man...and it was an extremely sad thing to witness.

The girls were silently weeping in the back seat, and Anthony tried to shake off the shock with platitudes and small talk, but by the end of the ride, we were all silent and red-eyed.  Again, the girls experienced a life lesson together, and again, I had to explain the facts to them.  They were a little more sober minded this time, a little more mature about the reality they had witnessed...the horror.  It was no movie, no video game, and he wasn't laid neatly in a coffin in the funeral parlor.  They saw the grim reality of a highway death.  And so did I. 

So, I am grateful today for many things, especially for the gifts of life and health we have been blessed with.  Never ever take those things for granted, for they can be gone in the blink of an eye, as they were for that poor man.  Life is unpredictable, and we should respect that thoroughly.

Moonbeams and shooting stars

It was just about the finest day since the dawn of time.  The sun was high, the colors brilliant, the air crisp and clear, and the vibration from the earth was perfectly pitched, like a tuning fork.  I went out into the perfect day, and the energy filled me like I was plugged into a socket.  I was able to get much done, although shamefully no en plein air work.  I would've been too antsy for it, I believe, since the wind was slight and gentle, gleefully stirring up the crispy red and gold leaves, and I would not have been able to concentrate for the joy of it.

Tonight, the night is clear as glass.  The cool autumn temperatures accentuate the moonbeams and the stars hanging in the firmament...a night so clear you can see the cosmic dust scattered through the sky like glitter.  I like to sit in the chilly dark, smoking my cigarillo.  It smells even better in this weather.

I was so excited to begin my new painting, I could hardly contain myself.  I have envisioned the entire series, and have even let the "cat out of the bag" by telling Jayson, my rep, so now I am most definitely committed to it.  I hope to have the entire series done by Christmas, in time for the shows I have scheduled for after New Year.

Barcelona is speedily approaching, and I am looking forward to the exponer, and to spending some time exploring Spain...

But for now, let me bask in the sly, melancholy wit of "Smiles of a Summer" by Ingmar Bergman, and enjoy his genius.  It's critic's pick tonight, and there have been some amazing films for our enjoyment.  Thanks TCM!

Incredible flow of thought

I've begun my second work in my newest series, in spite of some very strong forces externally that seemed to be in a cosmic conspiracy against it--that's partly a joke, and partly true, like most humor.

Noelle was a reluctant model/specimen...she doesn't like being observed much, as it makes her feel self-conscious, at least more so than a fourteen year old would normally feel...but she has been good about it.  I have also obtained permission from a few of the teens she kicks around with, although rather than a direct study of them, they are more of a "phantom" study...as much of this work is being done par coer/in studio, rather than on location...lots of studies on location, but no real direct, finished work.

I am pretty charged up to move through this series...it's exhilirating to begin it...like embarking on a new love affair!  I like to shake off the old, and move on to the fresh, new thought processes...and getting those thoughts and feelings thoroughly translated onto the canvas.

So, I may post some photos as I progress along, but, in all honesty, that is not likely.  I like nothing, and then all...as I usually operate in the opposite very well;  I have that down.

So, dream exciting, earth-shaking dreams....I know I will.

Halloween Thoughts! Fright Night 1 - 7/11

Ah, we are approaching Halloween, and love it or hate it, it's that time of year where the mind sort of drifts towards things of the occult, and the nature of that. Since I was a child, I was always fascinated with good and bad, Heaven and Hell, and the forces of nature that propigate that. I had a special fascination with vampires, and no, not the high maintenance, MTV and "Twilight" types, but the old school, dark, evil, truly primeval and hideous vampires, and vampire fokelore. But, then again, I was also obssessed with Greek mythology, LOL.

Stephen King's "Salem's Lot" both the book, which I read countless times before I was even 10 years old, and the movie, which had me transfixed with delicious horror when I was around 10, was the the quintessential prototype of what I thought vampirism was, and I had carried that idea with me until I hit around 19 years old, and I read the Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. I was immediately in love, a little guiltily, with how these vampires still had a hand in their humanity, yet retained that nauseaous death about them. I could handle that compromise, that balance. I wasn't truly the purist I thought myself to be!
Years later, and I still have a guilty softspot in my fascination with vampires, probably a remnant of youth, but when the annoyingly and cloyingly saccharine vampires of "Twilight" were introduced, it was, almost, all puns intended, the final nail in the coffin. They had made vampires into a franchise, with the "Twilight" series as the pinnacle of it, literally the Super Walmart of the vampire stereotypes. It was enough to make me barf! So, I let the fascination go to sleep, like so many other things you leave behind.

Ah, but then, the other day, I remembered my all-time favorite, sexiest on screen vampire, HANDS DOWN. I smiled, and took a trip down memory lane, with Jerry Dandridge bringing me back to greener pastures...I remember watching Chris Sarandon, and my heart literally melting in my chest, by how incredibly good looking, charismatic, and just damn HOT he was in "Fright Night." The movie had a really enjoyable story line, stuck to most of the vampire "rules" about sunlight, crosses/crucifixes, and the plain old downside of being evil, and has just the appropriate touch of 80s campiness to be what I consider the ideal vampire movie!
Plus, I think this scene in "Fright Night" is just so damned sexy, whew, it's like eating hotsauce straight from the bottle!  I love the play of virtue and giving into decadence, and how even Amy's hair reveals she is going wild, and "blossoming;" how she is making the wrong choice, but she runs and embraces it...there is so much that can be read into the scene, but, that's not the purpose of this post :-)   Start the scene at about 1:40 in, and just ENJOY ;-)

New Painting/First of Series!

"Alejandro/a swiftly tilting planet."  by Hilary J. England 18" x 24" oil on harwood panel

It's been a while since I have posted...that monster  "depression" had reared it's ugly head, and I found myself too listless and too resistant to blog.  I forced myself to continue painting, to continue to ponder, to force myself forward, and that was a titanic battle in itself. 

My sister in law Susan died last week of ovarian cancer...not my sister in law Nicole, who battles on in hospice against her brain cancer, but Mark's sister, who was just one week shy of her 47th birthday.  She fell ill last year over the holidays while visiting us.  One night, she didn't come down for supper, which was uncharacteristic of her, since she was a vibrant, jolly, good-natured woman, and enjoyed socializing over dinner.  Barb, my mother-in-law, questioned whether she may have a stomach flu, and since it was the season, we all agreed.  Mark and I then went off to Paris a few days later, and they went on their way back to Florida.

But, before Susan could make it home, she was beset by a pain so terrible, they had to stop in South Carolina and bring her to an Emergency Room.  Here, it was discovered she had Stage 4 ovarian cancer, and she began her short, but torturous battle.  She had massive surgery, many complications, and ultimately, by August of this year, the cancer had spread throughout her lungs, and she was deemed "terminal."  Mark flew out to Florida on September 23rd, as she was not expected to live for more than a few more days; she was on a ventilator against her wishes, and they were going to remove her from it.  They did, on September 25th, and she lived valiantly for a few hours, and then went on to eternity...

That very day, as we waited anxiously for news from Florida, during that timeless, breathless wait of three hours, my niece, Nicole, was born in Los Angeles.  Firstborn for my sister and her husband, they named her in tribute of my ailing sister in law Nicole, and in New York, from her sickbed, she wept tears of joy when they held the phone with the baby's newborn picture up to her face.  It was such an overwhelming day for me...

In the midst of this, we were suffering on a different front at home.  My daughter Noelle was dealing with some very severe bullying issues in school, and she was, as were we all, completely bowled over by the enormous tension of  these bullies relentlessly sending death threats on her telephone, Facebook page, etc., while we were going through these events of life and death.  It got so bad, and the school administration refused cooperation, that we had to withdraw her from school, and enroll her in a charter school.

This large tidal wave of events had knocked me down, rolled me, nearly drowned me...nearly, but not quite.  I leaned heavily on prayers and just the knowledge that this storm will pass, as all storms do.  I found myself washed up on shore...scraped and bruised, but not drowned.

This painting was done in the midst of all of this turmoil.  It's called, "Alejandro/on a swiftly tilting planet."  It is a summary of the pain and isolation Noelle felt, we all felt, during this time.  Noelle and her friend had found a dying mouse on the sidewalk, and in their youthful thinking, felt they would save it.  Apparently, it had been mauled by a local cat, and abandoned.  It lay, gasping and crushed, in the kitchen towel they wrapped it in.  After several hours, they had refused to give up, and so did the little mouse. 

But, it was apparent it was dying, and I caught them just at the moment of his death...They were confused, and angry at why they couldn't save him.  It was a moment of lost innocence, and they had looked at me with hurtful, blazing eyes, for an explanation, one I could not give them...I could only tell them, "this is life, fair and unfair, seemingly without rhyme or reason, but in the end, we will know all things, we will know why.  It may seem a long time to wait, but patience is a very necessary virtue, since if you have patience, you can endure to the end, without bitterness." 

I painted them against the backdrop of a tilted, broken garage door, which I felt added to the confusion and vertigo they were feeling about being confronted with death, the only amount their young minds could grasp at this point.

So, this is the first in my series, surrounding the passage of innocent youth.  "Alejandro" is 18" x 24" oil on hardwood panel, gallery wrapped. 

hilary j england paintings

Update

Well, I have been feeling recharged with the advent of Autumn, and the kids going back to school, and my household returning to "normal" with a set routine.  I never do good without structure as my wild mind has a way of getting wayward with the "freedom", and I was beginning to flounder at the summer's end.

I began a new painting series, as I just couldn't resist it.  I went outside the other afternoon to photo some new paintings, and, God forgive me, I'm a squeamish coward, I saw a "dead" mouse lying on the sidewalk.  I shuddered, and made a mental note to have Mark or Anthony pick it up (I don't do "dead," puke, crap, garbage, or any other "manly" patrol duty).  Neither were home, but would be within the hour, so I just went about my business like it wasn't there.

The kids arrived home from school, with Taylor in tow, and they all immediately noticed the mouse.  Anthony just breezed by it, issuing his usual greeting, and went into the house looking for food, but all of a sudden I heard an outcry of squeals and exclamations from the girls.  The mouse, it seemed, was still alive.  Yes, upon inspection, there it was, in the throes of death, breathing rapidly, every now and then barely moving a little paw.  I was thoroughly horrified at that point, and revolted.

I told them to get away from it and to let it die in peace.  They yelled at me for not offering a solution, to save this helpless, dying creature.  The rumpus aroused Anthony's curiousity, and he came out, slice of melon in hand, to see what all of the fuss was about.  Upon inspection, he announced it was beyond help, and offered to "mercy kill" for us.  He would simply step on it.  This of course, got him chased out of the yard.

I went into the house, to begin dinner, unable to offer any help.  As the minutes ticked by, I realized the girls were very quiet, and went outside to see what they might be up to.  I know my daughter, and she always has had a very morbid curiousity when it comes to death, but also a very strong compassion when it comes to animals, so I knew the lure of this injured mouse was too powerful to let her go that easily. 

I found them outside, at our patio bar, in full nursing mode.  They had this mouse, whom they had named "Alejandro" laid in his "sickbed," which happened to be one of my kitchen towels (YUCK!), and were treating him with Neosporin.  The scene was a wry one, and I had to smother a smile, yet they were really hellbent on fixing this mouse! 

I sighed, and explained that all the Neosporin in the world wouldn't save "Alejandro," and sometimes, you just have to learn when to say when...you have to learn when to let go. 

At that, we had Anthony take "Alejandro" away, but, their fervent effort, innocence, and expectation really touched me.  It brought back such a flood of memories of what it was to believe the world was good, undeniably, and that all things were able to be fixed, and then the realization that not all things can be repaired the way we want, but sometimes, in the end, it's not what we want, but what we need, and the gift is in that, in the growth of that experience. 

So, I began a painting of that moment, when they looked at me with burning eyes to do something, to help, and they had already begun to grasp the helplessness and reality of the situation. 

This painting series is about growth and innocence lost, and there will be seven paintings in it.

By the way, I am starting number four of the North Atlantic series...I was sidetracked (happily) by a commission, but I have also started that work...

So, that's the update from the newsdesk today!

New painting

"Trepidation" by Hilary J England, oil on hardwood panel, 12" by 12"

I have been really slow about getting things done lately. I have had a tumultuous couple of weeks, and now I am hoping things start to settle down...
This is one of my newest paintings, called "Trepidation." It is 12" by 12" oil on hardwood panel, and it is part of the series I am doing of our relationship with the beach. This painting is the second one that will be exhibited in Barcelona, Spain, in Nov/Dec. of this year.
Well, that's about it. Will post more in another day or two when this "holiday" is over.

Have a good one...

Happy Days

I've gotta tell you, things have been a whirlwind around here, with so many good things going on, I'm just in shock.

Anyway, for starters, I will be exhibiting in Berlin, Germany, at the Infantellina Contemporary Gallery, in their international exhibition, "I am who I am."  This will run from September 25th through October 30th, 2010.

Then, I'm off to Barcelona for the A-Forest Gallery International exhibition, "Square Foot," from November 12th to December 15th, which I will also be participating in.

I have also picked up some new representation, so I am looking at a busy New Year, with three shows in Chelsea, and some more international ones in the works.

So, I am pretty busy, but it's a good busy!  I will post my newest painting tomorrow afternoon, when I can photo and upload it.

Ciao, bella!

Fired Up

I watched that old movie "Reds" last night, with Warren Beatty, Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson (I also noticed Gene Hackman and Paul Sorvino making small appearances). 

This movie really annoyed me to the point of actually changing the channel at one part, because it was so irritating to me...but, when I start something, I like to see it through, so I grudgingly went back to it, all 3 hours of it, and finished it up at around 2 in the a.m....and it was still so annoying, I was actually rooting for the "Hero" to die, so the movie would end!

It was a propagandist, Communist-sympathetic movie...and all I kept thinking about through the end scenes were--Beatty couldn't make any headway in the crush of hysterical Beauracracy which is Communism, amongst other things including extreme violence and brutality against any dissenters, starvation for the masses, etc., so why the HELL do "they" want this system for America?  Because "they" don't really care about the people--"they" want a work force for the so-called "Elite", and F*ck everyone else.  That's what that's about.

Anyway, I've never been the biggest fan of Diane Keaton, but her character was so unsympathetic to me, I was also rooting for her character to die at the end along with Beatty's LOL.  Also, question of the day:  Why do all avowed Atheists starting screaming "Oh God" or "God Help Me" when they are in trouble or crisis?  Just wondering...

So, the movie made me disgruntled, and I woke up thinking about it (which means it did it's job, and provoked a response), and I had a series of little still life paintings I was working on, and in my angst, I created the first (Thanks to Warren and Diane!).  It's above, and it's called "The Angry Lemon."

Kind of how I felt about that movie!

Where I'm at

I guess I've been doing too much thinking again...I really try to avoid that, but it's a constant battle...especially when it comes to my art, and Art in general. 

Of course, I have more than my fair share of the requisite self loathing and the mental chaos that generally accompanies that, but I have chosen to corral that, to reign it into the manageable rather than the debilitating, and with that, stick to benign subject matter, and go from there.  Kind of like sticking your toe into a pool to test the waters rather than just jumping in...and finding it to be be boiling or freezing cold.

Initially, I swore off of painting people, since as a bartender for many years, I found I began to loathe the human race, and all of the insanity that surrounded us.  The chaotic karma that came off of people in general tainted me like a drop of poison in a martini...initially the martini felt and tasted good, then it turned to death.   I stuck to landscapes, in the manner of a person that would knit or garden...a very lovely distraction, where I didn't have to have a true deep emotional investment...yet after a while, I did start having that slant, that bent, that initial taste of blood, and then inevitably, I hungered for more.

I found that I couldn't stay away from the emotional investment, like a cat with a mouse.  In this case, I see myself as the mouse, and not the cat.  The emotional attachment and hunger for more stalked me...it lurked in the background waiting to pounce at any given moment...and so, I began to cave in in small increments, a series of small compromises.  At first, I would only paint people at a very far distance, then, with no discernable features, then, only intimate features of those I love, and then, like a drug addict who finally can restrain themselves no longer, I just blasted it all to pieces and went ballistic and didn't care.

My thoughts are, now that the glass menagerie is in shards and splinters, I must be honest with myself, and accept that my period of isolation is over.  So, where do I stand?

I had aligned myself with the Impressionists in a sort of fantasy of thought.  I loved their dreamy use of paint and color, and I longed for their Bohemian "innocence" with a nostalgia I had no vested interest in.  So, as I painted away...I was living in a protective coccoon--trying to keep safe my last shreds of humanity, which the rest had been stripped away, layer by layer, by the world itself. 

But, in going away to nurse my wounds, like most wounds, if they are not mortal, those wounds recover.  Now, I realize, I must choose which road to travel. 

I would say I most align myself with Social Realism, except for one glaring problem.  I am NOT A LEFTIST, NOR A COMMIE, etc.  I feel that the LEFT has become the new enemy of the people, in a sanguine way.  They try to appear to champion the little guy, all the while despising him.  It's like sugar coating a cyanide capsule. 

So, what genre am I, a person who is certainly a "little person" (and I mean more than just stature), who paints the perspectives of the little people, and lives the life of an average Joe?  I am going to be bold and break rank here, and still say I am a Social Realist.

I am painting and recording the lives of Average Joes in our Middle Class, from their perspective, not from an Elitist one.  Not from a position of disdain masquerading as concern, but from an indifferent point of view as a person who is in the barrel with the rest of the squirming masses.  Not looking down, but looking around.  One who knows.  One who is here in the midst...not one who must foray out at night in disguise, to see what it's like to be "one of them."

And so, here's where I'm at.

"Contemplation"

Here is my new painting, the first in a series of seven, two of which will be going to the exhibition in Barcelona, Spain. 

This painting is called "Contemplation" and it is Gamblin oil on a cradled, primed, masonite support, 12" by 12" (these will all be this size).  Once again, I find myself going back to a square format.  I seem to go through "spurts" in which I like a square format, and now, instead of large squares, I prefer smaller ones.

This painting was done par coer in studio from a series of studies and sketches I did down at the Jersey Shore, of course, my old haunt, Avon-by-the-Sea.

Gabrielle and Bronson

Here is my new pastel painting, "Gabby and Bronson", 9" x 12" pastel on paper, by, of course, Hilary J. England. 

This painting was both wonderful to do, since I painted my babies, but it was also frustrating, since I have not painted portraits for a long time, let alone pastels, which can be a difficult medium to achieve accuracy with sometimes, but, factor the issue of 20 year old pastels, which kept crumbling into colored dust as I tried to use them, which was maddening.  Of course, this is my fault for several reasons, but first and foremost, I should have THROWN THEM OUT AND BOUGHT A NEW SET.  Alas, I'm getting cheap and stubborn in my advancing age (Hey, I'm 40 now!).

Anyway, I've really developed such an interest lately again in portraiture, and have decided to do an indefinite series, which means, until I get sick and tired of doing them, which may take a few years, or not at all!  I guess I was kind of sick and disgusted with people in general for a while, and that reflected in my abhorrence of painting them at all.

Anyway, there will be more to come, now that my heart is starting to thaw out on this subject....

Absolved!!!

Yesterday was Noelle's court hearing for her harassmsnt charge.  For you friends who didn't know the story, Noelle is my 14 year old daughter, and she was walking along school property to her friend's house after school with a small group of girls (ages 12-14), when a group of older boy high school students starting yelling obscenities at them, including:  "Hey sluts, show us your titties!"  She yelled back, "Shut up, you look like fucking chipmunk!"   She was summarily arrested for yelling an obscenity.  To be more clear, a female teacher overheard her say the dreaded "F" word, didn't ask her why, supposedly didn't hear the curses and slurs the men had shouted at the girls, and told her she was in "big trouble" for cursing.  Noelle apologized, and thought that was that. 

The next day, she was called into the principal's office, who told her she was getting a three day out of school suspension for using a profanity on school property, under their "ZERO TOLERANCE" school military code.  If she showed up on school property for any reason during her 3 day out of school suspension, she would be arrested.  She stayed at home and served her three days, never going near the school during that time.  She returned to school and thought that was that.

Two weeks later, she was called out of class to the principal's office.  There, she was bullied by the principal and police officer, who issued her a citation in lieu of arrest, for the charge of HARASSMENT (against the TEACHER because the teacher overheard the curse, and her pure and moral ears were offended) and was told by the principal and police officer that if she didn't pay the $250 fine and plead guilty, she would be arrested, or I would be arrested in her place because she's a minor and I'm responsible for her.  She was absolutely terrorized by these two bullies and then sent home.

We didn't know what the hell was going on, and the principal, nasty little wanna be Napoleon that he is, wouldn't tell us ANYTHING when Mark called, just that there had been an "incident" (we assumed a new incident since this was two weeks later) and the police had been called.

After sitting down with Noelle, talking to her friends who were present, and grilling that asshole principal again, we found out this was all a terrible abuse of authority on the part of the school and police department, and got the American Civil Liberties Union involved (ACLU).  They looked over the incident, gathered their information, and took the case.  Yesterday, we went to court, and the school looked like a bunch of bullying idiots (which they are) as did the Police Officer, who in all honesty, was just a slow, dimwitted fellow who was doing what he was told to do...pathetic, if it didn't have the potential to have a negative impact on my daughter's future.

So, now we move forward to make sure the school can't bully it's students like this again without recourse.  The public school system has become a Nazi enterprise (at least in our area), where they our allowed to deprive students of their rights to an education on ANY basis they so choose, and feel that the parents and public are "beneath" them, and they can do whatever they want without any consequences.  This includes young male teachers looking underneath 13 year old girls clothing to make sure they are wearing the right colored underwear and bra....which happened to my daughter on several different occasions this year, as to her friends. 

More to come on that subject!!!!

Field's End Art by Hilary J. England: A quick morning "hello"

Field's End Art by Hilary J. England: A quick morning "hello": "Hello Friends! I have updated my 'traditional' website, http://www.fieldsendart.com/ with some new paintings, etc. I kind of debated givi..."

A quick morning "hello"

Hello Friends!

I have updated my "traditional" website, http://www.fieldsendart.com/  with some new paintings, etc.  I kind of debated giving up a "traditional" website, and had it torn down for a while, to see if it was really necessary or not, being I am linked and listed on so many other sites...after the experiment, I deemed it actually still is a necessary site, so back up it went!

I am dragging tail this morning, but some more coffee should fix that.  Mark made a wonderful breakfast of a nice small omelet with chives, fresh mushrooms, fresh tomato, and fresh mozzarella, along with a nice garden fresh fruit cup, and freshly ground coffee...notice the theme here, FRESH.  I've grown cantankerous, and loathe anything "prepackaged" or "quick."  We have taken small steps to homesteading, such as our garden and herbarium, but Mark says NO to the idea of chickens...spoilsport ;-)

I've got alot of work to do today, and I'm starting to stress about tomorrow...projection projection projection...always that negative thought factory processing up bullshit.  I have made a conscious decision to consistently strike down any negative thoughts that come into my head, and I have to say, I am feeling better for it.  Not running through a field of wildflowers on a mountain slope in the Alps happy, but happy and contented enough!

So, that's the little tidbit for today...website is up and running again.

Field's End Art by Hilary J. England: Barcelona exhibition

Field's End Art by Hilary J. England: Barcelona exhibition: "I got word on the Barcelona show I was invited to exhibit with yesterday, so that should be an interesting and exciting trip. The show will..."

Barcelona exhibition

I got word on the Barcelona show I was invited to exhibit with yesterday, so that should be an interesting and exciting trip.  The show will run from November 20th to December 4th, with the opening reception being the night of November 25th, from 7:30 to 10:30 pm (which is Thanksgiving here in the US).  I didn't get the gallery information yet, and I am awaiting that confirmation, but I will be heading to Spain for that opening, and for several days before.  Translation, I will be in Spain for Thanksgiving, but the kids understand, and we plan to have a "belated" dinner when I return. 

As I get more information, I will disperse it.  It will be organized by the A-Forest gallery in Chelsea, NYC, and it will be very close to the Picasso museum in Barcelona is the only heads up I have right now.  I do look forward to meeting some of my European friends when I get there, and I suppose I should brush up on my very rusty Spanish (this is aimed at Mark as well).

Again, more to come in the next few weeks...

Plus, I will be posting my newest creations in the next couple of days, but scratch Tuesday and Wednesday, because I have to go to court on Tuesday (yuck) for N and her cursing offense, and I'll be heading back to the beach on Wednesday, to relax after Tuesday, and to do some more painting.  So, look for the new pictures on Thursday.  How's that for specifics??

Anyway, off to bed.  I feel very tired, but I can't extricate myself from the grips of the computer...I must!  Time to dream about the ocean at night, or a long quiet flight over the Atlantic, with the serene darkness seemingly impenetrable, and the comforting path of the airplane on the GPS overhead...and stepping off into the arid heat of Madrid...or of soaking my toes in the Mediterranean, with the soft breeze against my face. 

Good night all!

New portrait

"For Dawn" by Hilary J. England, 8" x 10" pastel/mixed media on charcoal paper

Here is a new portrait I did for my friend.  I enjoy doing portraits alot, and had forgotten how much I did.  I used to do commissioned work, but I stopped in pursuit of "doing my own thing..." maybe I'll start doing some commissions again...

Beach paintings

beach paintings

New art

impressionism paintings
Here is a link to some really nice paintings, aside from my own.  Enjoy!!