The Summer Art Show Season is Here

Summer is already here and that means it's time to hit the road with my artwork. My first show this year will be the Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Show in Philadelphia. This becomes a very busy time of year when I juxtapose minute details (Do the van tires have enough air? Did I bring the picture hanging hooks?) with bigger concerns (Do I have enough artwork?).

Center City Sunset 18x24 Original pastel.

I can hardly believe that this will be my fourth year of exhibiting in outdoor art shows. I tentatively dipped my toe into this beginning back in 2005 when I participated in just one show, the Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts. Just one week before the show, my booth finally arrived from the manufacturer via UPS freight. The boxes were enormous and heavy. It was overwhelming to assemble. I literally spent days in our garage trying to figure out how all of the little pieces fit together. My husband steered clear, as if to say, "This is your baby now."

At the show itself, a hurricane moved up the coast that weekend and it ended up being a soggy affair, thus fulfilling my every phobia about doing outdoor shows. But the booth held firm and we came through it alright. In fact, there was a wonderful response to my artwork and I was hooked from that point forward. I now participate in three or four shows each summer. Because I offer originals and only a few limited edition prints, I don't aspire to do many more shows than this each year.

Since starting out a few years ago, my husband (a.k.a. My Underpaid Art Assistant) and I have persevered through more torrential rains, blazing hot temperatures, and other logistical challenges. We've found quick-witted thinking and a sense of humor to be invaluable tools for dealing with ever-changing conditions and myriad personalities. Neither one of us will ever forget the patron who came into our booth and complimented us on the artwork. But he then went on to say that he couldn’t purchase anything because his kids liked to do handstands around his home and they had a habit of throwing their feet up against the walls....Not good for original artwork.

In addition to humorous encounters like that, one unexpected thing that I've found over the past several years is that visitors to my booth often have more eloquent ways of characterizing my work than I do. It's amazing how a fresh set of eyes can identify common themes that I don't even see for myself. A favorite encounter was with a gentleman at a show last year who lamented working within an office environment. After looking at some of my plein air landscapes, he commented, "You’re so lucky. You get to have an outdoor office." I loved that. I think of that phrase now whenever I haul my easel out into the field.

I continue to enjoy interacting with visitors to my booth and I'm looking forward to this upcoming show season. Please stop by and see this year's new landscapes and cityscapes.

May, A Month in Pictures

I recently returned from a visit to my brother's family in Florida, where I forgot the battery charger to my digital camera. Thus, I am unable to photograph any new artwork until it returns home to me via US mail because my trusty Canon camera is dead right now. Gr-r-r.

Nonetheless, I do have some photos to share with you to chronicle this past month. I'm sorry that I haven't been more diligent with my posts recently....We've had a three-ring circus here between home renovations, travels, and a few doctors' appointments sprinkled in for good measure. I am settling back down into work as our contractors finish up with our new windows and other details around our home. To escape some of the inevitable construction chaos, I've been taking our dog, Annie, out in the field to do some plein air painting. Annie is not a fan of the percussive "thwack" of hydraulic nail guns, so it's been therapeutic for both of us to get outside during these beautiful spring days.

A picture is worth a thousand words and I hope that you will enjoy these images:

A Postcard from the Easel while plein air painting in Pennsylvania's Reeds Gap State Park. This piece will be called "Spring Flow."

Another Postcard from the Easel from within Reeds Gap State Park. I'm not yet sure what I will call this piece.

Annie lounges along the banks of Honey Creek in Reeds Gap State Park while I work.

My 2 year old nephew, Maxwell, reveals the first glimmers of creative artistry with his sister's Fisher Price digital camera.

With my 5 year old niece, Julia, and 2 year old nephew, Maxwell, in Florida.

A final Postcard from the Easel from central Pennsylvania's Mifflin County.

When Life Intrudes

I'm getting back into the swing of things at my easel after a chaotic couple of weeks.

To start with, I traveled down to Philadelphia to view the Cézanne and Beyond exhibition. It was quite a treat to see the variety of the artists who were influenced by Cézanne, although I believe that the exquisite watercolors of Charles Demuth stole the show. And I always appreciate the opportunity to gaze upon the frenetic works of Alberto Giacometti.

I needed that museum visit to get a creative boost. Because over the past 14 days, I've endured an outpatient surgery to help diagnose what the heck is wrong with my woeful hip (for all of you reading this, I definitely do not recommend injections into the hip joint. Egads), my husband had sinus surgery (he's doing much better now), and we had several windows replaced on our home. Including the windows in my studio. Yippee! No more feeling like an "ant beneath a magnifying glass" on sunny days. Oh, and I built a new 4' x 10' stone raised bed vegetable garden in our backyard with the help of our neighbor's teenage son, who did all of the heavy lifting. Let's hear it for teenagers!

Springtime, Philly 6 x 8 pastel on paper.

Suffice it to say, life has intruded a bit on my artwork. Things should be a bit calmer over the coming weeks. As I settle down into life back at my easel I am jumpstarting my mojo with a couple of "mini" pieces. These smaller format works are a balm for my soul when I need to pick up the rhythm of working.

Sunset Ridge 6 x 8 pastel on paper.

The first piece was inspired by my recent visit to Philadelphia and the second one captures a vista located just a moment from our home. Enjoy!