Clouds and Cloud Chasing

I’ll be out chasing clouds the next few days. These are from the 27th.

Clouds 27 June 2017//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js

I care about truth, not for truth’s sake but for my own. — Samuel Butler, novelist

Quotes from Vincent 

Courtesy of The Painter’s Keys

It is something to be deep in the snow in winter, to be deep in the yellow leaves in the autumn, to be deep in the ripe wheat in the summer, to be deep in the grass in the spring. It is something to always be with the mowers and the peasant girls, in summer with the big sky above, in the winter by the black fireplace. And to feel — this has always been so and always will be. — Vincent van Gogh, 1885

and this:

The fisherman knows that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reasons for staying ashore.  — Vincent van Gogh

From the Quote Box

I am in the present. I cannot know what tomorrow will bring forth. I can know only what the truth is for me today. That is what I am called upon to serve, and I serve it in all lucidity. — Igor Stravinsky 1936

Welcome Visitors! 100! Paint! Quote!

For awhile now this blog has existed in two planes, the much older, self-hosted wordpress.org version and of late the wordpress.com version. I’d had a .com account for a long time mainly so I could answer questions about it by getting into the nuts and bolts of the settings but frankly I didn’t use it. Then one day I discovered that I could, through the magic of a plug in on the .org side, mirror all my posts to the .com side. Well why not? There was a little learning curve along the way and I really should get over there and get a better layout going etc but it’s been fine.

The best part of all this is that I have followers on the dot com side! Over time the number has gone up slow and steady and yesterday I got notice that Candace M. Bisram, over at pocket full of smiles and 99 others were following my blog. Thank you Candace for being number one hundred and giving me a little geek moment!

Hope you’re enjoying the posts, whether it’s on quiltr.com or mbquilts.wordpress.com. As always, I enjoy your comments when you’ve got ’em!

Just for some color, here’s a quick painting I did inspired by one of John Constable’s. I used the Canson paper (did better this time) and focused on blending the colors on the paper and mostly using my biggest round brush. Hey, that paper is 12 x 18 so it’s a lot of ground to cover. The paint did some interesting mineralizing effects in the sky where the ultramarine and indigo met the burnt sienna.

after constable

Turns out the paper is a smidge bigger than my oversized scanner – what’s a painter to do?

And a quote from the quote box, because why not?

You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor. — Aristotle

Kindness – From the Quote Box

There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophies. My brain and my heart are my temples; my philosophy is kindness. — Dalai Lama

Wednesday Night

Came home today and sat down to paint. Step by step we reach our goals, right? Added quite a bit, managed to leave a lot of white areas where there would be flowers and realize deep in my heart that dark colors are really something I need to get comfortable with. Very odd since in fabric I’m all about the darks.

Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men’s blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans. Aim high in hope and work. Remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will not die. — Daniel H Burnham

Sunday, Looking Things Over

Not as vivid (ever) as it was wet, but I’m still pleased with the colors and with that dry brushwork in the center. Guess those UK guys are having an influence.

I did this one this morning – a little smaller, smooth hot press paper. Was too wet to do any dry brushwork on it so it borders on aurora rather than evening-lit trees.

If you ask me what I came to do in this world, I, an artist, will answer you: I am here to live out loud. — Émile Zola