Company

Purple Passion

Original oil painting  16x20"

by Susan Roux

Company. Isn't it part of the holidays? The best part, I'd say. I have to confess I love having people stay over. Whether loved ones arriving or casual acquaintances, it puts the house in an air of celebration.

Purple Passion developed quite differently than my previous still life. When I look at it, it reminds me of the feeling of holiday company. There's a big difference in hosting a holiday meal and having overnight guests. The meal has the house filled to capacity with a fancy table and wonderful smells wafting through the air. Overnight company, on the other hand, is filled with special quiet moments that can remain in your heart forever. 

Like early morning conversation when only two people in the house have awaken. It doesn't matter that your hair is a mess, nor that you're in your bathrobe. Some nice quality time emerges while sipping your first cup of coffee. Don Hatfield and I met like this every morning when he visited a few years ago. As you can imagine, conversations were always deep and about art. Priceless... The same is true with the evening. Cuddled up in front of the warm fire sipping whatever makes you feel cozy inside. This is what I see when I look at this painting. The fancy of company with warm hugs surrounding it all.

My middle son arrives today. I'm ecstatic. Yes I still have plenty to do before my house is company ready. It's exactly like what I read recently on Sally Rosenbaum's blog, the reason women have difficulty rising in their careers to the same capacity as men is: We don't have wives! Consequently, if we're devoted to our work, the house suffers. Let me tell you, I've been very devoted to my art! So after this post, I'll be busy with a plethora of household chores...

I know I'll miss my routine of painting. I always do in December. My classes will still run as usual for the most part. Students really need the break from holiday madness this time of year. They're so thankful for a reprieve and a bit of stress-free time with a brush in their hands. I too am happy to pick up my brushes. What I miss the most is time to paint on my own. 

Come January I'm usually ready to explode on canvas! (not a bad thing.)

So if I don't post again before Christmas or don't stop by as often as usual, know that I'm cozied up in front of the fire sipping something special with my very welcomed company.

Happy holidays to all of you. May you find time to enjoy those special quiet moments amidst the hustle. I also want to take time to thank all of you for stopping by throughout the year. Whether you leave a comment or not, I love that you take time to pop in. And for those of you who are so dedicated to leaving me a little note, know you're the ones who put a huge smile on my face... Blessings to all and have a safe and happy holiday.

Red?

Daybreak Silence

Original oil painting  20x10"

by Susan Roux

This is the popular red house on Monhegan Island. Some subjects from the island have been painted over and over again. This is true of this unusual house. It sits on a rock face with a small beach tuck inside my hidden cove. Most of the day, this facade is in shadow. I was stunned early one morning as I walked the silent streets at daybreak to see it lit in glorious golden sunlight.

I've never been a follower. I pride myself for seeing things from a different angle. I've been approached before by artists asking where on Monhegan is a particular scene I've depicted? So when I saw the crimson colored house transformed to a stunning cadmium red in morning light, I knew right away I had to paint it.

It's November already and many of us are thinking of holiday art. The color red is suddenly in the forefront of our minds. I had to chuckle at myself for choosing to paint this now, when clearly it appears to be orange next to a true Christmas red.

It's a lovely red and green scene, isn't it?

You can expect the unexpected from me. I work hard. I feel deeply. I notice things that many others never see. My view is often slanted, skewed. The photos I work from are usually from an angle that would be impossible to capture painting plein air. I like to duck low, perhaps with a few forefront flowers veiling the distance. I tingle with joy at offering people a view they wouldn't usually experience.

So if you're used to seeing this house painted in lovely crimson, my version might look unusual to you. Unusual yes, but not a fantasy. Just remember, early in the day it shines in lit-up beauty!

So are you painting red for the upcoming holiday season?

What shade are you using?

Booklets

Do you ever have brochures or booklets just jump out at you?

There they are. Staring you in the face. You can feel them tugging at you. Take me. Take me. Your arm leaps forward. You hesitate. It retracts. Your eye stays glued to the booklet. "Why would you be taking it?" you ask yourself. "These are for tourist." Unable to turn away, you finally pick it up.

Have you had this happen to you? I have. Several times actually.

What happens next is the real story. You spend a few moments wondering why you even grabbed this information and almost convince yourself it wasn't there for you at all. And then it happens... It sends you in a completely different direction altogether.

Your mind wanders and begins to imagine possibilities. New possibilities. Your excited just thinking about them. The first time this happened I was in the grocery store and at the checkout I spotted a Cape Cod art gallery guide. This may not strike you as funny, but I'm in Maine and Cape Cod is not exactly close by. There was just one gallery guide tucked among the TV guides. Looking back now, I'm convinced it arrived here by accident. An accident with my name on it. This happened in 2001 and by 2002, after much research and many art packets later, I got into the Blue Heron Gallery. If I hadn't picked up that booklet, would I be there? Most likely not.

Don't avoid taking chances that can spin you around. Surprises await. New beginnings await. Most times its just a matter of taking that initial step. Picking up that booklet...

So Wednesday while waiting for my son to arrive at the airport, I stumbled across a whole stand of booklets. Yes, they are there for tourist. Well a few jumped out at me and I must say I didn't hesitate as long as I had years ago in the grocery store. One was of Blue Hill, Maine. I've never been and knew nothing about it. I may have heard the name, but one town or another, if you don't know it can mean nothing.

I quickly learned its the jutting chunk of land just south of Acadia where the popular picturesque Bar Harbor sits. Its a wonderful area, so why wouldn't the area south be as pretty? I don't suppose it wouldn't. Photos of lupines run through out the booklet. Next thing I know, I'm all over the internet looking for lodging during lupine season...

Wouldn't it be splendid to go paint the lovely purple spikes with the ocean in the background? Whole houses are for rent by the week for the price of a few nights in an inn. (Ha ha, just like in Ireland!) My first thought of going for a few nights quickly turned into wanting to go paint for the week! My second thought is do I want to invite other artists to come join me? You can get houses with various number of bedrooms...

Well I'm not sure how this will play out at the moment. But I can tell you I wouldn't even be considering this if I hadn't first picked up that booklet. Now I'm tingling with excitement at the thought of going on a painting holiday.

I hope you keep yourself open to new possibilities. Half the fun is never knowing what's waiting around the corner. Just as color can give you surprises on the canvas, a slight change in direction can place surprises in your life. Go surprise yourself!

Tiny petunias

Mike and I returned from our two week holiday in Ireland with over 6000 photos. I know that sounds excessive, but we like to walk around taking pictures. Fortunately for us, its what we both want to do. I could post a daily picture from there for several years and still have images to spare.

So then I wonder, what makes me chose one image over another to post?

Take this simple image, a flower box of small, late-season, stringy petunias. Why among thousands was this my choice? Much like choosing an image to paint, this one caused a response. This one spoke to me.

The longer I look at it, the more I like it.

I like the fact that the trim is painted in two shades of red. The bright shiny wood slats of the window itself and the neutralized red, almost dirty red, of the sill. Notice how there are flowers in those exact shades growing. There are even soft yellow ones to match the color of the building. The lankiness of the stems create movement that dance my eye throughout the image. Though tiny and almost struggling to hang on, they remain bright and cheerful. Aren't window boxes up-lifting? I've always loved them.

As I observe closer, the reflection becomes impossible to miss. The window sits in shadow, but the reflection is all sunlit.

There in the distance are houses, a canal, small boats and two figures walking engaged in conversation. The easiness of their stride is captured in the reflection, even through the folds of the curtain. This relaxed easiness can be found throughout Ireland. No wonder we returned so relaxed...

I also like the curtain. Though its white, it appears to be a soft blue. If you look at the top image and squint, it pretends to be the sky...

This entire little image is poetry. It has a whole story to tell.

This captivating little window belongs to Monks. Monks is a pub in Ballyvaughan, Co. Clare. Like all the Irish pubs, they had great fish! The Guinness wasn't bad either. (I never knew beer went with fish...)

I think this is why Mike and I like to walk and take photos. Sometimes the neatest ones can only be found when walking slow. Taking time to look at the details is where the real beauty lies.

Kind of reminds me of people...