Pansy

Pansy (Acrylic on Canvas, 32" x 25", 2006) is a further abstraction from a previous oil pastel. It was started early this year, but I didn't get motivated sufficiently to finish it until I was asked to have a work in a show ("Grant Me a Wish," opening May 6 at the Historic Cabarrus Courthouse in Concord, NC). Nothing like a deadline to get me going!

Working in acrylics is a real challenge, which is why I was dragging my brush on it. Through the years I have occasionally worked on canvas. Originally I found acrylic paint to be "slimy" and hard to manipulate, but either the paint has improved or my skill has evolved a bit (?), because this is fun! As much as I enjoy my oil pastels, there are size limits and protection issues that can be constricting. Bigger may not necessarily be better, but the change is very stimulating.

The canvas for Pansy was stretched and prepared years ago for a landscape with a little group of buildings in the center. I never got around to it; then my work changed, and I was going to use it for a close-up of two white flowers. Got the drawing on it, stared at it off and on for a year or so, and then changed my mind when the final image came to me. To paraphrase the old saying: if canvases could talk!

Reflection

Reflection (10" x 8", oil pastel, 2003) was my first work in oil pastel over a faint inkjet print.

It happened by accident: my printer was running low on ink, and the image I was working with came out all streaky and light. I find it hard to throw anything away, so I started looking at possibilities. Previously I had used pastel pencils and watercolor over prints, but knew that those mediums wouldn't cover the streaks. There was a box of Cray-Pas lying around gathering dust; "the rest is history." This is probably the only one of my oil pastels in which I allowed the ground to show a little, mainly because the crayons were somewhat dry from age. Being admittedly compulsive about covering my tracks (brushstrokes), I switched to a creamier brand (Sennelier) and have been happily smearing and blending ever since.

For 17 years I kept my sailboat on Lake Norman, until the rent got too high and the traffic too heavy. I still hope to find quiet water somewhere again; in the meantime, there is a whole series of reflections from my lake years, waiting to be done.

Three Crosses

Three Crosses is a small gouache study from the 90's which was part of a larger body of works from my Southwestern Series. I was so fascinated by the imagery in a photo of an adobe church, that I actually built a model of it and did my own studies from that second-hand reality. This work seemed appropriate for Easter, especially the shining cross against the black space behind it.

I have one memory of Easter that stands out above all others. It was a gorgeous, warm and sunny day - perfect April weather here in North Carolina. The family dinner was over, my folks had gone visiting, and I was looking forward to a nice, leisurely walk with my dog in the balmy evening air. We came out of the house and were coming up the drive to the road when I was suddenly aware of a chain reaction of barking dogs (like a wave, starting way off and traveling up my road). Didn't take long to find out why: just as we started up the road I heard hoofbeats and before I could get my wits together a white stallion came flying right at us! I yanked my dog a 180 and we beat it for the house as he streaked past us on his way to his objective: our lovely Thoroughbred mare "Dixie", who had sent him a signal.

Thus started a truly wild evening, with a hysterical dog in the house, a love-crazed stallion tearing around the fence and the neighborhood, an equally-crazed mare running around inside the fence, a deputy who showed up and assessed it as a "Mr. Ed" situation, the chubby back-up person from Animal Control who came with a dog truck instead of a horse trailer and just stood there watching, and finally every neighbor and good ol' boy around, trying to catch the horse. In the middle of it, my unsuspecting parents drove up. At least I had a lot of help explaining what was going on.

After three hours of "Wild Kingdom" in the back yard, the stallion wore himself out and took a fall which slowed him down, and he was caught. His owner was finally located and showed up on crutches with a piece of clothesline, planning to lead the horse home with it. It turned out that "Sultan" was 28 years old. I guess there was still plenty of fire left in that Arabian furnace! Enough to thoroughly plow a band about six feet wide all around our fence, but not quite sufficient to get to the mare. Every time I mowed, for several years after, I was reminded of that evening by the bumpy ground. And I can still see a beautiful ghost horse, snaking his exquisite neck and tossing his mane as he flew back and forth in the dusk in pursuit of amor.

Shell

Shell (12" x 12", Gouache on Paper, 1979) was completed after I finished school. I was looking through some photos when I found this shot of it. The more I looked at it, the more excited I became. I had forgotten what lovely curves and colors there were in that old shell: a lot like those you find in flowers. I sense a "Shell Series" forming here.

About that shell: my grandmother took a trip to the Bahamas long ago, and brought back a pink conch shell for my souvenir. I remember blowing until my ears hurt, but never got a decent sound out of it. It was a lot more fun to paint it.

Another note: I usuallly post on Sunday, but due to an unexpected evening at the ER am running late this week. Very glad to be here!

Fly Away

Fly Away (7.25" x 10", oil pastel, 2004) has never been publicly displayed until now.

On Monday, April 7, 2003, my father's life here ended while I was out walking my dog. I wondered if somehow he saw us as his soul was leaving, and maybe passed over us on his way to God.

The hydrangea series was already in progress at the time. One composition in particular kept speaking to me, so I did several versions; the image in Fly Away came to me after I'd done two or three others. It went really quickly, as if for once I knew exactly what I was supposed to do, and I finished it in about an hour. This is one painting that is definitely not about flowers.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

CHARLES W. STAFFORD

(OCTOBER 10, 1921 - APRIL 7, 2003)