"Hannah, Osmosis"

"There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds

Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;

When down her weedy trophies and herself

Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;

And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:

Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element"~from Hamlet, by William Shakespeare 

We are over 80% water, and so like a bee to honey many of us enjoy flying through that ubiquitous element that makes up so much of what we are. I have become hypnotised by water, by it's perennial undulations. To try to capture those patterns with paint is a tough task. However the practice of scaling a wall of water is a job I love. Each thing that an artist attempts to paint and imbue with their own fingerprint is different. Skies are some of the toughest things to paint, especially calm skies. When there are storms, with choppy clouds and angry horizons it is easier, but a clear, bluebird day is a hard thing to capture.

And so it is with water. Smooth water is tough for me, but the reflections and refractions of light through the waves is a much more satisfying thing to tackle. Perhaps it is because I dislike smooth gradations of paint. I dislike blending, but prefer to let the brushstroke and pigment sit there and kibbutz with the other planes of light and colour. I like the chatter of a variety of brushstrokes and angles of application. 

This is the fourth painting I have done like this. I cannot help it. Like a sailor needs to return to the sea, I keep going back to these cerulean paintings. Perhaps it is a way to continue to see my friend Hannah, who lives a distance away from me. Perhaps it is because of her personality, her vivaciousness, that I return here too. It is all connected. 

The coastline of Carry Le Rouet in the South Of France.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carry-le-Rouet

A few years ago I was in France and my hosts and I drove down to the Mediterranean Sea. I remember craning my neck to see over the hillside that I knew rose up by the highway and then swept down to "The Big Blue" as my friends called it. And sure enough, when I first saw it, it took my breath away. Such deep, rich teals flew by as we neared it, a diaphanous expanse of turquoise that compelled you to get closer.

I lamented not having my bathing suit with me but waded into the cool, salty water until it was over my knees. Even when I was as small child and my mother first put me in a swimming class, where they had a little platform under the water that enabled little children to jump off into the terrifying five foot depths, there was something familiar and effortless about it all. Like an embrace that never quite hugs you back, it supports you but will let you fall if you do not work to retain stability. Water is a strange and beautiful paradox. It takes many lives, but also restores life, is essential to life. To contemplate water is to contemplate yourself. And to paint water, well, perhaps another form of knowledge lies in those blue tubes of paint as well..

"Hannah, Osmosis", is 36"x48", oil on panel, and is currently available at Abbozzo Gallery in Toronto, Ontario. 

Thank-you for reading and have a beautiful weekend,

Heather

"There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures."~William Shakespeare

"Surfacing": The Swimming Paintings

"I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after,

 and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me,

 like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."~Emily Bronte

For a long time now I have been painting draped figures, the drapes pooling around the figure in white and adjacent shadows showing the form that lies underneath. I have found a new love, or rather, another love: painting water.

Whether still or active, transparent or opaque, water is what we are (mostly) made of, and it cleanses, heals, renews and invigorates us. I feel more at home in water than on land frankly. It is where I can fly briefly, before needing to breathe. It whispers around us and keeps us buoyant but it can also take us too. Simply speaking, it is where we can lose ourselves. Such a powerful symbol and such a fascinating thing is the perfect subject to paint, especially with the figure incorporated into it.

Included in this post are my three swimming paintings: "Hannah, Surfacing", "Hannah, Flying" and "Hannah, Through". All oil. All on wood panel.

"Hannah, Through", oil on panel, 5"x7", available at Abbozzo Gallery

Hannah is one of my muses and a cherished friend. It is easy to paint people you care for, especially those who are old souls. Hannah is such a person. I look forward to completing many more paintings with her as the subject.

When I was visiting Hannah in Buffalo in the summer, we had the chance to spend time at her childhood home. I saw the pool in the backyard, had my camera with me, and asked if Hannah would mind swimming while I shot some reference for paintings. Well in 10 minutes I had enough reference for at least three paintings! Just like that. Happiness. Knowing you have viable reference is a huge boost in one's confidence toward the  completion of a painting.

"Hannah, Surfacing", oil on panel, 48"x72", private collection, Delaware, USA

These paintings were a part of my exhibition "Surfacing" which just ended four days ago. The show was a huge success! I am very thankful to collectors, friends and my gallery, Abbozzo Gallery, who have supported me through the past few years. These paintings took over 150 hours to paint between the three of them. Time well spent I believe.

I think I have found something special with these paintings. A lot of artists paint water, but everyone's journey is what matters, and I think I have found a whole new story to tell here. The blues, the translucence, the transparency, the distortion, the illusion. There is so much about this subject that intrigues me. When you see these paintings from a distance back they do coalesce but up close, as usual, they fragment into delineated planes of pigment. It is like standing in a field. You see the rows of corn separately but above, in a plane, they are waves themselves that meld together, they blend into the field beyond. Art is about illusion, but not malicious or deceptive of course. It is about transporting you away from your present state and into another place and time.

"Hannah, Flying", oil on panel, 18"x24", private collection, Mississauga, Ontario

Water is special because almost all of us have swam in it, dove into it, floated in it, bathed in it, lamented it, welcomed it, imbibed it, and we all remember its effects on us. I love painting what appears to be there and not there. I do love that the figure is folded in another type of fabric, organic and flowing, which shows form and hides form too.

These paintings are another beginning. The first chapter in a long book. Thanks for reading and here is a beautiful poem by my favourite poet, Mary Oliver. Keep creating and keep believing in yourself.

Heather


In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.