Pause and Ponder 12×12 oil available at Art Center Waco
Although a Solar Eclipse is often a “once in a lifetime” experience, it is a phenomenon known in all continents around the world. For centuries, people have pondered and wondered at the heavenly spectacle.
When the Art Center Waco announced their exhibit, Eclipse: Shining Shadows, to coincide with the 2024 Eclipse over Waco, I immediately thought of a photo from years ago! My son, Mark Stokes, had photographed a powerful image of a child viewing the 2001 eclipse in Mozambique. I remembered the impact of light and shadow in the photograph and the inquisitive expression on the child’s face. I asked the photographer for permission to use it as a photo reference for a painting. (How could he turn down his mother?)
The message of this painting is a celebration of humanity’s sense of wonder, and gratitude for the gift of sight. We, who behold, bond with emotions of awe and reverence as we pause and gaze into the unknown. We remember the day that we saw the eclipse and paused to ponder the unfamiliar sight. (Sure, there are clear scientific explanations we can give.) I choose to see through the eyes of a child and be amazed!
Morning Light 24×30 oil on gallery wrapped canvas $700
Painted during the late summer when the hay grass had turned a Naples Yellow, this landscape is currently on my guest room wall. I walked in there today, noticed it, and said to myself, “I had forgotten about that one!”
I don’t know how I forgot about it, except that it was painted at a time when I was in between shows. It wasn’t dry enough for “From the Ground Up.” And then, life got busy, so I just put it out for sale on my website today!
I love the finished painting as much as I loved the morning light when it hit that yellow hayfield one summer morning. It was one of those mornings that grabbed my attention and said, “Paint me!” I probably had a coffee cup in my hand, walked out on the porch to breathe, before the Texas heat took over by 10:00 a.m., and used my cell phone to record the scene, for reference in a painting.
The painting, Morning Light, is in my guest room, for now. But, if it gets your attention and you are interested, be my guest! The paintings on my walls are often changed. (And I wonder if my husband notices.)
I hung a new triptych of sky paintings over our mantle this week. (Actually Steve hung them. I directed.) I have been working on this 40 x 52 project since Christmas. The January weather, with its cold and clouds, had covered me in a literal fog… and brain fog. I didn’t feel motivated or clear about a new direction. So I pulled out my sky photos and decided to use the canvases nearby and just paint for days, off and on, throughout the long month of January. There were a few other paintings going on at the same time, but just things to check off the to-do list. Nothing I felt passionate about painting.
Here are close-up views of some passages of this painting – I paint clouds with Ultramarine Blue, Cadmium Red, Cadmium Yellow Light and Titanium White. There is some Cerulean Blue in the background sky.
It was appropriate that we hung the triptych on Saturday, the 27th of January, because it was the FIRST day of sunshine we had seen in at least seven days! Socked in for a week with steady rain, mud puddles, cold temps, (and I was recovering from a root canal on top of that!)…I was debating whether or not I suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder (it’s a thing) …SADness for sure!
And then… the rain passed on to our friends in the East, the clouds were blown away, the sun came out to dry the mud, and our cows were happy. My spirits were lifted, like the edges of the clouds that drift upward in lacy tendrils. Hope in spring returned to us!
Once again, my painting was therapeutic for myself. I didn’t know the impact, until I saw it on my wall on that sunny Sunday! It had filled days in the studio, as I listened to music, thought about life..and eternity. And, it had soothed my soul to mix paint and pull it around on canvas.
No one likes to listen to a complainer. So, I will move on into spring. Even though we still have to winter the month of February, the clouds hang above our fireplace to remind me that the fog will lift, spirits can soar, and light comes to us, again.
Sunlight filtering through windowsThe paintings “in situ”
After a long, hot Texas Summer of no rain, we (as in the collective, whole county “we”) were thrilled to see the storm clouds of September rolling in. The dark clouds and hailstorms came, but we all were glad to see the parched earth become covered in green again.
Protection 12×24 oil
The water in the tanks, ponds, lakes and streams began to rise and the cattle did not have quite as far to stretch into the mud to obtain a drink. Now in November, Lake Waco is able, after a few years, to supply water to all the households which depend on it.
Provision 12×24 oil
The photo references for these paintings were taken on a walk through our property. Both images were striking enough to make me want to paint them. And as I painted, the titles, Protection and Provision, came to my thoughts
How many times have I used those words, as I prayed for my own or another’s needs? “Lord, grant us Protection and Provision in these days.” Two “P” words that sound poetic, but are packed with power and meaning.
I hope the images speak. The titles speak. But my words will also speak of the Protection of an Almighty God. I see this in a variety of circumstances, in amazing miracles that have happened, and in retrospective realizations as I live through these years. I live in gratitude for the Provision of daily needs, as I continue to trust God. Just when we think the water is as low as it can go, the rains come. We are restored and ready to move ahead.
“From the Ground Up” – implies beginning on ground level,
where the only direction to go is up.
If you have been following my paintings, you will remember I have been painting big Texas skies for a few years. I decided to switch perspective and paint “from the ground up.”
One reason for the theme, From the Ground Up, is an effort to tie Carvings and Canvases together for the next big show. Sculptor Kevin Rackley and I did not know each other before it was suggested that our works might pair together in a duo show. What did we have in common? Artworks, inspired by this beautiful earth on which we live, and a mutual appreciation for the Creator and all that is created “From the Ground Up!”
I’m sure we all have had times when we began a new venture and literally did it “from the ground up.” It can be daunting, and also exciting!
Almost five years ago, my husband and I sold or gave away many of our possessions and loaded a Penske truck to move from Georgia to Texas, in order to be with our Texan son’s family. We bought/built/renovated a home, learned to landscape in the Blackland Prairie, traded our little Prius for an SUV that could handle dirt roads better, made new friends in a new environment, managed to maneuver the road constructions of Waco, constructed an art studio and workshop, and became acquainted with this place we now call “home.” All, from the ground up!
I wondered what this move would mean as I was just getting a good start in Georgia with a second act career of being a full-time artist, after retiring from teaching. I wanted to keep painting, but would need to start afresh with clients and prove my abilities “from the ground up.”
The collection of work in this upcoming show represents the first five years of my painting in Texas. As a plein air painter, I have enjoyed exploring new places and becoming familiar with the western landscape through artist observation. This time, the perspective shifts to the ground and the plants growing from it. Several of these landscapes were painted from my porch (near Mart, TX). Some paintings depict the western environments, seen through recent travels through New Mexico and Arizona. The presence of cows in my paintings are influenced by animals I have made peace with on our property. And the beautiful Texas Skies continue to lift my eyes upward to more heavenly realms.
The show is for you to see and enjoy. But it is also for me, to put a marker on the last five years of painting: my experiences, my communication, my therapy, my artworks.
Don’t you love roadrunners? Because I watched Bugs Bunny in childhood, I am conditioned to laugh when I see one run past me! (beep beep)
But after being in the Saguaro Desert and watching roadrunners saunter by without quite as much enthusiasm, I realize living in the desert is not all fun and games.
This thinking has been magnified as we have had a HOT summer in Central Texas. Those days of over 100 temps have been too many to count. The ground cracks and water becomes precious.
Cracks in the earth are all over our property in early September, after months of no rain.
My mind goes to all the ways we symbolically have “cracks in our earth,” times of what we think is unbearable suffering, times of anguish and spiritual drought. Roadrunners know how to thrive and endure, how to find the food and water they need, how to keep running… do we?
Spiritual drought creeps in slowly. Our minds become overwhelmed with too many problems and we forget where to go to sort it all out. Our lives crack, unless we keep adding the Living Water, keep searching Scriptures, and allowing His Spirit to renew us so that we can continue to thrive, in all circumstances.
Steve and I have been married 45 years! (yikes, I know) And we try to go somewhere special at least every five years. Now that we live on the West side of the Mississippi River, I requested a trip to Sedona, Arizona. Steve was on board so we took a road trip through Arizona and New Mexico in early June.
One of his requests was to go on a jeep ride with Safari Jeep Tours. We chose the one at sunrise to see animals waking up to a new day. Both of us are happy with cameras in our hands!
We barely slept, in order to be there at 4:45 a.m. (yes, you read that right). As it turned out, we were the only ones for the tour and had our guide, Cowboy Bob, all to ourselves. He was a jewel, a rough diamond in a cowboy hat. Bob had lived in the Arizona Mountains all his life and was a wealth of knowledge about plants, animals, the early inhabitants, and local folklore.
As the sun rose over the red rock mountains and brushed the tops with golden sunlight, the scenes were magnificent! We bounced along on the rugged terrain in the crisp morning air, holding onto the open jeep with one hand, and clicking cameras with the other.
Back home, weeks later, with all the photos sorted and stored on my computer, I went to my studio and chose the largest canvas I had (a 30×40). I didn’t really get the perfect photo to use as a reference for a sunrise painting. But this one evolved from several photo references and the memories and emotions of color in our experience.
And that’s the Story Behind this Painting.
This one will be available in From the Ground Up! September 23-November 4, 2023 at the Cultural Activities Center, Temple TX.
Magnolia Trees! As I stood beneath the huge magnolias and breathed the scents of the South in this arboretum, the place took me back to memories in Georgia: the shade of the sturdy leaves that grew low in our Perry, GA yard when my sons were two and four; the trees that gathered around Sweetheart Circle on the GA Southern campus, watching students come and go; the ones that adorned every Southern home of more than fifty years of age in my hometown; and the ones that I saw scattered along I-16 with white blooms beaming in the Georgia sunlight! As I reminisced, not specifically, but with an overall general sweet feeling, I realized that I missed painting magnolias…and hydrangeas…and camellias and azaleas.
And yes, as a matter of fact, I do live near Waco, Texas –home to “Magnolia Silos” and such. But a single magnolia, planted in the yard of a newly renovated home has a long way to go to reach the heights and depths of these ancient magnolias of a more southern latitude.
You have seen me painting cacti and prairie grass and wildflowers in these latter years. And I am loving the varied perspective it brings to an artist to be in a new location. ( Be on the lookout for the next solo show – September 23 – November 4 – in Temple, TX. It is entitled “From the Ground Up!” and the paintings are all Texas inspired!)
This painting was just something I had to get out of my system. A painting of a magnolia, or a seagull on the coast, or a tree covered in Spanish Moss connects me to my roots. And I breathe deep and reminisce.
How I sign my name on a painting and why I sign it this way…
Signatures in the bottom corners of paintings
My handwriting has certainly changed over the years. From the curly cued letters of childhood, through the teen phase of dotting my i with a heart, and into the mixture of capitals and cursives that quickly come from my hand today, the style has changed much.
One reason my signature has changed is that I am often signing with a paintbrush! (Go ahead, try it! It takes some practice.) For that reason, most of my early paintings are signed with a black Sharpie pen. Future generations will look at the paintings and say, “Ah, it’s from her ‘Sharpie Period’ – when she didn’t know how to sign her name with a paintbrush.”
Now, there are two variations of the signature that you might see. If my first and last name is signed, it is a large painting, most likely done in a studio. But when I am painting outside, en plein air, I am in a hurry. The 11×14 canvas or smaller lends itself to a quick “MStokes,” scratched into paint with the tip of a palette knife… if the paint is heavy enough there. When my mother named me, she was thinking more about the melodic sound of the three syllables and the sweetness of Olivia de Havilland’s character in Gone With the Wind, than how long it would take me to write it with a paintbrush!
And here is the inside story of the Story Behind the Paintings — Looking at the signatures, you might notice that the cross piece of the t in Stokes is rather accentuated. I do this purposefully. Crossing the t is the last thing I do in my signature. And when I cross the t, I try to place it higher and wider than the other letters. As I cross the t, I remind myself that I am painting for the God who loves me enough to submit to death on a cross. I am reminded that I am painting through His grace. I am reminded that I belong to Jesus. And that my name needs to reflect His name.
This is the view I see from my porch. I often sit out there, drinking coffee in the mornings when the weather cooperates. For several days I have been noticing the morning sun glinting off of the red horse trailer, surrounded by wild sunflowers against the overgrown summer greens. And even if it is the first day of summer and we are already hitting temps of close to 100, I sat under the porch shade and painted from 9 to 10 a.m.
Yes, I have things I need to get painted in the studio. But, this morning, painting en plein air became the priority. While I painted, I listened to the birds sing, felt the warmth of sunshine, and even detected a coyote pup barking somewhere in the brush. All of this was necessary to remind me of why I paint what I paint. A snippet of time, an hour actually, was recorded with colors of paint and a variety of textures to proclaim beauty, and wonder, and miracles that grow from seeds. And I never tire of examining and marveling at it – this natural world in which we live.
