Palette Knife Oil Painting


The Carport
5" x 7"
Oil on canvas panel


Third one in the series. This one speaks to me of loneliness, waiting, expectation. I like the emotional weight of the piece.

My husband calls them the "beach houses," and that certainly works; but for me, I think of them as suburbia. Those endless cheery blue skies, the pitiless uniformity of the houses and the loneliness, waiting, and expectation.

These building portraits interest me and I'll definitely do more of them.

I'll post the last one in this series tomorrow.



Comments

Post a Comment

Thanks for visiting and commenting!

Popular posts from this blog

Solo Show

I've got a solo show coming up in January 2013 at Abend Gallery in Denver. I'll post the exact dates as soon as they are nailed down. Abend has represented my oil paintings for a few years now and I'm delighted to have the opportunity to show my newest work there. That means that posting here might get much more sporadic over the next six months. These little ones are the things I make between paintings or as part of my daily practice. They aren't for commercial purposes per se, but I love them nonetheless. Hopefully in the rush to complete my main work, I'll still get time to post here. If you are interested to see my main work, here's the link to my portfolio website, click here .
Read more

End of May - Acrylic Monotype

Image
Hmmm...I'm not wild about this one. In fact, the more I look at it, the more blech it gets. I'll leave it up as it's a good kick in the ribs to not do it again. Onwards. End of May Acrylic monotype Mounted on 8" x 8" Stonehenge paper
Read more

How to Lose Your Leaves and Survive the Winter

Image
Notation 2 Mixed media collage Painted rice paper, graphite, cold wax on archival paper Image size: 2.5" x 3.5" :: reminds me of winter aspens These little notations keep me honest. They are somewhat compulsive as I need to make things -- almost addictively. Sometimes, I have to force myself to post them them as I recognize that they are perhaps, not great art. That's okay. Over the years, I've worked hard to make good paintings, market them professionally, get that pat on the head through sales and increasing recognition. That has happened and I am delighted -- but I lost something of myself along the way. Did you know that I have quite the wicked (raunchy at times) sense of humor? No? Did you know that I'm almost paralyzed by shyness and fear of rejection at art shows and it takes every ounce of my being to show up at one? No? Does anyone know how passionate I am about tiny poetry; making the perfect borscht; snow? The answer will be, almost universally, no. Wh...
Read more