Continuing with Lilties

In this grief journey, I knew the holidays were going to be hard without Paul, and while it was such a different, almost surreal time, we did have wonderful family times together celebrating this season. But I hadn’t anticipated that it would be so hard to move into this new year. The realization that I could no longer say I just lost Paul, but now had to say, I lost Paul last year was heartwrenching. It felt like I was effectively leaving him behind and moving forward without him. But time doesn’t stop for the grief. Life goes on. And I’m continuing to be amazed and so grateful for the many blessings God brings into my life. 

On this path, I’m continuing to paint the small Liltie artworks. These two 4x6 original watercolors are titled: “Two by Two” and “Blue Paddle.”  

Into a New Year

January is a perfect time for painting. Working on a collection of “lilties” - those small watercolor paintings celebrating the things that speak to my heart. These are titled: “Soft Light” and “Camp View.” See more at wildriverarts.com or check out my artwork at the Stillwater Art Gallery in historic Stillwater Minnesota. 

Closing of a Chapter

It seems fitting that in this season of grief, it is also a time of recognizing closures. So it is with sadness that I announce that I’ll be closing out my collection of original watercolors at the Plum Bottom Gallery in Door County. It’s been a wonderful partnership – the staff at each of these four gallery spaces are so exceptional and it’s been a joy to work with them all. I’ll be picking up my paintings in mid-December, and if you are interested, it’s a great time to take advantage of their current free shipping offer.

A heartfelt thank you to all who have purchased my artwork through Plum Bottom Gallery over the past five years. I so appreciate your support and kind encouragement! And I will always remember and treasure this time of working full-time on art with my late husband and incredible framer, Paul. We serve a faithful God, and I rest assured that new directions are opening even in this time of transition. Wishing you all a blessed Thanksgiving.

Coming Back: Golden Hour and Heather Haze

It’s been a long time since I wrote in this space – five and a half months to be exact. It's taken me this long to feel like I can gather my thoughts, allow my spirit to breathe creativity, and return to making art. It’s an ongoing journey – this difficult and unpredictable path through deep grief. Some days and some moments are better than others. While it’s not encouraging to realize that my heart will never truly recover – Paul was such a deep essential part of my being – yet I’m grateful that my mind is beginning to heal from the overwhelming fog of grief and I’m beginning to feel a rhythm of forward movement. I’m finding it’s essential to have a daily structure – even if it needs to be flexible because I may not be coherent until about 10 or 11 some mornings. And I'm continually so grateful for the ongoing support, concern and love of our family, dear friends and wondful faith community. 

So I return to what I love best. Sheep are a constant with me and these Irish free grazers take on unique perspectives depending on the flow of the watercolor paint, pigment hues and the fusing between the brush and the paper. These two lilties, 4” x 6” watercolor paintings are titled Heather Haze and The Golden Hour. 

 

Moor Springtime

One of my favorite memories will always be of glimpsing sheep roaming the hills, moors, beaches and roadways throughout the western coastal counties of Ireland. It’s been a few years since we’ve been able to travel there, but in my mind’s eye, I can still see these free-grazers standing their ground or running with their specific “gang.” And no place was sacred – they easily navigated church cemeteries as well marched confidently down the main streets of small villages.

This week’s painting is another Liltie – Moor Springtime, 4” x 6” (framed with double matte is 8” x 10”) captures a mama ewe and her lamb high on the Irish moorland.

Coneflowers

I'm working to prepare a delivery of paintings for later in April to the Plum Bottom Gallery in Door County, WI. It’s been a busy winter for the galleries and I’m planning to have 13 to 15 new watercolors ready for this delivery. It’s always fun to take the roadtrip to one of the prettiest spots in Wisconsin and a delight to meet with the team in the galleries at Egg Harbor (farm location), Egg Harbor-Main Street, Fish Creek and now in Sturgeon Bay!

This week’s focus is on painting Lilties – and Summer Sunshine, 4” x 6” watercolor, is a favorite close-up of beautiful Coneflower blossoms.

Back to the Lilties: Flying Free

It’s March, and we are already experiencing the wild ride of this month! Last week, we had a few days of gloriously warm spring weather, followed by two days of blizzard conditions with 12” of heavy snow, and then today, it’s warm spring weather with snow melting off the roof. And so it begins . . . the wide fluctuations of temps, the start of Lent this week, Daylight Savings Time returning on Sunday . . , and slowly, but surely we are on the march into Spring.

And it’s the time of spring activities for the grands – High School plays (Music Man and Buckshot and Blossoms), baseball season for four families, and the football season for our Arizona clan. We are so looking forward to enjoying this season!

This week’s painting is a Liltie (4” x 6” on 300 lb. watercolor paper), and Flying Free is another study of the patterns of birds in this area. It is a such an incredible sight and a cacophony of sounds as the birds rise up off the lakes and ponds and take flight. We are blessed to be surrounded by nature and I’m so grateful for all of it!

February Light

And just like that, February sweeps in with increasing daylight! It is a daily reminder to be thankful for the small things and having daylight until after 5:30 p.m. seems to be one of those gifts! It has been a year of health issues for both Paul and me. After a few days of fighting what seemed to be a head cold, Paul finally went to the doctor for shortness of breath and possible pneumonia. Although he had none of the usual signs of heart distress, we were shocked to learn that he had serious heart blockage and now has three stents. We are so grateful – for quick-responding and skilled medical teams, incredible improvements in heart diagnosis and treatments, faithful and supportive prayer partners, and most of all – that Paul is improving every day and able to move forward. While it’s been a season of challenges, we are thankful for renewed health and working on positive lifestyle changes. As you can imagine, Paul is so excited and thriving all those yummy veggies and leafy greens!

I’m working to integrate some new techniques into my painting style, and for this week’s painting, I went back to one of my favorite scenes. For the painting, Grand Marais Light, 10” x 13”, I chose 300 lb. Arches Hot Press watercolor paper. This paper is much more sensitive to paint saturation and absorption, so I used Silver Black Velvet brushes, limited my palette colors and let each layer dry completely before adding the next layer. It’s a joy to work in watercolor because there is always something new to learn!

January musings

In spite of having a birthday in this month, January in the north country is always incredibly long. It’s typically a time of snow, blizzards, bitter cold weather and incredibly short days – starting about 3:30 p.m. early in the month. It’s no secret that I’ve been known to have my pjs on and the electric blanket on the bed turned on 6 by p.m. on terribly cold days! And all this can be especially hard on those of us gardeners who watch with disbelief as other regions talk about preparing to plant in February or March and we know there are at least 100 days before the ground thaws in our neck of the woods!

Yet it’s a wonderful time to be in my studio and paint. This week’s painting, Night Woods, 11” x 13” on 300 hot press watercolor paper, captures a favorite subject o’ mine – paper birch trees reflected against the closing down of the light in a deep woods.  

 

Keeping Watch

It’s the season for rejoicing, and we have so much to be thankful for. It has been a year of difficult challenges, yet we are here – with hot water for showers, warm clothes and house, loving family and friends, soft snowflakes falling outside and hearts rejoicing in God’s grace.

And good health. After months of struggling with double vision and shortness of breath, I’m so grateful that through medical expertise and God’s healing, I have renewed stamina and restored eyesight. It’s an ongoing journey, but what an incredible gift! And so grateful to Paul who took a sabbatical from his work to provide care and drive me all over! Special gratitude to all the family and faith partners who continue to walk with us and pray fervently. We feel so blessed to be part of a tremendous support community.

This week’s painting is our Christmas card to you.  During our travels to Ireland, we were captivated by the free-grazing sheep. And in considering the sheep on the hills surrounding Bethlehem on that night long ago, I think they were kin to the free-roaming flocks found on the rugged coastline along the Wild Atlantic Way. Wild, unkempt, coyote-savvy and yet somehow aware and perhaps anticipating the announcement of the angels ~ “a Savior is born, the Messiah and Lord ~ and the babe is wrapped in cloth, lying in a manger.” This watercolor painting, Keeping Watch, captures a band of free-grazers high on the Irish moorlands. We wish you a joyous Christmas and New Year!  

Part of the Process

Our family had four precious, pivotal days in Regions Hospital with my dad before he died. It was a defining moment for us – both as a family unit and as individuals. During the 10 years since, we have shared many memories of that time – sweet stories and devastating moments – all in the final watch over our beloved dad, grandfather, great-grandfather and friend to many.  One of the overwhelming messages we received from the medical team was – pay attention to the process. It seems simplistic, but that is what those critical days encompassed – we were bystanders, waiting and watching as the process unfolded. And we will be forever grateful for the compassion and skilled care of the trauma team who gently cared for my dad, and all the while helped us prepare to let him go.

And today, I’m reminded again of the importance of allowing the process to unfold. In moving through recovery from my condition, I’m beginning to realize progress, but the process seems slow. I’m ready to be “back to normal” and yet, I’m not there. It can be frustrating, but at every turn I’m reminded that I have so much to be grateful for – grateful for caring providers, for a viable treatment plan and proven medicine - and so grateful for the loving support, encouragement, prayers and kindness of those around me. It makes all the difference!

Today’s painting is a reflection of another incredible process – from starting new gardens in May to watching the garden grow and thrive in this season. August Beauty, 10” x 13” on 300-lb. cold watercolor paper, captures a happy, white coneflower, which now in mid-October, is continuing to bloom outside my front door. What a blessing!

 

Taking Flight

It has been a wonderful summer; yet it has been one of my most challenging summers. In late April, I got vertigo, and shortly after recovering from that, I woke up one morning with double vision. From there, it has been a complicated and frustrating healthcare journey through medical doctor, optometrist, ophthalmologists and next week, I’ll see a neurologist. The good news is that both eyes are working fine on their own; the bad news is that they don’t track together. So I’ve developed a system of six pairs of glasses with a blocking shade on the appropriate lens – two for reading, two for long view, and two for sunglasses – and I can be seen trading them out often throughout the day. But I need to share a most extraordinary “Godwink” that happened a few weeks ago – after an exam by a top ophthalmologist specializing in nerve and double vision issues. While I don't qualify for surgery or any other therapies, his tentative diagnosis was that my symptoms seemed to align with a condition called myasthenia gravis. If this is confirmed by the neurologist, there may be medication to treat this condition. As I was leaving his office, one of my dear prayer partners, Leslie, texted to say she had a friend who was going to call me. (I hadn’t shared with her the possible diagnosis.) The next call was from a woman named Joan who started the conversation by saying “Deb, I understand from Leslie that you are struggling with double vision. I wanted to call and share my story with you. I think you may be on a similar journey. When I was in my early 70’s, my husband and I were serving a church in Upper Michigan, and I woke up one morning with double vision. After three years of frustration and visiting doctor after doctor, we moved to the Twin Cities to be near our children, and I was finally diagnosed by a neuro-ophthalmologist with myasthenia gravis. He prescribed medication which I took for about three weeks, and when I woke up that morning, my eyesight was completely restored. I’m now in my 80’s and my eyesight is fine.” I was totally flabbergasted at what I was hearing, and at the same time, joy was beginning to replace the disappointment that had been in my spirit. Joan continued: “How many doctors have you seen?” When I responded, “Four, and going to a neurologist in September,” Joan continued: “Then you are absolutely at the right place in your journey. I’m calling to encourage you and tell you that there is hope.” Isn’t that amazing? God shows up in the microscopic details of our lives, and through the kind act of a stranger, He delivered a message of hope to me. In Joan’s act of reaching out, we quickly moved from strangers to kindred spirits – bound together by shared experiences and our shared faith that God will indeed keep his promise for good in our lives. I’m so grateful for Paul, supportive family and friends, and for incredible surprises of joy. We walk in hope.

During this journey, it’s most fun for me to paint the Lilties – those small watercolors. And this time of year, it’s been glorious to watch the Sandhill cranes, geese and small birds gathering and practicing for their journey south. This week’s painting, Taking Flight, a 4” x 6” watercolor, captures a gaggle of geese lifting up from the lake.

Back to the river!

It’s the middle of August, and it seems like the summer has just whooshed by. But I’m so enjoying the dip in the intensity of sunlight and the softer humidity that begins to signal Fall. And I’m getting ready to deliver a collection of my latest original watercolors to Plum Bottom Gallery in Door County later in September. It seems a good time to paint Lilties. This week’s painting, Around the Bend, is a 4” x 6” watercolor, and captures a bend in a quiet river. 

Settled at last

It’s been a few months since I wrote in this blog, and so much has happened in the meantime. In March, we moved and are so grateful for family and dear friends who helped us transition to this wonderful new place. Through the myriad of new home projects, we met wonderful people – professionals who stepped in to do the essential updates in a 30-year one-owner home – and Bob and his crew from Angel Hands in Frederic who helped us let go of stuff (it’s astonishing how much we had accumulated!) and to know that it was going to help a terrific cause – the organization supports several halfway houses in NW Wisconsin.   

But now the dust has settled, the gardens are planted and in full bloom, and my new painting space is set up! It feels so good to be back painting on a regular basis. This week’s painting, Morning Light, an 8” x 11” watercolor, reflects the sunrise from a quiet shoreline.

Remembering Dad

A  few weeks ago, a group photo appeared on the Marine on St. Croix FB page, and I immediately knew I’d like to paint it. It captured my Dad at one of his favorite activities – gathered with the guys, I think this may be part of the Mayhem group, at one of his favorite spots, the Marine Landing. A sunny morning with  pontoons floating on the quiet river. It’s a timeless view and so precious to me. After my Mom’s funeral in August, owners Meg and Mike Zajac graciously opened the deck and restaurant to our family to share a meal and remember the joyful times with Mom and Dad. It will always be a special place for us.

This week's painting is a reflection of that special photo. It’s my first time of painting a group of people, and my apologies if not everyone gathered in the photo made it into the painting. This one’s not for sale – it will go in a special place somewhere in our new home – as a reminder of wonderful times gathered with family and dear friends at this same spot. Marine Mayhem: Remembering Dad, 9” x 12” on 300 lb. hot press watercolor paper, captures a snapshot of a wonderful gathering on a summer day. 

In Transition

After 10 years in this beautiful place in northwestern Wisconsin, we are preparing to transition to a new home. This has been a wonderful space for us – plenty of projects (rejuvenating a neglected cabin into our full-time home) with room for family gatherings, creating gardens edged with awesome rocks, and lovely days spent on the lake with family and friends puttering around in my Dad’s beloved pontoon. However, there is a time and season for everything, and to our surprise, this is the time to move on. Through all the years of caring for my Mom and driving almost daily the 150-mile round trip to Stillwater, we looked for something closer, but nothing opened up for us. And we were throwing straws up in all directions to no avail. But we are firm believers that things happen in God’s time, not ours. My dear Mom died in July and the immediate urgency to move passed. So we were totally caught off-guard when unexpected events led us to the open door of our new place.  And we continue to be amazed at how quickly things are moving forward in this adventure. I’m reminded again, “God has a plan for good.”

This week’s painting is one of my new favorites - Bedding Down is an 11” x 15” on 300 lb. hot press watercolor paper. I love the way the paint fused with the paper and a wash of New Gamboge gave it a wonderful sense of vintage texture.

Argyle Zebra Community Gallery

I’m honored to be accepted as an artist for the upcoming exhibit, Collective ALCHEMY l, at the Argyle Zebra Community Gallery in St. Paul, Minnesota. The exhibit opens on Saturday, January 13 and runs through Saturday, March 24, 2024. My juried artwork, “Moonlight Birches,” 9” x 13” watercolor, will be on display throughout the exhibit. An Artists Reception is scheduled for Saturday, February 24, 2024, from 5-8 p.m. For more information, see www.theazgallery.org.

The Big Lake

It seemed the perfect day to paint a “liltie” and this week’s painting is Hollow Rock, 4” x 6” on 300 lb. watercolor paper, I love the energy of the sky and the reflections in the water. 

New Year Reflections

Sometimes “traditions” need to be put aside in order to meet and greet what’s ahead in our lives. As our grown children move into new phases with their own children, we’ve found it’s essential to be flexible and try to meet them where they are. At least for our family, it’s not realistic for us to assume that we can all gather on one day, in one house around a big table.  This year, Christmas came several times for us – one on Christmas Eve, with two of our families, after a lovely church service and with a delicious meal of take-out Chinese; another  at a halfway-point restaurant in St. Cloud to enjoy a meal with our family in from Arizona;  and then  on  December 30 with tacos and fixings and the opening of presents at our daughter’s  boyfriend’s home.  And we’ll have one more celebration this weekend with our dear family who just came home after two weeks in the hospital with their oldest daughter. Life is dynamic and we are just so thankful for the joyous times when we can be together.

This week’s painting is back to the sheep – these three came charging around a stone wall and I just had to paint them. “Sheep on the Run” – 9” x 9” on 300 lb. hot prese watercolor paper. I enjoy painting on this “smoother” paper – the paint is absorbed differently and it really encourages a looser  brush style (not my usual MO) and results in softer edges.

Close of 2023

It's officially New Year’s Eve and at this point in the evening, we aren’t making any promises about seeing the new year in tonight. We are recovering from icky colds, so we can actually fall asleep just by sitting in the big recliners! Yet In spite of the losses and sadnesses of this year, we are looking with hope to this new year. God is faithful and we are holding on to His promises for good in our lives. We have been tremendously blessed with good health, loving family and friends, and meaningful work. We are so thankful!

After an odd December of balmy weather – temps in the 40’s and no snow – we had a spot of snow overnight and are anticipating much more in the days to come. January is known for blizzards in northern Wisconsin. It seemed like a good week to use my new tube of American Journey Peacock Blue and be inspired by a couple of Jan Swart (janswartphotography.com) birch trees. Birches in Blue, 10” x 13” on 300 lb. hot press watercolor paper, captures the bright morning light and beautiful aqua-blue reflections of the water and light on birch trees.