Ellie Harold Fine Art

2011-12-28T12:02:00.002-05:00

I'm no longer using this blog. If you'd like to see what's up with me and my work, go to www.EllieHarold.com. Thanks for checking in!

Ellie

2011-01-18T21:36:00.003-05:00

"Morning at Sun Bay" (Vieques, PR)

16' x 20" oil/canvas

Back in the Caribbean after an 8 month absence, not much has changed. A few heavy rains washed away some favorite palms, but left this sea grape tree, with its gnarly roots, anchored in the sand.

It's been a challenge switching from snow-appreciation in Michigan to dealing with no-see-ums if I linger to catch the afternoon light at the beach. It's a tough life, but someone's got to do it, right?

2010-12-29T09:26:00.005-05:00

"Palm Presence" 30" x 30" oil/canvas $2200
My Choice: Painting of the Year 2010

Happy Old Year! Yes, that's what I'm proclaiming this last week of 2010. Sure, there have been challenges: Big ones! Lousy ones! Expensive ones! Still, in the realm of What Really Matters, this has been a year of great success. Will you join me for a moment in celebrating a few accomplishments you helped make possible?

1. Giving. When the earthquake in Haiti occurred I didn't have much cash to send to help with relief efforts. Then the idea came to hold a benefit Open Studio. Generous patrons of my work on Vieques helped me raise $1000 for Partners in Health. The Vieques Humane Society also auctioned one of my paintings and so did the Navy League. Very cool! It's a good feeling to put my gifts in a position to gift others.

2. Galleries. Thanks to shows given by Terri Haugen, at her Les Sirenes Galerie D'Art in Frankfort, MI and Craig Bell, at the WARD Gallery in Petoskey, MI, my work has received wide exposure in Northern Michigan, my new home.

3. Teaching. I loved all the teaching opportunities I was offered in 2010. Private and small group lessons for eager students in Vieques gave me the opportunity to develop a sure-fire way to show beginning plein air oil painters how to get going. Then, the Crystal Lake Art Center in Frankfort, brought me another group of wonderful students. I gave one workshop and taught a 4-week plein air oil painting class. We traveled to nearby beaches and farmsteads to paint the Michigan landscape. Heaven!

4. Painting, painting and more painting. 2010 was a tremendous year for quality time behind the easel. 4 months in Vieques, followed by a long outdoor painting season in Michigan that lasted well into October. I painted in my new (as yet unfinished) studio as well -- larger, semi-abstract work -- that gave me the chance to really push design and colors. Lots of paintings -- see them now in the various galleries above and on my website.

5. Recognition! “The island works of talented landscape painter Ellie Harold … are some of the most evocative of their kind on Vieques.” John Marino, Frommer’s: Puerto Rico (2010). This mini-review was fun to find whilst Googling along one day. Also appreciated was the honor of curating and judging the 6-County Juried Show of the Crystal Lake Art Center.

6. Sales! Last and certainly not least, in 2010 I've sold upwards of 40 paintings in 2010! And this in an environment about which many people say, "No one is buying." Well, someone did -- you did -- and this is terrific! Success isn't always about making a sale; it means lot more to an artist than income when a painting sells. There's tremendous satisfaction in having work appeal to a viewer so much that they want to own it. I work hard to put my work in front of people who I believe will appreciate and buy it, as sales allow me to continue to develop myself as an artist and realize further the gifts I have yet to give. I've posted "Palm Presence" as my choice of Painting of the Year -- it could be yours! Send me an email (eharold@aol.com) and let me know your choice.

I'm looking forward to 2011 and will keep you posted about my artistic goals for the New Year. For now, however, I want to know I am deeply grateful for your interest, support and patronage in 2010. I love that you take the time to read these newsletters and give me your feedback. It helps me feel connected to you and gives me hope for what we each create day by day.

With great appreciation for you and all the gifts I've been given,
Ellie

Ellie Harold Fine Art | P.O. Box 1087 | Frankfort, MI 49635 | USA

2010-12-22T10:22:00.005-05:00

"Winter Scene"
20" x 20" oil/canvas
$1375

I've neglected to post to this blog for many months. My e-newsletter is easier to use so I do. Still, for those who want to check in with my work this way, here's my latest painting. This scene is in the alley in back of the apartment where we're living while our house (across the street) is being renovated.

It started snowing here in Frankfort on December 2. What a difference to the landscape the fluffy white stuff makes. I love it! I've not yet made it our for a plein air session -- too cold! -- so I've used photo references and the view out of my tiny studio window.

This winter wonderland makes the Solstice and Christmas seem all the more seasonal here. It's a dream come true for this Elfie-one. I hope you and yours are snug and warm, enjoying making meaning of this time of year for yourself.

Ellie

PS I have a few 2011 calendars left: "Up North" and "Vieques." Go to www.EllieHarold.com to order using PayPal or other means.

2010-08-02T08:43:00.004-04:00

"Michigan Morning"

20" x 20" oil on canvas

$1375

What Really Matters in Creating Art

A quick note to check in after my wonderful show at Les Sirenes in Frankfort: I received some great publicity in the local newspaper and enjoyed a very good turnout for the opening. So much goes on during the two-month summer season here, it means a lot when people choose to attend your event! I was very pleased to see a red dot on a painting when I walked through the gallery door. A pre-show sale is always welcome! Several other sales, including one of the large show piece, "Summer's Day," just before I returned from a trip to Atlanta, qualified the show for me as a successful effort.

While sales are one measure of success, they certainly aren't the only one. The first and, perhaps, most important one is my own satisfaction with the work. Given my (self-admitted) history as a co-dependent personality, that's saying a lot! But, seriously, I paint to receive the gift the painting comes to bring, much as I enjoy speaking to hear what comes out of my mouth.

Lest you imagine me a total narcissist (instead of a partial one), this is how I experience Something More -- God, the higher self -- or whatever you choose to call a power greater than the everyday, ordinary self. Some people pray and meditate, I paint and speak. When I "get" the sweet delight of what's been given through the artwork, I'm nourished from the inside out. Then, when someone else appreciates what I do, it's simply delicious icing on the cake. (And, when they make a purchase or otherwise claim the value in what I do, that's good too.)

There's no resting on laurels for me, however; it seems I'm always getting to make fresh starts. Just back from a two-week ordeal of moving house in the incredible heat of a Georgia summer, I was eager to see what I'd paint after "Fresh Light." Well -- surprise -- it turned out to be more fresh light! One of the attractions of where I now live is the Lake Michigan shore that's four blocks away. There's a spot where I can stand in the shade and see dunes and deciduous trees and water, three favorite landscape elements. People walk by and add their two cents. I love it!

Last Friday's result was "Michigan Morning." It has an almost photographic quality even though it's painted loosely and without much detail. I was pleased with it, and I hope through it you'll enjoy a bit of Michigan summer too. Let me know what you think!

2010-06-12T14:16:00.002-04:00

Getting Clear

20" x 20" oil/canvas

WIN-WIN at CLAC

This week I facilitated my first painting workshop at the Crystal Lake Art Center (CLAC). Offered to beginning plein air painters, we discussed the challenges of painting outdoors, the need for reliable and streamlined equipment and how to begin a painting that you know you’ll only have 2-3 hours to complete.

I prepped for the workshop by taking spending a session on the beach here in Frankfort, MI the morning before. The last of a heavy fog was drifting out over the lake; the morning light kissed the trees and small dunes. Shown above, this painting conveys a sense of the soft light and serenity of this spot and so many like it along the shore of Lake Michigan.

Live demonstrations form an important part of a painting workshop. It’s not always what you can say about the painting process so much as what you can show your students that helps them learn. It’s a great opportunity for me, an easy talker, to doing some “walking” with my brush in hand. For this workshop, I made a painting based on the piece above. Then the students made their own demos based on this or another of my plein air paintings I had on display.

I love teaching the eager students you often find in painting circles. Like sponges soaking up information, they’re grateful for and appreciative of clues I can offer that help them express their artistic desires. (They did some really nice work too.) I come away from such workshops feeling valued for what I am able to share of my experience and gifts. What a win-win!

With warmest regards,

Ellie

PS I’ll be opening a show of my recent work at Les Sirenes Galerie D’Art at 338 Main Street in Frankfort on July 8. I met the owner, Terri Haugen, last summer as I was embarking on my Artist In Residence adventure at Sleeping Bear Dunes. (Her nationally acclaimed batik work is really amazing.) The reception is from 7:00 to 9:00 p.m. The exhibit will continue through July 21. I hope to see you there and, please, bring a friend.

2010-05-04T22:12:00.005-04:00

Welcome Spring

12" x 12" oil on canvas

Michigan -- A New Home

I arrived in Frankfort about a week and a half ago. I'd flown from Vieques to Atlanta, then Roo flew down and we drove back here together. We're living in an apartment on Main Street, across the street from the house we're renovating. It's great to be here. For one thing, it's cool; for another, there are no mosquitoes or roosters. Plenty of friendly folks, however, and miles of beautiful landscape

Where to paint first? Always a tough decision for me. But first I had to dig out of storage my equipment from last October when we left for the winter. Whew! I found a blue, a red and a yellow and a small tube of white. Enough to get started. Off to Treat Farm at Sleeping Bear Dunes. I'd heard the woods were full of trillium, I had to see them. Sure enough, the white flowers on either side of the trail from Tweddle Farm blanketed the wooded dunes. I headed on to the meadow beyond, though. I wanted to paint the farmhouse.

Sheltering in the shade of a small pine tree, I set up my easel and squeezed out my paint. Except the cap on the tube of yellow I'd brought along wouldn't budge. And it was very chilly. As my winter duds had been stolen in the burglary back in Georgia, I'd layered up as best I could, but it wasn't enough to protect me from a stiff breeze off Lake Michigan. Undaunted, I scraped as much yellow as I could from under a dried pile from last year. Tough going painting that brilliant sunlit forsythia in front of the house. Like many first drafts, this plein sketch was sent to the bottom of the pile.

On the way back to my car, I spied the friendly pair in the painting above. Next time I was free to paint, I made sure all the caps would unscrew. The yellow leapt from my brush onto that bush. "Welcome Spring" -- I'll count this as my first keeper of the season, the painting that welcomes me back to Michigan to my new home.

2010-03-17T09:34:00.007-04:00

Media Luna Rocks

8" x 10" oil/canvas

Vieques Wall

12" x 12" oil/gessoed paper

The Paradise Trap

It's been a difficult winter here on the island of Vieques, my home away from home. Sure, I know better than to try to garner sympathy from anyone who hasn't had their shot at the tropics this season. But, still, life in Paradise has its ups and downs:

1. Ripoffs. This year has seen the island community rocked by the news that a well-loved member had embezzled half a million dollars from a local charity and "borrowed" a similar amount from friends. In other news ... Local break-ins upset the mango cart over at my siblings house around the corner. Also, the battery was taken from my car ten feet was where I was eating dinner. One friend has had the gas siphoned from her car repeatedly. Major robbery in my house in Atlanta, described in a previous post, has contributed to my personal weird winter.

2. Weather. The usual reason for being here, the weather this winter has been terrible. First, a lot more rain than usual. (We woke up Christmas morning to an inch of water in my studio -- Santa's meager offerings all swamped.) Now it's about 10 degrees hotter than normal and very humid. The typically everpresent Tradewinds seem to be holding their breath. Great weather if you're a mosquito! (P.S. There's no A/C.)

3. Grumpiness. Everyone is struggling with negativity. Perhaps due to #s 1 and 2, and also helped along by a potent bug (not a mosquito) that's laid up in bed a good percentage of us, it's hard to be positive when you're snorting and snuffling and really hot, due to fever and weather.

I've been here for months now. I could definitely go on. And on.

Job's tribulations come to mind. "Why me, Lord?" My friend Eileen and I both found ourselves comparing this place to a concentration camp, calling upon the spirit of Viktor Frankl to help make sense of it all. Really -- the winter's felt that weird!

Of course, the island's hardships seem more unfair because they're set in the context of the vacationers' expectation that "Life's a beach." If you're here for more than a couple of weeks, or own property here, you're more likely to be grumbling that "Life's a ----- (the other "b" word)," regardless of how much you loved the place when you first set foot upon it.

In reality, Vieques is just a place on earth. A place to live. A place to be. A place to paint. Is it perfect? No! Is it Paradise? Definitely not! Should it be? Only in a world of wishful thinking or gringo romance fiction. To believe otherwise is to struggle in a trap of disappointment and discouragement.

But wait, there's more:

As I write this, it's about to rain again. In tune with the way of things this winter, I just washed my sheets and hung them out to dry. Nevertheless, I've posted a few images of paintings done in the midst of the weirdness. Painting gets me out of small whiny self; it's one way to spring the Paradise Trap and find true freedom.

2010-03-03T19:34:00.004-05:00

"The Long View"

12" x 16"

oil/linen panel

The Long View

The house we're leaving in the Atlanta area was robbed in a major way this weekend. A car, lawn tractor, our computers, papers, a cherished heirloom cuckoo clock, even the realtor's lock box -- all gone. There's a sense of violation, for sure; no one wants other people to take their stuff without permission. Yet, I have a strong sense that what's no longer in our possession is just that -- stuff. What matters most to me -- my loved ones and my artwork -- were essentially untouched.

When the reports of what was stolen started heading my way, I was most relieved to hear that the thieves were not art appreciators. For once I'm happy my paintings didn't fly off the walls. But, you know, even if they had, I would still retain the benefit of having painted them. Art is not stuff, it's a process and a way of life. There's always more art to be created, a new way to see familiar things.

This winter I've loved painting at Red Beach out on the old Navy base here in Vieques. They closed the road there in the middle of January, much to my dismay. I so wanted to bring my new painting students to this lovely and comfortable spot. Last week the paving project was completed and the road reopened; I was there in a flash, painting "The Long View." Elsewhere, professionals were plotting their plunder of our home. But while they might have gotten some good loot, I've no doubt the payoff for my work is a great deal more satisfying.

I've composed many of this winter's Red Beach to show the strip of the land on the western side of the crescent that forms the beach. It's a fair distance from the shore; you could swim to it but then you'd be too close to appreciate it properly. In my opinion, it's a vista best viewed from a distance. Kind of like life. Close up there are many snags and crags; in the long view, however, you see that there's much light in unexpected places.

2010-02-02T09:13:00.003-05:00

Illumination

5" x 7"

oil on canvas

$500 (Until Feb. 14, 2010, $250 to Partners In Health for Haiti Relief)

How I Make My Living

This week I received a letter from President Obama congratulating me for having been awarded the President’s Volunteer Service Award. Included with the letter were two certificates – one for the Award and the other an acknowledgement from the National Park Service for 200 volunteer hours.

All of this came as a surprise to me. Who knew being given the opportunity to live in a picturesque, historic farmhouse in the middle of Sleeping Bear Dunes would result in such accolades? Having been chosen among many national applicants was honor enough for me. Plus, I had the time of my life painting in this gorgeous landscape. I worked hard. I aimed to give as good as I got and had a number of satisfactory paintings to show for it.

The President’s letter came after a busy week in which I held an Open Studio in my Vieques, PR location. I displayed my new work with recession pricing and a promise to donate 50% of proceeds to Partners In Heath for Haiti disaster medical relief. Lots of folks came and I’ve written a check for $1000 for the cause.

In addition to my portion of the sales, I not only had the satisfaction of showing my paintings to an admiring audience but also picked up some new art students. In fact, I’m starting to teach a lot!

It’s a good thing too. I learn a lot by articulating what I’ve learned from 7 years of painting hundreds of canvases. And my students have the opportunity to understand the work of art. After her lesson yesterday, one of them exclaimed -– as the realization was striking her for the first time – “You do this for your living, don’t you?!”

Most artists will tell you that they must make art. It’s not an option; it’s an obligation, albeit a sweet one. We paint because it’s our job, our employment in a universal sense of the word. We work to give our perception of beauty to the world.

But it’s work, not simply “fun”, to make art. Granted, it’s enjoyable work. But it is work nonetheless. At the end of the day, I am tired just like anyone else who puts in a day’s labor.

Work begs some form of compensation. For artists, this often comes in the form of the appreciative “ooohs and aaahs.” For some there are certificates of merit. And, yes -- the form of compensation that tends to be of greatest use - necessary funds. Artists first do what they must but working artists definitely aspire to be paid for at least some of what they accomplish.

Once I was asked how long it took me to complete a particular piece that was priced at $1000. As I seem to be incapable of deception (and have a certain pride in my ability to paint quickly), I told him about 4 hours. He walked off in a huff, after letting me know I was "lucky" to charge $250/hour for having fun using my God-given talent. Of course, he had no idea of the amount of time that went into preparing to make that painting. Or of the number of perfectly wonderful paintings I’d make (including that one) that would take several years to sell. It’s tough to get folks to understand that artists want to eat too.

(I made a lot more money as a minister depending on the donations of my congregants! People would pay $125/hour for my mentoring services! Some were mad at me when I stopped speaking publicly – it was my choice to stop earning money in that way.)

I’m sensing that more reliable income may be generated by teaching than selling, at least at this stage in my art career. Art is still considered a luxury for many people and in a tight economy, many will forgo the pleasure of a painting. However, I still eat food that costs money.

No matter. On behalf of my paintings, I try not to take it personally that all of my beauties don’t sell immediately, that people find it easier to pay me for my words than these images. I’m willing to start afresh -- I love teaching art almost as much as painting. Both are how I live now and how I make my living. And, regardless of the rewards, it turns out the real living is in the giving. That thousand bucks is going to buy a lot of medicine in Haiti.

2010-01-19T12:20:00.006-05:00

Sun Bay Fireworks

8" x 8" oil on paper

$275 (was $425)

$ 137.50 goes to Partners in Health

Raising Relief $ by Lowering Painting Prices

My announcement that I am devoting 50% of my painting sales did not result in a flurry of phone calls from interested parties. I understand. These are tough economic times and a painting is often considered a luxury item. Better, perhaps, send whatever money you have to directly benefit Haitian relief groups. Still, wouldn’t it be great to support both the relief work and the Arts? Both are long term efforts.

My history with Haitian people goes back a long way. When I lived in Nassau, Bahamas for two years in the mid-80s, I shared the finished portion of a cottage on a large estate with Marcel, the Haitian gardener. His part of the cottage had no indoor plumbing; he cooked on a small grill with charcoal he made from palm fronds. He sent most of his salary, $80/month, home to his family. Ever since, I’ve had a tender spot in my heart for the people of this beleaguered island.

More recently, standing in line to vote in the presidential election in 2008, I met Lounna, treasurer of Sonje Ayiti, an organization that builds schools and provides micro-loans for small businesses in Haiti. I showed her my website and we wondered then how my paintings of Vieques could help her Caribbean neighbor.

I received a note from Lounna today:

Good morning Ellie,

We all are mourning for our brothers and sisters. Our president was in Port-au--Prince but she made it safe. Now we can assist them..

For the hurricane relief effort, although we are not equiped with airplanes, jets to fly relief goods, but we can still provide immediate relief. We have 3 drivers who are committed to work to take us around and several items can be purchased in the Dominican Republic, packaged, and hand delivered to the people at different camps. we have a team of more than 30 volunteers awaited to be dispatched.

You can donate on our website www.sonjeayiti.com

Let me know how you can assist.

Lounna

I have decided I want to increase the cash I am able to generate for Haiti by making my work more affordable to more people. The pricing of art work is such a complicated issue I won’t go into it right now. Suffice to say, I do not lower my prices every day. But the recession has many people who could otherwise afford to pay a decent price for art balking at the notion. And I want to raise money for Haiti at the same time that I cover my expenses.

So I’ve lowered my prices significantly on my Caribbean paintings, by 30-50% for at least through February 14. (You can see the new price list at www.EllieHarold.com/prices.htm.) Half of all sale proceeds will go to Partners in Health for their medical relief effort in Haiti.

On other fronts, I just learned I will have a large show in 2011 at the Forte Conde de Mirasol in Isabel II, Vieques. I hope by then that Haiti is well on its way to recovery. But, then, like developing one’s art, one would be wise to stay focused on the longterm project.

2010-01-15T11:00:00.004-05:00

"Vieques Hilltop"

9" x 12" oil on canvas

$625

(If you buy this painting before February 14, 2010,

$312.50 will be donated to Partners in Health.)

Painting with Purpose – Haitian Relief

I’m sitting here in my minimal studio in Vieques, Puerto Rico. It's about 80 degrees. A gentle rain falls, tapping out a rhythm on the banana leaves. The damp weather typical of the June-November hurricane season seems to have extended for a couple of more months. The mosquitoes have been terrible. They are my biggest concern, if you don’t count which new restaurant to try later in the day and will it clear up sufficiently to paint outdoors.

The infrastructure where I live and paint 4 or 5 months of the year is fragile. A heavy rainstorm or an angry municipal worker has been known the disrupt the water supply for days or even weeks. Think flushing the toilet with bottled water from the colmada. At $5 per flush, everything (and everyone) gets pretty stinky in short order. When this happens we consider it a disaster.

A few hundred miles to the west, on another Caribbean island, I imagine the weather is not much different from here. Perhaps the roosters are crowing just as they are here. But the rest is so unimaginable, it seems too hard to even try. Living so close, however, it’s not quite so difficult. It could’ve been my beloved little island that cracked open. It could’ve been me or my family crushed beneath a concrete roof.

I get to do what I love most of the time. I’m grateful for that. I don’t get paid for much of what I do, however, so the cash flow is not always what I’d like it to be. Nonetheless I am committed to my employment as an artist for the Universe and keep on painting. I’ve been struggling with what I can do to help my neighbors in Haiti. I checked to see if I could offer services as a former nurse and discovered that without disaster experience I’d be more trouble than help. I’ve gathered up a few clothes and shoes to donate. I’m sending a check to match what I spent on dinner last evening. But what else?

It's occurred to me to put my paintings to work. I've decided I will donate 50% of all my painting sales (less framing, or shipping and handling charges) from now until Valentine’s Day. I’ve chosen Partners in Health, a medical aid organization that already has a structure in place in Haiti, as the destination for this gift. They have a good reputation for low administrative overhead, so the money goes to work with a high degree of effectiveness.

If you’d like to support the relief effort in this way, please visit my website http://www.ellieharold.com/ and make your choice. I can accept most major credit cards. I will provide you with a copy of the check I send to Partners in Health with proceeds from your purchase.

2009-12-28T13:30:00.004-05:00

Red Beach Monday Morning

9" x 12" oil on panel

Red Beach Surf

11" x 14" oil on panel

Chance of Rain Red Beach

8" x 10" oil on panel

These images are of studies done at Red Beach, Vieques in recent days. The idea has been to convey an impression of the scene quickly. I'm still using previously used panels that have been coated with white gesso. I'm loving the rough surface this provides, although I'm noticing that the photos of these paintings don't quite capture the lusciousness of the thick paint I'm using. I've been returning to more or less the same place to paint -- it's easy to get to and there's shade. Plus, it's one of the best swimming beaches.

Roo is leaving the island tomorrow for chilly Michigan and I'll be exploring a more committed art routine for the next several months. I'm anticipating a continuation of the morning paint session followed by some writing and siesta time midday with an optional afternoon session. Distraction is, of course, the great challenge and while it's wonderful to have a wi-fi connection this year, it's always tempting to surf the Net rather than painting the surf. We'll see how it goes.

I've no plans to show my work on Vieques this season except for Open Studios I'll hold at the end of January, February and March (and maybe April). In part this is to give myself the freedom to develop the work in directions that might not be so immediately sellable. (I found myself wondering this morning if "people" would like my newer work less than the style for which I've become known in the past several years.) I'm sure many artists hesitate to grow for fear of their work becoming less appreciated. I know my struggle is to value the work for its own sake, for my process in creating it, and not for what others think of it or will pay for it. Great story in the NY Times about a 94 year old woman who finally "made it" after 60 years of working at her painting. Much for me to learn in this department!

2009-12-18T09:56:00.006-05:00

View from Red Beach

8" x 10" oil/panel

Back to Red Beach this morning, thinking about what it means to paint abstractly. I love images where a few deft strokes convey the essence of a scene. When "looking" deepens it becomes "seeing." Shapes define meaning while details take a hike. I find this happens spontaneously when I am in a carefree but focused state of being.

This morning I returned to the same spot where I painted yesterday. The sky was dark as some rain clouds passes overhead. A brilliant rainbow arched over the sea and surrounding hills. It would have been difficult to capture this eye candy and, besides, my eye was drawn to the sun as it hit the cliffs across the water opposite.

The thought of painting abstractly this morning became more a concept dominating my experience and not what the painting wanted. Plus -- call me indulgent -- I just love making those brushstrokes! Still, this piece is not overworked with detail; hopefully, there's just enough. I especially like the sun effect on the simply painted cliff.

On the way home, after my swim, an idea for a book of paintings and prose occurred to me. A comparison of Vieques and Northern Michigan, the two places to which I've committed my artistic heart. Many people who travel here straddle two worlds of heat and cold -- What do they have in common? How do they differ? It seems a whole new body of artwork is brewing in me. Yes!

2009-12-17T12:31:00.003-05:00

Palm Shade

8" x 10" oil/panel

Up early this morning and out the door by 7:30 with a thermos of coffee and pastries from La Dulce Esperanza in hand. The commute to Playa Caracas wasn't too bad today -- passed one other car on the 10 minute drive. No one else at the beach, either, so no distractions. After my breakfast, I walked the familiar terrain to see what would catch my eye.

This morning it was shadows cast on the sand by the nearby coconut palms. My work was to render the contrast between sun and shade and to do it before the sun got too high. By ten a.m. my subject surrendered to the light; I packed up and submitted myself to the sea. A bit easier to get in the warm Caribbean than chilly Lake Michigan and the water is definitely "salted" here. (My favorite t-shirt slogan from this summer: "Lake Michigan -- Unsalted.") It's fine to swim up close to what I been painting in the distance.

I'm enjoying making these smaller paintings. Thick paint applied with a loose touch. A nothing-to-lose attitude that means not sweating the small stuff -- details I would have obsessed about a year ago -- a gentle approach. On good days like today, if I manage only the commute, the work seems to complete itself.

2009-12-13T08:28:00.004-05:00

Sun Light (Vieques)
8" x 8" oil on canvas

This is the first painting of the winter season here in Vieques. My intention is to be here through April. But if 2009 has taught me anything, it's that all plans are subject to radical change. So, in truth all I can really know is that I am here for now, grateful for the sunlight that so drenches the verdant landscape.

When I first arrive in a place with many painting opportunities, I often start by working close to home. It gives me a chance to see how my equipment is working and what supplies I may have neglected to bring with me. Yesterday, as a zillion mosquitoes attacked my legs, I realized I'm missing the bug spray. On the bright side, I felt strongly encouraged to paint quickly and I was pleased with the looseness of the work. I particularly like the quality of the shadows on the side of the sunny wall.

Will I paint today? I don't know. As I'm still in grief mode following my mother's passing last May, I'm just feeling my way through each day as gently as possible. It is good to paint, to affirm the life still present in me; perceiving the beauty in my surroundings is as much a gift to me as to anyone who enjoys my work. Yet, I've been known to "should" myself into doing when it might be more appropriate to be, thus destroying the joy of creating. So, today I will be sensitive to life's leadings and see where that takes me.

Enjoy the Sun Light!

2009-10-29T16:02:00.007-04:00

Autumn Little Mulberry Lake

12" x 16" oil on linen panel

It's no secret that people aren't buying a lot of paintings these days. I can tell I'm not alone by the volume of email in my inbox marketing "art marketing." One promo tells me that for just $2599 I can have my image on the cover of a new magazine that targets galleries. The more I throw my baited line in the "river of money," I'm told, the more chance I have to sell paintings. The fact that galleries are also hurting isn't mentioned.

I could chalk it up to lousy timing. My art career appeared to be taking off -- I sold an average of a painting a week for the first 6 months of 2008 -- but then the market tanked and the economy headed south. Earlier this year I had my first experience of haggling with the Very Wealthy -- imagine discounting a painting to Them! It seemed, however, the only way to make the sale. Bottomline, they loved the work and I wanted it to go to their home.

I haven't thought much about selling work for a few months. For one thing, in May of this year my mother died. The angst of not-selling can't in any way compare with the pain of such a loss. Yet, as the grief recedes, I can see more clearly the stacks of unclaimed paintings. (Remember the commercials that boomed "UNCLAIMED FREIGHT!" ? ) Plus, most days I add another to the inventory. What to do?

I've thought more than once about holding a fire sale. I've also thought about building a bonfire. Or taking the canvas off the stretchers and stashing the rolled paintings in a cupboard until the world recognizes their worth. None of these solutions particularly satisfies my desire not only to make art, but to see it go out into the world, to live with someone who appreciates it. Oh, and did I mention, giving the work away?

While today's numbers indicate a slow recovery from the recession, most people's reality is that money is still tight. As long as that perception rules, people probably will be tight with their money. And, I'm asking myself, does my own version of that show up in being rigid with my pricing?

I've heard artists more experienced than I say that one should never lower prices simply to move work. Yet, I've also noticed many painters posting their Daily Painting on eBay auctions starting at a buck. Sometimes the painting actually gets bid up to $100 or more, but more often it goes for much less if it goes at all. The fire sale actually appeals to me more, and seems to involve a lot less time on the computer.

My friend who owns a higher end gallery in Atlanta has lowered his prices -- he felt had to so he could stay open. He'd laid off workers and cut every other expense he could think of. As much as he didn't want to, he told his artists he was reducing prices. He also introduced a line of jewelry into his more or less exclusively fine art showroom. He was being a sensible businessman.

The Artist rankles at the notion of submitting his or her Art to the sensibilities of the Market. But something in re-thinking the price of a painting feels correct to me. I want to sell paintings, not inflate my ego. Yes, I loved it the first time someone paid me more than a $1000 for a painting. But in today's market, the same painting would not get that price from most people. I can choose to pay to put the image on the cover of a magazine, demonstrating what? Hubris, desperation ... ? Or maybe I can simply keep on making the art and sell it at a more affordable price.

I want to create paintings. I want people to have the paintings I make. If I sell them for less, perhaps I'll sell more, and more to the people who seem to like my simple and colorful landscapes. Anyway, I'm giving this a try. I hope my previous patrons won't get mad and feel they got a lousy deal by paying more a year or so ago. I hope, instead, they'll take advantage of the current situation and stock up at the less expensive price. And tell their less well-off friends: You can afford to buy these paintings!

On November 15 &16 I'm holding a time-limited reduced price Open House & Art Sale. It's going to benefit the Atlanta Community Food Bank. I'll give 10% of the proceeds of my sales to the organization along with the non-perishable food item I'm inviting people to bring. I'll be showing only small paintings (12" x 16" or smaller, unframed) and everything for sale will be $200 or less. (There will be larger paintings lurking around the corner for those who want to spend more.)

I'm not interested in shelling out the big bucks to market my work; I like doing things in a more direct fashion. Maybe eventually it will pay off. But, if not, I'll enjoy keeping company with the likes of Henry Thoreau, who I hear died with 700 of the 1000 copies of Walden's first edition still unsold.

For more info on how it all turns out, email me: eharold@aol.com.

2009-09-24T14:37:00.005-04:00

Autumn Color

9" x 12" oil on linen panel

(The residency is officially over but I can't resist the landscape.)

Tweddle Farm

24" x 30" oil on canvas

Gift to Park Service @ Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore

My residency officially draws to a close today though we can stay in the house until Monday. The presentation at the Visitor Center drew a great crowd of 40 or more. It was fun to be speaking on the subject near and dear to my heart, but as it turns out, it was not unlike the talks at the old Unity-Midtown. They laughed; they cried. I presented the Tweddle Farm painting (image above) to the Park and another to Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear. Then about 20 people followed me over to the farm for the exhibit of my other work -- about 25 paintings in all. What can I say? It's been an amazing experience. I'm sure there'll be more to reflect on as the days unfold. As I was out this morning painting "Autumn Color" a woman I met on the dunes came by to make a purchase of the painting she fell in love with yesterday. It was a nice affirmation of my dune path. More later ....

2009-09-24T14:37:00.004-04:00

Late Summer Port Oneida

20" x 24"

Treat Farm

24" x 20"

Burfiend Farm
16" x 20"

Today I painted up on the Pierce Stocking Drive for the final time of my residency. I wanted to go there to be with the people who contribute so much to the experience here -- tourists.

I got there early and was set up on the overlook boardwalk before anyone arrived. It reminded me of getting ready to do church years ago. Then folks started to come. I heard more than one person shush the people in her party. "There's someone painting," she'd say, and they'd approach with whispers or in silence. I would, of course, invite them in close for a look and explain what I was doing there. (Though, because of my "official" shirt and name badge and other NPS bling, it wasn't hard to figure out.)

Anyway, it was a lovely sunny morning. The views were stunning and easy to paint. The landscape here is now embedded in my consciousness to the extent I can feel as well as see it. It's more clear to me than ever after this three week immersion that an artist is painting his or her inner landscape as much as or more than the outer one.

It also strikes me that in the days when I was "doing" church as a Unity minister, I drew inspiration from life's possibilities -- the potential for creation in individuals and groups -- what might be. Now, as a painter, I am primarily inspired by reality -- what is, right in front of me. It's always only ever a matter of seeing. I'm reminded of Alice Walker's brilliant character Shug from The Color Purple, something she says along the lines of "I think it pisses God off if we walk by a field filled with the color purple and don't notice." I am intoxicated with the reality of Sleeping Bear and her coat of many colors. It's the best church I've ever found.

One mishap on the dune path this morning. An elderly lady fell in love with the piece I was painting. She asked how much I was selling it for and when I said nine-fifty, she said "Is that all?" I wondered if I was asking too little for my work. As we walk to my car to discuss the purchase (after my residency is up), I come to find out that she thought the price was $9.50 not $950 as I'd had in mind. I'd taken her for an affluent art collector who believed my prices to be extremely reasonable (as they are for this area) whereas she was actually a retiree living in a mobile home on a fixed income. After many apologies for the confusion I gave her a card with the image of one of my paintings and showed her how she could frame it and make a nice piece. I loved that she loved the work.

Putting a price on a painting is one of the most challenging parts of walking this art-spirit path. It seems that everyone who loves a painting should have it. Yet, I have significant expenses associated with my artwork as well as the need to make a living. What I do looks like such fun to casual observers, yet it is definitely work -- inner and well as outer work -- and somehow all of this wants to be compensated. My agreement with myself is to work with admirers who want to own a painting to see how we can both get what we need.

It's easier when there's someone else doing the wheeling and dealing so I'm on the lookout for a good gallery in the area. I want someone who appreciates the unique qualities of my work and will represent me enthusiastically. I think I've already found one that will work really well. I'll keep you posted with the details.

My presentation and exhibit are tomorrow. Will go "home" now to clean up and make ready. Come on down -- 2:00 p.m. at the Sleeping Bear Visitor Center -- in person or in spirit. We'll inspire each other!

Thanks for reading this blog!

2009-09-21T11:48:00.006-04:00

A rainy day at last! Non-stop painting (or desire to paint) now can cease for a day. We had a great paint-out at Tweddle Farm on Saturday with fifteen artists present to take advantage of the lovely weather and location. It was great to see the Park open and welcome to artists. I started envisioning many ways to partner with Sleeping Bear in the future. I feel such a strong connection with this land, I cannot help but think there is more I will be able to contribute here (beyond the painting I will donate at the end of this week).

Speaking of which, I am in the home stretch of my residency. I'm preparing for my presentation at the Visitor Center on Friday at 2:00 p.m. as well as for a "wet painting" show with food to follow at Tweddle Farm at 3:30. Then it will be time to pack up and head out for my next destination -- Frankfort? Atlanta? ????

I don't really have words to describe my gratitude for all this opportunity has brought me. Imagine waking in the morning with only one imperative -- to listen for the instruction, inspiration and encouragement of the Muse. Oh yes, and to feed Spotty who has, by the way, been an invaluable aid to my sleep in the form of aggressive mousing. I've been productive yet not too obsessive, pleased with my work but not so enamored of it I haven't been willing to learn from mistakes. I've struggled with issues to do with getting the work out into the world -- where are the throngs that want to buy my paintings? -- but have reconciled with the reality that all such things have their own timing, and that this is not a time to be concerned with sales. I am immersed in a process of creativity that seems life-changing to say the very least.

I appreciate your reading my reflections. I'll be posting more photos of the work as I get them finished.

2009-09-17T13:07:00.003-04:00

North Bar Breakthrough

24" x 30" oil on canvas

Getting into a rhythm of working in my "studio" in the mornings which gives me time to warm up for an afternoon session whilst improving paintings that need it. I am astounded by how much I learn from day to day. Sitting with the previous days' work, I see what could be and should be different. Then I must decide whether to go back in and work on a piece or go back to the site and try again. Some paintings seem to demand tweaking and I comply. Others, if I'm too attached to risk altering the work, require me to suffer the charm of my ignorance.
(How did that big blob end up as the foreground of this otherwise beautiful landscape?)

I seem to have a problem with foreground, offering the viewer a way in to the scene. Having identified this weakness, I have an idea of what to work with in my next painting. For now, I am choosing to let be the painting above. I may go back to North Bar Lake and have another go at it.

Thanks for checking in!

2009-09-16T10:47:00.007-04:00

On location: North Bar Overlook.

Photo by Geroge Hunyadi.

Dune Plain

12" x 16"

oil on linen panel

Treat Farm Early Evening

16" x 20" oil on canvas

Here's couple of pieces from the past week. I've loved being out on this land. It makes such a difference to be in "residence" here. I wake up in the moring immersed in the light and the landscape. The painting places reveal themselves as I fall in love with yet another spot. I'm learning to take my time choosing the place I will paint, resting sufficiently between painting sessions to be clear from one to the other. My new favorite place in Sleeping Bear is North Bar Lake. Stay tuned for images of the paintings I've been in and around there in the past two days.

Yesterday was treated to some lovely contacts with people at the North Bar Lake Overlook on the Pierce Stocking Drive. One couple, Geroge and Joy Kunyadi, were particularly engaging. George was carrying a major piece of photograhic equipment and asked me to take time out to pose with my painting. I couldn't resist. The photo is above.

Today marks a shift in the weather pattern that's brought impeccable weather for the past ten days. I can use a bit of time to do some studio work. Still, it's supposed to clear this afternoon and the land beckons ....

2009-09-14T15:13:00.002-04:00

One of the challenges of doing technology and painting is that the painting mind is not geared to the technological one, except as it relates to getting the paint out of the tube and onto the canvas. I'm writing this with no photo attached because the camera is somewhere in all my painting stuff and not with my laptop. That said, the painting is going well today. I painted at North Bar Lake this morning -- a crystalline blue green lake with woods on one side and dunes on the other. The painting features the point where a small outlet from the lake breaks through to Lake Michigan. Quite loose and colorful and filled with light. Now back to the same area for an afternoon session.

Sleeping better for having Spotty my cat around. He's keeping the house critters at bay. The outdoor wildlife -- a huge porcupine who comes to eat the fallen pears near the farmhouse -- is probably more than he could take on. He's really a house cat, never caught anything bigger than a large roach. I doubt he'll do anything more than scare the mouse, the way Mr. P. Pine scares him.

With twelve or more paintings more or less completed, I'm taking this week to paint in one or two places I've really fallen for. Away from the homestead, out into the wild world of the dunes. Thanks for following this blog! Send me an email if you'd like!

2009-09-09T15:49:00.003-04:00

Tweddle Farm Sept. 6

24" x 30"
Norconk Meadow
24" x 30"

Two works in progress. I've been progressively increasing the size of my paintings in preparation for doing a 30" x 40" plein air (outdoor) dune painting. I wrestle with my ability to knock out a painting quickly (a somewhat daunting task on a bigger canvas) and my desire to paint from a relaxed space. The ambitious "paintiac" takes over all too often. It seems to be a matter of aspiring to paint large without being compelled to do so for the wrong reasons.

I'm also choosing to see all these paintings as works in progress. It's so macho to believe that only paintings completed in one sitting are true plein air pieces. If I am in service to Beauty, does it matter how long the painting takes? Today I worked on a 24" x 30" farmyard scene for more than 3 hours. I took it as far as I could in one day. Tomorrow's another day and I hope for sun that will allow me to develop the painting outside. If not, I can reference my photos of the scene. Beauty is generous; it's not trusting the abundance that has me greedy to get it all down as quickly as possible. Such a metaphor ....

I've also realized that coming out of the painting space to blog on my computer (which requires sitting in this coffee shop) is very distracting. I have to physically leave my "residency" and I wonder if it's worth it. Is anyone really following this? If so, I'd appreciate it if you would please send me an email at eharold@aol.com to let me know.

Yesterday was an admin day. I formally became a Volunteer of the National Park Service, received an official nametag and shirt (great for painting). It's the most connected to the federal government I've ever been. I feel sorry, though, for the employees at Sleeping Bear. They sit in florescent lit cubicles all day while the dunes they manage bask in the sun. Very helpful staff, though, and I remain grateful for this unexpected opportunity as well as the shirt.

(For some reason I'm unable to get paragraph breaks on this blog -- sorry for the run-on text.)

2009-09-06T16:04:00.004-04:00

Tweddle Farm

oil on canvas

20" x 20"

Arrival

It took me about an hour to move my stuff into the house at Tweddle Farm. Basic government issue furnishings but with the paintings I brought up from Frankfort, it soon looks like my usual home/gallery. Once installed, I headed out for a paint session -- ten yards from the door. Last night the just waning moon kept me awake. Lots of fog in the meadows reflecting the light. Up early this morning and back at it. Nice folk stop by to visit and view on the way to their morning hike. Now at Gemma's, the local wi-fi connection, where the loud rock contrasts mightily with the peaceful farm.

2009-09-02T14:08:00.002-04:00

Sleeping Bear Path

11" x 14" oil on linen panel

Here's part of the path I'll be trying to walk these upcoming weeks. Literally and figuratively, it's a steep way to go. The challenge is about staying true to my intention to follow an Art-Spirit path. What does this mean? I'll have three weeks to begin to find out starting this Saturday. Thanks for checking in!

2009-09-01T20:21:00.008-04:00

Apple Tree

9" x 12" oil on linen

I fell in love with Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore as soon as I lay eyes on the Park last August. I knew I had to come back to paint those amazing dunes. In October I returned for a few chilly and wet days in nearby Frankfort, MI. I painted on the dunes the one day it was sunny (and 45 degrees). Meanwhile, next door to the place I was staying, a foreclosure sign went in the ground of an old Victorian fixer-upper; within 4 hours, my husband and I had made an offer. We got the house even though responsibilities in Atlanta wouldn't allow us to move any time soon. During a quick visit in November to show Roo what we'd gotten ourselves into, the snow started to fall and we headed south again.

I applied for the Artist in Residence program in January. In early May I learned I'd not been selected. A photographer and filmmaker were chosen this year, but would I be willing to be the first alternate? My 96 year old mother had just fallen and broken her hip. I wasn't sure what the future held for me, her primary caretaker. But I agreed to be on stand-by in case someone was unable to serve. Then mom's condition quickly deteriorated. When she died less than a week later, my world seemed to have fallen apart. Yet, in the midst of terrible grief, it slowly dawned that nothing was keeping us from returning to beautiful Michigan. I would have a summer to paint even though I would be at Sleeping Bear.

By the first week or so in July I managed my grief sufficiently to resume painting. I headed up to a meadow across from Old Indian Trail in the Park. I found myself walking around what turned out to be an abandoned orchard and there made my first painting at Sleeping Bear. Something about that old apple tree spoke to me. Perhaps it reminded me of my mother in her last days -- largely worn out but still producing a few juicy apples. In any case, the painting signalled a day of new beginnings. (As I write this I'm reminded to go back out tomorrow and check to see if the apples are ripe.) I'll keep you posted.

BTW, I did get a call from the Sleeping Bear Park, just a couple of weeks ago. It turns out I will be an Artist in Residence there. In fact, I head up (20 miles north of Frankfort) to begin this Saturday. I've decided to blog my way through the 3 week sojourn there. I'll post my work and tell how it's going. I hope you'll come along for the viewing or maybe even to get out and paint.

2009-03-28T15:58:00.001-04:00

Navio

20" x 20" oil/canvas

A smaller study of this scene flew off the wall while it was still wet so the following day I returned to this beautiful Vieques beach for more delicious eye candy. The challenge of painting a larger plein air piece has to do with the changing light. I have to work quickly in order to cover the canvas. But the intensity of the process is worth it as painting directly from Nature seems to bring aliveness to the finished painting.I

If you'd like to comment on the work or simply know more about the painting, including availability and price, please send me an email at inquire@ellieharold.com. Thanks for viewing!

'm pleased that I will now have an on-island agent on Vieques to show my work when I'm not able to. To arrange a studio visit simply call 678.421.1981.

2008-11-03T12:33:00.001-05:00

"Angled Up in Blue"
20 X 20" oil/canvas

"Angled Up in Blue" is one of my recent still life paintings in a series I call "Contemplation." Like so many Americans, the presidential election has had me on edge for months. Setting up a still life and painting allowed me to focus as much on the "ground" as all the objects that have appeared there. The practice has literally grounded me in the Present Moment where there's peace no matter who wins or loses.

If you'd like to comment on the work or simply know more about the painting, including availability and price, please send me an email. Thanks for viewing!

2008-10-03T14:37:00.004-04:00

Muscadines
12" x 16"
oil on canvas

This month I've switched gears from landscape to still life painting. Actually, to me a still life is more or less a landscape without wind. All paintings are really abstract designs on a two-dimensional surface. Much of the time we identify with the forms represented in that design and say the painting is "of a tree" or "of a pretty flower arangement" or whatever. With "Muscadines" I deliberately arranged the various elements, including the creases in the silk fabric, to create the abstract design of round shapes on a field of color. Of course, one always has to contend with the fact that there are actual objects on the table. In the case of this painting, the delicious fragrance of these particularly plump, ripe grapes -- a sure sign of Autumn in Georgia -- had me eating them before I finished the painting. I was forced to the local fruit stand to purchase more of them; these were promptly eated as well and I had to complete the work from memory. To learn more about this painting, including price and availability, contact me at eharold@aol.com.

2008-09-06T15:37:00.003-04:00

On the Dune Early Afternoon

20" x 20" oil/canvas

Until last year I'd never been to Michigan, but when I finally got there I fell in love. The friend who introduced me lives a hop, skip and jump from the Vasa Trail, a cross-country ski venue in the winter, a labyrinth of walking and biking paths in the summer. While I didn't paint there on my first visit, I did spy a meadow I promised myself I would paint one day. This August I spent many fine hours there. Doing one of my first pieces, a strip of light at the top of meadow intrigued me. Following the path I'd been painting I discovered this dune. I first did a 12" x 12" study beginning around 1:00 p.m. Usually not my favorite time for plein air work, I found a patch of shade that gave me a great vantage point. I loved the study and headed back with a large canvas a week later. around the same time. A somewhat autumnal day, wonderful clouds scudded across the sky. This dune "blowout" on the Vasa Trail whet my appetite for what was to come -- the Sleeping Bear Dunes -- left behind by the glaciers that covered Michigan and points north many thousands of years ago.

2008-08-03T16:19:00.004-04:00

Evening on the Bitterrot
16 x 16"
oil on canvas

This painting was created recently amidst a swarm of mosquitoes near Stevensville, Montana. Newly arrived around 7 in the evening, this was my first opportunity to paint a landscape in a part of the country where I lived many years ago. Those giant skeeters posed quite a challenge, however. (Abundant insect life must be one of the reasons the Bitterroot River makes for great fishing.) Fortunately, I had a small amount of bug spray in my backpack and sufficient attraction to the oval shapes formed by the branches of these cottonwood trees to not hold back. It was almost 9:00 p.m. when I completed the piece . The sky was still a deep blue and the sunlight on the trees only just beginning to fade.The mosquitoes were just getting going.

To let me know what you think, or for more information about the painting, including availability and price, visit www.EllieHarold.com.

2008-01-09T15:25:00.001-05:00

Dunescape Martha's Vineyard
oil on canvas
30" x 40"
$2100

My First Painting of 2008

Happy New Year!

I love getting back to work after the holidays, especially when the work is making Art. As I was preparing for the Goal-Setting for Artists workshop this past weekend, it became crystal clear to me that for artists to be satisfied in life, they must Do Art. If I am to find meaning in Life, I must not simply talk about painting (as enjoyable as that is) I must also paint.

So, here is my first offering to the Painting God for 2008: a large, sunny dunescape. I've been envisioning this scene ever since painting a small study at Lambert's Cove Beach on Martha's Vineyard one afternoon last September. The effect of the large painting is that you feel you're at the beach and it's possible to walk up the path to those warmly-lit trees on the other side of the dune.

I'll be heading back down to Vieques. Siddhia Hutchinson called right after to Christmas to let me know she'd sold 4 of my paintings. Then she called a couple of days later to say she'd sold 3 more. These are really my first substantial gallery sales and I'm very pleased! I'll be painting to replenish my inventory down there and dipping my toes in the water occasionally, I'm sure.

Before I go, however, there's a show at the Marietta-Cobb Museum this Saturday evening to which I'd like to invite you if you're in the area. It's called "Reflections: Celebrating Georgia Women Artists." This is a juried show and I'm pleased to report that of 279 submissions, with 80 selected for the show, 3 are mine! The reception is from 6-8p.m. and there is a $5 admission for non-members. The Museum is housed in the old Library where I used to go to homework (and other things) when I was in high school. It will be fun to show you my work if you turn up!

I hope you're off to a fresh start doing your Art -- whatever that may be!

2007-12-23T16:07:00.001-05:00

"Light on the Lighthouse"
oil on canvas
9" x 12"
$500

My recent trip to Vieques proved somewhat frustrating. An unusual weather pattern produced a post-season tropical storm and for days the wind and rain made painting outdoors difficult. Feeling thwarted, I wanted to throw in my paint rag for the duration.

Fortunately I have a persistent reminder (in the form of my husband) of what really matters to me. I guess because I get cranky when I don't paint, Roo encourages me to find a way even when I feel blocked. He is, among other things, an example of what I call a structure for accountability.

A structure for accountability is someone or something I've empowered to help me remember what really matters. When people starting making New Year's resolutions, I believe they're really looking for structures for accountability. Rather than expressing a willful demand that we improve ourselves, a structure for accountability expresses our willingness to nurture changes we desire.

I've come to view certain agreements I make with myself as structures for accountability. This blog is one such agreement -- I agree to maintain this blog on a more or less regular basis. The value of this to me is that it invites me to reflect on my artistic process and to show my recent work. Knowing you're reading this keeps me on track and, I hope, informs and entertains you.

Certain kinds of goals are also structures for accountability. For instance, Roo helped me acknowledge I really did want to produce paintings while I was in the Caribbean. So I set up my easel in the bedroom and painted looking out through the ventanas (Miami blinds) onto the palms and sea beyond. And when the sun finally shone, I hightailed it to the beach with my equipment and found the dazzling scene depicted here.

I ended up making 8 new paintings that week -- not bad for one suffering from thwarty circumstances! I took several to my Vieques gallery and received a call two days ago that 4 of my paintings sold in one morning.

Successful work habits don't grow on palms trees! They're the result of creating structures for accountability that work when you don't want to. If you want to learn more about how to get this sort of thing working for you, you might want to check out the workshop I'm offering on January 6 from 2-5 p.m. here in Norcross.

"Goal-Setting for Artists - Take Your Art to the Next Level" will give you ample opportunity to look at what will help you work in more fulfilling ways. (Maybe you don't think of yourself as an artist, but what is Life, after all, than a blank canvas awaiting your mark?) There's more info about this on my website: www.ellieharold.com/text2/newsEvents.htm. Let me know if you're interested.

In any case, Happy New Year to you! May what you create 2008 be truly great!

2007-12-06T21:33:00.001-05:00

Autumn Glow #2
36" x 36"
oil on canvas
$2000

Holiday Trees at Sweetgrass Wellness Center

This afternoon I planted a whole forest of trees at the Sweetgrass Wellness Center (www.SweetgrassSpa.com), 483 Moreland Ave. next to Sevananda in Little Five Points, Atlanta. I hope you'll get a chance to stop by in the next few weeks to see the series of Autumn Glow paintings. There are 3 large (36" x 36") and 3 small (12" x 12") paintings. I hate to sound like a broken record, but I really really really love those trees in the back of our home!

If you haven't been there yet, Sweetgrass Wellness Center is truly sweet!. Miriam Arensberg and her chiropractor husband, Dr. Tim Tschirhart, have created an enlivening and nurturing environment. If you go to see the paintings, I'm sure you'll enjoy the warmth of this charming day spa (and might want to stay for a stress-reducing rub).

On Saturday I'm off to Vieques for ten days. It will be a time for making new Caribbean paintings as well as tending to the ones already in Siddhia Hutchinson's gallery there. I'll be missing (not!) Atlanta holiday traffic. I hope you'll stay sane and safe.

Love, Ellie

P.S. On January 6 I'll be offering Goal-Setting for Artists: Take Your Art to a New Level at the Kudzu Art Zone in Norcross. If you or anyone you know would like more info: http://www.freshstartart.com/text2/newsEvents.htm. Pre-registration is online at www.KudzuArtZone.org.

P.P.S. View the entire Autumn Glow Series and the rest of the forest at www.EllieHarold.com Landscape 2 gallery.

2007-11-28T11:46:00.001-05:00

Yearning
oil on canvas 12" x 12"
$700

Woodland Garden
oil on canvas 36" x 36"
$2000

Christmas Trees

I've become obsessed with the trees I see as I look out of my studio window. I wake up in the middle of the night and imagine all those vertical trunks reaching for the stars. In the morning, I'm at the easel working on the tree painting de jour.

I'm doing both smaller studies (12" x 12") as well as larger ones (36" x 36"). I'm particularly enjoying the large format. Surrounded by these big forested canvases, I feel like I'm in the woods even when it's drizzling and wet (bring it on!) outside.

I'm using a lot of jewel tones colors for these trees. The emerald greens, deep purples and transparent reds seem to convey the atmosphere of both rainy and sunlit days. Both the large and small paintings appear to glow, the way a real tree does if you stare at it long enough.

This holiday season we're hearing a lot about giving "green" gifts. I can't imagine one greener than the ones we've already been given -- those trees growing in our own parks or back yards. Even after their shade is no longer needed, even with branches bare of autumnal color, our arboreal friends stand watch over us.

What's not to love about such grace-filled presence?

2007-11-12T15:08:00.001-05:00

Seagrass 1
oil/canvas
20" x 20"

Seagrass 2
oil/canvas
20" x 20"

Gratitude

This week I'm taking care of my mom. She wrenched her back last week and needs a nurse. As if being 95 wasn't enough to deal with! I am constantly amazed by her grace in such trying circumstances. Even when she's in pain, she always thanks whoever assists her and offers up a little joke or a smile. Last night as I fed her pudding with a spoon, I could not help but think of how many times she'd done the same for me.

Another of mom's great gifts to me has been the experience of Martha's Vineyard. After my dad died, she bought a small Victorian cottage in the town of Oak Bluffs and lived there independently for 20 years. I wintered over one year and worked in the hospital's ICU. I now go back once or twice a year to paint.

The images above are abstract landscapes inspired by the grasses on the edge of the Tisbury Great Pond. (Roo and I swam there on a sunny day in early October of this year.) I was intrigued by the shadows cast by the grassy mounds, and the way they contrasted with the bright sand and water.

Such contrasts abound in life, of course. Particularly at this time of Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the gift of my long-lived mom and all she has made possible for me. In this shadowy time of her life, she continues to bring light to all who know her.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-10-29T10:49:00.001-04:00

Big Marsh
oil on canvas
40" x 40"

Now on Display at Buckhead Plaza

Downtown Buckhead is under reconstruction! While it's a bit disconcerting watching another few blocks of Old Atlanta torn down, walking there is suddenly quite easy. I still find it fun to visit the area, remembering all the things that used to be there but which still exist in memory.

I stopped by the other day to see my art on display at the Buckhead Plaza office building. There's five large abstract landscape pieces done from studies I made on Martha's Vineyard. It's really exciting to see the paintings hung in a large public space.

Earlier this year, David Nielsen of the David Gallery (365 Peachtree Hills Avenue #103, 404 661 2145) suggested I experiment with larger work. Taking his advice opened new worlds for me. Working in a large format allows me a lot of room for expression. David also introduced me to the work of Wolf Kahn. Inspired by Kahn's use of exciting color combinations, I've discovered an outlet for my lifelong passion for strong color.

I hope you'll check out the show at Buckhead Plaza (lunch at Whole Foods or Nava for a splurge) and also stop by the David Gallery to see my other more modestly-sized paintings. Give me a call and we can plan to meet there!

2007-08-27T10:57:00.001-04:00

Perceiving the Deep
oil on canvas
30" x 30"
$1800

Out the Door

Here's the fourth in the series of Cornwall paintings. I'm posting this image even though it doesn't quite capture the true color of the original. I've fiddled with it sufficiently to say, in the words of Sally Evans's "modern day muse" Good 'n Plenty, "it's good enough and plenty good."

This will be one of three submissions to a juried show sponsored by the National League of American Pen Women, Atlanta Branch. The title of the show is "Reflections." All four of the Cornwall series -- my most ambitious painting project to day -- were created with this theme in mind, more or less.

All summer long I've focused on communicating the phenomenon of "reflection." What have I learned? A large project requires more attention, time, commitment, energy, intelligence, perseverance and hard work than a smaller one.

I am temperamentally more inclined to spontaneity and impulse, and prone to disappointment if my first efforts don't produce dazzling results. I am learning, however, that painting is as much a practice as it is a project.
Beautiful work is really wonderful, but duds also brings gifts when one's real goal is to go deeper than one has gone before. What doesn't work at first can be re-painted until it does (within the limits of my skill).

Now the work goes out the door be judged: the 30"x 30" canvases reduced in size to about 3" x 3." Will the jury see what I see in these condensed version of my labors of love? Can their opinion matter and not-matter at the same time? What if i don't get in the show? What if I do?

*Check out Sally Evans's muse-inspired fine art jewelry at www.SallyEvans.com. And for more about the extraordinarily helpful Modern Day Muses, you can visit www.themuseisin.com.

2007-08-22T16:29:00.001-04:00

Stone Fence Cornwall
oil on canvas
30" x 30"
$1800

Dream Painting

At last I can show you #3 in the Cornwall series. (#4 is drying on the back porch and will be featured soon!)

"Stone Fence Cornwall" went through many changes on its way to what you see here, a rock wall that separates the distant headland, sea and sky (painted in cooler colors) from the foreground path, grasses and those unusual bushes (much warmer pigments).

I wondered about the significance of this particular clover-covered stone fence which I'd captured in a photograph a couple of years ago. Did it reflect some internal defense of which I was unaware? Should I take it down, or put a gate through it? This might have allowed the viewer's eye to move more easily from the near spaces to the more remote ones. But the wall intrigued me and so I left it intact.

To me, the painting makes a statement to me about the nature of here and there, now and then. By staying on this side of the fence, in the "here and now" space, rather than traveling to a place more distant (past or future -- your choice), I get to enjoy the warmth and brilliance of what's on my path. I can also look out over the fence to see more distant realms. And, if I'm compelled to go to those others places -- it's not a prison wall after all -- it's not that hard to climb. (Oh my! have I just defended my wall?)

Some paintings are like dreams and this is one of those sort. I'd love to know what you see in "your" version of this painting. Drop a line or comment in the blogspace below.

2007-08-06T17:29:00.001-04:00

Sunny Vista, La Hueca
16" x 20"
oil on canvas

Palomilla's Cuban Restaurant

Maybe you read Cliff Bostock's review in last week's Creative Loafing, but in case you missed it read what he had to say about the wonderful Cuban food there:

"....Palomilla's Cuban Grill House *6470 Spalding Drive, Norcross, 770-242-0078) may well ruin my taste for food at other Cuban restaurants. This inconspicuous suburban cafe opened less than a year ago in a strip shopping center. It serves the best Cuban food I have ever tasted. And believe me, that's saying a lot. Years ago, I was married to a Cuban woman whose mother was a spectacular cook, and I've spent a good bit of time in Miami."

Those who know Cliff's work as food critic for Creative Loafing know he is no pushover when it comes to the appreciation of the good things in life. That's why I was so pleased by the next paragraph in his review:

"Palomilla's is as plain inside as it is outside. Brown seems to be the predominant color. An exception to the monochromatic scheme is the art. I was pleased to see colorful landscape paintings by an old friend, Ellie Harold, who was pastor of Unity Midtown about 15 years ago."

If you're withing driving distance of Norcross, I hope you'll treat yourself to a great meal. And while you're there, check out some of my Caribbean paintings.

(When I first visited Palomilla's I too was struck by the brown-ness of it all. I contacted Elizardo -- the other Ellie -- to see if he'd like to show and sell my work on consignment. He was delighted. This arrangement makes certain I'll get some of their tasty food -- I like the hefty portions of black beans, rice and plantains that accompany the entrees -- and enjoy my own art while I eat.)

The other night I got a call from my first customer, a gentleman wishing to purchase "First Light Playa Esperanza" for his wife for their anniversary. I'd thought the only outlet for my Caribbean art was in Vieques. Who knew being wrong could feel so right!

2007-07-17T19:30:00.001-04:00

Seaside Village
oil on canvas
30" x 30"
$2500

Big Love

Just as Bill Hendrickson is learning in his HBO Big Love experiment, I've discovered it's one thing to make a painting that works well and another thing entirely to follow it up with another (and another) that relates to it. "Seaside Village" is an attempt to create a companion to "Cornwall Harbour" which I posted on the blog several weeks ago. I've since begun a third in the series which depicts a snakey stone fence that looks at the headland in "Harbour" from a somewhat different vantage point.

To work in a series like this means creating the paintings to "converse" with one another. As I'm composing them, I'm wondering what the subjects have in common and how they are also different. Then it's up to the viewer -- you -- to figure out what they're communicating and if it makes sense.

In this series, both works are the intentionally the same size, painted with the same palette and with a similar aim of showing the effect of light on the landscape. "Cornwall Harbour," however, gives an early morning seaward view while "Seaside Village" looks inland on a sunny afternoon. And, the locale of both subjects comprises only a few hundred yards -- even though they look in different directions, they are related by the proximity in which I find them. Sound like any relationships you know?

How will #3 fit in with the other two? Stay tuned! I'll show you as soon as I've found out.

2007-07-03T10:04:00.000-04:00

Five O'Clock Shadows
oil on canvas
24"x 30"
$1300

Bright Light, Dark Shadows

This painting is based on a smaller study I did in Vieques in April. It was an extraordinarily bright and sunny afternoon. I certainly wanted to capture the light as it danced on the twisted branches of this sea grape, but even more interesting to me were the shadows they cast in the sand.

The passing this weekend of my mom's twin (called Chrissie-nun by her numerous nieces and nephews), has brought me into some painful, dark spaces of grief. As in the painting, however, I'm rediscovering how light and shade balance one another. They provide a much-needed contrast in life.

Opposites are a match made in heaven. Whether it's a physical phenomenon or an emotional one, when it comes to light and dark, you can't have one without the other -- though not for want of trying! It's clear, as I can hear Richard Moss so clearly say, "consciousness loves contrast." And so do paintings!

And fireworks, too! Happy 4th of July! May this painting take you to the beach if you aren't there already.

2007-06-25T12:48:00.001-04:00

Cornwall Harbour
oil on canvas
30" x 30"
$2500

Looking to See

This painting, completed last week, was inspired by the view from the flagpole, which is where you get to if you climb up behind our family cottage in Boscastle, Cornwall. Roo came here on summer holidays when he was a child, and this is now a favorite spot of mine as well. Eventually, we'd like to live part of the year in this wild and wonderful part of the world.

I've painted the landscape abstractly, especially the colors, and the result is quite dramatic. I'm starting to understand that when I really see something, it often looks different than my mind tells me it should. This aspect of painting amazes me. The image I've painted as an abstract actually looks more real than the photograph I used for a reference.

When Roo and I had breakfast this morning in the room where the painting is hanging, it felt like we were really there. It was good to be there. The air in Boscastle is fresh, cool and clean. We have a new nephew, born there on the Solstice, bringing a sense of renewal to us all. Until we can actually visit next, that painting will be our window on that delightful world.

I trust you'll see something wondrous when you look at something you already think you know.

2007-06-19T09:53:00.001-04:00

Atlanta Spring
12" x 16"
oil on canvas

Encouragement from Helen Keller

"I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker."

2007-06-18T13:25:00.000-04:00

Pond Color
30" x 30"
oil on canvas

A Perfect Painting?

When I brought "Pond Color" to show my dealer last week, David pronounced it a "perfect painting." I don't know about that, but I do like it a lot. In this painting I took a visual idea that had been developing in several other images of Martha's Vineyard ponds to a new level. Who knew it was possible to use such brilliant colors in a landscape?!

I find it liberating to give myself permission to depart from what I believe are "realistic" colors. The result, in my view, is something that actually looks super-real, or surreal. I couldn't take my eyes off this baby for days. Something about that strip of lemony-green marsh, and that juicy light-filled evergreen, and the lavender cloud bank that keeps drawing me back to look again and again.

Now the painting has a new, albeit temporary home at The David Gallery. If you're in the neighborhood (365 Peachtree Hills Ave., Atlanta), stop by and take a look for yourself. I'd love to know what happens to you when you view it.

Oh, I almost forgot .... You might also want to check out Bark for Art this Saturday evening at Timothy Tew's gallery from 7-9pm. Bark for Art is a benefit event for Atlanta Lab Rescue and Golden Retriever Rescue. $25 at the door gets you both great food and great art. I've donated a painting for the silent auction so I hope you'll stop by and support a good cause. The David Gallery will also be open during the event so you can double your viewing pleasure. For more info, visit
www. timothytew.com/index.php?id=83.

2007-06-10T15:07:00.000-04:00

Pine Lake Bench
oil on canvas
16" x 20"

To Value Art is To Live With It

Once I've finished a painting, it sometimes seems to sit there asking to be seen by someone other than me. After I've shown what I've done to my husband (who usually can suggest a few improvements) and my mother (who marvels at everything she sees), I naturally look for ways for others to enjoy the work.

The audience, after all, is the reason to paint, isn't it? I'm not the only artist who wrestles with how to get their paintings into the public eye and, ideally, into the marketplace. If someone will buy the work, we reason, it must have been worth painting.

Unfortunately, if the painting isn't gobbled up by an eager collector, some will conclude that it must not have been worth the effort to begin with. If they are prolific painters, they may resent the growing body of work that sits stacked in a dark corner, and, in extreme cases, stop making new art. Some actually avoid the discomfort of unsold work by burning their paintings in huge purpose-built bonfires. (Note: I almost burned the canvas that "Pine Lake Bench" above was painted on -- what a waste!)

As I am one of those painters who often makes several paintings in a week, I've also had to reckon with the disposition of an accumulating stack of painted canvas. In part, this blog is one way of solving the problem. If you're reading this, you've probably seen the image of one of my paintings I've posted alongside. If so, I've perhaps accomplished part of my aim -- to serve the impulse that inspired me to paint in the first place. If not, there must have been some other value to the work than that you behold it!

In the past week, I've been one of millions who view the work of other artists online. For the most part I've spent less than 30 seconds looking at any given image. Sadly, I can hardly call this activity art "appreciation." The valuing of art (or anything else for that matter!) requires more than a quick glance (or even the recommendation of an "expert")-- true appreciation takes a committed relationship, more like a marriage, than a cheap thrill or one-night stand.

For example, a painting I bought in Vieques several years ago cost me $1400. That's the price for which the artist, Alec Moseley, had decided he'd be willing to let it go for, the one that assured him his efforts would be valued. Because I'd fallen in love with his image of a sunny Vieques hillside, I was willing to pay the price to bring it home forever.

I'm so glad I did -- it's been worth every cent! I find something to enjoy about it every time I look at it, often something I haven't seen before. And, each time I look at Alec's work, I get a great energetic hit of his great passion for painting -- all of this without having to travel to Puerto Rico.

I receive something from every piece of art, including my own, that I sit with over time. From the beauty of the colors and composition to the pleasure of seeing through the painting into another time and place, I'm find I'm actually quite content to enjoy my paintings for as long they are with me. Then, when someone else falls in love and commits to, i.e. pays for, a live-in relationship with it, I'm really ready to let it go to a new home, where it will be cherished by others in months and years to come.

Art dealers often let prospective buyers take a painting home on approval. While not always practical, when it is, it's a great way to take the step of courting a new piece of art before making a purchase. In that spirit, if you see an image ofthat you're drawn to, I'd be glad to make arrangements with you to bring one of my paintings into your home. Just let me know by replying to this post. If you're not ready for a deeper commitment (yet), please feel free to flirt with whatever catches your eye in the moment!

2007-06-04T15:48:00.001-04:00

Blue Ridge Vista

oil on linen
12" x 16"

A few weeks ago I felt a strong urge to paint from a high place so I could see distant places. (There are times, once the trees have leafed, when where I live feels like a prison of green!) Unable to think of any reason not to go -- how I can avoid my bliss -- I threw my painting gear in the back of my car and headed to North Carolina.

I'd thought to go to a spot on the Blue Ridge Parkway near a backpacking trail I'd used a long time ago. When I arrived, however, the place was shrouded in dark cloud cover. Still, I painted, happy to be in the cool, fresh air.

The next day was much brighter. I set out for the Parkway once again as I would for the next three days. As I drove up and down looking for painting places, I stopped repeatedly at one particular overlook. There was a budding tree that grabbed my attention as well as purple mountains rolling off to the horizon. I wasn't until I was headed home that I submitted to my desire to paint the scene, the one depicted above in Blue Ridge Vista. I felt complete.

The impulse to paint in high places derives perhaps from an intuition that, from time to time, it is good to get above it all. Some find transcendence an escape. For me it's a touchstone with Reality, a place to know that in the Big Picture, it's all already alright. Before I was a painter, meditation served a similar purpose. Now, I am able to produce an image from that space of Being and bring it back down to where things seem more easily obscured. As you can see, I've got a great job!

2007-06-03T14:35:00.001-04:00

2007-06-03T14:13:00.001-04:00

Juicy Fruit
oil on canvas
8" x 10"
$420 unframed

This morning I visited my tomato patch for the first time in two weeks. When I left for a recent painting trip to Martha's Vineyard, the plants were barely a foot tall. Now they're three or more times that size with bunches of flowers and baby tomatoes.

Things grow even in my absence -- a good thing since I'm away a lot. Last June, sorry to be leaving home just as the tomatoes were coming in, I tucked a couple in my suitcase and let them ripen in the Puerto Rican sun. Then, I painted the biggest one (seen above in "Juicy Fruit") and ate it.

I realize, though, that even when I'm "here," I'm prone to stressful thoughts of hyper-responsibility that remove me from present reality. It's true that I must do my part in any endeavor. But, no matter how hard I try, I cannot make something grow. Everything, it seems, has a life and timing of its own.

What's true for garden vegetables seems to apply to any creative process. It's okay to take a break and simply watch what you've planted bear its juicy fruit. And, then, if you're so inclined, paint its picture.

2007-06-02T12:36:00.000-04:00

Springtime Grays
oil on canvas
9" x 12"
$560 unframed

A friend commented recently that I'm not much fun anymore -- all I want to do is paint. Not true, I replied, there's nothing more fun to me than painting. And, really, painting is more than simple fun. This is no hobby. Art is a way of life.

In the four years I've been painting my way of being in the world has changed significantly. I see things differently. Well, not just differently. I actually see more now than I used to. No longer content to simply go someplace, I find myself composing a picture wherever I go. I struggle to identify the shade of blue-green-gray I'd use to render distant tree-covered hills, not as before when my angst would be to figure out the meaning of life.

I'd rather be painting than reading or meditating or discussing the way of things. Painting is like pigment itself -- the thick of Life. Give me a brush and I'll show you how the present moment looks to me. My husband remarks that living with me has allowed him to witness the evolution of an artist firsthand. He married a Unity minister and now he's got someone who goes a bit nutty if away from her easel for more than a day.

I know there are a lot of people who consider painting to be a hobby, and view me as another middle-aging woman filling up the hours of a vacant early retirement. But few today have the luxury (or, honestly, the desire) for merely dabbling in "the arts." Certainly, I don't. I want not only to make art for my own enjoyment but also for for my work to seen by others, subjected to their critical eye, and valued in the marketplace. In other words, even though I'm 55, I am not a hobbyist but a budding professional, what's called in the art world an "emerging artist."

If you're someone who's always thought artists were another breed of humanity, you might find it interesting to realize that ordinary people who didn't draw a lot when they were little, or show a particular aptitude for art, do in fact turn out to be artists. (I was an R.N. for many years before my ordination.) You might discover that you who love watching other people make art, may also long to do art yourself. Maybe you'll be inspired by my words to splash some paint on a canvas one day. In any case, I feel called to share my experience of waking up mid-life to a new vocation, and to show you the fruits of my labor.

This writing by George Bernard Shaw sums up quite nicely my passion for Life and seems like a good way to inaugurate this round of blogging:

"This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I wan to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no "brief candle" to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."

George Bernard Shaw