October 29, 2009

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.

September 24, 2009

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 ....

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!


September 21, 2009




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.

September 17, 2009

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!

September 16, 2009

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 ....

September 14, 2009

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!

September 9, 2009

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.)

September 6, 2009

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.

September 2, 2009

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!


September 1, 2009

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.



March 28, 2009

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.

November 3, 2008


"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!


October 3, 2008

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.

September 6, 2008

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.



August 3, 2008

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.

January 9, 2008

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!



December 23, 2007


"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!




December 6, 2007

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.

November 28, 2007

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?