Putting color into a still life

My dear friend Raquel brought me a spectacular bouquet of tulips which kept expanding in the winter light, reaching taller and wider until I finally brought it into my studio in front of a canvas. What fun!! 

I hadn't worked larger for a while so I loved the challenge. The tulips continued to grow so I had to make artistic decisions about placement and not look back. Then they wilted, and drooped, but I wasn't finished so the artist in me had even more fun building form and light. As a simple still life of white tulips it was lovely but when I decided to add color it told its own story. 

Paintings often name themselves or rather a title comes to me while I'm working but this one eluded me. I posted the picture on Facebook and asked for help. Two Pink Tulips. Tulips Breaking Out. Spring Bouquet. In The Pink. I Will Wait For You. Just One More. Tulips From The Garden.  Beauty of Spring. Tulips Apart. Spring Splendor. Acceptance. Thank you, friends, I chose 'Color Doesn't Make Us Different ', suggested by my artist friend, Marolyn Corriere. 

The second photo shows my painting in progress and constant companion, Chiquita. She's on loan with us for a while and loves to be with us, wherever we are.

Color Doesn't Make Us Different, oil on canvas, 22x28 c. 2018

Out The Window and Fresh Snow

Winter plein air paintings are exciting. And FAST! However, I have become progressively lazier when it comes to painting outdoors in the winter. It was a weird winter season in 2017-18, sometimes cool, sometimes cold, but almost always the days were mostly gray. No shadows and no heat equal no incentive to paint outdoors. It was an easy winter to do errands or take a ride, but without the contrasts created by my friend The Sun, painting a landscape like this took a backseat to studio work this year.

This is my 'go to' subject which is the woods behind the house. A brilliant sun after a light snowfall inspired me to set up inside at the dining room window. I've been watching these cut tree logs since the neighbor cut several trees (which are permanently preserved in many earlier paintings). They seem to change each day, each week, sometimes like they have moved themselves. Naked trees quietly surround them, like mourners for a friend. I worked with color to distinguish the slices, to give them dignity in their sad state. The brilliant shadows of hibernating wetland giants slowly passed across the field as I painted.

I can still see what was there a year or two ago, and wonder about the title. It's a lovely calm winter painting but to me it is a requiem for the fallen trunks.

Standing Tall For Me, oil 12x16 on linen c.2018

Keep the cookies in the cookie jar

I took this drawing from a product design website after I finished my cookie jar painting (below). Before I painted I had made several drawings and had a bit of a challenge to figure out the extension on the lid, it dipped a bit and stuck out, but the plastic didn't hold light or shadow to create the form correctly. I certainly could not attempt a painting until I solved a drawing, but I eventually did. 

The top in the illustration might have helped me see the differences in the shapes.

Whatever. The cookies tasted particularly good, but after we had eaten some of them I saw a painting. Another kitchen item was moved upstairs to the studio for a few days. The first time someone asked "What happened to Elizabeth's cookies?" (my niece had baked and brought them in the jar for Christmas) I was tempted to say "What cookies?"

This crazy shaped, tilted top cookie jar is preserved forever in paint and the contents were delicious. Perhaps this will be next year's Christmas card.

She Brought Cookies, 10x7 on oil paper c.2018

Fall Harvest Sideline

I enjoy slicing, peeling, seeding and cooking fresh vegetables in various combinations, but mostly eating the products of my kitchen time. 

I happened to have an abundance of fresh vegetables on the counter when I noticed an interesting composition with a giant German Red garlic bulb right about the time I had a hankering to push some  oil paint around. The bright red basket usually holds our Christmas cards and was temporarily commandeered to keep the squash and tomatoes. I considered rearranging things but decided the natural grouping was already good. The basket went with me straight to the studio after I added some refrigerated blackberries on the left for balance.

Days later,  the acorn squash tasted particularly good, maybe spending a week in the art room before cooking gave it some extra flavor. I know I am always better after my time in the studio!

Winter Vegetable Basket, oil 9x12 c.2017

Winter Vegetable Basket, Kath Schifano

An interesting development

When I saw clear bags in an email from Judson Art I clicked the link to see if the prices and package sizes would suit my needs. They did! But a few days later I received an email from Judsonsart.com apologizing for using the image of my painting in their advertising without giving me credit.

Oh my, I saw the ad but didn't notice my own painting! 

I said no problem just add my name in the future. The email reply was "whew!"  Apparently someone else had taken a big offense in the past or they misjudged me as a typical New Yorker who would be litigation happy. Nope, not me. If you click the link, you will see the ad and a credit that I painted it.

The painting is "Sunflowers From the Porch"