I was apprehensive, not entirely sure what would be asked of me.
Surrounded by a few feet of snow and a cold snap that's breaking records, I'm reminded of a set of watercolor paintings I made for holiday notecards years ago.
A few months after my 24th birthday, I am sitting on a padded folding chair in a carpeted hallway outside an office identical to countless others in the thousands of look-a-like meeting houses across Happy Valley and beyond.
Wyeth’s minimal palette creates such moving, striking atmospheres for his work. His scenes are bleak, haunting, isolated, and yet, they invite us to stare deeper, longer, sussing out all the remarkable details contained within them. The above is a study of The Granary, painted by Wyeth in 1961.
I can’t trace it back to its origins, nor can I recall a time without it: Church-related socializing created a wellspring of anxiety inside me. Any gathering,…… Read more “part one”
Well. I have to say that 2017 is not off to a stellar start. It doesn’t help that for so many of us, we only got through…… Read more “may your life be a Walden Pond swim”
A DIY wine-and-paint night.
Tomorrow, somehow, is October first. September was fast and slow and everything in between. It was also crazy. But in a good way. Is there a positive version…… Read more “far from any road”
Week-long work trips always make for some interesting stories.