MORNING WALK

 48x36" oil on canvas

"I think a death, or a loss, of someone very close to you, does something to you that you can't get any other way."
                          Andrew Wyeth speaking about the loss of his father N.C. Wyeth


Clearly, I’m no Andrew Wyeth, that’s not my point. This quote could have come from anyone, it was just a nice happenstance that it emanated from the mind of an artist and particularly one that I worship. It meant so much more to me that way.

I watched "The Wyeth's: A Father and His Family" on the the Smithsonian Channel the other night. I was left with a deep sense of longing for a father like N.C. for one thing and an acute sense of how differently things look to me now that Tim is no longer a part of my physical life for another. That said, it occurred to me that this marriage really isn't over, it just exists on two different planes for the time being. That thought makes me smile.

As I mentioned in my last post, painting feels wonderful. I don't feel the need to apologize, agonize or do the "who me?..aw shucks" shuffle.  It is what it is and the results are what they are. They mean nothing in the scheme of things. Nothing is solved by a particularly good painting, nor is anything harmed by a particularly bad one. I'm still me. Tim's still gone. What difference does it make?

And, I want to continue honoring the memory of my very best friend in the world, however I don’t want each post to be a funeral march to the cadence of my lingering sorrow and grief. I don’t want visitors to my blog to be met with yet another installment of my deep sense of loss. I know that Tim wants me to work. He wants me to realize my potential and he wants me to be happy, and I don’t plan on disappointing him.

I began walking the boys two days after Tim passed. We have a rather sizable back yard and had grown far too comfortable just letting them out into the fenced expanse of space to play, do their business and get the exercise they needed. I felt walking was something we could all benefit from, so I bought two turquoise harnesses and began walking them three times a day.

The fresh air and exercise helps the three of us and we look forward to it every day that it doesn't rain. In the hushed silence of the morning, listening to the noises they make, watching their ears flopping up and down and their little cute bottoms sway as they walked, I couldn't help but think it might be a good idea to paint them doing just that, but from the leash point of view.

I bought the largest canvas I've worked on to date - 48x36" from Dick Blick (gotta love that name). Anyway, I've always used the Premier Gallery canvas for my work but decided to try the Premier Heavyweight cotton for the first time. I'm hooked. The paint just settles on the surface so nicely and the finished look is something I've longed for. Who knew?

I'll be taking the camera on our walks now and then and snap away until I get a shot I like. This one really hit that sweet spot inside and I couldn't wait to paint it. I thought I'd spend weeks doing the asphalt but actually spent only about 30 minutes splashing it on and just leaving some of the black painted surface of the canvas to explain the road texture. I have a few more details to iron out and some shadow and highlight to fix but that's about it.

I think Tim is pleased. With both the painting and my not putting all of my sense-of-self eggs into one ability-to-paint basket.

Thank you again for your caring, support, words of comfort and interest in my work. I'm very fortunate to have so many wonderful friends.