Sky Scape

9" x 12", oil on panel

I recently read the F. Scott Fitzgerald book, Tender is the Night. He writes, "You will feel your own reflection sliding along the eyes of those who look at you. You are no longer insulated; but I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it." A lot of people base their self-image on being noticed and admired by others. To some degree we all need to feel appreciated. I like this quote because it so astutely puts this mirroring into words. Looking at landscape, at light, at paintings is different. Sky Scape looks a bit like the open skies of the Midwest but also like land after the snow melts heading towards the mud in April. Luminous and peaceful, it is grounded by the purple/brown/black bottom. When I look, I start with where I'm at, myself, look out, take in, and feel lighter. It's a re-energizing process - touching 'life in order to spring from it.' It is a way to feel centered, the opposite of chasing other people's ideas of perfection.

Peggy Orenstein in her new book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, says that culturally it isn't enough for a woman to be smart or a good person. We're supposed to be "hot" too. It's exhausting. I think I'm ready for more wrinkles, for when time takes it out of my hands. Until then I'll try to keep perspective and focus on my own gaze.

Window (Late Fall)

oil on panel

24" x 18"


I recently commented on Vermeer's View of Delft. Another thing, among many, I like about his paintings are the way he treated windows and light. He painted many domestic interiors including solitary women. The window is secondary to the figure, but it is the source of the beautiful light that tenderly illuminates the woman. Unlike Renoir who portrays women as ornamental (basically the only thing I like of his are the peaches which are as boobilicious as his nudes but not offensive to the feminist), it seems that Vermeer respected women. It is the difference between the derogatory term "soccer mom" and mentioning Michelle Obama's name.

This issue concerns me as a mother who is very domestic, shuffling between the studio and kitchen. I love both and don't like my mother/wife role to be dismissed as lesser than my husband's as breadwinner. In this context my vocation as an artist sometimes is perceived as a hobby, especially if the conversation turns to sales and other marketplace-based evaluation. Luckily it doesn't seem to happen as often as it used. Enough venting, I'll leave the rest to Whitney Chadwick who addresses gender roles and societal views in her book, Women, Art, and Society. To be fair, I've heard a musician say that people equate his profession with unemployment and an actor in New York City with waiting tables.

On the male experience of the home and workplace, I found out about an early telecommuter before the "tele". 2009 is the bicentennial of the birthday of Charles Darwin. A recent BBC program, In Our Time with Melvyn Bragg, focused on Darwin's domesticity. He lived in the country with his wife and children in a home where he based his laboratory and garden used for his experiments. Apparently this quiet setting and family support fostered his studies.

Domesticity is the back story to Window (Late Fall), another view from my bathroom window. The landscape, this rectangle, glows. It is like stained glass when fully illuminated by the brightest day. The landscape is far, based on its scale, but then it overtakes you as it presses forward into your space before receding again. The landscape is burned into my retina, seen in quiet moments between the laundry.