These roses grow in a beautiful garden on an estate called Filoli in Woodside, California. Once a private home, it is now in the hands of a foundation that maintains it and makes it available to the public. Surrounded by 16 acres of formal gardens, it’s a parade of glory from the first blossoms in the earliest of spring, through the fall with colorful leaves and fruit hanging from trees. When I was in my 20’s and early 30’s I lived on The Peninsula – south of San Francisco – not far from Filoli. As my first marriage was unravelling, I found my way here and became a member so I could go often. I’m not sure why I didn’t take any pictures on those visits that year, but I do remember the flowers – daffodils and tulips, flowering shrubs – camellias and rhodies, then the peonies and roses along with the annuals and biennials in the cutting gardens: foxglove, delphinium, sweet peas – all the flowers of an English garden. Since I didn’t take pictures, I must have been there to restore my spirit as I faced my uncertain future.
Last May (2015) was my first trip back – 20 years later. Several of the artists in our groups took a trip down to see – and yes, photograph – the flowers. I took several pictures of this one rose – a climber – that was growing back behind the cutting garden cages. There was something about this one – the way the light hit it, the slight down-turn, that grabbed at me. The image needed some re-structuring in Photoshop – there was a bud and one of the leaflets blocking parts of the big rose. When I needed a dose of pink this spring, painting this was just what I needed. The background was fun to paint, one of the more complex I’ve done. Partway through it, I discovered that I had captured some of the chicken wire fence that it was hanging on – a welcome bit of pattern amongst all the organic shapes.
This is an utterly feminine image and painting. I felt a presence – almost that of a female spirit - come through as I was finishing it up, painting the big rose. It was as if I was painting someone’s portrait. The process of naming my paintings can start even before I begin working on them. With some of them, I look at images and wonder what I might name the potential painting. As it was with this one - I’d been pondering what to call it for a while. I wanted to name it “Eden” – the lushness and the intricacy - the mother rose with all her buds around her. But there is a variety of rose called Eden (which this is not) and I didn’t want rosarians to think I’d named the painting after the rose variety. I wanted to invite the viewer all the way back to that first garden. It wasn’t a big leap to go from there to the name we’ve given to that first woman, who inhabited that garden. I present to you “Eve,” in her garden.
22"x30" - April 2016 - Original available - contact me for details
Raindrops are magic. They just are. They hang there for a short while – until they either grow heavy and drop, are blown off by wind or dried up by the sun. When there is sun, they sparkle, becoming even more enchanting. We artists are drawn to them – to paint, to capture and store the delight we have for them. This is a New Dawn climbing rose from a vine that grows on our side fence – over by the garbage cans. By growing roses there, even dumping the trash and recycle can offer a glimpse of beauty. I’ve had this image for a long while. I always thought I’d paint it bigger like four times bigger. But at the start of this year (2016) I made a promise to paint every single day. To help myself keep this promise, I drew this one on a small (15”x15”) square and set myself up with a small palette (about 3”x6”) and squeezed out some of my favorite paints in it. This way I could have something to paint while couldn’t or didn’t want to work on a large painting. I painted on this one in both the SFO and LAX airports and I finished it up along the side of Lake Tahoe on vacation, while I waited for my car to be repaired. In between, it was what I picked up when it was late and I didn’t have the energy for working off the computer on a big one. I painted the whole thing with a #6 cheapie brush plus a tiny scrubber here and there. I so loved having this keep-my-promise painting that I’ve drawn myself another, the same size. And I’ll use the same palette of colors. I think I’m on to something, a painting that I’m not as invested in, that is more play than anything else. There’s also something about the size – painting small sometimes is a challenge – what I want to paint is usually so detailed. But this felt bite-sized. Small plates are a fun way to eat. I see now that small paintings are a fun way to paint!
15"x15" - January - July 2016 - My Private CollectionSizes/Prices: 22"x22" - $395/$495* 15"x15" - $195/$275* 7.5"x7.5" - $60 * hand-torn and painted edges * hand-torn and painted edges
I had been doing an errand for my husband in late spring, dropping something by his friend Bill's on Magnolia in San Anselmo. Uncle Bill, as we call him, has a collection of beautiful roses out front, some of them so old their gnarled trunks look like olive trees - and they are beautiful - never better than in May. This one bush was covered with these beautiful roses, splashed with color - and - it was swarming with honey bees! I've been lusting after another image of with bees and flowers to paint, so I snapped away. Alas, none of those with bees ended up being destined for paint and paper, but this one did. I love how the back is in shadow, but the center glows with sunlight. And somehow, this one needed to be bigger - nearly 30 inches square. Though in real life, this flower is only about three inches across, It has so much life, it needed to be blown way up. I finished it on our Tahoe vacation in July. Joe and I sat one morning tossing about possible names - nothing really stuck. When Brenda came over and saw it, she about fell on the floor, saying it made her heart burst open and that I should call it "Faith." Though I wouldn't have come up with that, it just fit for me. Faith is something that I had just been talking about as a theme in my life right now. It took Brenda to put that together. Now I just need her to tell what me she meant by the connection she sees to the Book of Ruth in the Bible. I'm curious about that. 29"x29" - July 2011 - Original sold Sizes/Prices: 22"x22" - $395/$495* 15"x15" - $195/$275* 7.5"x7.5" - $60 * hand-torn and painted edges
Another large painting! These Graham Thomas roses grow in the same garden as the Persimmons. I was in Jen's garden down the street later in the afternoon one day early this summer to take photos of her Queen Anne cherries - (another painting on the way!). This one had to come first - I had really been missing painting roses. I began working on it mid-September after recovering from the late summer festivals. I finished it the night after the election. It is so filled with my desire for fundamental change in our world - and the anxieties that cropped up before really knowing who would be our next president. It expresses the hope bursting inside me for what's possible for our world.
29"x38" - November 2008 - Original sold
This painting has quite a story. I’ve written a whole post about it so I won’t repeat it all here. Briefly, I started it on a trip to Kauai in 2013 then abandoned it until early in 2015 when I realized it needed a color scheme change. What was mostly red turned into a lot more pink and orange, making me much happier. Then in November 2015 it went through an entire background transplant, requiring lifting the dark background that I’d started with and putting in leaves and “light bubbles.” This meant using gouache – since I’d lost the white of the paper – to paint the leaves in the upper right. This gave me a whole fresh appreciation for the way watercolor on clean white paper transmits luminosity. I so love this medium! I finished it on the second day of 2016 – over two and a half years since starting it. And in doing so, I’ve no longer got any in-progress paintings awaiting my attention in the studio – at one point there were four of them! It seems some pieces of work just have their own timeline. The name for this one, like the one before it – Juicyfruit – simply came to me, without any apparent meaning. "Firelight" just sounded right.
22" x 30" - April 2013 - January 2016 - Original sold
22"x30" - $450/$550*
15"x20" - $250/$325*
7.5"x10" - $75
These roses were growing in a dear friends garden. I worked on this composition in Photoshop, to bring the two images closer and eliminate a spent rose in between. I’ve had this resulting image printed for a few years and have wondered – as I do sometimes – about whether or not it would really make a good painting. I love the tropical-punch colors and the combination of the back side of a rose where the sepals come out – which I think is just as compelling and lovely as the front – and the ¾ view of the other, catching the light just so. I had been working on a painting of end-of-the-season hydrangeas, which was feeling like autumn.
Over the last month (February-March 2016), with all our rain, spring has fully arrived here in Northern California, so I needed something pink or pink-ish to work on instead. Our friendship took a painful turn - and when I realized that I have had a print of this image sitting on the window sill near my painting table in my studio for months, I knew it was the time to paint it. It came through in just three weeks - pretty quickly. Some big shapes (petals and leaves) helped – fine detail takes time to paint!
I’m in a phase these days of embracing imperfection. So, though my critical eye sees things about it that I might have wanted to “fix” in the past, I’m not feeling compelled to do so. I like it just fine as it is. I shifted the colors of the original roses (as the rose bush made them) for both paintings. In Hallelujah they became very orange-red with some of the greenish-ness of yellow ochre in the shadowy parts. In this painting I wanted to bring out the magentas, violets and blues. I exaggerated these colors on the edges and curls of the petals. This rosebush is no longer growing in my friend's yard. It was planted by a previous owner of their house and they had other plans - for a Zen garden in that spot. I’m sorry that it isn’t, as I just loved these flowers and have no idea what variety it is.
As I’ve been grappling with this sudden shift in our relationship, my friend Vicki told me to say to myself the word “together” whenever I think of her. She called it a “magic word.” We are not in each other’s lives now, but whether or not there is a relationship for us in the future, we’ve traveled more than 25 years life’s road with each other and have touched each other indelibly. So I’m certain that some aspect of us – of our spirits and souls – are together in some way, on some plane of existence. It’s the perfect name for this painting.
22"x30" - March 2016 - Original sold
22"x30" - $450/$550*
15"x20" - $250/$325*
7.5"x10" - $75
* hand-torn and painted edges
We generally don't get rain in the Bay Area while roses are in bloom. Though our weather has been anything but usual in the past few years, normally our rainy season ends by March-April and roses come in April-May. The year I took this photo, we had a real downpour in early June. It was a Saturday and I was outside, barefoot in the mud and still in my PJ's taking pictures of the drenched roses. I felt like I was 6 years old! The freedom to get all muddy and wet and in my pajamas, no less! It was such fun. Deciding to paint this and making the drawing came some time later. My mood was heavy and sad. From this vantage point I have no idea why, but I imagine I was resonating with all the water drops as tears. I think because of this, I've been reluctant re-visit those feelings and hadn't really gotten into this painting. I've started and stopped painting it over several years as it kicked around my studio. One morning a few weeks ahead of Open Studios 2014 I woke up with the thought that I didn't have anything new that I could hang in the Open Studios gallery that was small enough for the size restriction. I thought of this one and decided it was time to finish it. Since the drought we've been experiencing with 2013 being the driest year on record, we've all been talking about doing a rain dance to get the skies to open up. It occurred to me that I, along with most Californians, had a new relationship with rain! These drops are not only tears consoling a broken heart, they are life. A rain dance can be the freedom of childhood, drenched by a spring rain, as well as a physical prayer for the environment to provide our life-bringing water supply. Miraculously, this spring we did get enough rain here in Marin County to fill our reservoirs and take us out of peril. Though our hopes are not always fufilled, this is a reminder that sometimes they really are.
30"x22" - April 2014 - Original Sold
It was about six in the evening in early April this year (2014) and I was driving home from Joe’s office. The sun low in the sky, driving by St. Raphael’s church in San Rafael, the light on these Joseph’s Coat roses grabbed my steering wheel and pulled my car over to the side of the street. Good thing there were empty spaces at the curb! A thought flew by about how impulsive I am and I hopped out and took a bunch of photos with just my iPhone. One of the three of this series had to be painted! I messed with the image in Photoshop, combining bits from other views, moving a couple things around and even shifting the color of two of the roses (from reddish to yellow!). It was ready to paint. After finishing “Happy” in early June, I uncharacteristically bounced around between 3 paintings (I am almost always a one-at-a-time ‘til it’s done painter), but couldn’t get into any of them. Mid-July I put them all aside and drew this one. In a color class I taught in June, I was playing with mixing Cobalt Teal Blue (PG 50) – think swimming pool turquoise - with a series of pigments from yellow to coral. I loved the chart of colors that it made, so summery and fresh. I decided to limit myself to those paints and see what happened. I had to add in Pthalo Green (PG 36) in order to get any dark greens (gotta have some dark!). But all the violets and maroons and browny yellows are a made with Cobalt Teal Blue and combinations of blue-reds through yellows. Even the sky – I used no blue pigment. It ended up textured because the Cobalts don’t mix, they separate. Jubilee is another one-word song title. Nineteen years ago, I got divorced to Mary Chapin Carpenter’s Stones in the Road album. The song “(The) Jubilee” met my heart’s desire for my soon-to-be-former husband to come home to “the Jubilee” instead of wandering in the spiritual wilderness. Something we can only wish for each other – we each have our own path. Fast forward (very fast) to a few weeks ago, I saw myself as the wilderness wanderer. I was continuing to torture myself over something that I had done several years ago. One morning, the day after the event had been brought up again, I was working on this painting, when I heard “Jubilee” again. For the first time, I was the one the song was being sung to. I was invited to the land of forgiveness and freedom. Through lots of tears and a few chuckles, I realized how for more than 50 years I’ve lived this life with a tyrannical compulsion to be perfect, and a strong resistance to ever see myself as less than. If I said or did something wrong, or God-forbid, hurt someone, I hung myself from the hook for ever. Jubilee is forgiveness of debt, freedom from slavery and a big, huge celebration – every 50 years. I was asked why I’d included the faded, floppy rose in the composition. Besides it being super fun to paint – all those curls, colors and splotches, it needed to be here. It’s not the “perfect” rose - and it makes this painting for me – it gives it soul. The promise of the bud is sweet, and has its place. But the Jubilee really lives in the rose that has lived more of its life and is still connected to the vine that is hanging from a wooden cross (which I didn’t realize until driving by later!) lit through by the evening sun. Today, for me, that’s perfection.
29"x41" - July-August 2014 - Original sold
Every house I’ve lived in as an adult I’ve planted rosebushes – as many as possible. In the house we are in now the sunniest place is the side yard, where we have to walk around the house to get to. One day around Eastertime 2014, I found myself on the side yard and saw there was one single rose, in full bloom along with one cluster of lilac – from a bush that had yet to bloom, even after several years in the ground. All the rest of the roses were in tight buds, weeks away from flowering. These two blooms showing themselves so early and so all on their own just had to be picked and painted. I set them in a simple small vase and brought them to a sunny spot up on the railing of the upstairs deck and took several photos. I started the painting in June in order to demonstrate for a “Finding the Color in Whites” workshop in July. I layered cobalt blue and cobalt teal blue with yellow and a bit of pink in the shadow - bringing color (and thus life) to it. But then it sat with just the background and the railing painted until the spring of 2015 when it seemed time to pick it back up. Painting the glass was fun, reminding myself to do what I say all the time, “paint what you see.” I then moved on to the lilacs. Ho, Nellie! I like detail, but this is crazy detail! I’d paint for two hours and have done only two or three square inches. I picked my way through it, shape, by shape, blue-violet to red-violet. The rose is a Peace rose, which gave me the working title for this painting – I thought I’d call it simply “Peace.” But when it was done, it didn’t seem right. I have been thinking that there’d be a painting at some point that I’d call “Still.” Like “Rest,” “Still” has more than one meaning – there’s the calm, quiet, not moving sense as well as continuing, enduring. Somehow both of these fit for me. Looking at this painting (when I’m able to see beyond the parts that still bother me) I feel the reminder to be still and still be.
30"x22" - April 2015 - Original sold
There must be something about this time of year. Coming out of winter, having just painted something that had more muted colors, just as last year, I crave bright, intense, warm colors. Last year I painted "Awakening," Joseph's Coat roses growing in my mother-in-law's garden in Corte Madera. This year I've painted Joseph's Coat roses growing in my mom's garden in Woodacre. Nice symmetry. Though they are the same variety of rose, the two paintings have quite a different feel to me. The two roses in "Awakening" are both in full sun, opening to the light. The main rose in this one is lit from behind, with the surrounding roses getting most of the light. Yet, they don't keep the light from making its way through. There is a quiet receptivity to this image that gives me peace and is a reminder of that part of me that can be a bit more private and still be radiant. And I was drawn to other aspects of this image - the cobalt blue-violet in the upper right and the deep green leaves. Though there are differences, it does make a nice companion to "Awakening." My two moms and the love of roses I share with them.
22"x30" - March 2012 - Original Sold
22"x30" - $450/$550*
15"x20" - $250/$325*
7.5"x10" - $75
hand-torn and painted edges
Honey Bee and Rugosa Roses
One bright day summer day, as I headed out to our side yard to dump the compost bucket, the color of these Rugosa Roses grabbed my eye. I ran back out with my camera and hopped up on the rock wall to capture the flowers. Some honey bees had come flying around - my heart jumped with delight. There were some images with two bees, but this one, with the solo bee flying into the cupped flower was the ONE I had to paint. This painting came through nearly in its entirety on a 10-day trip to Kauai. The intense color that had grabbed my eye was hard to reproduce with watercolor - and I'd never worked with quinacridone paints so saturated like this. Even dry, they move around easily, making layering difficult -- in every painting I find a new challenge. I painted the bee last - a fun treat. Honey bees are sweet, docile creatures that are the link to our food supply and their populations are dwindling - baffling scientists. This painting expresses my appreciation for them. Next to paint one pollinating a food plant.
22"x30" - November 2008 - Jennifer Stokes
Honey Bee and Rugosa RosesRoses
This painting filled a craving. Once I got the previous painting finished so clients could have a giclee of it, my insides called out to paint with yellows, pinks and oranges. It took just about two weeks from start to finish - pretty quick for me - and it was so much fun! My brush water bucket was the most gorgeous peachy orange color - it looked like it would taste good like some some fruity tropical nectar. This painting reminds me that color is a nutrient - it fills a need that I have - and I know I'm not alone! Yummy is not just for our taste buds and noses! These are Joseph's Coat roses from my mother-in-law Evelyn's front garden in her home in Corte Madera. In painting them, I was struck by how the same plant makes these two incredibly different blooms. Not only are the colors of the petals clearly different, but how the stamens in the two flowers are different shapes and sizes. I gain so much intimate knowledge about my painting subjects in the process of painting them. There is so much we can learn if we pay close attention to what is right here in our midst.
22"x30" - April 2011 - Original Sold
Early in 2010 I was in an art store and saw sheets of heavy watercolor paper that were twice as large as I'd seen before. I had been under the impression that if I wanted to paint larger than 30"x40" I had to go to roll paper, which is much thinner and a challenge to paint on. I got so excited, I bought all 5 sheets they had in stock. I've been wanting to paint big for a while and now I was equipped! Then BJ (our doggy) died and the energy was out of my sails for "going big." The summer of 2011 the call came back. At some point I had settled upon this image as one of those that could take being blown up so drastically. Not every image can. There is a lot of detail in this one that would have made it challenging to paint small, in fact. I started on it during our Tahoe trip at the end of July after finishing Faith (also in the Rose Gallery). As the days marched on, it seemed that the painting and the amount of work left to do actually grew! The last week I had to really focus and work hard, with the Tiburon festival the weekend before, it was a challenge to keep sourcing the energy. All the while, I was wondering what the heck I was going to name this big piece. Then one morning, really early, I was listening to a playlist of songs on my iPod, my comfy headset making gorgeous sound and k.d. lang's incredibly emotional version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah started playing. The lyrics refer to a "broken hallelujah" and the title dropped out of the music. "Hallelujah" - praise God, yes! I am so fed by color, light, astonishing beauty, even and especially amidst scratches, teary water drips and brokenness. The process of naming these paintings - especially the more recent florals - is truly led by the spirit - well, actually all of life is really - I just have to remember it.
60"x40" - August 2011 - Original Sold
No matter how much we want to, some experiences cannot be repeated. I'm thinking about a meal eaten in a bar with a girlfriend in Paris. It was fettuccine with cream and smoked salmon which was delivered to us from the brasserie across the street by the bartenders because they didn't want us to leave and we were hungry! it may have been the drinks and the footloose mood but that pasta tasted amazing! Ordering the same dish on trip back was so not the same - not even close! I feel this way about some of the paintings I've done! (What a way to introduce a new painting, huh?!) I was playing around with roses and my camera in an attempt to paint another small painting like "Full Circle" which has been so well received and one that I love so much, I'm keeping the original myself. This lovely green glass cup was a gift from my sister(-in-law) Annie and is perched on the top of the fence in our side yard. When I was looking for something to demonstrate in my "fuzzy background" class, this one called out to me. The composition needed some work first, though. I took elements from two different shots and combined them in Photoshop until it sang to me - yes, paint me! But it was just not to be small (11"x15") like Full Circle. I could actually see it all painted on a full sheet (22"x30"). Some things just can't be repeated! They have to be their own thing! The past few summers have seemed to just zoom by. At the end of them it has felt to me that we hardly had a summer. I was determined to take time to enjoy this summer. Part of that was spending a few days with my dear Sister Mary at a special place in Bolinas and worked some time on this painting while enjoying the spectacular view of the ocean. Back home, finishing it up, my playlist included Gershwin's "Summertime." Listening to this song it seemed like the right name. The livin' is easy. My reminder to take time to enjoy, to rest, to enjoy the summer sun.
22"x30" - July 2013 - Original sold
This painting came from a photo I took of these roses that were hanging from a trellis in a rose allee in the Jardin de Plantes on a trip back to Paris, in late May, 1998. This was before I'd really begun painting in earnest. Yet, the photograph stayed with me. I had been wanting to paint it for a long, long time - in 2000, I did a few quick watercolor sketches, which showed me both the potential of this image and how painting these roses quickly was not going to be satisfying. It had frightened me to attempt to paint it - that the finished painting could never express what I felt looking at the image. I started on the yellowish center rose, then left it lying undone for a while. I see now that I had to trust the process. When I came back to it, I just painted one petal at a time. And then it hooked me in - it couldn't wait to get time to work on it. Finishing this painting was a turning point. My courage and work had raised to a new level. This is the second of my paintings to sell. My friend Victoria Bentley bought it because of the way it moved her just looking at a scan of it I e-mailed to her! She said when she saw it, it took her to a place inside that she didn't even know existed. Several years later, David and Cindy told me they would love to have had this painting, never thinking they could. I put this out to Vicki as she had since put her life and much of her resources into her cause in Africa Empower Congo Women. It happened to come at a perfect time when she needed to fund a project. Now David and Cindy have Paris Roses, Vicki has a specially-embellished giclee and children's school fees in Africa have been paid.
22"x30" - December 2005 - David and Cindy Weaver
Paris RosesParis, Roses
This is a deeply personal painting. In the late summer of 1995 I left a very difficult 14 year marriage. Days after leaving I wrote in my journal I wanted to live and work in Paris. The next spring I moved to Paris to work for a small software company for six months before helping to establish their San Francisco office. While there, one Saturday I was looking at a Victoria magazine that had been forwarded in my mail from home and saw a candle from a shop called Dyptique. I could see the address in the label on the candle in the magazine - it was a short walk from my apartment. I went that day and bought a rose-scented candle. When I came back to Marin, I was fortunate to be able to buy myself a little house in San Anselmo, where I planted many rosebushes. The candle had since burned to the end and the glass cup made a lovely little vase. I set up this still life one weekend and took several photos. Then I met my real love. We married, endured a bout of cancer together. It wasn't until facing my grief at not being a mother, while spending a week at a wonderful spa in Mexico where I re-found my loveliness, that this painting came out of me. To Paris and back - to myself.
11"x15" - August - December, 2004 - My Private Collection
Full CircleParis, Roses
One day last summer, in the midst of all the art activities, I found a moment to pick some roses and put them on the deep window sill in my studio. It was evening, the sun starting to sink, I noticed the light streaming through the vase alongside a candle holder and a purple heart paperweight - both gifts from dear friends. The light and colors stopped me for a deeper look. I captured it so that I could bring it out with paint this winter. This painting describes my appreciation for so much - beauty, light, color, roses and treasured relationships. I loved painting the reflections on the sill and the light coming through the 200 year-old live oak in the front of our house. This painting won an Honorable Mention ribbon at the 2008 Marin County Fair Fine Art Exhibit.
30"x22" - February 2008 - Joanne Cormier
L'Hay les Roses is an absolutely phenomenal and overwhelming rose garden in a suburb south of Paris. I visited it one Saturday in June, several weeks after arriving in France in 1996. It had been gray and cloudy since I'd arrived. This was the first sunny weekend and I was buoyant and eager. The underside of this rose growing skyward caught my eye. I love interesting perspectives. Painting it I kept fretting that it was going to be a too-sweet, grandma painting, ugh. I painted the sky last. I had an awful time getting the even, clear wash I wanted. I was convinced I'd ruined it. Creative impulses were fed by my aghast and frustration. I got a 4" house painting brush out of the garage, moved outside on the patio table, painted standing up and just slapped on a lot more paint and water, dropping in new colors. The now on-purpose textured sky is deeper and the painting far more interesting than it would have been. This is a life-in-full-color sky!
30"x22" - July 2007 - Original Sold
One of the masters who inspires my work is Joseph Raffael. I get e-mail updates of his work. One day there was this message with a painting of pale roses with pink edges called "Roses Reverie" that knocked my socks off - and it kicked off a hunger in me to paint similar roses. Following this, I took photos of some Moonstone roses in my back yard. There just wasn't a composition of a group of them like he had painted that worked. But this single rose did. I just loved the way that one petal curled out to the right. It turns out that this painting for me was all about the leaves and not so much the rose. Painting the light on the leaves was why I had to do this one. I left painting the bud to the end, (with most of my paintings I paint the "centerpiece" last) and it was actually anti-climactic. Now, when I look at this painting I see elegance and self-assurance, I think of the first two lines of one of my favorite poems: "St Francis and the Sow" by Galway Kinnell and the powerful meaning this poem has had for me.
"The bud stands for all things, for all things flower from within of self blessing."
30"x22" - January 2007 - Original available - contact me for details
30"x22" - $450/$550*
20"x15" - $250/$325*
10"x7.5" - $75
Moonstone RoseOriginals, Roses
Roses for Annie
This painting really frightened me. I think it was drawn on the watercolor paper for over a year before I put a brush to it. These roses were growing at the AARS test garden at Garden Valley Ranch in Petaluma. I have no idea what variety they are, or if they even became one. Annie is my sister-in-law. I was inspired by her fiery energy to paint these wildly detailed roses.
15"x22" - October 2004 - Original Sold
Roses for AnnieRoses
This photo was taken in the garden at friends Dean and Nancy's home in Fairfax. It's the first thing I'd painted in many years, and the first of blurry photo backgrounds I'd attempted to paint. It's where I started to get real depth in my paintings. I saw how much more interesting it is to paint a flower in context. The fence behind this rose places it in space. The painting has a three dimensional quality to it. I learned not to use black watercolor because of this painting. I used black pigment in the bottom right corner and it looks sooty and flat. Now with the wonder of my newly learned Photoshop skills, I've warmed it up for the giclee prints!
15"x11" - 2000 - Original NFS