July 8th

After a week in County Mayo, I arrived at the Tryone Guthrie Center. I am inland - away from the edge of the sea - in the lush green hills outside of the village of Newbliss, County Monaghan near the border of Northern Ireland. Everything is exquisite from the home, studio, grounds and the food served by the lovely staff.

I am in the group of nine new arrivals — along with a few artists ending their first week — gathered for dinner tonight. Musicians, writers, dancers and visual artists from Ireland, Seattle, Texas and beyond. An talented group of professionals artists having a respite to fine tune their craft, work on existing projects or wander into new ideas of exploration.

The estate belonged to Sir William Tyrone Guthrie - an English theatrical director instrumental in the founding of Stratford Festival of Canada the Guthrie Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota and this Center at his family’s ancestral home. He is famous for his original approach to Shakespeare and modern drama. (thank you Wikipedia)

I feel so honored to be here.

View from my studio.

July 9

First day, new adventure. I awoke to this view outside my window. (I have a private room in the home.) I was having imposter syndrome last night and now I have princess syndrome - if there is such a thing.

I spent the morning walking around sketching and getting settled into my studio. I feel like I have already over-used the word “lovely” but it best describes every view, space and encounter with the staff and fellow residents.

I have come with the only one intention - to play in my studio. To get a sense of this new environment and experiment with materials. I know that I am most at home at the edge of the sea but this opportunity will push me to re-think line, shape and color. Recently, I have been working with found wood (see Towers) and was curious if by using three dimensional materials, would I approach the landscape differently in painting. I certainly have!

These are a few studies I did at Bunathirhir Bay— a familiar painting spot when a resident at Ballinglen Arts Foundation in Ballycastle in 2017 and 2018. I am definitely seeing shape/form differently. Who knows what will be next?

I do know that we are served dinner every night at 7PM which fortunately won’t change no matter what pickle I might find myself in in the studio. It is comforting to know we are in such good care here. Great food and conversation. It’s lovely.

July 10

Day two. Getting myself into a rhythm. Here’s my daily plan: two sketches, start a painting or sculpture (although I have no supplies for 3D work) and take two walks. Of course, I will not stick to this schedule but being a terrier, I need a job and a list. Already, I am not sure what to do with all this green in the landscape. Yesterday afternoon, I went back through my sketches from County Mayo and started a painting sketch.

Sketch of Achill Island. Beach at Doogart. Still love those rocks.

Painting from sketch…. overworked —lost the energy in the drawing. What the heck.

So, this morning, I knew it was time to find some more material. (Painting is not going to hold my interest/be successful until I find an image or two to ponder.)

I hitched a ride with a resident painter to Coothill to find a hardware store.

But first I must tell you about my dear friend, Frankie who gave me a lift over to this Center from Ballycastle. I had mentioned I was looking for “found wood” —like painted woo from and old shed - and he showed up with some molding and a leg from a bed. You just have to love his willingness to help me. I played around with the materials yesterday.

Rather quirky. Used the wood molding as the intersection of line and form. I sanded the leg to give it texture and then painted the white shape to bring another light area for contrast. It is a reference to the shape of the metal frame for the bed and the foot.

OK Now - back to my day. Fun trip into town. I came back with a saw, paints and a bag of kindling for my “found wood”. Seriously, what was I thinking? I need little pieces since I have to fly all this art stuff back over the pond.

Spent the rest of the afternoon, painting kindling and playing with shapes. Here are a few for fun:

These are size of starter kindling…. around 7 inches in length. The top one - black house paint and wood; the bottom one - graphite with letter stencil and wood.

July 11

The sun came out today. It’s been cloudy and cold all week. I spent a leisurely breakfast around the table with other residents - two poets, two writers, a song writer for musicals and me. Doesn’t that sound enjoyable! Everyone is so delighted to be here and it shows in their generosity in telling stories. Afterwards, I took a long walk over to a dairy farm. Enjoyed the fresh air and sketched along the way,

Typical view on most of my walks.

quick doodle of abstract shapes of barns and silo on a hilltop

It’s absolutely gorgeous here but what interests me most are the shapes of buildings—which surprises me. Those pick up sticks of kindling are driving my thoughts and how I am seeing the landscape. Back in the studio, I continued playing around with those sticks. I could do them all day long —wait —I am doing them all day long!

July 12

It’s Friday. Feels like the end of the week. Everyone has been working diligently in their studios.. Twelve in the group will leave on Monday. There is so much talent here….poets, composers, writers, theater maker, dancer and visual artists. Some published, some on their way. Most working on a project.

I have had fun with my little sticks. It has opened up a new world for me. I am seeing the landscape and shapes so differently. I am reminded of a quote from artist Anselm Kiefer, German painter and sculptor who incorporates materials such as straw, ash, clay, lead, and shellac in his large-scale work.

The spirit is already in the materials.

Although my these little wall pieces are only 3 x 7 inches, I agree with his comment. Each piece of wood has it’s own vitality -the color and shape in how they were splintered - the way the light hits the edge. You can feel its history.

Upon arrival, I was drawn to the trees for my subject matter. And always when walking past logging areas in the forests, it brings a larger meaning to using kindling that is burned for warmth. And as with life cycles, it’s good to see new pines growing in the harvested fields near by.

I have completed twelve little works - all lined up on my studio floor. When I come in each morning, my sticks and I chat about which ones are still working—who might not feel comfortable. So far, the whole group is happy with its neighbors. No complaints yet.

July 14

It’s pack-up day for half the folks, tomorrow, others will leave. Four of us remain. Someone has to do it.

In the afternoon, eight of us when out for a pint in Coothill. It was a hoot. The bar is also a mortuary. A wake was taking place on the back right side of the pub. We sat on the other side while a group of men gathered at the bar to watch Donegal play Galway in Gaelic football. Fortunately, the taxi picked us up and we made it back three minutes before the dinner gong—a smaller gathering around the table. It was good to take a day off and a great ending to the week.

Here are some pictures from the week. And I have to mention the birds! Eurasian Jays squawking in the trees on my evening walks, noisy wrens, treecreepers, goldcrests, common chatfinches, redstarts, on and on. One afternoon, there was all this fuss out my studio door—little birds in a panic—on a branch, a sparrowhawk.

Tomorrow I will wash clothes and start pondering what the week will bring.I have an artist and a poet on my mind:

Irish painter William Crozier: https://www.whytes.ie/artist/william-crozier/17843/

His sense of color and energy in how he applies the paint touches an emotional chord in me. I am also reading the poetry of Patrick Kavanugh who lived near byThe Center here in County Monaghan. He and William Crozier were good friends and is credited with influencing Crozier’s thinking about Ireland and to paint its landscape.

I might return to painting but that pile of kindling is still tugging at me. Before I leave last week’s work, here’s one more- my interpretation of the gates around the area.

The gate

Seems quirkier as a vertical.

July 13

It’s like the Waltons in the kitchen. Everyone is wearing smiles. No one seems to be in a hurry. Tonight is “Show and Tell” — anyone interested in sharing their work will have an opportunity to present to the group. And — its a summer day, finally. I spend some time in my studio cleaning up for the studio visit. Out my window, I watched the Director leisurely move through her Saturday morning—taking out the trash, pruning roses.

On my morning walk, I came upon a father and son are preparing a field for the arrival of three donkeys. We had a delightful chat – my ears new to the County Monaghan accent but I able to catch that green grass will make the donkeys sick - they need to eat rough grass. I sketched their tractor while they discussed how best to cover a ditch on the site.

On my afternoon walk, I returned to find the donkeys looking rather perplexed in their new surroundings.

And tonight’s “Show and Tell” was magical. We started at 6PM with a dance, visited visual artists’s studios and after dinner, all retired to the drawing room for poetry, book and screen-play readings and music. The sun went down as the room filled with light.

July 15

Everyday I head out on a walk to sketch as well as sketch objects in my studio. Each sketch is to keep my mind active. Thanks to a workshop with Stuart Shils, I sketch and then collage the drawing to give me a foundation for building a stronger composition. While I am waiting for paint to dry - here are some:

This afternoon, I decided to go gather more firewood. I plan to incorporate the commercial kindling with the wood chips from the harvest site. I walked up the hill today - it felt like a sanctuary. All the limbs are strewn across the ground to hold the logging trucks. Skinny oak trees on the edge now in full sunlight yet they are bending over like they are mourning.

The Sitka spruce is not native to Ireland but has become suitable for the wet, mild climate. And harvesting.

Below—marking of a chainsaw cut, pinecones and harvested hill.

I came back to the studio and worked on this piece using a wood chip I found on the site with the painted commercial kindling.

Last night, a new group of delightful, talented folks gathered around the table. Writers, musicians and a visual artist. Again, I feel honored to be surrounded by all this creativity in a lovely setting. Note: I am not taking pics or listing names of participants out of respect. It would be like following them around asking for their autograph. And my time needs to be spent working on new ideas. I hope you are up to something wonderful.

July 16

Geez, it’s Tuesday. I better start getting on with it as they say here in Ireland. I was thinking about how different this residency has been for me. Usually I am running around in a panic, trying this and that and then I settle in to work. This time, thanks to a bag of wood chips, house paint and a saw, I just quietly started. I am not saying what I am up is necessarily grand ( also Irish) but it has put me in a more meditative, searching state. I am on the surface floating hoping to dive deeper at some point. I had thought I would add color and go larger—but the oils take forever to dry. And, I can’t bring logs on a plane.

This morning, I came in early into my studio and started moving around some little sticks that I had set aside last week. The nuance of their natural colors—side by side—were magical. I am finding it hard to manipulate the surfaces- bring in a heavy hand on top of such beautiful hues. So, here you go. I sketched a patch of graphite on the lower stick, sawed off the edges to create a little rhythm and there you go. I think of them as poems.

On this one, I only added graphite on the top of the right stick just to bring add little more contrast.

I know I was planning on painting. I will start tomorrow. It will be a total shift in my thinking.

This evening while walking, I pulled out my Seek App and looked up the flowers along the way: false foxglove, meadow buttercup, rose spirea, brabble, marsh thistle, tufted vetch and Henderson’s Angelica and meadow sweet. Good company.

July 17

I spent time yesterday with Polo, a sweetie pie pup. I had seen him around, following a gentleman walking his dog. It seems his owner is away during the week so the man’s mother comes to the house at night to feed Polo and two chickens. He was hanging out with the gardener and of course, we became pals. I am a total push- over for pups. In my studio, he went right for all my sticks on the floor. I thought —anyone reading this will be glad there is one less stick to me to ponder.

I did paint today. I plugged into jazz musician, Bill Evans and started making marks. With shapes on my mind, I went to the favorite animals on my walks—the dairy cows. The black and white bodies create crazy patterns in the green fields.

I am a different person working with paint than with wood. The wood already has a soul. With paint, I am looking for an emotion. Turn up the music, fill the brush with the ooze of color and have fun. Painting cows is not my goal. I strive to let the color dance on the paper.

Yesterday evening, I walked Polo back to his cottage at the end of the lane. No food or water yet. And, of course, he followed me back to the Center. On the way back, he lead me to the lake to throw sticks for him. At dinnertime, I learned, understandably that it was best not to encourage him. I watched out the window while he sat in the rain. A fellow artist went to his studio around 10 PM and he hung out with him a while. I went to bed worrying about the little fellow.

July 18

I can’t believe it is already Thursday and I can’t believe I didn’t think about painting in oils earlier so they would dry a bit before I fly home. What the heck. I am here to enjoy moving paint around in a new landscape.

Looking at sticks all week, I find myself seeing blocks of color up and down the road. I am expanding my dairy cow theme here today. I make some marks, wait for it to dry a bit and then continue. Started this one today.

It was a rather chilly misty day. Polo, my pal and I took a break, threw sticks in the water and then came back and I worked on my cow study. He made himself a bed out of a piece of plastic on the floor. Shivering from the dampness, I covered him with my coat. A lovely afternoon working in the studio.

I was planning on channeling the painter William Crozier today but I seem to be calling up the French painter Nicholas DeStael with my square blocks of color. Those little sticks are really changing how I see.

Nicholas DeStael: https://www.wikiart.org/en/nicolas-de-sta-l

(I am not highlighting their work in the blog to avoid any copyright issues - hope you will look at their work.)

Here are some of the cows I walk past daily.

I have done all I plan to do on this work for now. I doesn’t look like my work at all. HA. I debated whether to put in the hills. I think I like the reference of the blue mark in the first one—just a suggestion of their surrounding. It’s clear I am thinking too much. Need to get back to spontaneity in my mark marking, Back to Bill Evans jazz in my ear.

I have more orange squares to play with tomorrow.

July 19

Days are starting to wind down here, I leave for Dublin on Monday. Chilly, rainy day here.

I was afraid I was heading towards making Hallmark greeting cards with those cows so went to where I am most comfortable - loose, gesture drawings. The first one is oil on paper, the pair are house paint on paper - left over from my stick days.

The one below is my favorite of the group. More abstract. Think I am now channeling Irish-English painter, Francis Bacon. Website:https://www.artnet.com/artists/francis-bacon/study-from-human-body-1987-a-KlThnkr_7uNxKwdTLmSX7w2

I am really having fun with the cows, All my phone pictures have green shrubbery in the front so I guessing about where to find their knobby knees. But then again, I am not painting cows,

I am trying to catch patterns of light and dark.

Speaking of sticks. I have had a new focus this week. No painting - just graphite, sander and a saw. Here are a few below. (Funny, the ones I did last week seem so noisy to me now.) These are letting the spirit of the wood lead the way.

This morning, I opened my window and Polo, the pup was sitting up on the hill. We have had two full days together. I am feeling rather attached. This morning, concerned he has not eaten, I started walking him back home. We ran into the same man I met the first day when I met Polo –Fred and his dog Sue. I knew it was routine for Fred to pick up Polo at his house for a walk, so he took off with them. I have to admit, I stood there watching them walk down the path feeling like my child was going to the first day of school. I didn’t see him the rest of the day.

Feeling dog lonely, I walked over the hill to see Freddy who always greets me with a smile. He immediately rolls over in the street for a belly rub. Perfect medicine.

July 20

It’s Sunday morning as I write this last post. Today, I will pack up my little sticks and paintings.Clean my studio. In the afternoon, a group of us will venture back over to the pub in Coothill for merriment and watch a game of hurling — the oldest and fastest field sport in the world. On Monday, I will catch a ride to the bus station and make my way to Dublin. Before I leave, I will walk past the harvested trees, up the hill to get one more smile from Freddy.

But first, I want to show you this picture below. When I came to my studio, there was a dead bird at my door. A short-toed tree creeper had hit the glass. Obviously, it was upsetting to find her. I wrapped her in a paper towel and will bury her under the trees outside my studio door. A close-up photograph of her body was stunning. There, like a fractal of nature staring at me - the forests of County Monaghan.

 I finished packing and took a nice long walk. I stopped to say good-bye to the donkeys. And to the cows who inspired my painting sketches. I know - intellectually - that they come to the fence hoping for food but emotionally, I chose to believe that these moments are communion.

The animals have taught me about the rhythm of life here in County Monaghan - how they move through the day as tractors roll up and down the hills.  They are the heartbeat of country life. I am thankful for the spirit of the forests, the birds and the soft days of mist. I am thankful for the staff who served us delicious meals and the kindness of strangers as I walked the roads. And, thank you for following along with me.

Early this morning, I sat in the sunroom and read this poem by Patrick Kavanaugh, a farmer-poet who grew up down the road. I am not ready to return to all the noise in America.

October, 1943

And the rain coming down, and the rain coming down!

How lovely it falls on the rick well headed,

On the potato pits thatched on the turf clamps home,

On the roofs of the byre where the cows are bedded!

And the sun is shining down, and the sun is shining down!

How bright on the turnip leaves, on the stubble —

Where turkeys tip-toe across the ridges—

In the corner of peace in a world of trouble.

My last cow study

I expected to be in the company of talented and generous artists but I didn’t know we would have these wonderful evenings of sharing our craft. And that last night, the orange full moon would rise over the lake. Everything and everyone has been such a gift.

And, I never expected to be charmed by a little white-haired Irish man with four legs.

I never saw him again.

He has probably ventured off down another road to break someone else’s heart.

Polo waiting for me at my studio door