Flame and Flower

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

Life

30 x 40 Acrylic on Canvas

Life

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

 Maybe it's nostalgia, maybe not, but I've been longing for the clarity and freedom of pure abstract (an abstraction from an object) and what we used to call non-objective (not of any object) paintings. Unlike most people, I didn't start by drawing thing. I started painting after I found Jackson Pollack and field paintings. Anyway, here's a couple of my recent attempts at revisiting that.

Looking into the valley

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

In the Distance

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

Pine Tree

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas 

Pine trees are disappearing at an alarming rate in this area. Thought I'd catch one while it still looks healthy.

Two more "Storm" pictures

Both 16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

Storm

16 x 20 Acrylic on canvas

View of the Arkansas

16 x 20, Acrylic on canvas 

It's an odd thing to me, since I really prefer very abstract paintings, that I tend to slowly lean further and further toward realism as I work on a subject. The previous painting is a perfect example. It bothered me for several days, so I went back in and, using the same photo to work from, did the tree by the Arkansas river in a more abstract manner. I like this a lot better, personally.

River View

16 x 20, Acrylic on canvass 

Nesting places available. River View. Free of charge.

Ever wonder what trees gossip about?

16 x 20 Acrylic on Canvas

Homesick for Joshua Tree

All are Acrylic on Canvas, 16 x 20

I just spent the morning selecting these to send to a show at Joshua Tree National Park this fall. Made me so homesick for So Cal and especially Palm Springs and my weekly painting trips to Joshua Tree. What a beautiful place!

The Old Soldier

16 x 20, acrylic on canvas 

 This fine old tree called to me as I drove down a road in Broken Arrow. When we stopped and I walked up to it, I thought of a photo I had seen of my father’s great-grandfather, who emigrated to the US from England to fight in our civil war. An Andersonville survivor, there he stood, many years later, shortly after my father’s birth, staring out at me, back straight, head held high, a steady gaze that belied his age. This tree was probably only a small sapling when that photo was taken, nearly a hundred years ago. But he looks like it, now. An old soldier. Wounded but not defeated, strong, sound and not bowed. A survivor, with a strength that comes from within and withstands any storm the world can throw at him.

The Welome Tree

Acrylic on canvas 16 x 20

 This tree looked so inviting, like it would be a happy place for a squirrel or bird to sit for a while. I think lots of animals think of it as a friend.

Storm clouds over the park

Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 30 

One of the things I love the most about living in Tulsa is the storms. I've lived on both coasts and the desert and no place has great storms like here! It's no wonder there are so many churches here. One look at these clouds, wind howling, lightning flashing, next thing you know, they got religion!

Downtown Tulsa

Acrylic on Canvas, 16 x 20

Windstorm over the desert

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

Lonely River

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

View from our front door

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

Self Portrait

Digital photo abstraction

Little church with a big soul

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

Branches in water

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

Meeting a new friend

Acrylic on canvas 30 x 40

South Pasture

Acrylic on canvas, 30 x 40

Storm Coming

Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20

Spring Hope

I called this "Spring Hope" when I drew it a couple of months ago.  I'm not sure but I think I was hoping this year will be better than last.  And so far, so good.  Last year I watched the hall of fame game in my hospital room with IV bags and heart monitors.  Last night, I watched it in my own living room with my wonderful husband, a slice of pizza and a beer.  Yep, much better!
Pen and Ink and Acrylic

Charlotte and Spenser

Eye

Enough said

Grateful Rain

Acrylic on Canvas

Hello Ananda

16 x 20 acrylic on stretched canvas

Sooner or later, the cloud will change into rain or snow or ice. If you look deeply into the rain, you can see the cloud. The cloud is not lost; it is transformed into rain, and the rain is transformed into grass and the grass into cows and then to milk and then into the ice cream you eat. Today if you eat an ice cream, give yourself time to look at the ice cream and say: "Hello, cloud! I recognize you.”
― Thích Nhất Hạnh, No Death, No Fear   

Our beautiful canary, Ananda has left us, left his cage, to fly free and to become one with the clouds.  Today, if I eat an ice cream, I say, “Hello Ananda.”