New Exhibition: Winter Seeds Promise
An unbroken field with outbreaks of blue | Oil & graphite on wood | © Laurie Doctor
I thought about not posting today, not on this election day in the USA, (my practice being the first Tuesday of the month ), but then I thought what better time to hear Denise Levertov’s poem Concurrence that she wrote during another time of cultural upheaval — the Viet Nam War? What better time to be reminded that while there may be “madmen at the wheel” there is also the timeless faultless blue of a morning glory, or a bluebird, or sky. There is comfort in unexpected outbreaks of blue — like now, three bluebirds checking out the bluebird house — or a poem that takes hold, or returning to the mystery that holds us all on this giant ball spinning on its axis in endless space. There is comfort in the harvest moon that has returned for billions of years without hesitation or concern for our trials. There is possibility in every first sunlight.
Each day’s terror, almost
a form of boredom—madmen
at the wheel and
stepping on the gas and
the brakes no good—
and each day, morning-glories
faultless, blue, blue sometimes
flecked with magenta, each
lit from within with
the first sunlightConcurrence | Denise Levertov
Some of you will remember me turning in winter to collect seeds on my walks, and the class I taught by that name in Taos. Some of my walks were on my retreats at Saint Meinrad Archabbey, where I have the privilege of working with Brother Martin in his ceramic studio. The noun seed is related to the verb sow: cause something to begin to develop or grow. So Martin and I together have been planting seeds for this show. I haven’t had the chance to photograph many of Martin’s finished pieces, or the collaborative masks, but this will give you an idea of his unique, wide-ranging, exquisitely-crafted and beautiful work — working on both sides:
Ceramic plate | top and bottom | © Martin Erspamer OSB
Ceramic bowl | top and bottom | © Martin Erspamer OSB
Ceramic bowl | top and bottom | © Martin Erspamer OSB
The seasons can also be a comfort, reminding me that life and time are not in a straight line. Delight and surprise can break through.The seasons are a circle that bring me back to the mystery of beginnings, of seeds and a new seedtime. This time of year, in contrast to the extroverted feel of summer, calls me inward. Winter is a time to pause, to prepare. In my studio it means clearing and arranging and making ready for whatever may come next now that 23 paintings have just left for the gallery. Preparation takes on a different quality with faith in a receiver. I have never before had such a feeling of being accompanied while working in my studio on these paintings.
I remind myself during this time of election anxiety that there is something that does not depend on circumstance, that cannot be taken.
An unbroken field with outbreaks of blue (detail) | © Laurie Doctor
Here are a few glimpses of the paintings that will be on display at the New Editions Gallery in Lexington, KY. The opening is November 15, 5-8 pm. Come and join us if you can.
Doesn’t Everything Become Something Else? | 36” x 60” | (left) Something Evermore About To Be | 48” x 60” | (middle) Winter Seeds Promise | 36” x 60” | (right)
Oil and charcoal on canvas © Laurie Doctor
Wait Until Dusk | 5” x 5” | Oil on canvas | © Laurie Doctor Concurrence | 5” x 5” | Oil on canvas | © Laurie Doctor
The last painting I will post here, Before the Separation Between Writing and Painting, is the most difficult to photograph, and much richer in person.
If you have any questions about the work, send me a message. Or you can contact Frankie York at New Editions Gallery: ftyork@windstream.net
Before the Separation Between Writing and Painting | 36” x 48” | Oil on canvas | © Laurie Doctor
Do your hands help to steady you? Are you finding time for your muse? I’d love to hear from you.
Our featured artist this month is Andie Thrams. Her field studies, work in the forest, ForestSong project, her teaching…each of these things work together to inspire and challenge me to work in new ways. Read what she says about her work and see more images here. Visit her website here.
In Forests No. 32 | Dorst Creek Sunset | © Andie Thrams