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@lizbethart-blog
Celebrating Boston and Granddaughter's too...
Boston was a buzz. Marathon fever was everywhere. The energy, intoxicating. I adore every moment I am “home” but this weekend while visiting my daughter and her family just outside of the city magic was floating through the warm New England air. Daffodils and forsythia. Tulips nibbled by an unknown nocturnal visitor. Trees just starting to bloom… Patriot’s Day weekend. The heart of Boston ripples…
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Some People Journal...
Some people keep a journal. I paint. My paintings are my journal. A canvas is my blank page. A brush the vehicle for expression emphasized by bold exciting colors… I looked around my studio and browsed through my inventory as I prepare for an exhibit beginning this August. Nearly every painting sparked a specific memory. A place in my life. A dancer in my daughter’s image. A pick-up truck…
Move over Prada and Hello Blundstone…
I felt like I got away with something this morning and it felt so good. Feeling willfully free this morning was exhilarating. Defiant in a most innocent way. I was headed out for a run without the treacherous block of ice that was formally my driveway. Spits and spats of snow still blow around but the birds are returning. Singing as they harken in mud season in Vermont… The month of March teases…
Hair Braided With Imagination...
My daughter Emily and her family arrived last Thursday to spend a few days with us and enjoy Vermont in February. Ski bags, a stack of comingled children and adult skis and outdoor apparel decorated the garage and the tile floor at our backdoor. Impossibly small turquoise ski boots for Ellis 5 and Josephine 2 ½ rested on their sides just waiting to be employed… I had done a lot of prep to make…
The Making of the Secret Sauce…Go Pats!
I grew up in a small dairy farm community in southeastern Massachusetts called Rehoboth. Rehoboth is a beautiful pastoral community tucked in the somewhere between the once Patriarca crime family’s home bases of Boston and Providence. Not terribly far from Foxboro, MA the home of Gillette Stadium and the New England Patriots football team. Boston sports have been a generational devotional…
Take The Plunge...
The snowplow bounced up my driveway at 1:30 am shattering the cold stillness that permeated the night. Newly fallen snow by the feet had muffled the extraneous noise of the day. Instead, the bangs and slams of a plow echoed outside my house on the hill. A flood of light streamed through the drawn shades. Illuminating the furnishings in a warm glow… Icicles dripping down my bedroom window like…
We Clear The Path Respectfully…
Gray morning sky. Eight degrees. A frozen golden mist heavily rambled along the hills. Bare tree limbs festively decorated in icy sparkles… I stretched my Yaktrax micro spikes over my bold yellow Saucony running shoes knowing the going would be sporty. I navigated my snowy way down the drive. Carefully dodging thick ice patches that would not be particularly kind to this aging body…. Once I…
The Hunting of the Innocent…
My husband Jon and I walked up our rural road early this past Saturday morning. Nothing striking or unusual about that as most days begin with this ritual. The cherished natural surround of tranquility greeted us as the cold air bumped up against our faces. Animated political conversation was tossed around as we navigated the elevation… I noticed our neighbors from across the street hiking…
I Don’t Believe In Signs But…
Something was different. The dull light outside my early morning window was subtly illuminated. The first snow. A quiet, glistened. The ochre earth covered in white. Twigs and long dormant grasses poked through the patchy blanket… The gray November skies battled between a cold rain and soft spitting flakes. Battling to get it seasonally right yet up against a lack of corporation. The struggle…
Mohair Sweaters and First Flakes…
An uninspired foliage season has passed. Leaves were influenced by the severe drought that had impacted Central Vermont for several months. Browned and fragile easily they dropped from the trees at the mere suggestion of a breeze. The colors while dulled were magical still. A hard frost. Thirty-two degrees this Sunday morning with November gray skies overhead. Stick season in full view. The…
This Land Is Our Land...
Rain has been scarce in Vermont. We are in drought conditions that is not without impact. Lawns are scorched. The earth is dry and dusty. Wildfire concerns, daily. Walks and hikes show visual changes to our landscape. Are the colors of the leaves warming or are they browning from thirst? I wondered. It is hard to discern the coming of a new season from the disappointment of the last. The early…
Twirling Into Two...
A princess dress. Crinoline and tulle. Saturated raspberry pink fabric with a simulated diamond broche. Small adornments and netting. Sparkle and shine. The swish and swirl of a twirling toddler. Two years old this August day. Curls tightly formed in golden brown ringlets. A bow nestled snugly on top of her crown… A birthday celebration. A hot summer day. Festive dress required. Imaginations also…
Remember to Look Up…
The cool air greeted me as I left my house on the hill before the world was truly awake. The air clear and crisp. I couldn’t wait to get out the door. I have been slogging through the thick heavy summer air even in the early a.m. July has been challenging in most ways imaginable… The exquisite quiet washed over me as I walked down the drive. Gravel crunched under my Hoka running shoes. I noticed…
When The Music Stops...
Music often drives my paint brush as it does the laptop keys and even running miles. Primarily I don’t stray far from Rock n’ roll or Folk but I do enjoy exploring contemporary artists. My adult children will share their musical likes. I have enjoyed musical introductions from a friend. Random social media finds or a lucky moment on the radio are always welcomed… Early this morning I headed to my…
One More Row, please…
I picked up a project that had been mocking me from its “just in view” location in a corner of my studio. Draped in a large circular braided cloth bin rested a chunky wool knit blanket just about a quarter done. The color a comfortable warm white yarn. For months and possibly years it has rested in a neglected mound. A few round skeins tucked underneath. I have done only a few knitted projects…
Let's Spill Some Paint...
An early Wednesday run on a cool summer morning to jumpstart what would surely be a very busy day. Thoughts flowed like the tripping brooks and streams along my route. 1.5 miles up from the paved to a Class B Road. Once my Hoka’s hit the dirt I had entered the Secret Garden… My thoughts were a mixed salad of ideas. Tossing around a proposal for an upcoming meeting to discuss a painting class that…
A Moment...
Sunday morning and a shroud of smoke hangs heavy on the early morning air. Canadian wildfire smoke upslopes cottony over the hills. My kitchen window frames the muted wildflowers in the backyard. Daisies rambling up towards the forest’s edge. Innocence and purity cover the expanse. They look particularly beautiful this morning. Something feels just a bit sweeter this a.m… Recently I have…