It's too soon to panic

I have deadlines looming for various exhibitions that I am involved with in this year and I realised I need to seriously get some new work completed so I can be organised, on time and organised. Have I mentioned organised?

Holy Macaroni!

I looked at the timeline and panicked a little. A lot. What is the quantitive description of panicking a lot? A blindness of panic? Well, something like "holy shitballs" emanated from my mouth ( because I am THAT eloquent) when I realised I have 2 months to do a years worth of work!!!!

But you know what, it's too soon to panic. My Dad always says that and you know what, the day before the deadline is a great time to panic, not a few months prior. It's too soon. Deep breaths.

So, head down, brushes up and music turned waaaaaay up, lets do this thing. I just have to do the work and it will all be good because that's where it all comes from, doing the work.

Inspiration of dew on asparagus

Work in progress

inspiration in my front yard

A start

Making my way through a painting

New from the studio

Well, work has resumed. Kids are back at school and I have shooe-ed all the spiders and the cat out of the studio and claimed my space again.

So,here's whats on the easels:

Detail of tree forms 

too much fun!

The top bit of the painting

side view

drying against the wall( hence the reason the cat has been evicted: he likes to rub up against wet paint :-((((

A start on my south island paintings

I am doing some works on drafting film (Mylar) and getting to grips with the way the paint moves on this surface and what I can get it to do without changing any of the paint's archival  qualities. It's part experimentation, part intuition and part balls-to-the-wall courage. No one likes to paint something and then deliberately destroy it, but to see what I can come up with, I have to push some boundaries and be prepared to lose a few paintings in the process. It's a bit like driving a car fast. Sometimes I only have one wheel on the ground! It's thrilling but the insurance companies won't touch me!

I am hoping to return to the South Island in winter to do a bit of plein air painting. It is all in the planning stages, at the moment, but I was so taken with the land and the landscape down there. There is a most unusual light and the colour of the land and rock in that light spoke to something in me that said" you belong here". Maybe when I spend a week in minus 6 degrees temps I will hear other voices, who knows. 

I have downloaded new music and hope to get some painting under my belt this week. I have galleries clamouring for new work and an exhibition or two to get ready for. I am in my happy place. Thank you, Universe.