Musings

New Beginnings

December 4, 2018 By Michelle Hendry 8 Comments

I’m sitting on my old couch looking at the chipboard floors of my new house.

Finally.

We had the carpet removed as soon as we took possession. The previous owners had two large black dogs and it has taken weeks to subdue the fur, tufted under baseboards, stuck to walls and consequently on the tip of my paint brush. No amount of vacuuming seems to get it all. The green seams of resin and wood preserver on view for the first time in 20 years crack and echo in the great room largely empty, but for a few stark pieces of furniture and some boxes not yet unpacked. I can hear the building flex when the whispers of winter become insistent, amplified by those naked boards. It is beautiful.

My first friend here. This beauty came over and gave me a sniff after I took this photo.

After months of instability, it affected all of this family’s health, but most of all, our sweet kitty. At 18 with kidney issues, we cherish every moment. I’m struggling with the unfinished state; the floors, my bathroom and many other things which got started and stopped for a plethora of reasons and their finish dates remain elusive. So close to the end of months of chaos and yet…

The studio is still a long way off and the weather has removed the possibility of outdoor painting. There is no time for anything but sleep and work anyway. Reading is stealing a few moments for poems found in books I rediscover unpacking after 16 months in storage.

There is little time for art and creativity yet. The costs of multiple moves and renovation are astronomical and so there is much work we have been doing ourselves. I found muscles I didn’t know I had to save money. When I attended the Art of the Carolinas conference (booked long before I knew what was coming), all my fine muscles had been obliterated by heavy work and simple drawing was a challenge. I had no finesse and I got hand cramps! It was three days of creativity, however.

For all my small and larger complaints, it truly is a small piece of heaven. One I’m anxious to enjoy and to heal in.

So my iPhone has become the closest thing I have to my easel. Creativity is through the lens again. This place is so stunning. It’s hard not to paint it. I’m full of ideas even if I can’t get them down yet. Even if I can only pause for a few seconds to admire the light here, and I must, this is the place we have worked so hard to find – will work so hard to make home.

Wishing everyone a beautiful holiday season…

Finding Water En Plein Air

August 8, 2018 By Michelle Hendry 12 Comments

Craggy Gardens, Blue Ridge Mountains

I have no studio.

I haven’t had one for over a year now. Trying to paint in a dining room with constantly shifting light proved to be too much. And after what has been a soul crushing year that continues its punishing stress, I needed a shift in perspective.

Extreme stress has a way of killing the creative impulse and squeezing the muse out of the room. The desert is a place people often use as a metaphor for the loss of creativity. What I know of the desert contradicts that notion. The desert has cycles and lush spring blooms are a reminder that life is always just below the surface. Even in the Sahara you will find oases. Somewhere, there is water…

Set up at the Park at Flat Rock

In search of water, I climbed a mountain.

I was invited to join the WNC Plein Air Painters on an early morning paint out to Craggy Gardens in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s a little over an hour from where I’m living. I hauled myself out of bed in the dark and started the long drive nearly straight up the mountain. Light diffused through clouds and fog, wisps of gold and twilight until I climbed above it all (see photo above). This is where I sat to paint.

At the lily pond

Nothing of note came out of that first try for many reasons, including the fact that acrylic with no spray bottle in the sun just isn’t any fun. But the adventure of it – the drive, the location, the hike – changed something. The idea of making the studio outdoors stuck.

A month later I signed up for a workshop switching to oil, which was definitely much better for outdoor painting, but came with the struggle of relearning how to use the medium. I used Holbein Aqua Duo, a water soluble oil paint. I highly recommend this for acrylic painters who want to move to oil, either in general or for plein air. No solvents required and it was pleasurable to work with. It behaved well when thinned with water for the drawing/underpainting and it dried relatively quickly. When undiluted, it behaved like traditional oil.

I bought a small sketchbook for quick studies in gouache. When pulling out the oils is too much trouble or the hike to a location is too long for a heavy kit, this is a good solution. (below right)

Set up on the porch overlooking the garden

These studies allowed me several things:

to detach from the outcome
stop thinking about a finished painting
learn to see without the still frame of a camera
use mediums I have not engaged in over a decade or longer
learn to work more quickly because light changes so quickly

Colour is much better live and so is value. For the first time, sitting in front of the lily pond, I saw colours that made me understand Monet’s obsession.

It may be some time before I have a studio, but the outdoor season here is long. I hope the muse will find me wherever I happen to be. And perhaps for a couple hours at a time, I can forget what an awful year it has been and find the space inside my head to create again.

Revisiting Oklahoma Brings a Prize

May 9, 2018 By Michelle Hendry

There is a column in OVAC’s magazine (Oklahoma Visual Arts Coalition) called Ekphrasis which connects the disciplines of poetry and art allowing them to inspire each other. I like to believe paintings or photographs are visual poetry, but they have often inspired me to write. Like painting, there are lots of failures and mediocre works to every masterpiece.

Last weekend I returned to Oklahoma for the first time since we moved away to attend the OWFI (Oklahoma Writer’s Federation) 2018 Conference. Writers, authors, agents and publishers come from all over to be a part of this Conference, including Oklahoma, Arkansas, Kansas, Texas and some as far away as San Francisco and New York. It is an impressive gathering of talent.

Until recently, I primarily identified myself as a painter, however, that’s changing thanks to this amazing tribe. I have had the privilege of meeting some talented and hard working writers. I am lucky enough to call some of them friends.

At last year’s Conference, I attended a session with past poet laureate of Oklahoma, Nathan Brown, that changed the way I write. The special thing about poetry that distinguishes it from most prose is sound. That isn’t a revelation. But, as a visual person, hearing it in action under the tutelage of Nathan Brown was a revelation. I took the advice with me through the chaos of the rest of 2017 and wrote “Road Trip to the Panhandle”, inspired by the visual cues of a photo taken out the front window of the truck on a road trip to New Mexico in 2016 (above). I edited this poem over and over, reading it aloud until it was time to enter this year’s contest.

Oklahoma is known for its disproportionate number of writers and with so many great writers in this part of the country, including songwriters, the competition is fierce.

During the awards ceremony at the close of the Conference, the presentation ran through the winners of the Poetry, Unrhymed Long category, a category I have entered before and never succeeded. I was shameless enough to keep writing bad poems and submitting them in the past, likely to the horror of the judges of those contests. I did this over and over again, hoping one day I’d overcome suckage.

We passed the honourable mentions, the third, then second place winners. At this point, I was thinking to myself, “No chance.” I looked away from the projection screen of winning entries, digging into my purse to distract myself, when “Road Trip to the Panhandle” was announced as the first place winner. I think my jaw hit the floor and it took a few seconds to pick it up. I was barely able to stumble to the podium and collect the award. I may have forgotten to say thank you to Jim, the gentleman handing out the awards. I can’t quite remember.

I was on air the rest of the evening. It didn’t matter that I didn’t even place in the other 4 categories to which I had submitted. This was the long shot! And I won!

For the first time, I felt validated as a real poet. I’ll enjoy that feeling at least until tomorrow when I wake up to reality and start writing more bad poems, learning to find the the diamonds among them…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been thinking about Oklahoma in the weeks leading up to the Conference. I started a painting that began with a softly coloured reference and ended up channeling the smoke from terrible wildfires that took place in western Oklahoma and the Panhandle in April. It is clear to me that Oklahoma will always occupy a place in my heart, no matter where I might find myself.

It is still a work in progress.

Work in Progress

Bugs and Blooms

March 22, 2018 By Michelle Hendry

Spring is slowly arriving across the mountains of North Carolina. The birds are busy, the daffodils and tree blooms are bursting, in spite of overnight temperatures leaving shallow puddles slicked with ice.

Tiny insects congregate in the broad strips of sunlight that can, for now, still penetrate to the forest floor. Their tiny wings bend the light making their flurry of motion glow white as if opening a portal to another world.

Trying new things is always a good way to welcome the season. In this case… Bugs, butterflies and with all the variety of tree blossoms, I intend to give them a try as well! I’m adding some texture to backgrounds as a way of experimenting with what can be done with acrylic gels and pastes when combined with something representational. While I don’t have a proper studio yet, these small experiments are easy to do.

This place couldn’t be more unlike Oklahoma and yet North Carolina shares with that state such a variety of landscapes. Farms of cattle surrounded by mountains are a contrast from long views of Oklahoma ranches. I am hoping to get some good reference shots of a particular bull nearby.

For now, a sick kitty has me staying close to home. He has been with us nearly 17 of his 18 years. He is a rescue cat and is one of the great loves of our lives. He has been through everything with us and I hope there will be a little more to come yet. After surviving cancer two years ago, each day since has been a gift for which we are grateful. The next few weeks are critical and, so far, he seems quite content. In a world so full of hate lately, he is a beacon of unconditional love. It is no wonder we love our furry children so much.

Book Update:

The book is now available at Muskoka Books and can be purchased from their on-line store or at their location at Verandah on the main street in Bracebridge, Ontario
I will be attending the OWFI conference in Oklahoma City in May. If you are attending, hard copies of “Once Imagined” will be available there. E-mail me if you’d like more information!