Several friends have requested that I start a blog in anticipation of my one-month residency in France. I have been resistant because of concern relative to what in the world to write about. Although I have kept a journal (starting with those little diaries with keys) as long as I can remember, I have never written anything in them that I would want to share. Those journals have been navel gazing of the lowest order. Whenever I have reread them, I have cringed wondering how I ever had any friends. I do mean EVER! With that in mind, I have been quite concerned about writing a blog. Who would want to read it? What could I possibly say of interest? How to begin? This is all procrastination. So, without any further stalling, here goes....
My work has been inspired by my upbringing. I think that it is a fairly safe bet to say that most artists have a similar experience. We are certainly affected by our past, and in some way that history shows up in our work. I just returned from my home state of West Virginia where I was able to visit areas (and friends!) that I haven't seen for many, many years. I often joke that you can take the girl out of the mountains, but it is much harder to take the mountains out of the girl. I breathe more freely when I make my way through the hills on Interstate 64 heading west. Although my friend Steve would argue that there are physiological reasons for this ease of breathing, my romantic nature discounts his scientific explanations. I am sure that he is more correct than I, but I prefer the romance of it all. When you see the photographs, you may agree with me.
Grandview Park is aptly named. I had not had the pleasure of a visit there in at least fifteen years but spent many hours at the park with family and friends when I was young. The view from the overlook is a perfect visual example of home for me. My childhood home was situated in a way that allowed views of the mountains every day. I don't think that I ever took that view for granted. Grandview Park seemed a great distance from my home when I was young, but it is really very nearby.
On this trip, the trees were just starting to come to life after a long winter, so I was able to enjoy the bright lacy green of the foliage. I generally do not make paintings of vistas similar to Grand View. I have never felt that I can do justice to such magnificence preferring the still small voice to the grand opera. I may have to alter my thinking when it comes to my home state. Stay tuned....
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