Oatmeal and scarves.
All of the reds, most of the oranges, plenty of the green leaves have turned brown. And they're curling and crunching on the sidewalks.
It's colder everyday.

It's amazing how the season change is changing us. I'm crunching leaves as I march to work every morning, depending on how early I can get up I can see my breath in the air. I only want hot liquids. I only want to wear long socks and sleeves, sweaters and mittens. I can tell why everyone here knits...

I've had some run ins this week. I've had a few cases in which I let the bastards get me down and I simpered and I stumbled. But the more I notice, the more I listen, the more I meet folks and the more I make work the less the grumblers will matter.
Sure, yeah, right. I think so. Probably.

So in the meantime, I'll keep looking at the leaves and the sky (most often it's close to pastel gray as in here.)

Gotta go the bread is almost done.

take good care,
Rachael

Last week I realized that if I was going to communicate something of the feelings I get aroud these dumps of leaves, this loss of leaves from tall trees all around me, if I was going to paint anything of the colors or the experience, the clock was ticking. I started stuffing leaves in my pockets as I walked home from work. Allof the leaves I used to rake are back, all of the paintings and drawings I used to make where bits of small come together to make large are creeping back.



This weekend I painted these two of a series of three watercolors (22 x 30 each). And today I stepped back into my (new) studio. It's not perfect and I'll have to figure some stuff out when it comes to heat and light but I can work here. I need to. This uncontrollable drive to work is back even if I'm not exactly sure of what I'm making.

Messes or paintings, full thoughts or first drafts, I just want to keep these paintings honest and to keep reveling in the surface, the marks, the color.


Usually in the studio (at least once) I'll think, "this would be so much easier if I knew what I was doing". But I know what I need to do. And that's ride out the process, keep my paintbrush in motion, trust my gut and get these images out into the world.

It doesn't hurt that I'm reading Anne Truitt's Daybook and baking bread and taking long walks.

take good care and good luck with your process,
Rachael

No, I don't really want to talk about it. No, I don't really want to dwell on the election results or the same old same old or how cold it was today or why I was grumpy from start to almost finish but...

When a seed of an idea plants itself in your head and you can't get it out, even grump can go away.

Big changes happen slowly but smaller changes in how each person is more kind than self centered, more giving than greedy, more listening than talking, can happen quickly.

Pie helps.

The making of art is only the first step, another very powerful part is the sharing of art. In between grumps today I watched a lot of people (tentative artists and those more sure of their technique and their images) put their work out there. The stuff got seen. Other folks spoke up and helped out. I just think that's important.

So, we will volunteer and ask tough questions of leaders big and small and we work hard and we work together for four more or however many more years and someday America and the rest of the world will be a little more fair and a little more kind and a little more free.

Pie helps.

Take care,
Rachael

The country may be red or it may be blue, we don't have a glowing, shouting tv box so instead I sit here listening to the radio count. It's easy to tune out and there is plenty of leftover halloween candy to eat. Honestly, talking art I should tell you that were the candy dish on the drawing table, I'd be more likely to draw.

Have I mentioned Charles Burchfield and Arthur Dove yet? These guys and their Western New York gloomy greys and fantastic images are in the back of my brain as I walk around my neighborhood. All of the trees around now are yellow- bright, bold cadmium yellow- and they stand striking against purpley grey skies today.

More Burchfield is in Buffalo at the Burchfield-Penney Center and wandering online, thinking about trees and color and daydreams of walking in the woods got me to the Morton Arborteum .

It's still raining and should the vote counting keep coming, I may be building an ark. Will do so when my candy bars are gone.

take care,
Rachael

OK, so it's come down to this. Tomorrow I'll drag my ass out of bed at 6 am and trudge to the polls where I'll cast my vote and then go to work. Since we don't have a TV, I won't watch the news, won't even let the crap in my head for a couple of months. And then I'll just keep doing what I do. Same old, same old. But some of my friends, some of you out there areeven more disillusioned and will want to stay in bed. I urge you to get up.

Vote smart , vote arts , vote to help the hungry , vote skeptical. Maybe even vote sexy . Vote for the perks, like free admission to museums ( Rochester's MAG, scroll down to election week special).

I'm really thinking about a new project. It's an old project. It's a ton of work. For fear of jinxing myself, I won't go into the idea and won't share much until it's well brewed. But if you don't hear much from me, that's because I am drawing, thinking, planning and plotting and because the elections and all of the political nonsense around has forced me into an early hibernation.

Yes, and I am a little over all the stepping and steppers and comment frenzies. David B can and did draw from his own perspective, his own experience and did so in a lovely way. I appreciate Elise and Barbara's defenses of artistic freedom but these stepper comments seem to be coming from the middle of left field, so I don't really get my panties in a wad about it...

That's all for now, but please do take care and please do vote, and not just cause I said so...

Rachael