Summer Fling

 Summer's glory (work in progress)

Acrylic on canvas

12 x 12 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

Here in the north we've been told it's the last
full week of summer, and there's an air of desperate
merriment as a result.  When we sit out to eat our
meals in the evening we hear week night
revelers having meals outside, letting kids stay
up too late.  I love those summer sounds, the sounds
of adult laughter,  children at first giddy and giggly,
and then the younger ones crying and being
carried off to bed.  Summer is delightfully social
in the city, even when you are sitting alone reading
a good book.  Through the dark wall of trees you
hear the evidence of other lives playing outside.

Even weeding the garden these days feels like a
profound, almost spiritual exercise, as each
venture into the green and flowering garden reminds
you of how much you'd love to see even the green of
a wicked weed during the long months, of cold, grey
and snow.  That colour is like a glorious song.

So we went to the farmer's market on Saturday and
bought peaches.  Lots of them.  Some were the colour
in this painting and some not.  I've begun to freeze them,
and felt I must paint their delicious bounty before they
are gone for 12 more months.  I'm not quite finished this
painting, but close.

Have a loving-the-last-days-of-summer-day.

A sad and beautiful day

 Portrait of my father (revisited)
black marker on bond paper
7 x 9 inches
Barbara Muir © 2010

My father died on September 11, years before
the Twin Towers fell. So the day was filled with
sober memories for me before that horror.
Every year I talk to my mother about our father,
how dignified and caring he was as he died, how
valiant.  He died of lung cancer, following years
of emphysema, he no doubt picked up as a seaman
in the navy, exposed to excessive radiation
through early radar, or from the few years he smoked
serious cigarettes.

On 9/11, 2001 I was driving to school on a beautiful
day thinking about my father, and planning to call
my mother when I got home.  I was listening to
my own music -- it was the first day of a new term,
and I felt happy and optimistic about the work
ahead.  I switched on the car radio to get the time,
and the first plane hit.  After that like most people
I know I remember days of TV and crying.  Calling
friends who had people in New York, checking.
Hearing stories of people lost in my own small
circle, and all of this under quiet skies, because
the planes were down.

10 years on, the results of this tragedy still ricochet
around the world.  Any of us alive at the time will
never forget. And most of us will never fully process
it.  For all of those who lost their lives, for all of
those who lost loved ones, for everyone feeling grief
because of war and destruction and loss of loved
ones across the planet, I send out love, peace, and
understanding.

We watched a documentary last night on the Pugwash
Peace conferences begun Pugwash, Nova Scotia
near where we have our summer place.  That conference
is attended by scientists and politicians around the
world, trying to put an end to nuclear weapons, and
to war.  They've accomplished a lot, and I wish them
the best in their continued work.

Have a dreaming-of-peace-in-our-lifetime day.

Poem by the Don hangs out

 

Poem by the Don (diptych)

Acrylic on canvas

36 x 48 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

 I think it was in June when my friend Maureen
Morrison asked me to be in a show while I
was away in Pugwash, Nova Scotia.  She very
kindly took my Poem by the Don painting to
place in the show.  Aside from the large space
vacated by the painting on my studio wall,
I hardly thought about the work.  It seemed there
was so much going on this summer.

Because I was out of town for the opening, I
saw it last Sunday for the first time and it was
an excellent show.  The exhibition, Views Along the 
Don featured paintings inspired by the landscape
near the Don River.  The river runs right
by Todmorden Mills, which houses the beautiful gallery
that hosts our club's shows.

I was blown away by Maureen Morrison's work --
three pieces on a spring theme.   I loved her palette
of warm yellows and rich blue skies.  So here they are:

Spring

20 x 30 inches

Oil on canvas

Maureen Morrison © 2011

Spring over the Brewery Hall

20 x 30 inches

Oil on canvas

Maureen Morrison © 2011

Spring at the Papermill Gallery

20 x 30 inches

Oil on canvas

Maureen Morrison © 2011

Have an honouring-your-fellow-artists day.

Sunday smash ups and funny friends

 

 At the restaurant 

Black marker on Moleskine

6 x 9 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

Last weekend -- especially Sunday
seemed to be about collisions and pain.
My older son was biking and got hit by
car going slowly in an intersection. He
saved himself by jumping on the car's bumper
and is fine thank goodness; my younger son was
having arguments with friends: one of my friends
broke a bone in her foot going up the stairs in her
house... if I believed in horoscopes (I don't), I'd
think the planets were colliding. But in reality
it was too many people in the back-to-school
supplies lines, unbalancing the city.

We decided to go out for dinner to our favorite
Thai restaurant.  I did what I always do -- try to
draw as much as possible in the short waits
between ordering and eating.  As I was drawing,
very roughly and quickly, some friends came
up to the table.  They were sitting in another
part of the restaurant watching me drawing.
They tried to get my attention by waving and smiling
and calling to me.  The people at neighbouring tables
thought they were crazy, but they didn't care.
The restaurant is large and lit by elegant chandeliers
dimmed for intimacy.  And my friends were not in
my sight lines for the part I was focusing on, I totally
missed them carrying on.

 Texting at dinner

Black marker on Moleskine paper

6 x 9 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

(The dragon's tail smeared when I 

wasn't paying attention.)

Still I laughed about that on the way home -- it was
the levity the day needed.  Usually people in public
places do not want random artists to draw them --not
those two.   And the dinner was delicious.

Have an art-can-be-surprising day.

Crazy city and Happy art

Pat saves the day

Acrylic on canvas

16 x 20 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011
(the model Pat came to us last night
on very short notice.  Someone was
suggesting I model, and I was
explaining why that wouldn't be
a good idea -- and Pat walked in.
Thanks Pat.  You did save the day.)

Today was the first day of school in Toronto.
Suddenly there were about three million more
people in my neighbourhood than I can ever remember
being here.  Maybe that's because I can't remember
time before the summer.  A good thing.  So trying
to do any single thing was arduous.  All adventures
in cars were an experience. And to top it off my
engine light came on on the way to school to teach
again, and I created so many horrific scenarios, that
I probably should work in film.

At last, a great class over, errands run, animals fed, I
hurried to my art group at the new location, and enjoyed
a wonderful model, and a super time with friends who
are excellent and inspiring artists.  Did I mention funny?
That's almost the most important thing.  I painted
this picture of Pat, and I'm delighted with it.


Have a liking-what-you're-doing day.

Carol Marine lost her home and everything in it

 Carol Marine

Carol Marine, the wonderful American
artist lost the home she shared with her husband,
David, and little boy in a massive fire in Bastrop, Texas.

They managed to escape with their computers, a
few small paintings, and are now in a campground
trying to figure out where to go next.  They will get
insurance, but they've lost everything. The main thing
is that her family is all fine.To make a
donation and read more please go to this blog
site,  and lets help our fellow artist out in a terrible time. 

It's easy to make a donation on PayPal, and I'm sure
any amount will help, and your support will mean
a lot to the family.  I have never met Carol Marine,
but admire her work greatly, and I feel horrible for
her losing the paintings in her home and studio in
the fire.

Have a helping-a-neighbour-across-the-world day.

Just peachy

 Peaches for lunch

Acrylic on canvas

8 x 8 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

It's the first of September and Toronto's heading into a long
weekend tomorrow.  It's impossible not to look back on
the summer -- almost gone -- with deep nostalgia.  Meanwhile
our backyard grape tomatoes keep yielding up quite a daily
harvest from their tiny garden patch by the back steps.
The plants climb up a fence and have grown so thick that
I have to be careful reaching in to harvest them, not to
damage the thick stems.

Steven says that I'm a seasonal kind of girl, meaning I paint
what's in front of me, and for the most part that's true.
This week he bought two 7 litre wooden baskets of
peaches, and they are a captivating fruit.  The taste is
one of my favorites -- just the best, and the fruit looks
like it should be eaten.  So last night I sat down and began this
little painting.

Fall will come, and our world will get colder, but for this weekend
at least, the neighbourhood boys are whooping it up in the park,
acting silly and doing impossible skateboard tricks.  Sam will come
home from his early start at school, and life will be just peachy, as
it is today.

Thank you Marcia and family for a lovely visit tonight.  That was
a great treat.

Have a getting-ready-for-fall day.