Spring, maybe.

So I headed to Florida figuring winter was about through with us. When I got home I was lulled into complacency with a few warm days, one of which I went fishing. And then winter came back again. We had a few cold snowy days, much to Molly and Finn's delight, but I am really ready for the season to change.

Hendricksons should be hatching in a week or so. And the trout season really gets started.

Evening in Spring, 16 x 20 inches, oil on linen.

Evening Glow

Evening Glow, 10 x 15 inches, oil on panel. Private collection.

Another from the ongoing river series.

I've had to drop back to three paintings per week with the Small Work project. Getting ready for the first show of the season, the Winter Park Side Walk Art Festival, has me buried under a couple dozen partially finished pieces. I'm hoping to finish most of them, but running short of time, trying to figure out how to best spend my time.

Managing work flow. Not really the sort of thing a person thinks about when they think of a working artist, but an important part of the job. I can't finish all of them before the show, so which will help present the strongest body of work?

And I'll finish the rest as soon as I'm home.

Dusk on a Northern River

Dusk on a Northern River (Missinaibi), 8 x 12 inches, oil on panel.

My nephew Christopher emailed last night, wanting to know if I had any information on the Missinaibi River. He is thinking about about a summer canoe trip, and thought he remembered that I had paddled it. Wasn't that the mosquito pants trip?, he asked.

Most startling to me was that I had just that day finished painting it.

I spent some time over the last couple weeks rearranging the studio. In my previous studio, a neighbor who spent weeks turning her studio into a lovely clubhouse, said to me, It looks like you walked in the door, dropped the stuff in your hands and started working. I did. And I did the same thing again when I moved out to Kim and Jerry's farm. And even after I rearranged, I'm not sure you could tell, but hopefully the light and layout will be a little better for both painting and printmaking, and tripping over the dogs will be a bit less frequent.

And when I'm rearranging, in addition to blowing all kinds of time reading magazines that I hadn't finished (hey, mostly art magazines- ok, ok, some were fly fishing and paddling, oh and a book or two), I come across unfinished projects. The painting above was one of them. Started quite awhile ago- a couple years- finished yesterday, only a few hours before Christopher emailed.

And yes, it was the mosquito pants trip.


Jack's Place in Spring, study, oil on panel, 8 x 10 inches

I pass this barn frequently in the fall, on my way to my favorite steelhead river - a place that will not be mentioned by name. The barn is a beautiful old structure, starting to come undone a bit.

Usually when I go by, it is looking more like this.

Jack's Place, Winter Sky, study, oil on panel, 11 x 14 inches.

But spring is here now, the country is greening up, and I'm fishing other rivers and streams, fortunately a little closer to home.

Bend in the River, oil on linen, 24 x 24 inches.