Second Spring

 This is the second painting I've done depicting spring as a woman.  She is part elm stump, with bark for hair.  The red ferns are sprouts of maidenhair ferns.  While walking with my neice Fiona, we noticed tiny delicate red spirals covered in whispy fronds poking out of the ground.  After nearly 30 years of walking these woods I have never seen this stage of what is my favorite fern.  The brown ferns sort of represent turkey feathers because it has been my bad luck recemtly to scare a hen turkey off of her nest while I'm mushroom hunting.  Once, I managed to collect the eggs ( female turkeys usually abandon the nest for good if discovered) and have a setting chicken hen hatch the eggs and raise the babies, but that's another painting...

The Night Trout

 Thanks to my brother, I find myself thinking of moths more than I used to, and more than I would like to.  The more I learn about them, the less I am sure I like them.  From the Black Witch moth that is rumored to spell certain death if it flies into your house and manages to travel to all four corners of the room, to the bizarre and downright horrific acts committed upon defenseless cocoons by parasites, not to mention their equally repulsive defense mechanisms.  I have always thought of moths as mysterious night creatures, but now instead of looking up at the night sky in wonder, I am anxiously glancing over my shoulder. 
As for the trout, your guess is as good as mine...

The Marsh

 For nearly two months I had not been inspired or come up with any ideas for paintings, so I forced some inspiriation.  I looked through a book of nature photography, saw a nice picture of a trumpeter swan, and then built off that.  These paintings always feel weird to me because they require so much thought and planning and the emotion comes later.  They are like an arranged marriage that luckily works out in the end.

January

January reminds me of blowing dead grass, total silence except for the blowing wind, the scream of a red tailed hawk and the chickadee's chatter, and the feel of Her frostbitten hands in mine.

Tonight and Tomorrow

The Widow Maker

This huge tree blew over the trail I walk nearly every day. I would run under it as fast as I could, imagining that something would cause the tree to fall at the very moment I passed under.

Feeling of Fall

I was driving, looking at the hills full of color and smelling the leaves, and suddenly had the feeling of fall in my stomach. It crept up my chest and neck, then went into my head and I saw this image. These are some of my favorite paintings to do because I dont have to think about them. They are just there for me to copy on to paper.
I don't know what this one means. I think it must have something to do with the excitement and sadness of the approach of winter, the illusion of death.