- Written by: Susan
At this time of experimentation with figurative work, I liked illustrating themes dealing with the darker side of the human spirit. This painting was a representation of the isolation and insecurity a person can feel when they believe that others are not supportive of them, often even trying to tear down their success. Now, vultures don't kill their prey, but rather feed on dead carcasses. The elevated figure with the vultures waiting patiently suggest that they are just waiting for her - obviously reveling in her triumph - to fall, crushed, defeated. Rather grim.
The Vultures are Ready
- Written by: Susan
Under my figurative paintings, this is named "Gerard", but originally its title was what you see above. The story behind this is rather interesting. I had gone up to Panama City in 2005 to do a tent show, something I experimented with in my early exhibitions. Quite a bit of fun but very strenuous. The whole thing was a family effort.
We arrived early Friday night to set up, and while doing so, there was this homeless man sitting on a bench watching the whole process. Obviously, it was where he had spent the night, and by the way he was dressed it appeared he was a war veteran (perhaps Vietnam) and rather unkempt. What struck me immediately was that as this whole affair was unfolding, he just watched calmly with the most sensitive face and the bluest of eyes. He truly seemed engaged in what was going on. I remember to this day exchanging smiles with him. As the time got closer to the opening of the show, he was politely (I hope) escorted from the scene, and it stayed that way until the show was over. I often looked for him but it wasn't until Sunday night when we were packing up that I saw him return, right to the same bench. Again, he looked over with interest. I knew at this time that I wanted to paint him because I saw something so ethereal and gentle in his demeanor. There really was no guise or bitterness...this after being ecorted from the park for this "high class" affair (call it what you will).
After I got up the courage to approach him and ask him for his picture, I was once again drawn into the depth of his blue eyes and his easy smile. How could I not ask to paint him? Surprisingly - but why should I be surprised really? - he was eager to have his picture taken and seemed quite honored. This was a painting that so touched my heart I was able to complete it very quickly; and to this day, I can't think of one way I would change it.
Gerard
- Written by: Susan
Everyone has one, or desires one, be it modest or grand, simply a place for them to call home, a place to lay their head. Many days, they may leave, travel to and fro, to work or wherever, only to return by a similar path....home. For three years, this was the path leading away from my home in Brooksville, Florida. This viewpoint was from the intersection that connected the long gravel driveway up to our rural home, a ranch home. We had five acres, 1/2 being wooded, 1/2 pristine pasture.
Almost every morning, I walked this earthy, rutted path, often with my dachshunds if they were up for it, traveling a 2-mile loop. If it was hot, I would leave early to beat the oppressive heat. It it was cooler, I would throw on sweats, a sweater, and go! I loved this path. It was primitive, organic in most every meaningful way to me. It was a spiritual path, embracing my entire being of body, mind and soul. This private path knew me, too...my thoughts, wants, dreams...my joys and heartaches. It listened to me, my heart, as much as I listened to what it said, too... its crisp silence, noisy crunching leaves, its soft wind like a butterfuly caressing my cheek, the dewdrop that falls off the tree onto my face in the morning, the scent of wild honeysuckle, its elemental protection of the species that lived there - the gopher turtle seen most often - the fierce Florida downpour where the water is so warm, you just turn your face up to receive it, stick out your tongue to taste it.
This was my first alla prima painting that I did which I actually liked. Working in the sun with glare can be challening in any situation, so I started this painting mid morning, but it was summer, so it was hot. Hot enough to want to work quickly to quell the noise of buzzing insects, and to minimize getting paint all over my face due to constantly wiping dripping sweat. This path runs south, southwest so the sun was traveling diagonally from the upper left -hand corner westward to the lower right-hand corner. The path was illuminated by filtered light dancing through a canopy of dense trees.
This is an earthy painting, very primitive, but as real as many paths everyone sees everywhere if one looks for them. I look at this painting and think, this looks like it could have been painted 100 years ago; but it's not so. It's just as it was when I lived there, just as it is today when I visit, and hopefully just as it will remain for a very long time to come.
The Road to Home