Back to Work . . .

My Studio Eidolons work in progress (with napping Paddington)

I’m sleeping better. When I sleep, I dream about a great discussion, with experts and ideas and diction and energy and honesty. And when I wake up I think “I can sell that.”

President Jed Bartlet, “The West Wing” (American drama series)

For the third time, Sandi and I are watching “The West Wing” and feel once again the warmth, freshness and enthusiasm of this drama. The quote above resonated with me. I love the energy I feel when waking from a REM sleep segment featuring a healthy conversation with colleagues in a meeting of minds. I promised myself in 2024 that I would not be dragged into the negativity I continually find when surfing social media or tuning in to news and commentary. Thus, I’m reading more positive material lately and recording things in my journal that make my world brighter.

The art calendar is beginning to fill up and I’m proud to announce that I will participate in the Dogwood Art & Music Festival in Palestine March 22-23. I have also been notified of my acceptance into Artscape 2024 at the Dallas Arboretum. This will take place April 27-28.

My watercolor classes have also resumed on weekends at The Gallery at Redlands. These cost $35 per 3-hour session with all materials provided. If you are interested in participating, you must register with me in advance; I only have room for five participants per class. I’ll gladly put you on the email notification list that announces all classes if you send me your email and phone number. Next class will be the weekend of February 9-10.

I also offer watercolor classes at Studio 48 in Gracie Lane Boutiques at Arlington. These are held on designated Wednesday afternoons. Attending these classes requires registration on their website: https://www.gracielanecollection.com/art-workshops-arlington-tx Cost for these 3-hour classes is $55 with all materials supplied. We still have room for a few more next Wednesday, and here is the subject we will be painting:

Guadalupe Mountain Range

Nacogdoches sculptor Jeffie Brewer has installed new work in our Gallery at Redlands as Well. I miss the tall monumental piece that kept me company the past 24 months. But another large figure has replaced it, along with a parade of miniatures in the streetside window and a medium size pair in the display area as well.

The tall green sculpture is titled “Artist Walks Alone.”

I have also hung a new display of my work at Studio 48 (inside Gracie Lane Boutique) at 4720 S. Cooper St., Arlington.

I hope you will join us as we continue to explore new vistas in the art world and seek new adventures in 2024.

Thanks for reading.

A Profound Gift Received while Convalescing

Caprock Canyon. Quitaque, Texas

Saturday does not find me in The Gallery at Redlands, or anywhere in Palestine. Sickness knocked me down several days ago, and I am thankfully climbing out of it, though still in bed this morning with much happier thoughts of late. Reading from my old journals led me to pull some photos from the file and repost something I scribbled out in the journal with genuine gratitude:

5:56 a.m. Tuesday morning, March 13, 2018

Yesterday we journeyed 2 hours to the canyon, taking the dog. At Quitaque, we found a cool Mobil gas station. Population 411 in Brisco County.

We journeyed to Caprock Canyon State Park, saw plenty of bison & mule deer, and I got in some painting. Amazing colors, there. Sandi took a picture of me at my easel. As I painted, she & Patches walked a trail. We may go back there to camp.

I’ll try to record what happened as I painted. Drinking in the horizon, I spread water across the sky & quickly spread Cerulean & Antwerp Blue in a light wash. The climate dried it rapidly. With a Mirado Classic pencil I laid in 2 or 3 action lines to follow the horizon & diverging terrain, accenting 2 or 3 bluffs, then went to wok, dotting the horizon with my modified “ugly” brush (one I cut with an X-acto knife, creating a ragged edge of bristle for foliage). Mostly I blended Alizarin Crimson with Winsor Green & a touch of Transparent Yellow to get a near-black silhouette of horizon tree line. Then I worked my way down the canyon ridge, laying wet wash of Cadmium Red & Transparent Yellow & dried patches of Quinacridone Gold & Winsor Blue for some varied green earth tones. When it suited me, I drew with my pencil into the wet washes to cut the lines of striations in the rock. When dry, I mixed a Winsor Green/Alizarin Crimson to create black & used a liner brush for sharp shadows & creases of rock striations. I also scumbled varying washes of reds & oranges over the bluffs, then laid in Winsor Violet & Transparent Yellow for deep shadows behind the red bluffs.

It was a rewarding time, drinking in the dynamics of the shadowed canyon walls I viewed from a distance. I want to go back when I can stay longer . . .

Now . . . Heidegger!

“To be old means: to stop in time at that place where the unique thought of a thought train has swung into its joint.”

Now, at age 63, with only twice-a-week classes to teach, my thoughts are able to slow down & subjects are given time to swing into alignment. It’s because I no longer have to submit papers by a deadline or prepare multiple subjects to teach. There is time to stop and ponder, ruminate, drink it in. Chew on it. Return to it. Re-examine it. Re-word it. Re-arrange the categories.

The logos gathers together. It is the ligature, the religion, that soothes me, mends me, calms me.

Yesterday the strife was there, as I met the earth with my world, and sought to make art emerge from that nexus, that arena of conflict. And as I wrestled with the horizon, I felt that I was living out my purpose, doing what I had prepared 63 years to do. Stand there at Ithaca, and embrace my home. . . . I was home on this earth.

The child is indeed father to the man. As a child, I saw myself standing, surveying the landscape, and capturing it on a flat plane. My eye penetrating, my hand moving, my thoughts flowing, and the world and I belonged together.

I could have just as easily been flyfishing in a moving stream, my eyes surveying the surface, looking for the seams that held the waters together. Finding the seams. The ligatures. The connections where parts are joined together to form harmonies.

Harmonious searching. Wanting all of it to fit together. Now I return to my landscape, seeking a composition, a framwork, an armature. What is it that makes the eye wish to look further?

I do not echo the sentiments of Wordsworth. At 63 I still know the splendor of childhood and feel more awake and alive than ever before. It is just that I am slower and (I hope) calmer in these years.

Thanks for reading. I’m grateful for this morning’s opportunity to re-read my old journals. I recall well the experience of plein air painting in Caprock Canyon State Park. I just don’t remember scribbling all this out in my journal! I’m glad I did.

Winter Reading by the Fire

View from Studio Eidolons Window

Meanwhile we did our nightly chores,

Brought in the wood from out of doors.

John Greenleaf Whittier, “Snow-Bound”

(I started this blog the morning it snowed in Arlington, Texas. I came down sick and didn’t complete it. Now I have some convalescing time to catch up on some things.)

Texas doesn’t see much snow, particularly in the north central region. I cannot help but to rhapsodize over it when it does show up. We built a nice fire in the fire place, brewed a batch of Cowboy Coffee, and I pulled my Houghton-Mifflin 1891 edition of Whittier poems from my proud collection of old editions and read “Snow-Bound” in its entirety.

Today felt like a school closure day, but it isn’t–I’m retired and aside from that it’s Martin Luther King Day. Still, there are no cars driving down our suburban roads and it feels like we’re snowbound.

Today I feel like pulling a stack of old journals from my shelf to find out what kinds of things I wrote on comparable winter days from the past.

Hark! February 16, 2018, while residing in the basement of The Redlands Hotel (Gallery at Redlands was upstairs) I opened my hardback copy of The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, Revised and Expanded Edition. I had purchased it that day at Palestine’s public library book sale for $1.50. (I also purchased a hard cover coffee table book Wyeth at Kuerners for $2, now available on Amazon for $105). Reading Sandburg’s introduction, I came across this amazing paragraph that perfectly describes many of my “also ran” +paintings:

There is a formal poetry perfect only in form, “all dressed up and nowhere to go.” The number of syllables, the designated and required stresses of accent, thje rhymes if wanted–they come off with the skill of a solved crossword puzzle. Yet its animation and connotation are less than that of “a dead mackerel in the moonshine,” the latter even as an extinct form reporting that once it was a living fish aswim in bright waters.

I suppose I will wrestle with the distinction between art and mechanics my entire life. I never apologize for high standards in mechanics, only for thinking they can take the place of “art”. I look at much of my work from the past (and present) and often reach the conclusion: “correct, but still lacking.” I just like the way Sandburg described that same issue with poetry.

Thanks for reading.

Thanks for reading.

Warming Thoughts During the Freeze . . .

Frigid Saturday in The Gallery at Redlands

If you just sit and observe, you will see how restless your mind is. If you try to calm it, it only makes it worse, but over time it does calm, and when it does, there’s room to hear more subtle things–that’s when your intuition starts to bloom and you start to see things more clearly and be in the present more. Your mind just slows down, and you see a tremendous expanse in the moment. You see so much more than you could see before. It’s a discipline; you have to practice it.

Steve Jobs, quoted in Walter Isaacson, Steve Jobs

Wow, 29 degrees this morning in Palestine! Not your usual Texas climate. Morning traffic in the gallery is near zero, and that’s a good thing, considering my difficulties lately in slowing down for quality thought and meditation. Pulling the Steve Jobs biography from my shelf has been serendipitous. I have always been a fan of his “Think Different” ad launched in 1997. Re-reading the story of its genesis and launch has inspired me to read more about the creatives featured in the ad. My hand is cramping from all the journal pages I’ve scribbled out this morning as I’ve ferreted out the details of Steve Jobs and his return to Apple and the new direction the company took.

After a nice long hiatus over the Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year holidays, I’ve turned my attention to our art business and 2024. Already we’ve lined up eight potential art events for the new year and I’ll be releasing details soon of my workshops, demonstrations and art festivals on this new calendar.

I have eight remaining watercolor classes on the schedule for the rest of January, at Gallery at Redlands as well as Studio 48. If you have interest in my schedule, please reach out to me (email dmtripp2000@yahoo.com or phone 817-821-8702) and I’ll gladly add you to the announcement launch.

I have been experimenting lately with a set of Japanesque Colour watercolors. I’m intrigued with their natural colors, which appear duller than the Winsor & Newton colors I’ve used for years. The jury is still out, but I plan to continue studying their overall effects on my compositions. I’ve framed one of my 8 x 10″ winter sketches and have it displayed now in the Gallery at Redlands.

The day is cold here, but I’m enjoying the quiet and the space in the gallery. I hope your day is splendid and that you are keeping warm!

Thanks for reading.

Changes at Gallery at Redlands

With the new year, Sandi and I enjoyed a working weekend with many changes in our gallery. Christmas decorations came down, several artists brought in new work to replace existing pieces, and we opened up the view into the streetside window.

Sadly, the monumental green sculpture, Meditations on Looking and Seeing by Jeffie Brewer, will be departing soon as will his two mid-size pieces. But Jeffie is remaining with us, much to our delight, and new work from him will arrive soon.

More to come. Thanks for reading.

Warm Thoughts on a Chilly and Foggy Gallery Morning

Gallery at Redlands Saturday morning, January 6, 2024

I force my mind to become self-absorbed and not let outside things distract it. There can be absolute bedlam without so long as there is no commotion within.

Seneca, Letter to Lucilius

The first-century Stoic philosopher Seneca wrote the above in a letter while he was soaking in a Roman spa, listening to all the “health club” tumultuous noise all around him. The man possessed that uncanny ability to phase out distractions while he focused on things that mattered to him.

My chief New Year resolution for 2024 is to find a way to live in this country separate from the daily negative political and social news clatter that poisons the dispositions of good people. I have been weary of it in more recent years. Since our next election will be in November, it seems inevitable that the entire 2024 will feature a cacophony of angry American rhetoric around the clock, and most likely, well into 2025. I will not join. Do people really enjoy that?

Even if the world seems out of control, the Stoics taught that we could lead meaningful, productive, and happy lives. Moreover, even in adverse situations, our lives can still be tranquil and characteized by psychological equanimity.

David Fideler, Breakfast with Seneca: A Stoic Guide to the Art of Living

Just before the New Year, I picked up a copy of Breakfast with Seneca at the Barnes & Noble Store, noticing that Seneca and the general subject of Stoicism was showing up in a number of volumes scattered about the store. Some of the works are geared toward living a quality life in our present day, and others are paperback editions of Seneca’s writings. No doubt the book publishers are cashing in on the chaos of our present day. But I’m grateful for these particular publications selling alongside the venomous ones.

Sitting in an armchair with coffee, I read the first chapter of the book, then went promptly to the cash register. The book continues to hold my attention, now six days into the New Year, and already I feel a different sentiment as I face each day anew. Sitting in The Gallery at Redlands this morning, I feel that there is something sweeter in the air, no doubt from what I’m gleaning from these precious words.

I will never cease being thankful for my education that allowed me to learn Greek. The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius were written in that language, and as I now read the English translations of Seneca’s letters, I continue to come across many of the key words the Stoics employed to advance their main ideas.

Fideler’s book translates one of the key Stoic words as “progressor.” I suppose I would have problems coming up with one word to take in this rich idea. The Greek word prokoptôn takes on a much richer flavor when consulting the Liddell & Scott Greek Lexicon: “to cut away before one or clear the way in front hence to forward or promote a work.” In the passive voice it translates: “to advance, thrive, prosper.” Liddell & Scott continue to expand the idea: “to make one’s way forward, to make progress of time, to be far gone, far advanced.”

Reading all of the above sent my mind into a multitude of passages, from the biblical prophet Isaiah’s metaphors of clearing a path through the wilderness, as well as John the Baptist’s echoing sermon. My plan next is to consult the LXX (Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible) to see if this word appears in any of the prophetic writings. I still am amazed at the rich metaphors and images that color the prophets’ words as they leaned forward in anticipation of a better future.

Henry David Thoreau employed rich imagery as he inspired his readers to cut through all the debris that hinders us from finding a quality life:

Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downwards through the mud and slush of opinion and tradition, and pride and prejudice, appearance and delusion, through the alluvium which covers the globe, through poetry and philosophy and religion, through church and state, through Paris and London, through New York and Boston and Concord, till we come to a hard bottom that rocks in place which we can call reality and say, “This is and no mistake.“

Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Returning to the idea of Seneca writing positive, reassuring words while in the midst of Roman spa pandemonium, I think of the possibility of The Redlands Hotel growing noisy in the lobby as the Queen Street Grille offers up its monthly Saturday brunch (a real highlight of downtown Palestine) that draws hundreds of diners. Sitting here at this gallery desk as the noise increases makes me smile and realize that if Seneca can do it, so shall I.

So here is to the Year 2024 and my intention to write only positive material on the blog, hoping to make someone feel better instead of worse.

Thanks for reading.

Going Home in 2024

January 1, 2024. Gallery at Redlands

There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labor. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.

Ecclesiastes 2:24 (KJV)

The Redlands Hotel is quiet this morning. I’ve packed my gear to return home, but choose to pause in silence in The Gallery at Redlands and enjoy the moment, savoring every memory of yesterday’s anticipation of the New Year, still nodding to the highs and lows of 2023.

Strolling the pages of Ecclesiastes again (my New Year tradition since 1973) I enjoy the wisdom of the author, identified as Qoheleth (Hebrew for “preacher” or “one who calls out to the assembly”). In my years past, I stood before assemblies, both church and school. In those years, I tried to say the right things, always hoping I was offering something of value to congregations and students. Now retired, I speak far less frequently in public, but still wander the social media labyrinth, all the while wondering just what and how often I should attempt this blog.

In the days ahead, I look forward to sharing my ideas with anyone who wishes to read. I still have some new things I’m ready to try out in the watercolor world as well. But for now, I’m ready to go back on the road Home. I’ve been away too long.

Thank you for reading, and Happy New Year.