Tag Archives: kit miracle

Snowmageddon

I love this view of the ice-covered branches, sparkling in the sunlight.

Unless you’ve been living in a cave or on a remote island this week, you’ve heard about the huge snowstorm that swept the nation.  News stories abounded, showing endless reels of people who were worse off than you.  Ice, snow, trees crashing, roads impassable.

Well, this was our reality this week. 

The ice was the first to arrive, coating this rhododendron right outside the window.

Fortunately we had plenty of warning as we watched the storm roll up from Texas through the Ohio River Valley.  Watching hours of local weather predictors guess whether the front would stay upstate or come down our way. Where is the snow line?  Who will see sleet and ice?  It’s tiresome after awhile.

But we were a little nervous.  Ice on trees, add some wind, pop, there goes your electric for a few days.

My husband gets in pioneer mode.  Park the newer car in the garage.  Park the other vehicles away from the trees.  Make sure we have supplies in – milk, bread (I live with a guy who bakes), wine.  Check the oil lamps, the kerosene heater, the electronics are charged up as is the backup.  I spoke about this before in a previous blog.  We have a gas (propane) stove and hot water so no problem.  Can’t use the gas furnace or the wood furnace because there would be no electric to run the blowers.  But we do keep the wood fired up low to keep the pipes from freezing.

We were lucky this time.  First the ice, then some sleet, then some snow.  No wind.  No loss of power.  Just enjoy the peace inside with some books and the TV. 

View down the drive, with the late afternoon shadows. We didn’t really have any trouble getting out, especially after grading the driveway.

My husband and the neighbor got outside to grade the drive with their tractors.  I took a few walks with the dog.  The glittering ice on the trees was so beautiful, tinkling a bit with a little breeze.  Kept the birdfeeder filled.  We buy sunflower seeds in forty-pound bags. Now we’re listening to the giant thumps as the ice melts and slides off the roof.  The grandkids are over, taking more cooking lessons and playing with the toys that they don’t see every day.  Stomping and sliding outside with the dog. 

I hope you were able to find some good in the storm, even if it was just a little peaceful time to count your blessings. 

The birdfeed has been popular this week, normally with dozens of birds at a time. Cardinals, blue jays, woodpeckers, titmice, juncos, and more. We go through forty pounds of sunflower seeds pretty quickly.

Deeper roots

I like that quote above. There is something about being tested that makes me dig in deeper, like these gnarly tree roots. Yes, I feel the normal frustrations as everybody else, but when faced with a difficult challenge, I am not usually one to throw up my hands and give up. I’ll grouse and curse, take a break, but I always come back to a difficult problem and then figure out a way through, around, over, under.

I’ve always appreciated the Horatio Alger-type stories. Someone who overcomes the odds to end up on top. I guess I’m the eternal optimist. If so and so could do this, then I can, too. Obviously within reason and physical limitations. I will never be a center on a basketball team. Nor dead lift 300 pounds. But most problems have solutions.

This week I had my credit card hacked. A fixable problem but just an annoyance. And I’ve been dealing with the changes that Facebook made to the operations of some of my pages. I watched numerous videos, consulted a helpful friend, and decided to set the problem aside for awhile. Sometimes a fresh outlook works best. And the weather is still too dang cold to spend much time outside. The temperature was three degrees (F) this morning.

There were a few other things but they all run together after awhile.

Fortunately, I was able to spend a little time in the studio this week – keeping in mind my description of how cold it can be from last week’s post. I didn’t feel like painting so I grabbed some charcoal and began another tree study. This one is of some very interesting roots on a large tree in front of the house. I love the shadows. And the quote to match settled my attitude.

I guess we all have ways of dealing with adversity. Mine is to dig in deeper. Or sometimes step back and take a break, then find a new approach. What is yours?

Painting in the deep freeze

This little English robin is looking right at the viewer. Watercolor on Arches paper.

After a very balmy December, we have been experiencing some single digit temperatures this week.  Too cold for plein air painting, at least for me. Fortunately, most of the snow has missed us. So I mostly trekked between my house and the studio, a commute of only about thirty feet.

If I haven’t mentioned it before, my studio is an old summer kitchen.  This is where cooking and canning was done during the worst of the summer heat, when cookstoves burned wood.  The whole point was to keep the heat out of the house.  Well, what that really means is that there is no insulation in the building and most of the windows are single pane.  It is pretty dang cold out there.  I have a wall propane heater but keep it turned pretty low when I’m not there.  Sometimes, too low.  The water for my work will freeze and it takes awhile for the building to heat up.

However, this is a perfect time of year to create some smalls, i.e., small topical paintings.  I’ve been thinking spring, or at least wishing for it.  I’ve been painting flowers and bunnies, robins and a cute little mouse.  I get on a roll and don’t know when to stop.  Well, usually after a couple of weeks, I’m ready for something more challenging.

These little paintings are popular in the local shops and in my Etsy shops.  Although they make great gifts, sometimes it’s nice to just buy something for yourself.

Much warmer in the summer.

Solo show opening this week

I gave a little background behind the Breaking Bread series. I could only exhibit about six paintings in the series due to space limitations.

My solo show at the Harrison County Arts gallery opened yesterday. This is in downtown Corydon, Indiana, the first state capitol of Indiana. It’s a quaint little town and is about thirty miles west of Louisville, Kentucky. It gets a lot of visitors and many people work in the big city.

Harrison County Arts is a co-op of a group of volunteers who manage and present quality art and crafts of regional artists.

I dropped off my work the week before and the volunteers did the rest. They did a lovely job hanging the exhibit although the space is limited. My show is the last exhibit at this gallery. They’re moving across the street to another space which is several times larger.

This exhibit features a few paintings from my Breaking Bread series. The remainder are mainly focused on Southern Indiana scenes and locations. There are a variety of oils and acrylics with a few prints in a rack.

Despite being a chilly Friday night during a pandemic, the turnout was very decent. Many guests had interesting questions. As an artist, I always have something to spout on about my work. I didn’t see anyone’s eyes glazing over. And everyone wore masks!

The show runs through February 26th and there are pieces in all price ranges. The location is at 121 E Chestnut Street, Corydon IN 47112. Their hours are Tuesday through Thursday, 12 – 4, Friday 12 – 6, and Saturday 10 – 2.

If you’re looking for the gallery, this is the outside. It’s on Chestnut Street in Corydon next to Butt Drugs (yes, a real place).

Hello 2022, good bye 2021.  A year in review.

I don’t know about you but the past year has certainly been a roller coaster ride, one of ups and downs, good and bad.  It seems as if we’re all in a bit of a daze and ready to say good riddance to 2021.

Way back in January, we were all just beginning to fall off the cliff into the realization of the seriousness of the pandemic.  Confusion reigned. Many countries were still locked down or were thinking about it. We were getting tired of being confined homebodies. But hope reigned with the news that a vaccine was on the horizon. Some of us were scrambling to make sure we could sign up as soon as possible.

On top of this, the nation looked on with alarm at the mess in the capitol before the inauguration.  Most of us had never lived through anything like this but there were some memories of the demonstrations back in the 60s and 70s.  Life repeats itself.

The new Thyen Clark Cultural Center is completed. It opened in January and is always hosting some activity or function, from classes, to weddings, to Santa’s reindeer.

Many good things also happened this past year.  For one thing, the new Thyen-Clark Cultural Center in Jasper opened.  I had a small part in working on that project for ten years before I retired.  Others picked up the ball and saw it to fruition.  So proud of the town and citizens. What a showplace!

Bread and Miriam. My friend is delighted to display her new painting. We had such a fun morning visiting, talking about books and life.

Remember when people were stockpiling toilet paper and bread was hard to get?  I reposted my Artesian Bread recipe.  My friend Miriam said that making bread was the highlight of her spring.  But I was also forced to buy 25 pounds of rye flour when I couldn’t find it in smaller packages.  My husband is a great bread maker.  Lucky me.

After months of playing hermit, my husband and I sneaked off for a quick trip to Florida.  We rented a house so we were still hermits, just with better weather. 

About 35 students attended my presentation. Great questions, too!

My big solo exhibit in May / June at the cultural center went off without a hitch.  It was so satisfying to see two years’ of work on the new gallery walls.  Loads of visitors, including friends from all over the state.  Thank you!

Spring threw some surprises at us.  We had some beautiful flowers but I held off planting.  Good thing as we had a very late snow on May 10th!  I covered up the things that I did plant and everything turned out well.

Slightly creepy feeling, this is what the cicadas look like when they first shed their brown shells. It will attach itself to something – twig, trees, side of house – while it pumps up it’s wings, then takes off to find a mate for a day. No mouths or stingers.

Then there was the cicada invasion.  Thousands of the little bugs, all singing their mating calls at 90 decibels.  Very annoying but it passed eventually.  The birds and toads were really happy.

Tomatoes, tops. L-R bottom: Pink Brandywine, Red Beefsteak, San Marzano. Top: Celebrity, Better Boy, Park Whopper, Goliath, Roma.

Our garden produce was heavy and bug-free this year.  We couldn’t even put up all that we grew and tried to give much of it away.  All this despite the late planting, and planting fewer plants.

We were very grateful to be living in the country where we could get outside, go for a drive, eat lunch by the river. 

I really love the variety of mini pumpkins and squashes.

September saw the requisite visit to the pumpkin farm.  Paintings in three shows.  And winding up for the holidays. Overall art sales tripled.  Time to set bigger goals.

I hope that as you take time to look back over the past year, that you have some good memories, too.  Let us all hope the coming year is much improved.

Introspection

I have an exhibit coming up in January and was recently asked by the gallery director what the title of my exhibit will be.  Duh?  You would think that a person who has spent most of her life in the creative field would be more imaginative in this respect.  Uh, my name?  The types of paintings I’ll exhibit?  I finally landed on the title:  Introspection. 

Alone. Intimate Spaces – Breaking Bread series. Acrylic on canvas. 30 x 24. Kit Miracle

Introspection seems to represent what we do at the end of the year and the beginning of the new year.  How were things?  What did we learn?  What do we hope for the new year? 

Let’s face it.  It’s been a difficult year.  Most of us did not expect to still be dealing with a world pandemic.  Wild weather and climate change.  Economic and world political disputes. 

This led me to contemplate my Intimate Spaces: Breaking Bread series of paintings.  I plan to include several of these pieces in the upcoming exhibit.  Many of them represent the theme of being alone. Eating alone or limited to a close group of friends and family. 

Sunday Dinner has taken a new meaning these days. A small family gathering at a restaurant.

Some people seem to have handled being alone better than others.  For an artist, this is a normal state to reach down deep to access my thoughts and determine how best to express them.  I enjoy the time with my thoughts and am not lonely, just alone. 

Other creative people – dancers, musicians, those who work in large studio groups – thrive on the lively input of many minds. What looks to me like chaos is their life blood.  With theaters shuttered and musical venues closed, I can only sympathize.

Dinner at Octave. One of our favorite restaurants. Very eclectic with all kinds of people.

For me, being alone whether spending time in the studio, reading, taking a walk in the woods, or even attending a movie or performance alone is an enjoyable experience.  It doesn’t really matter who I’m with or how many people are around me.

But being lonely is no fun for anyone.  And, yes, I’ve been there, too.  This is a much more nobody likes me emotional state.  You can be surrounded by  people and yet still feel hollow and disconnected.

Alone II, acrylic on canvas, 24 x 30. I saw this old guy having breakfast at a fast food place. I don’t know if he was widowed or, perhaps, an old veteran.

This has been a difficult couple of years for everyone and the holiday season is an especially emotional time.  Maybe you’ve been separated from your family and friends.  You’ve been working from home and don’t have any work buddies to pal around with.  Maybe you’ve moved and don’t have any friends in your new city.  I’m not a psychologist but I do know that people are not going to knock on your door.  As a friend told me a long time ago; there are always people like you (in the area); you just have to go out and find them. 

Even if you live in as unpopulated an area as I do (and it would be difficult to find many counties in the Eastern part of the United States with a more sparse population than mine), there are still some people like you out there.  Go to the library, join a club, start your own club.  What special interests do you have?  Hiking, biking, fishing, playing ball?  Maybe you like to volunteer at the animal shelter or help others.  Young people who are new to a city or area often reach out through online groups to plan activities.

Whoever you are out there, I hope that you can enjoy the holidays. That you’re not alone or lonely. Let us all hold higher aspirations for a new year. 

Night Reaper

It is not unusual here in the Midwest to see farmers harvesting late into the night during the season.  Last year our renter harvested past one in the morning.  Only fatigue drives them inside.

Night Reaper. Acrylic on canvas board, 11 x 14. Kit Miracle

Earlier this week, the farmer was rushing to get the corn in before the rain predicted the following day.  The giant combine looks like some eerie monster gobbling up the stalks, spitting the debris out the back.  The grain trucks meet the combine in the field to be filled and cart away the gold. 

I have always been fascinated by night activities such as these and I sneaked out to take a bunch of reference photos.  I don’t know why I have to sneak on my own property but I felt compelled to do so, hiding in the shadows and behind the trees.  With the low light conditions and the movement of the equipment, most of the photos were blurred but I managed to get some good shots, too.  I was just using my phone camera, not my good camera.

The clouds were scudding across the night sky, alternating blotting out the nearly full moon and then darkening everything.  The lights on the equipment were dazzling.  The dust kicked up by the harvest hung in the air like smoke, sometimes caught in the blue light of the moon.

I find night subjects to be interesting and compelling in a totally different way than daytime subjects.  I’ve sketched leaning up against buildings in Times Square and have painted the buildings of the city seen at night. Watching diners through the window of a restaurant can be fascinating.

What is going on in your neighborhood in the dark that is worth capturing in art?

Dreaming of colors

And the golden ones came, Dreamland Series. 16 x 20, acrylic on canvas, Kit Miracle

My painting activities often insert themselves into my dreams.  That’s probably an occupational hazard from creating so much.  Reading about art, making art, visiting art.  It doesn’t bother me. Sometimes I find that I have worked out a painting problem in my sleep. 

But a while back I woke up with a most vivid image in my mind.  Very bright colors, semi-abstract, nothing like my usual subject matter or palette.  Fortunately, I was able to keep the image in mind (it was that strong) and later captured it in my studio.  This does not happen often. 

This led to several other paintings in a similar vein.  Bright colors, semi-abstract, nature themes of birds and flowers and trees.  A few recognizable subjects of water and ponds, bridges and houses.  Vivid skies and vegetation. 

Dawn at the Little Pond, Dreamland Series, 16 x 20, acrylic on canvas, Kit Miracle

I’m calling this my Dreamland series.  There are about seven paintings so far.  I’ve been distracted with some other work lately so I hope that I can get back to this idea or state of mind.  The bright colors just make me happy.

I don’t have these listed for sale yet as two of them are on exhibition right now.  But check back later in my Etsy shop KitMiracleArt to see if they’ve been added.

Sometimes we just need to follow our intuition and have fun creating.  Or so I think.

What are you doing to break out of your routine?

Plein air painting in autumn

The Big Rock, East Fork White River. These large sandstone rocks line the river and bluffs. The autumn colors set off the scene. Acrylic on canvas, 12 x 16.

October started out pretty warm with temperatures in the 80s.  However, with November’s arrival, the past week or so, we’ve had some heavy frosts and night temps have dropped to the 20s.  Daytime still warms up to the 50s and 60s.  This is a perfect time to do some plein air painting.  The garden has been cleaned out and outdoor work has slowed.

Last Monday I picked up my friend Bill Whorrall to go out and do some work.  Southern Indiana is so beautiful this time of year with the fall colors and hilly terrain.  We decided to paint along the East Fork of the White River near Shoals.  We checked out several spots but eventually landed at the nature preserve Bluffs at Beaver Bend.  You can only drive a short way in, then hike along the path with the river on your right and the sandstone bluffs on your left.  So many picturesque scenes to paint. 

I decided to paint this big rock with the river behind it.  Bill traveled a little farther up the path to capture the sandstone cliffs in some ink sketches. We saw an eagle traveling along the river but unfortunately didn’t get any photos.

It was so peaceful there but not as isolated as we had thought it would be on a Monday morning.  Several groups of hikers including a few guys from Chicago.  They said they always try to get away together this time of year and go someplace within a day’s drive.

We worked for a few hours and then the wind picked up and we began to get chilled.  I got about 75% of my painting done and then finished it up at home.  I dropped Bill off at his house where his wife Karen had made a vegetable cheese soup, sandwiches and dessert for lunch.  I think we welcomed the warmth of the soup as much as the food.

Afterwards we toured Karen’s extensive garden which was still producing raspberries and some other goodies.

Then for a lovely ride home through the autumn colors.

A walk in the woods. This is the complete plein air painting that I showcased last week. Just some autumn trees and interesting shadows with a path leading up into the big woods. Acrylic on canvas board, 11 x 14.
Charles House, Richmond, Indiana. Charles House is actually the building on the left side. This location is actually behind the beautiful rose garden on the edge of Glen Miller park in Richmond. I think the little cottage might have actually been a summer kitchen at one time. A very peaceful autumn scene. Acrylic on canvas, 12 x 16.

October roundup

The pumpkins on the porch are still making a nice display. They’ll end up as food for the chickens next month.

October has been so busy here on the homeplace.  The temperature was in the 80s at the beginning of the month.  Now it has dropped to 50s in the day with dips to the 30s at night.  Might have had a light frost (which I didn’t actually see) but will definitely have one later this week.

The garden has been picked clean.  All of the last peppers, beans, and tomatoes have been gathered.  It’s been mowed, tilled, and a winter wheat cover crop has been planted. This will get tilled under in the spring and helps provide needed body to the soil.  The flower pots are being emptied and cleaned out.  The spiders have been chased from their homes on the porch and all the summer shoes, boots and gardening tools have been rounded up and put away.

Persimmons. The animals love these fruits but I don’t particularly care for them. They’re a bit tart until after the first frost. Persimmon pulp is used in many recipes for cakes, muffins and puddings.
Walnuts. Walnuts. Walnuts. All the trees are bearing heavy crops this year.

We’ve had a bumper crop all summer with the fruit trees being loaded so much we couldn’t pick them all.  This trend is continuing into the autumn with an abundance of walnuts and persimmons.  You really don’t want to stand under a walnut tree on a windy day.  It sounds like gunfire.  I’ve picked a bucket of redbud seedpods and have scattered them in the woods.  They’re an understory tree so wherever the dogwoods grow, they’ll do fine, too.  And I picked another container of beebalm seed heads.  I’ll scatter those along the drive and edges of the fields.  There is a nice stand of this plant where I sowed the seeds a couple of years ago.

Lilacs blooming in October. Yes, here is proof.

With the warmer weather, some of the plants and bushes have been a bit mixed up.  I noticed that one of my lilacs was blooming.  That was a nice surprise in…er…October.  And the forsythia always seems to get a second autumn bloom.

Doing a little plein air painting up in the woods. The fall colors are just approaching peak.

Fall break meant the grandkids got to come out and spend some country time.  A walk in the woods is always fun.  We never see any wildlife (due to the dog running ahead) but we spotted a great variety of mushrooms and other fungi.  I took the granddaughter to see an especially lovely exhibit of paintings by Louisville artist Joyce Garner.

Visiting the Joyce Garner exhibit at the Thyen-Clark cultural center.

And I was particularly busy doing arty things.  Driving one way to drop off paintings for a show, and the other way to pick up some work.  Often in the same day!  Recorded books make the time go by quicker.

And finally, went to my class reunion.  Who are all these old people?!  It had been postponed from last year due to COVID, but it was nice to reconnect with some old friends.  It’s a lot of hard work so kudos to the committee who tirelessly kept prodding everyone to sign up, and actually show up.  Another long drive accompanied by recorded books.  And some beautiful fall scenery.

On this last day of October, celebrate a little. Go out and beat the drums and howl at the moon.  Or maybe snitch a piece or two of candy from any little people who may live with you.  Or buy an extra bag for yourself.  Happy Halloween!