Flowers in Winter -- Two New Paintings and Dreams of the Garden

Since returning from my Creative Retreat, I've shared pages from my sketchbooks and peeks of pieces I've done on scraps of watercolor paper (one of my favorite ways to sketch and play and practice), but none of what I've shared has been "serious" art.

And although I did a lot of playing during January, I also completed a couple botanical watercolor paintings.

The wind chill was in double-digit negatives, but I couldn't resist bringing a little blooming orchid plant home from the store (zipping it up in my coat to shelter it from the cold on the way home).

Yes, I already had many -- I won't admit how many -- phalaenopsis orchids in my studio, but their buds haven't opened yet.

And I needed flowers.

Soon.

Until then, there will always be flowers on paper (this time aided by my new sweet plant).

I'm working on a non-flowery commission right now, but perhaps when I'm finished with it some of my other orchids will have opened. I have a vision for my next painting.

Possibly the hardest thing about winter for me is that I don't have a garden filled with flowers (and herbs and veggies) out the back door for inspiration.

Painting from photo inspiration just isn't the same. It lacks the connection I get when I'm sitting with a flower in front of me.

There are few things as joy-filled as bringing the garden into my studio.

An armload of flowers

or a handful of tomatoes.

I know, I know. I have plenty of subjects to paint at any time of the year, but when I want flowers, nothing else will do.

                       "There are always flowers for those who want to see them."
                                                  --Henri Matisse

I always want to see them.

This rose wreath painting was inspired by a sketch from last year.

Without looking at the date, I would have said the sketch was done in the garden in the summer, but I would have been wrong.

Apparently that one was also done in the depths of January, working from photos, my imagination and memory.

As much as I enjoy sketching like that, there are few things as magical as sitting in the garden with my sketchbook and micron pens, connecting with nature while I fill up a page.

That time will come.

Until then, I'll be in my studio. Dreaming and planning and painting and drawing and savoring the magic that exists all year long.

I hope you will be savoring, too.


p.s. both of these paintings are now available in my shop. You can find them here and here.