Saturday, December 24, 2011

Christmas Eve

Have a Merry Christmas, my dear blog readers!

Monday, December 19, 2011

It's life

M came home late on December 10th, after being gone since July. Two days later, he was in the hospital. It wasn't the homecoming either of us had anticipated. The good news is that he is okay, and today, he finally got to come home from the hospital. A big, heartfelt thank you goes out to all of you who called, emailed and prayed for him this past week. It means so much to both of us. We will make every effort to to follow up with each of you individually, but I thought this blog might be the quickest way to deliver the good news to all of you.

The Christmas cards might end up being New Year's Cards, and a few Christmas packages might be a little late, but those things don't seem so important to me right now. Not because I don't think of you who are far away, but simply because I know you will all understand that my priorities were elsewhere.

In other, desert-related news: our backyard has been the happening spot in the early morning hours, before the sun comes up. One morning, we had a bobcat, stalking a cottontail. It is the first bobcat I have seen in several years, and it was thrilling. A few days later, two coyotes had killed a jackrabbit. I managed only a few shots before a certain fuzzy dog noticed my interest and frightened them all away by running out his dog door, barking. A friend of mine asked me if it was hard for me to see the coyotes kill one of my beloved jackrabbits. I didn't really know how to reply. I've had a few days to think about it now, and this is what I have decided: I understand the relationship between life and death. All living things die, and when one creature dies so that another may live, there is a sense of rightness to that. What I really have trouble with is suffering.

You can just make out the jackrabbit in the coyote's mouth.

Friday, December 9, 2011


"Vision." Monotype, 7 x 5 inches.

This brand-spanking-new monotype was delivered to Art of Framing in San Diego on Wednesday, along with some other new monotypes and small paintings. I even managed to do a small amount of exploring in San Diego, which was a major step for me. (I am terrified of the city, and in particular, the traffic.) I found a wonderful little cluster of galleries in a part of town called "Little Italy." I hope to go back when I have a little more time, and maybe when I can convince a friend to go with me.

Got some REALLY exciting news: M might actually be coming home tomorrow night!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whoa! I had to spend the day clearing paintings and boxes out of the way, so that he doesn't feel like his whole house has been overtaken with art. Even after a day of working on this particular task, I realize he may still feel like his whole house has been overtaken with art. It's his own fault, for leaving me alone with paint and brushes for such a long time. Right? Right.

Have a fantastic weekend everyone. I am thankful to you all, for reading and for your comments and feedback.

Monday, December 5, 2011


I spend quite a lot of time thinking about relationships. It is a major theme in my art, and I believe relationships are one of the most significant forces in our lives. In particular, I think our relationships with other people can be life changing. As an artist, my life tends to be filled with solitude, and I often find myself closing people out so that I can paint. Lately, however, I have begun to realize that I need other people. It is time to carve out a bit more space in my life and my heart for people: face to face, quality time with people I am fond of. Even if it means one less painting is born.

I know that there is risk involved. When we open our hearts to another, there is always the chance we will be hurt by them. In fact, it seems inevitable that we will eventually hurt someone we love, unintentionally or purposefully. But that is no reason to close ourselves off. There is much more to be gained by taking the risk to love and be loved, and this is what we must remember. This is what I say to myself.

We all know that communication is essential to any relationship, and just like anything else worth doing, it must be practiced. Non artists might not realize that one of the reasons an artist creates art is because it is how we are most comfortable communicating. It is a form of self-discovery, but art is also how artists say things that seem impossible to convey any other way.
"Revealing Light." Monotype, 5 x 7 inches.
 Do we spend so much time afraid of saying the wrong thing that we end up saying nothing at all?

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Sequim, WA

I disappeared to a small town in Washington last week. Visited my sister and her family for Thanksgiving. I got my fill of leaves, water, and gray skies. Sequim is a lovely town, with abundant farm animals, old barns, and friendly faces. Moss grows on everything. I mean EVERYTHING. It will never cease to amaze me how one can now jump on a airplane, and in one day travel from a dry, dusty desert to a town of rain and green green green. GREEN.

 Next time I am going back for berry season. Doesn't that sound fun?

I have discovered the advantages and drawbacks to traveling with a Kindle. They are as follows:
can carry more than one book and not strain back or shoulder, while lugging things around airports
the little light comes in handy (on my cover)
No one knows what I am reading by the cover
The battery lasts a long time
I can download another book anywhere there is a 3G connection

I have to stop reading during takeoff and landing
The books I REALLY want to read cost as much on the Kindle as they would if I bought the actual book.
One must remember to bring the cord to charge it
No cover art. (i miss this!)
No pages (for those of us who are into the tactile qualities of reading a book

Overall, I like the Kindle for travel, because it is lightweight and convenient. I'm just sayin'.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Crime Scene

I was on my way to meet a friend. It was morning and the shadows were long. The night had been cool, although bright sunshine promised a warmer day. Pono bounded ahead of me, excited about the cool air and the prospect of being outside. I was still a bit groggy from sleep as I trudged up the dusty hill. This wasn't the kind of meeting that had been arranged ahead of time, but this friend is the kind who stays in one place.  She's steadfast and dependable. It didn't even occur to me that she might not be there. As I approached her usual spot, I looked up. At first, it didn't register. I knew something was amiss, but I was still groggy enough to not realize what it was. Then, it hit me. She wasn't there. It didn't make any sense. She was always there! Confusion.

When I finally reached the crest of the hill and looked around, I saw it all. The evidence was all there in front of me. She had been cut - hacked apart, really. The marks in the sand clearly showed how she had been dragged from where she was standing. She was in pieces. Someone had burned her. I felt pain, sharp and deep. Tears didn't come at first. I merely stood there, shocked and frozen. How could someone be so cruel? Who would do such a thing? It was unthinkable, yet there it all was, in front of me. And I was too late to do anything to save her.

I then began to think about her and what she meant to me. Her beautiful, long limbs. Her strength. The way she flowered last spring. The way she looked when the morning light hit her. How I always felt comfort when I saw her. She asked nothing of me, or anyone. I am convinced she knew things I didn't. Now she is gone. Forever. She died, for one night of campfire pleasure.

Thursday, November 10, 2011


A new, untitled monotype.  7 x 5 inches.

Yes, I know.  It's been a rather long silence from me. My computer crashed!!!  Even though I have an old computer I can use, it just isn't the same as my beloved laptop. I have been able to retrieve MOST of the essential data from the crashed computer, but it took days and more patience than I really posses. That is my version of "the dog ate my homework."  Excuses are so lame.

Mostly, I am still a little wiped out from the studio tours. I have been printing new monotypes and even a new linocut. I have been running around, delivering art to people who bought things over the art tours weekend. I have been bundling up in warm clothes, as the desert suddenly turned cold, dark, and gloomy.  (seemingly overnight.) I have been writing down recipes that I will never make. (a new hobby.) I have been running and walking with the fuzzy dog. I am reading a book called Cutting from Stone, that was lent to me by a friend. And, ultimately, I am waiting impatiently for my husband to come home. Without the business of preparing for the Art Tours, I have suddenly found myself thinking about how much I miss him, and perhaps that has added to my downward spiral. I guess this is the "after tours crash."

Please don't worry about me. I will survive. I am not looking for sympathy or even good advice right now. I am just telling you what I have been up to. I think I am also trying to purge myself of this state I have found myself in by writing about it.

So this is a short post saying that I am sorry to not write anything more interesting.  AND, I am sorry that I haven't caught up with all of my fellow bloggers. I truly am! I am just not myself. A faint version of my usual self writes this, waiting for the tides to change. Just like the moon, I wax and wane.

Someone left a book at my house during the Art Tours. Is anyone missing a copy of Pressfield's book? If so, email me.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Happy Hummingbird

November first!  Wow. 

The Art Tours last weekend was a wonderful, busy few days.  A big, smoochy thank you to all who came out!  I cannot thank you enough for coming, for your comments, and of course, to those of you who found a piece to take home with you.  You ROCK! 

Came home from a run with Mr. Pono this morning to the sight of my Autumn sage literally covered with hummingbirds.  They were zooming all over the front courtyard.  Now how could I let that go without trying to capture a few moments for you?  I couldn't. 

I'm pretty sure this is a Black Chinned Hummingbird.
Happy November!

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Cottontail painting

The house and studio are coming together for this weekend's Hwy 62 Art Tours.  I have been working hard, and I hope everyone enjoys all the new paintings on the walls.  The screaming gold frame crises has been solved with some black paint, rubbed onto the surface of the frames.  They are drying in the studio.  They may or may not be dry in time, but I have decided it isn't that important.  I do appreciate all of your helpful suggestions!

Feeling groggy after a restless night - there is just so much to do.  I will make this brief.  I apologize to my fellow bloggers.  I haven't been able to take the time to catch up with you.  I will stop and visit next week, when the big event is over. 
"Reclining."  Oil on board, 9 x 12 inches.  ©2011 Karine Swenson
I know many of you live far away, but for those who are nearby, I hope you will come and visit me this weekend.  9 to 5 pm on Saturday and Sunday.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Framing hell

This morning's sunrise.
 I am in the middle of framing hell: ordered frames for some new sunset paintings over the internet.  They arrived about 10 days ago.  They were ugly!  I sent them back and ordered some OTHER frames over the internet.  They FINALLY arrived this morning, and even though they are better than the first batch, I am still not happy with how they look.  (They are so shiny and gold they scream at me.)  So what do I do now, with the open studio event only four short days away? 
Panic?  Never a good option. 
Show the paintings in the screaming gold frames?  No. 
Send the SECOND BATCH of frames back and try again, paying extra money for fast shipping?  ????  AAAAaaaaaaaCK!  (okay, so I had to panic for just a minute there.  I'm better now.)  I still don't know what to do.  I keep thinking if I sit here long enough and stare into space, a wonderful, creative solution will come to me.  Interestingly enough, my muse seems to have left me, just when I needed her the most.  Don't worry, I will figure it out.  It is, after all, an imperfect world.

For those of you who came looking for me and my open studio this past weekend, I apologize for not being home.  I am showing next weekend.  It is confusing, because every year the east end is switched around.  Last year I did show on the first weekend, but this year, I am on the second weekend.  I will suggest to the Art Tours committee to keep it the same weekend, from now on.  It is too hard to remember otherwise.  I hope you won't give up on me, and still take time out of your busy lives to visit my studio next weekend, October 29th and 30th from 9 to 5 pm.  Or, you can stop by Friday, from noon to 5 pm for the sneak preview.

"Comparisons."  Oil on canvas, 20 x 16 inches.  ©Karine Swenson2011.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Our Feathered Friends

I still haven't totally figured out my new camera.  So I begin with an apology for my lack of really good photographs.  I never said I was a photographer.  Painter.  Painter.  Nevertheless, I still make my awkward attempts to capture things I see for you, my dear blog readers.  It was a bird-filled weekend for me.  Turkey Vultures soaring overhead.  I love to watch them - they almost never flap their wings.  It lifts the spirit, to see something soar like those big birds do.  A large family of quail, visiting the front yard.  They make the most appealing sounds as they forage.  I should record it next time.  Ravens, fluffing in a Joshua Tree.  I wanted a closer shot of them, but Pono thinks ravens need to be barked at, and they flew off.  (Can't blame them much for that.)

I also have to tell you that this morning, on our way to a favored running spot, Pono and I saw a coyote pooping.  Now, this is not such a momentous event, except that afterward, it scratched its hind paws in the dust just like Pono does!  Pono was transfixed until the coyote did the scratching-in-the-dust part (they do this to spread the scent), then, for some reason he went ballistic and barked furiously.  Which was unfortunate, because then the coyote ran away.  Now WHY didn't I have my camera???  No one knows, not even me.  John Nieto, an artist from Santa Fe, recently did a (very cool) painting of a coyote and titled it "God's Dog."  I would agree wholeheartedly with that title.  They are so much like dogs, those desert tricksters. 

Fresh off the easel:
"Dazzling Dusk."  Oil on Board, 11 x 14 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011

Monday, October 17, 2011

Edible Sky

Fresh off the easel:
"Edible Sky."  oil on board, 14 x 11 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011

Friday, October 14, 2011


I've been busy in the studio, as the Hwy. 62 Art Tours approach.  There's nothing like a deadline to hurry things along.  Just think, in two weeks, I will be opening up my studio doors to the public!  Good thing I still have two weeks, since it's a mess in there right now.  I won't take too much time to write, but I did want to wish everyone a happy weekend.  I just saw a flock of turkey vultures soaring above.  They pass through Joshua Tree every year, and I was just beginning to wonder when I would see them.  If you wish to read a previous post about these big birds, click here.  Now I know it's fall.

The other exciting desert event of this week was on the Wednesday morning run with Mr. Pono the fuzz ball dog.  We happened upon a very angry, rattling Mojave green.  It is an unmistakable rattlesnake, because it does look quite green.  I ran past it first, and fortunately I was able to corral the dog before he took too great of an interest in the coiled snake.  I would have photographed it for you if it hadn't been so darn angry.  I am also not a skilled enough photographer to photograph a rattling snake while holding an excited dog at the same time.  I have shortcomings, you see.

Fresh off the easel:
"Last Light."  Oil on board, 14 x 11 inches.  ©Karine M Swenson 2011
  I love ya, dear readers!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Thoughts on a Tuesday evening

"Intimacy."  Oil on canvas, 18 x 24 inches.  ©Karine M Swenson 2011
News:  A spider has built a web around the pedals in my car.  I find this perplexing.  I don't drive every day, but I do drive my car more than once a week.  Plus, my car sits in a garage.  It amazes me, and I almost don't have the heart to destroy the web.  As an artist, I can respect the work involved.  If and when I do destroy it, simply in the act of driving, it will be with an explanation to the spider.  "Sorry, spider.  I respect your web, and your need to build it in order to survive.  However, the location you chose for your web was unfortunate, since the pedals must move in order for me to drive my car, so I can go to the grocery store.  I have to eat, too." 

People often ask me which subject matter I prefer.  I paint abstractly, I paint people, and I paint animals.  I have also been painting sunsets in the desert.  I love everything I paint.  If I didn't love it, I wouldn't paint it.  One of the reasons I became an artist is because I hated the idea of having to do the same thing every day.  Some days, I don't want to paint a rabbit.  I don't want to paint a portrait.  I just want to paint what's in my subconscious.  Those are the days for abstraction.  On other days, I don't want to paint abstractly.  Those are the days to paint rabbits, or skies.  What matters most to me is that I am squeezing color out of tubes, mixing it on the palette, and laying it down on canvas or board with a brush or a knife.  Art is how I understand the world and how I understand myself.  I seem to need to jump around from subject to subject.  That is how I stay excited about what I am doing. 

I have also found that painting abstractly helps my representational work.  I am able to be more free with color and mark-making.  I also have stronger compositions because of the abstract work.  The representational work, in different ways, helps with my abstract work.  I learn how to make the paint do what I want it to do, and it helps me keep my drawing skills sharp.  For me, the different styles of my work are what make me a better artist. 

Interestingly enough, it seems as though the majority of people who collect my work seem to have a preference for one style or another.  Not all of the people who like my rabbits, coyotes and portraits respond to my abstractions.  Conversely, not all of the people who like my abstract work like my other art.  That is just as perplexing to me as the spider web in the pedals of my car. 

Friday, October 7, 2011

Art Cars in Joshua Tree

The best thing about living in Joshua Tree, (besides the beautiful surroundings) is that there is always a cool, art-related activity to experience.  Musicians, circus performers, actors, writers, and visual artists all seem to be drawn here.  Downtown Joshua Tree, The Art Queen, last night:

I only got to stay for a few minutes, as I was headed to life drawing.  But I did want to share a few photos of the art cars for those who didn't get to see the Art Cars in Joshua Tree.  Fun!  If you want to read a nice little article about art cars, click here.  (Thank you, wikipedia.  Oh, and feel free to donate a bit of money to wikipedia, if you are so inclined.)   I didn't expect to be as fascinated by these cars as I was.  It is such a pleasure to see creative expression exploding out of gallery and museum walls.  It kind of makes you want to create an art car, doesn't it?

The studio keeps sucking me in.  Because I like to paint around the edges of my canvases, while my oil paintings are drying, I have to set them on cardboard and lean them against cardboard.  Those of you who don't paint probably aren't aware that oil paintings can take a long time to dry, depending on how thick the paint is, how humid it is, how hot, what colors were used, etc.  Unlike an acrylic painting, which can dry in a matter of minutes with a thin layer of paint, some oil paintings will take up to 6 months or a year to dry.  I don't paint in extremely thick layers (called impasto), but there is still some drying time involved.  With M gone, and the whole house to myself, I have now claimed the living room for part of my studio space.  I like having the works in progress out in the main room, where I can see them while washing dishes, eating, and going about my "other" work.  That way, I can think about them.  I decide if I am fully satisfied, and if I am not satisfied, I can think about why.  It is helpful to have time to really study the work in progress, or even the ones I consider finished.
New paintings, in various stages of completion, drying in the living room.
It remains unseasonably cool and windy here.  I am happy to hear that it is supposed to warm up by Sunday.  I know many of you welcome cooler temperatures.  I do not.  I fear the cold.

This weekend will find me helping to hang a new show at the Red ArrowDeborah Martin has a wonderful new collection of paintings of Wonder Valley.  The gallery crawl is Saturday night from 5 to 8 pm.  Maybe I'll see you there.  If not, have a good one, whatever you do.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Windy, 60 degrees

Today is the first day it has actually felt like fall.  I have long pants AND a sweatshirt on, and I have been drinking hot tea.  (Those of you who know me well won't be surprised by any of this information.)  I am known for being cold, generally speaking.  The wind has actually died down a bit from earlier today, but it's still windy enough that being outside isn't especially pleasant.  I have been awake since 5:30 am.  I thought I needed extra sleep, so I went to bed early last night. 

It might just be one of those curl-up-with-a-good-book kind of days.  I am currently reading a book called Started Early, Took my Dog by Kate Atkinson.  It is a mystery, which I don't usually read.  I checked it out because of the title.  It's a thoroughly enjoyable book.  I was going to find a good quote for you, but if I open the book, I will end up just reading it instead of finishing today's post.  You'll have to take my word for it when I say it's worth the read.  What are you reading right now? 

"Attraction."  Oil on canvas, 20 x 16 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011

Monday, October 3, 2011

Desert skies

Happy Monday, everyone!  Another week has begun.  The desert has been oddly humid, and while rain does not seem imminent, one always hopes for it in this dry land.  Today has begun with more clouds than usual.  We shall wait and see.  If nothing else, the clouds make for magical sunset skies.
Taken right after the sun disappeared last night.
Most of the weekend was spent with paperwork and business.  I was grateful to be in the studio once more yesterday.  It felt like heaven.  Today will be another studio day, once I finish on the computer.  So you know this will be a short post. 

M is still gone, far away.  He's flying airplanes in countries I have never been, seeing things I will never see.  I feel fortunate to live in a time when I have a computer to talk to him with video (when the internet works well enough.)  We celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary on Saturday.  He sent roses.  I sent kisses, because there is no address where I can send things.  The last time I tried to send him something in the mail, it took a month to reach him.  If it weren't for the fuzzy dog, you know things would be getting pretty desperate around here.  Maybe the reason I have painted so many rabbits is because they are the only visitors I get every day, without fail.  The desert has its own way of making me feel welcome.

"Accessory."  Charcoal and pastel, 7 x 6 1/4 inches.  
May you all have a lovely day! 

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


If you spend the night dreaming about being awake all night, is it the same as actually being awake all night?  Because it sure feels like I didn't sleep much.  Aside from the busy dreams, the coyotes were singing at around 2:30 am, which causes a chain reaction.  Pono, who wanted to sing with them, ran from window to window, desperate to join in.  Only problem with that is Pono doesn't know how to sing, so he growled and barked instead.  He did finally remember he had a dog door.  That way, he could go outside and wake up the neighbors, too.  I am certain that the neighbors are glad we have a dog door. 
Please come and play with me.

Last week brought some storms and fun skies to the desert.  I was running around with my new camera, trying to break it in.  Pono was in the bathroom, hiding from the big, bad thunder.   
In the studio news, I have been busy at work on the most recent series of abstractions.  So far, I have about ten of these new paintings.  These paintings, along with my most recent paintings of the desert, will be on display for the Hwy. 62 Art Tours this October.  I will be opening my studio doors only on the second weekend of the tours, October 29th and 30th from 9 to 5 pm.  For those of you who live far away, I will try my best to have the new work up on my website in time for the Art Tours.  There is also going to be a sneak preview of my studio on Friday, the 28th from noon to 5 pm.  I hope you can make it!
"Closeness."  Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The mid-week wonders

"Pretty Please?"  Oil on canvas, 10 x 8 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011
"When you start working, everybody is in your studio - the past, your friends, enemies, the art world, and above all, your own ideas - all are there.  But as you continue painting, they start leaving, one by one, and you are left completely alone.  Then, if you're lucky, even you leave."  ~John Cage

Gearing up for the Open Studio Art Tours next month.  I will be showing the last weekend of October this year: October 29th & 30th from 9 to 5 pm. 

Monday, September 19, 2011

Full Time Art

"Privacy."  Oil on canvas,  24 x 30 inches.  ©Karine Swenson 2011
 What does an artist do all day, anyway?  I mean, it's a life of leisure, isn't it?  You work for yourself, so you don't really have to work if you don't want to, right?  Right.  Riiiiiiiiggghhhhht.  I wish it were like that.  An artist doesn't have a boss to oversee daily activities, or to tell you what the priorities are.  Which has both benefits and drawbacks.  Sometimes, I think it would be helpful if there was an authority figure to tell me,  "this is the most important thing you should be working on right now."  Or maybe if there was an accountant to do my books for me, that would be helpful.  Even if I had a marketing director to design my website, blog, postcard, mailings.  That would be helpful, too.  I could hire people to do all of those things, but I can't afford that right now.  No, this is a real business, where I have to keep an eye on profits, expenses, time management, productivity, and all of those boring, real-world words that you hear in any other business.  Those responsibilities are mine and mine alone.

An artist usually doesn't get paid sick leave.  Paid vacations.  Health benefits.  Workman's comp.  No.  If I take a day off, that day is one more day I am not producing art, or marketing my art, or looking for a gallery, or updating my website.  There isn't another person there, in the "office," finishing that one painting for me.  Or framing that last pastel.  I find it really hard to take days off.  I think anyone who is self-employed will tell you the same thing.  Especially the first years, when the business is just getting going - those are the crucial years of any new business.   I consider the time in my studio to be the most important part of my business, but if I just paint, and ignore all of the other responsibilities, I will never sell art, and consequently, never make money.  So I must get out of the studio, as much as it pains me, and take care of the business end of my work.  Being an artist is no different from any other job, since it embodies both the things I love to do and some of the things I detest.  (Bookkeeping, for one!) 

Why am I telling you all of this?  Well, because I hope to dispel some of the misconceptions about what artists do.  I once overheard someone at an art festival say, "I think I would like to be an artist, because they only have to work on the weekends."  Oh, really?  Really?  She thinks that the day before an art festival, I simply pull about 20 paintings out of my left ear, wave my magic wand to load them into the van, and then work the weekend and go home.  Sleep all week long.  Repeat.  Well, if it were that easy, that would be pretty cool.  Anyone would want a job like that!  But I don't think anything in life is as easy or effortless as we would like it to be.  I often wonder where these ideas about being an artist come from.  Why does the word artist conjure up mythological ideas about a lifestyle that could only exist in a fairy tale?  I will never understand.  If any of you can shed light on this for me, I will be grateful.  

I am not writing about this to complain, or to make anyone feel sorry for me.  I love being an artist.  I love those days when I know I need to go in the studio and spread paint on a surface.  It is a remarkable way to spend my time.  I wouldn't trade my life for another life, even if it meant paid sick leave.  Even if I have to get another job, to help me pay for my life as an artist, I will always consider myself an artist first and foremost.  But it is not a fairy tale, and, try as I might, I still haven't figured out how to pull paintings out of my left ear.  Now, I have to go and take care of some of that "business" stuff.

Have a fantastic week, you dear things! 

Friday, September 16, 2011

Friday, Already?

Roadrunner.  Oil on board, 9 x 12 inches. ©Karine Swenson 2011
 As it turns out, I have nothing to write today.  Have a great weekend!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Desert Morning

This morning, just before sunrise.  A few drops of rain fell on me while I took this.
I am almost adjusted to Pacific Time.  At last.  I still wake up at 2:30, but now I find that I am usually able to go back to sleep.  I've also managed to get back into the studio.  New photos will be coming soon.  I have also re-opened my etsy shop, which was closed while I was out of the country.  I will continue listing new art this week.  Here is a link to a painting I listed right before I left:

The thirsty antelope ground squirrel.
 I can finally say it:  It's good to be home.