This is my remedy for an artist in the winter: fingerless mitts so you still can make details with your brushes, and a cup of hot cocoa during a painting break.
This pattern is from Interweave Knits Spring 2006. These are my first mitts ever. The thumb gusset was much easier than I expected. Made a few adjustments for my own comfort. Since I have now many 7/8 sleeves, I made them longer to cover my wrists. I love how they look with the self-striping/shading yarn.
Making my own accessories is a journey that started with making sweaters fitting with my own style of clothes, and in the colors I wanted. Not in my wildest dreams did I realize I could use this skill to help others. But that I’ll tell you in another blog post ( the story of the purses, and the story of the hats).
Pastel, 11 x 15 inch, St Germain
All my pastels and pastel pencils were laying scattered on the coffee table for several weeks. For an hour in the afternoon the sun would shine into the living room. Only then I would work on this small pastel on watercolor paper. If I can’t be sure of my colors and intensity, I delay painting.
I made an under painting with the watercolor medium, before I put my pastels on top. Usually I go with gusto and work and work on a painting till it is largely done. Slowing down my pace felt like “hibernating”, but it did give me time to journal why I choose a small scene with so many details.
The mystery of the snowpatch unfurled itself when I started thinking about the actual location where I took the pic for the painting. Since I grew up in Holland, life does not seem complete if there is no wintertime. Now I live in California, whenever the snow level in the mountains drops to 4000 feet, we make plans to spend a day in the snow.
In the past when our kids were little, we used to go up to that area in the summer as well as in the winter. We discovered an area where not too many vacationers would go, because this long road was unpaved. Our kids called it the “lumpy bumpy road” and made up songs about it while our Suburban would hobble on the bumps of the road.
In the summer we would collect and dry wild flowers we found along the way, and hiked as far as their little legs would carry them. In the winter, this road would be closed off for cars. We then hiked and sled on this snowy road and inhale the crisp air of this incredible serene and breathtaking scenery.
The Snowpatch is somewhere on this road, where the bank of a small stream is lighted by the sun, with overhanging branches as the focal point. This small scene tells about the seasons: dried up grass from the summer, branches stripped from leaves from leaves in the fall, all blanketed by the mysteriousness of the snow in the winter.
I cannot part with original yet, but you may write me for a purchase of a print (canvas- or smooth paper).