This summer has been one of my best for photographing skies.  Because I’ve been bicycling early and late in the day to avoid the heat, I’ve caught some wonderful light on clouds, especially on the rides along the west edge of Mobile bay.  My newly restored bike has dropped handlebars, so I’ll have to figure out another way to carry my little Canon camera besides wearing it around my neck!  I guess I’ll have to find a bag to wear around my waist.

With only six months till the show at Cole Pratt Gallery in New Orleans opens, I’m busy translating some of these images to paint and feeling pretty inspired to paint these days.

Four of the paintings were created for this show, twelve others were lent by generous collectors all over the country, but mainly in New Orleans and one from Mobile.  When I made the list of works to try to borrow, I thought of paintings I lived with briefly before shipping them off for a show.  My favorites quickly found new homes and were gone. It’s one of the things you get used to, but I wanted to see them again.

Seven of the borrowed paintings continue the painting out onto their frames. There’s an evolution to the frames I’ve used, starting with a simple circle cut out of masonite in the painting, Only Here.   I’ve had lumber specially milled in the flat, plein-air style frame that gives me space to include small trompe l’oeil objects on the grisaille paint.  Having it neatly joined often proved more frustrating than I would have dreamed possible.

Because one very good joiner moved away just before a show, I went through a period of constructing my own painting and frame combination–by sewing them out of  heavy cotton canvas.  (In the show, these are Her Vine Covered Cottage and When Ships Come In.)  I was feeling desperate and happened to look at a tablecloth with a mitered border in my dining room–an idea was born.   I remember comments the curator for a show of Alabama artists at the National Museum for Women in the Arts, Ruth Stevens Appelhof, made when she saw my home-made solution.  She thought I ought to make some really large versions of my paintings.  Maybe one day I will, but seeing the two at the museum reminded me what an awful chore that sewing was, and how imperfect the result.  I’d have to find someone to do it for me next time.

But these frames on the newest paintings are my favorites of all time!  I’ve found two lovely moldings from Florida Frames in Clearwater, who cut and assembled them with wonderful precision. I paint the inner part and then add a gilded edge. The next paintings I make, for a show in March 2012 at Cole Pratt gallery in New Orleans, may have a tortoise-shell finish over the gold leaf.  I forgot I’d done that, but there it was on one of my paintings from 1997.

Probably one of the best things about this experience is that I see how my work has changed since the earliest painting in the show, done in 1996.  I remember where I was and how I felt when I made each of these paintings, but they all share a common thread and hang together well.

“We began discussing it before the oil spill,” she says, “and after that of course it seemed all the more poignant. The spill has begun to cycle off the news now, but we mustn’t forget that the damage, loss and problems are still out there. All of us are greatly affected by the spill, so it seems fitting that we continue to keep it in the forefront of people’s attention. I hope this show will contribute to that.”  The Artwalk reception will be 6-9 p.m. Jan. 14.

I’ll be contributing a painting to the show and probably working up to the last minute to finish a pastel painting that doesn’t yet have a title.  Stay tuned for the image as it emerges!

Leila Hollowell and me at Gallery 54, September 2010

By Thomas B. Harrison, Press-Register

The death of Gallery 54 owner Leila Hollowell on Christmas Eve leaves an enormous void in the Mobile-Baldwin arts community. Many of us fortunate enough to have shared her company cannot believe she is gone.

As friends and customers, my wife Lynn and I spent many delightful afternoons in her cozy, light-filled gallery. Often the conversation, and the laughter, went on long after our purchases had been gift-wrapped.

Leila was on my speed-dial and my short list of 4-star reliable sources for longer than a decade. She was smart, funny and knowledgeable in her grasp of the local arts scene. She knew almost everyone and generally what they were up to. From time to time, she would mention an artist I should meet or an upcoming event that merited coverage, and she always had terrific “backstory” information.

I once suggested that she needed her own Web site. “You could call it ‘Leila’s Corner,’” I said, “a one-stop-shopping place for art, art news and the Other News you won’t get in print or at 5’o’clock on TV.”

She laughed and said Gallery 54 already was Leila’s Corner, and she only shared the Other News with people she trusted. I always left the gallery feeling better than when I arrived. That was her gift, and it explains why she had so many friends.

Bertice McPherson found it difficult to put into words what Leila meant to her.

“She was a friend, a colleague, a taskmaster,” says McPherson, a ceramic artist. “She gave me my first show right out of grad school. Others followed, and I was fortunate to sell my work through her gallery for more than 15 years. We shared many laughs and a few frustrations. I will always remember the fun.”

Billie Goodloe says Leila’s presence “was defined by a quiet strength, fair and balanced judgment, unfailing dedication to work, support of artists and friends, and a delightful sense of humor.”

“Those of us who enjoyed discussions with Leila around the little table in the gallery will miss our friend and colleague very much.”

Lynda Smith Touart says her first thought was the brick in Cathedral Square that bears Leila’s name and the inscription: “Always There for Art.”

“I don’t know who was responsible for that, but it sums her up very well,” she says. “We were friends for some 30 years, and Leila was always there, always ready to help, and often probably too giving in her effort to promote artists. She had a hard time of it, and she will be greatly missed.”

© 2011 al.com. All rights reserved.

The Uncertain Glory, oil on canvas & wood frame, 15.5" x 23.5"

Here’s the text on the frame:

O! How the spring of love resembleth

The uncertain glory of an April day

Which now shows all the beauty of the sun

And by and by a cloud takes all away!

from Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare

So I’ve sent off my donation for the Alabama Shakespeare Festival’s 25th Anniversary exhibit and fundraising auction.  There will be a silent auction sheet at each venue.  The exhibit will travel through Alabama:  Anniston, The Berman Museum: Feb 3, 2011,  Mobile Museum of Art: 10 – 19 Feb, Birmingham, Littlehouse Gallery: 24 Feb – 5 March, Huntsville Museum of Art: 24 – 27 March, and ending at the Montgomery Museum of Art: 31 March – 10 April, 2011 with a cocktail party and auction.

Places East of Here XIX, 2010, oil on canvas, 24" x 24"

“The Gulf has been skating on the edge for many years. We have had continual conflicts between commercial and recreational fishermen fighting over declining populations of red snapper, redfish and mackerel. Our oyster industry, even before the spill, teetered on the brink of complete collapse. The shrimping industry continues to decline…”  to read the rest of the post, see the Gulf Restoration Fund blog at:

http://gulfrestorationfund.org

SOS by Anna Vanover

Here’s the postcard I added to my own collection and here’s the Press-Register story: ‘Postcards from the Gulf’ brings artists together for coastal recovery efforts

A Rare Sighting/to Miss Belle Dreaper, digital composite photo on vintage postcard 3.5″ x 5.5″