AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

"An Act of Contrition"
watercolor & ink on Wallis sanded paper

When I sign an email I include my studio address and contact info. Lately I've been adding a tag line: "Oils, Watercolors, and a Few Artsy Experiments." I'm hoping that "artsy experiments" will explain the variety in the work visitors see in my studio. I've been criticized for that variety: "You'll never get gallery representation, Judy," I've been told. "You need to stick to one voice." But if I ain't happy, the fam damily ain't happy, and what makes me happy is trying new things. So here, for what it's worth, are the two extremes of what I'm working on now. As I say in my brochures, "I paint what I love, and what I love is as varied as the music of the Manhattan Transfer. My mother would have said that I just get bored easily. As the kids say, "Whatever."


Primrose Leaves
Watercolor on Fabriano 300# paper

THOUGHTS DURING A FEBRUARY BLIZZARD

"After the Fall"
by Judy Westergard
graphite on paper
For info on giclee reprints click image

Snow has been falling all day in Minneapolis. Predictions call for snow all night and into Monday. After three balmy days during which we were seduced with spring-like temperatures, winter has returned and this Narnian blizzard draws me to the windows as if staring at snow too thick to see through, could change something. Last night I was transfixed by the moon light on my newly snow-free patio. Tonight I know that beautiful full moon is there behind snow-filled clouds, but the only light higher than my head comes from the dim glow of leaden street lamps. The snow is frustrating, yet it, too, is beautiful. And I'm reminded of winter days over half a century ago, walking home from school with Karen, our pre-adolescent voices recreating a round taught to us by Rita Marie Andrescik, who came to our grade school once a week to teach music:
Snow on, snow In lovely whiteness everywhere. Moonlight is breaking To make the night so fair....
We'd vary the pitch, we'd try different rhythms, change the dynamics ("No! Let's hold that last note for a count of eight and fade!" one of us would insist.) We were oblivious to everything and everyone around us, intent only on recreating the skills we learned with that haunting melody. Tonight I'm still haunted by the beauty of the snow, but even more so by rapidly changing seasons and days that go by too fast. After the fall comes winter, and after winter comes spring. I know it. So why, on this blizzardy night, does spring seem to far away?

COOKIN' WITH MUSHROOMS

"Two Mushrooms"
by Judy Westergard©
graphite on paper
To purchase original, click on image
Giclee prints available through FAA (click here)

Nothing special here...just a favorite recipe.
Dice seeded green pepper, onion, and mushrooms in approximately equal amounts. Saute slowly in olive oil until tender/crisp. Season with sea salt (optional, but it's really the sea salt that makes this a great side dish). Serve immediately or at room temperature. Yum!

CONTEMPLATING STUFF THAT MATTERS

"Artichoke"
graphite on paper
$75
available via PayPal
(click on image)

I continue to think about a question that was tossed out at me not too long ago. "Has your experience with your brain tumor changed your life in any way?" she asked. I answered (and wrote on this blog) that except for no longer abiding the vapid and/or the inane, I'd not noticed much difference. But it's been a few weeks since that conversation; I'm rethinking what I told her, and I think it's due to the botanical drawing classes I'm taking, the focus of which is...well...focus! Instructor Marilyn Garber has us looking very closely at the minutiae that make up our subject matter, subjects that have included a seed pod, a persimmon, mushrooms, an avocado, and now a dieffenbachia. This kind of calm, slow, exacting work is a zen-like experience, and I find myself in awe of the beauty of of what I'm drawing. I know, I know...centuries of artists have written about this, painted it, and created some of the world's greatest music as the result of having been inspired by the natural world. Like them, I've always appreciated nature...but now I see it as a metaphor for something much bigger. I haven't figured all this out yet but I know that somehow it's connected with my brush with my eventual demise. And if I ever do figure it all out, you'll be the first to know! Thanks for reading.