A Peaceful Nibble -- Oil on Canvas - by Steve Henderson

In an earlier post (Time Off, 6/18/2008) Steve discussed the importance of taking time off, both physically and mentally. It is such a simple concept – don’t think about or work on paintings today! Take a break from marketing! Do something totally different from what you normally do and give your brain a break – and yet it is so difficult to actually implement.

 

We are a society of doers – we do a lot each day, and count the success or lack of success of that day by how many check marks we put on our list. Lots of checks mean we done good.

 

It’s not such a bad concept as long as it is kept in control, and people who do a lot – artists, you are part of this group –need to put some brakes on to this tendency to paint and create and think and perform and inspire. Sometimes, it’s necessary to just NOT do – to drink a cup of tea without musing how the tea pot would look in a still life; to sit with the cat on your lap without considering its form and graceful lines; to take a walk without keeping an eye on the sky and the clouds for their drama effect.

 

From my aspect as manager, I need a break from constantly running through and generating ideas; from plonking my body in front of the computer screen and scrolling through site after site; from brainstorming and bouncing ideas.

 

If you happen to be one person who both paints and markets, then you really do need a break, dear.

 

More on this tomorrow – my particular work day is done, and the rest of my time is devoted to farm chores, interacting with assorted people, and knitting my daughter’s outrageously multi-colored sock.

Close of Day: Oil on Canvas -- 12x16. 

Although this area is readily accessible by foot, getting here isn't necessarily easy, requring a significant amount of uphill walking and then down-the-bank scrambling to eventually arrive. In a way, the amount of work required to finally find oneself in this location reminds me of the process of life itself: living everyday and reaching the goals and dreams that one has set for oneself involves a signficant amount of work -- physical, mental, emotional -- all wrapped about the ability to perseverently plod on.

My wife knits. It's something she does everyday, sometimes for chunks of time in the evening or on a Sunday afternoon, often in bits in pieces as she finds a 15 minute wait on her hands, or 10 minutes snatched between obligations. Although I'm far too sensible to say so aloud, I often think, after she shows me what progress has been made after a couple hours with the needles, "That's it? How do you ever get anything as big as a sweater actually done?"

But she does, because she keeps at it, bit by bit, in increments, perseverently moving on. She has socks, sweaters, hats, all of which have come about because she keeps at it. And not only does she keep at it, but she enjoys the process, or else, as she has told me, she would go nuts making large items one tiny stitch at a time.

Such is life, one minute at a time, one stitch at a time, one brushstroke at a time. At the close of day, we look at what we've done -- sometimes it seems like a lot; sometimes it seems like a little -- but we allow ourself to rest for the evening preparatory to picking up where we left off the next day and continuing to move forward.

Original oil painting by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art

Birch Pathway: Oil on Canvas -- 12x16. 

I walk over this section of our property every day, often several times every day, and each time it looks different. The trees get a little bigger; new shoots crop up; leaves arrive; leaves fall; snow lurks around the grass crevices; the dog drops an old shoe in the middle of the path; a sated cat leaves behind a rodent that no longer wants to play. It is amazing how much change so consistently goes on in a place that doesn't change its physical location.

Original oil painting by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Working Trigger: Oil on Canvas -- 24x36.  Presently available for auction bids through the Western Art Association, www.westernartassociation.org, 509/962-2934.

Here in provincial Dayton, WA, population under 3,000, we have a horse population that probably comes pretty close to our people one. During parades, every other entry involves a horse, and then there are the rodeos, the racing, the 4-H events, and the sheer pleasure riding.

In Working Trigger, we have the working man and the working horse -- the human interacting with his equine companion. I never look at this piece without being drawn to the relationship between the two, to the non-verbal communication that insulates man and horse in a conversation of their own. Original oil painting by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.