It's Good to be Back!

So good to be back at Oklahoma!

I'm doing my best to get over there in the mornings. Kentucky trip, commissions, getting ready for a show next weekend on Beekman Street, yada, yada, yada. No excuse is good enough. The numbers of horses aren't what I thought should be there but who's counting?

The pre-race meet mood is relaxed. Lots of amiable conversation overheard in the fresh northern air as the ghosts of history welcome back the horses and their people. I've lived a former life here and feel as if I've come home. That's more than I can say about any place else...and this gypsy has traveled all over our beautiful country.

I did a quick plein air sketch, searched out a place where I can set up for multiple days without bothering anyone and, of course, took lots of photos. Please enjoy a few...

Some horses prefer to train themselves,
Sharon

Kentucky Derby 2015

Why do I choke up when I hear the first sounds of  "My Old Kentucky Home?" I'm not from Kentucky and lived there a mere few months back in the mid 80's. I like it, it's a great place to visit but I have no desire to put away my suitcase in the bluegrass.

It's this: I recognize the insurmountable effort it takes to get to that illusive race. It's the holy grail. It's the equalizing dream of the rich and poor. The song represents the culmination of years, and I mean years, of repetitive work and a slew of passionate descriptives: hope, disappointment, promise, despair, determination, anticipation, perseverance, anguish, elation, exhaustion - insert your own word. No one puts in a more gargantuan effort than the horses, race trackers and the owners who finance the fantasies. It's a roller coaster of victories and losses. Highs and lows.

If they get to be the rare and "lucky" few, the emotional toll is stupendous. Imagine having to get through derby day, waiting, fretting, stall walking, trying to keep that runaway freight train of nerves and fears in check. I watch them being interviewed and I smile in empathy. Their faces reveal the contradictory feelings of excitement and dread. Even the old pros breath shallow gulps of air to keep their stomachs from flip flopping.

Phew! It's good to be an artist!

So, this year I didn't tear up when the horses stepped onto the track and the first notes of that very southern song began. Not even a bit of traditional mist. Every derby I've ever watched has been accompanied with embarrassing sniffles and disguising coughs. I don't know if this lack of sentiment represented anything significant. It just was.

Weep no more, my lady,
Sharon

Year in Review 2014

The year was a big improvement. Sales were up and I made some very solid contacts. I didn't get a lot of personal painting accomplished because of several decent commissions. But production hummed. Being the workaholic control freak that I am, learning to delegate was a major realization. Huge. When I let go and trust, the momentum of my ideas seem to continue on smoothly without my constant watch. It's actually quite a relief.

My biggest epiphany occurred when I finally decided which direction to take my artwork. When clarity was finally achieved (and I've floundered with this for a long, long time), I began to make decisions and take action. Very affirming.

The year began with the sale of the building we rented on Beekman St. in the Arts District. We did our best to maintain a gallery presence for the first two years after transplanting to Saratoga Springs. The association was splintered and unfocused and it became an uphill battle as we watched businesses frequently come and go. Truth is, if a business isn't located downtown on Broadway, it's screwed. So, it was a blessing to rent this little house on five wooded acres with a creek, wildlife galore and located a mere mile from the racetrack. Peaceful.

Commissions compensated for the disappointment. After the move, we attempted to get involved with other arts organizations who were starting up or restructuring but to no avail.

But 'nuf of that. Springtime marked the beginning of a few road trips which I live for. The return of the High Hope Steeplechase in Lexington, Kentucky ignited my gypsy blood and the organizers graciously used my artwork for the program cover. I returned home with another nice commission.

Early June gave me the opportunity to participate in my first plein air competition. You probably know about our van catching fire the day before we were scheduled to leave and burning up six of my paintings and lots of supplies. Moving onward (applying grace to all that's faced), we did make it to Finger Lakes and although I was shook up more than I realized and painted some really bad canvases, I knew immediately this was for me. I absolutely love, love, love plein air painting and my skills continue to improve as I practice and study.

The summer race meet at Saratoga was great and an encouraging improvement over the previous year. It was a revelation that I'll always be an equine artist to some degree as my repeat clients visited my booth with the specific intention to purchase more racing artwork. And I acquired new clients. I deserve this: I've spent a lifetime dearly loving, promoting and...defending...this sport.

Fall took me back to Lexington, Kentucky for the Secretariat Festival. More commissions and terrific networking. I exhibited some of my originals in the Thoroughbred Breeders' Museum. Then it was on to Middleburg, Virginia for the Fall Races. Unfortunately the weather was dreadful but that's the chance we take participating in outdoor shows. Regardless, the area is spectacularly beautiful and steeped in history.

My contract with NYRA ends in 2015. I'll stay as long as they'll have me but if they don't renew, I'm prepared to launch into Plan B, plein air painting. Exactly where is yet an unknown. That unknown is the mystery that thrills me.

I'm so thankful to those of you who have followed this blog. I wish all of you the very best in the upcoming New Year 2015.

Gratefully,
Sharon

Kentucky Inspiration

Last September I participated as a vendor at the Secretariat Festival in Paris, Kentucky. It's a funky little town that exists in another time period. No chain hotels, no chain restaurants or any other tiresome mediocrity. We were staying in Georgetown, approximately 17 miles due west.

It was late in the afternoon when we tore down and packed up my exhibit. Route 460 is a very narrow road with no shoulder, just a disconcerting two foot drop from the pavement on both sides. The speed limit is 50 mph as I recall making this a white knuckle ride.

I spotted a band of mares and foals on the left side. The light was golden and glowing. Long shadows stretched as the sun sank low behind the trees. The mares were up close to the fence by the road, unusual as they are very protective of their foals and never compromise safety. I was so excited! Can we turn around and go back?

Fortunately, there was a road perpendicular to where the horses were grazing. Michael managed to pull a daring u-turn and park on the opposite road while I jumped out with my camera. At first the mares were nervous and stood in front of their foals. When they determined I was no threat, they relaxed and shimmered with highlights in the fading light. This is the heavenly manna that artists patiently pray for.

Eventide, oil on canvas, 18"x48"

I named the painting Eventide which represents the subtle period of transition from late afternoon into evening.

While I was clicking away, a lady pulled up alongside Michael and scolded him for parking on the side of the insanely narrow road. He listened patiently, pointed to me and replied, "I'm married to an artist, what can I say?"

Bless our spouses,
Sharon