#20…Where we consider a leafy glade…

The Leafy Glade             oil         H.Eaton

Finally a good week!  No weird interjections or convoluted animal forms, just a lovely week on the prairie.  The sky is a robust cerulean occasionally dappled with slightly violet mist edges, responding to a fresh wind.  A happy day for those of us who have been working with the reunion of enfant terribles.  Work on the tent is largely finished and some exhibition equipment has arrived, the ear-corn crib is being cleaned and rebuilt.  Happiness reigns!

Industry             oil        H.Eaton

The beavers are busy, fish are swimming, birds are nesting, offspring are frolicking, the light and the temperature are perfect for working outside.   The unicorns and centaurs have something of a truce as they busily poop on the fields.  Poop, manure, is the energy of the land; it allows the soil to work.  Ages of pachyderms and bison, deer, whatever walked the prairie after the glacier retreated pooped so the grasses could grow.

As anachronistic events might go, right now is really good, a lot of the early pleine aire artists have shown up.  Given the present conditions they are quite at ease.  The have transported their easels, paints (pots and tubes), brushes, and some vin ordinaire and some “green mist”.  As they set up and open their box of graphite and charcoal stumps and consider the need to draw, models appear.  Some ladies, still retaining an artistic romanticism, disrobe and sit in leafy glades just at the sight of a box of colors and brushes. It is too nice outside on the sweet grass to discuss narcissism, but worth considering, sometime.

The Waiting                   graphite/charcoal         H.Eaton

All nature, and even enfant terrible artists, get to work; it is early summer, fresh, alive. Anticipation and patience seem allied as nature, and our gathering, proceed; hopeful.