The art of women is integral to our collective history. Women have an illustrious pedigree as models - but not nearly what they deserve as art creators. In my lifetime there has been an effort to correct this inequality, but as with most women's rights, crediting our accomplishments has been an uphill battle. I placed this 11" x 14" oil painting, In the Cool Blue of the Day, in the online "Summer Small Works" exhibit hosted by the National Association of Women Artists (NAWA) A percentage of all sales supports this essential organization. SOLD! Packed it up and sent it on to its new home in New York. An extra special sale, since it helps support and promote all women artists. NAWA selects a member artist to profile periodically, online and on social media. My work was featured in an online piece in June, a snippet of which is shown here. Thank you, NAWA, for promoting a new member! Wondering where I am with the 24" square egret painting? Sometimes you need to step away, let a painting breathe. I left it on the easel at the end of April. In early June, when I came back to it, there were changes in the air. I woke up the next morning from a dream, and knew what I had to do. I sanded down the two flying birds and sketched in a much larger egret, taking off into the sky. It not only created a much-needed focal point, but provided an additional aura of mystery. Scroll through to see the evolution. Once the large bird was added, the bending girl feeding the birds lost her place in the narrative. I took a deep breath and simply painted her out! Now there's an egret lifting off from the grasses, which brings your eye around and lends perspective. Guess it's time to get back to work on that complicated chair. Actually, this is an unusually meditative painting, with the soft, glowing sky, the beach, the elegant white birds, and the serene young woman looking very much at home in her own skin. Summer dreams. Summer also brings to mind all the large water pieces I've created over the years in pastel. The originals are mostly sold, but if you love the sea, think about one of my archival limited edition prints. This is "Water I", from The Elements. You can live with summertime all year round! https://bit.ly/sign-up-LHPost I love sharing, so please give this link to others - artists, collectors, curators, galleries, actually anyone who loves art and wants to learn more about the process. Thank you for following me along on my progress in the studio. I hope the egret painting will be finished by the time my next newsletter comes around. Cheers!

I introduced the term "sky blue pink" last month, when I began working on this painting. It's one of those concepts that is hard to describe. Even more difficult is talking about how to create it. So today I'll make it easy. Don't you just love visual explanations? I wrote in my last post, I'll under-paint the whole sky in brilliant red, layering ultraviolet, ochre, cobalt, phthalo turquoise and pale yellow on top. That crimson glowing through the layers infuses the sky with the imminent sense of a dawning sun. It's so much easier to just SHOW you. There was a pivotal point in this painting when it was impossible to proceed any further without turning the sky that "sky blue pink" I had in my head. It's still a bit more dramatic than my vision, or the photograph I showed in my previous post. More sunset than dawn. Perhaps I'll change it... or not. Depends on how everything else develops. Once I finish blocking in the bottom half with underpainting, I'll work on the egrets. I have always loved drawing and painting birds. White birds are especially challenging, since white is never truly white. Of course, whenever I feel overwhelmed by the nuances of blue-white, pink-white, golden-white, gray-white... I just look at Sargent. That man was a master of shades of white. If birds are close to your heart, I've gathered together some of my recent works here that feature birds. I offer these as signed, archival prints that can be ordered online, and there are also some originals available. Email me with any questions. Want to come along on this journey, as I talk about the progress and process of my art? Sign up for my occasional newsletters and show notifications. And please follow me on Facebook and Instagram, and share my posts.

It's always fun to announce good news. My work is featured in the coming issue of Juniper Rag, a beautiful visual arts and lifestyle magazine based in New England. In addition, the Winter 2022 issue of the magazine Rochester Review published a huge photograph of me with my eleven-foot-wide painting The Procession of Hope and Feathers. And I was just accepted for juried membership into the National Association of Women Artists. Looking ahead, I'm beginning a new series of 24" square paintings. Loving the square format! When I was a child, I lived near the coast of Massachusetts, just where it meets Rhode Island. The light is different when you're by the sea. My mother always called the color of the sky at dawn "sky blue pink", an accurate description if I've ever heard one. It's a glowing blend of pale blue, violet, aqua, pink, and salmon. To recreate it, I under-paint the whole sky in brilliant red, layering ultraviolet, ochre, cobalt, phthalo turquoise and pale yellow on top. That crimson glowing through the layers infuses the sky with the imminent sense of a dawning sun. Now that Fledgling is done, it's time to start a new painting. I have prepared a 24-inch-square wood panel with this sketch. I played around for weeks with the composition. The painted Caribbean wooden chair, carved with birds, is the only part remaining from my original concept. Egrets came and went, and these are the ones that stayed with me. Four or five different women sat in that chair until I found Lauren, the right one. The bending girl feeding the birds was my final addition. So much will change again. The paint will show me the way. Egrets are symbolic of purity, strength, balance, concentration, longevity, and spirituality. Because they enjoy solitude, their spirit also represents freedom and independence. Their undulating necks, luminous wings and origami shapes against the sky are a graceful, meaningful addition to my avian repertoire. I look forward, too, to watching my brush move along with the texture and color of the sand, the beach grasses, the waves, that amazing chair, and the hairy islets across the water. And making the women come alive. I want more people who love my work to have the opportunity to own it. So much of my work holds memories of the sea. Do you remember my pastel Float, the six-panel (yep, that's called a sextych!) depiction of a whirlpool? I have made museum quality prints - like the originals, full of texture and vibrant color - available in limited editions at affordable prices. You can have the ocean with you all year-round with a set of Float - or maybe just a pair from the set, if your space is limited. Make your bedroom into your own private beach house - that's what one Manhattan couple did by purchasing an entire set. To display multiple panels, I often suggest white wood museum frames - they give the illusion of floating over a reef. Do you know that my original works can start as low as $500? If you are interested in a painting, pastel or monotype on my website, please feel free to email me for a price. Or stop by R. Michelson Galleries in Northampton, MA - they maintain a changing selection of my work, both on display and archived. Please share my work with others. You can forward this link to a friend, curator, or art gallery or sign someone up here to receive my very occasional e-newsletters.

This recent series of 16" square oil paintings of birds and women by the sea is complete, at number six. Working small has been like taking a breath of air, after more than five years of painting in large - and ever larger - scale. Here's a snapshot off my easel. In Across the Sea of Time I depicted a Wood Stork. This piece, Fledgling, features Painted Storks. All storks are perceived as avatars of good fortune and abundance in mythology and culture. Although a bit clumsy on land, these huge birds glide in flight, soaring effortlessly through the air. A flock of storks is called a phalanx. John Milton wrote in Paradise Lost: Anon they move In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders. Of course, storks are quite silent. No bird calls (or flutes). Below is the series of six paintings, all together. Storks, seagulls, ring-necked magpies, flamingos and pelicans. Do email me if one of these paintings interests you, and I can let you know if it is available. At 24" square, I am moving (a little) larger in scale again with my next painting. Here are some of the elements, from recent travels, that I'm playing with in early sketches. A wooden chair, carved and painted island-style. A rocky, odd-shaped islet. Egrets! The egret is patient, peaceful and calm. It stands for autonomy, persistence, purity, and longevity. We could all learn from the egret how to stand still, quiet and watchful, applying restraint until the perfect situation reveals itself. If an artist had to pick a spirit animal, the egret would be an ideal choice. I'm looking forward to this new project, and I'm happy to have you along on my journey. Please visit my website, and feel free to share my e-newsletters with friends, family, colleagues, or on social media. Anyone can sign up here to get on my list. I only send out emails when I have some progress to share, maybe 6 or 7 times a year.

In Florida a few weeks ago, I watched a great blue heron poised in a pond, one leg up, neck outstretched, waiting in perfect stillness for a fish to swim by. Against an impossibly blue sky, the origami shape of a white egret barely moved a feather as it glided across the horizon. Wings spread wide, a steely anhinga perched on a pier for hours, as quiet as a sculpture. I love the beauty, stillness and serenity of the birds. The women and girls in my latest works are very self-contained, serene, at home in their environment, much like the birds circling overhead. On my easel today is the sixth in this new series of 16" x 16" oil paintings. Two storks have taken flight. The Costa Rican sky is turning a deep, unexpected teal. A young girl gently protects a fledgling bird in her hands, as its mother watches. I have just begun to block in the water. This painting should be finished this month, if all goes according to plan. A new series of 24"-square wood panels now awaits my brush. Images, ideas and stories are already percolating. I've chronicled the progress of The Procession of Hope and Feathers in this blog for over a year. It spent a month and a half on the Mezzanine of R. Michelson Galleries in Northampton, MA. Now it will get a bit more paint, varnishing, and my signature - and then I can call it done. I look forward to it leaving my studio and finding an appropriate new home. At 132" x 68", it is the largest piece I have ever completed. Another big project this year was the development of a portfolio of archival fine art prints. I worked with my longtime photographer and friend Stephen Petegorsky for months, as we created limited edition, museum quality prints of selected work spanning thirty years. Many of the originals reside in private art collections, and it was fun and illuminating to revisit the images. Some of these new prints have already found homes coast to coast. My updated website now includes the new square paintings and the ability to purchase my fine art prints directly online. I also took some time to create images of my paintings and prints hanging in rooms, so you could visualize my art in the real world - or in your own home. Please do take a few minutes to browse through the site. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for following my work. I wish you a happy, healthy and productive New Year. Cheers! Linda

"Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” ~ Terry Tempest Williams, from "When Women Were Birds" "The Procession of Hope and Feathers" is now hanging on the mezzanine of R. Michelson Galleries in Northampton, MA - walk in the door and you can't miss it. It's eleven feet wide! .The title of this painting was inspired by a poem by Emily Dickinson, who spent her life in Amherst, Massachusetts - just a few miles from where I live. The enormous stretcher - 132" x 68" - was built by Twin Brooks in Maine. It was stretched (with my nervous assistance) by R. Michelson Galleries' master framer, Don Robinson. It will be on display at the gallery until sometime in December, so please stop by and view The Procession of Hope and Feathers while you have the chance. Why feathers? Each of the characters in this painting has at least one winged companion. From a pink flamingo, a feathered mask, a seagull ruffled by the breeze, a landing parrot and a racing raven to a majestic winged helmet and a beaked Venetian plague doctor's mask, these avian avatars are all part of the narrative. And here is the Emily Dickinson poem: “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

There is something calming and predictable about a square. Right angles, equal sides. In a painting, the composition can be... well... very composed. As I begin my sixth 16" square painting in this series, I'm finding the concept of working within a square easier. Here it is at the very beginning. I've come back to storks. I used one in my first painting in this series, Across the Sea of Time. Storks are silent and powerful. They can make some rudimentary sounds, but don’t do so often. They say what’s needed in the way they fly or through subtle body language. When a Stork circles you in a dream, you’ll see the restoration of calm and self-confidence. An old folktale claims the spirit of unborn children wait in bodies of water where storks frequent. So, in passing, the stork could gently lift the child and transport it home safely. I decided to start by painting the birds. I usually start with the sky, since it defines the negative areas. This sky will be fairly complex, lots of rosy clouds and layers of color. Those hairy, rounded islands of Costa Rica will be silhouetted against the sky.

Creating archival prints from my work has been a learning experience. I worked closely with my long-time photographer, Stephen Petegorsky, as he printed my images. The result, even to my super-critical eye, is breathtaking color and a tactile quality that makes you feel like pastel dust or fresh paint will come off on your hand if you touch it. (No, of course it won't!) Also, delving back into a storehouse of images, some of which I haven't seen in years, was pretty eye-opening. I have always worked in series. One leads to another, and you never know where they will take you. When deciding which of hundreds of paintings and pastels I would select to offer as print editions, I actually had to divide them up into sections. See below: Of course, there is always some overlap. As my figures leapt into the sky, dove into the sea, communed with birds and swam with fish, some of them also straddled my named sections. How do you picture what these prints will look like in your own home? Each print I offer is illustrated with one or more photographs of a framed version hanging in a room. Some rooms are easy to relate to, while others are spectacular modern beach houses. If you live in the latter, maybe I can move in with you! Now that my site is up and working smoothly, it's time for me to return to painting. I have one on the easel now, another Costa Rica setting with storks. Can't wait to work on it! You'll have to wait a bit to see the progress, until my next post.

This is Soliloquy. The fifth in my series of 16" square oil paintings. The setting is still Guanacaste, Costa Rica, loosely based on a photo I took while sailing into the sunset. The exotic birds are flamingos. (How often do you see a flamingo fly? Usually they seem to spend their time wading.) My imagination was captured by this non-traditional harlequin costume. My model Amanda (who looks somewhat gender-neutral in this painting) is dressed in ruffles, patterns, flounces and tattoos. This is where it began. There is another series I did that is reminiscent of this imagery. This is Harlequin Dancers, a pastel on paper. Next is Carousel Rider, oil on wood. And all the striped tents and carousels in many of my recent paintings are related to this new one. Maybe Soliloquy isn't something completely different after all.

There is a meditative quality to this painting. The warmth of the sunlight, the soaring birds, the billowy clouds, the dancer's pose. There are now four paintings in this series. Three of the four are set on the Guanacaste coast of Costa Rica. Birds play a role in all of the paintings. I have just sketched out the fifth one on the same size panel: 16" square. It's fascinating to see the contrast in scale between this series and "The Procession of Hope and Feathers", still on my studio wall. The photo above was taken in my studio when "Dance of the Pelicans" was about one-quarter of the way along. I do love painting life-size figures, works so big that you feel - with a bit of magic - you can walk right into the canvas. But this small square format is complex and intriguing - how much of a narrative can I fit in 16" square? Take one off the easel, replace it with a new project! This one is very dreamlike. The tattooed woman is wearing a harlequin costume. Pink flamingos and clouds of seabirds fly overhead. There will be a brilliant sunset. All in a 16" square. And, once again, we are in Costa Rica. Pura vida.