I need a plan

Posted on June 20th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

I need a plan while hoping the Giant doesn’t climb down that beanstalk, 2019, Archival Digital Print

It dawned on me last week that what makes The Homestead magical, or put another way, what my land elicits in me, is the sense of magic and wonder I felt when I was six or seven. It is the gift this place gives me. Everywhere I walk, explore, see, I make finds I hadn’t expected.  It’s quite preposterous, I know, and I don’t expect anyone to believe me though anyone who has walked it when visiting feels it, too.

The beanstalk in this photo (actually a Wild Grape Vine) is an example.  It is growing in the lush green of the ravine behind the dog pen.  It is a steep drop down there where Deer, Fox, Raccoons and Nicky, the feral cat, run and travel. The Wild Turkeys, too.  The pond is lower and to the right of this photo so this area teems all year ’round with comings and goings.  There is a density here as well, so every day there is a new surprise, a new animal, a new sound, a new flower.

It isn’t a stretch to think that one dusky evening, I’ll be out there with the dogs and hear what I first think is thunder, the dogs will look up and stand perfectly still, my eyes will follow as the ground starts to shake and we’ll see those huge hairy legs start to descend from high above. I’ll open the gate and we’ll run like hell into the house.

A Good Week

Posted on June 7th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Abundance, June, 2019, Archival Digital Print

Zac, Zip, Jerry, and Ruthie enjoy a pan of water, bathing and drinking. There is lavish green everywhere, all shades and variants from pale yellowish to deep blue.  June is the best month.  Everything on the homestead feels harmonious and lavish, generous and abundant.

I marvel at my good fortune to have found my magical spot.  Earlier in the week I picked up a tiny fawn who was lying out under a tree alone.  I put her back down aware that her mother would soon return for her and that I was violating Nature’s plan.  But the experience was memorable and a gift to me.  I took care of four motherless Robin hatchlings and they grew and fledged earlier in the week so all in all, it was a week of gifts and pleasures.

My linocut Nancy portfolio is completed as well.  It was a year of work, hundreds of hours.  Ten prints which I may extend to twelve these interest me so much.  Then to edition them.

 

 

Toward June

Posted on May 18th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

The Tulips Over, 2019, Archival Digital Print

I like all the value changes within this image I found yesterday walking back from the studio. Those decapitated stems were defiant having fulfilled their bulbs’ spring mission. As they leave the stage the Lilies-of-the-Valley come on board.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The First Lilies-of-the-Valley, 2019, Archival Digital Print

And thus we have the start to summer

 

Photography’s Grand Place

Posted on May 1st 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Bridge in the Mist, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The magic and miracle of photography, the camera, the eye into reality, never fails to intrigue me. It introduces all the questions about reality, position, place, and the documentation of time that Painting can only hint at.

As I frequently address, all photographs by their nature are in our history, situated absolutely in the past. Photography automatically arouses nostalgia that painting cannot do without seeming maudlin, cloying or merely illustrative.  The photograph holds this unique place as no other art form can.  I wonder why this feature is so rarely addressed.

 

The Great Lady of Paris, France, the World

Posted on April 17th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

April, The Hudson, 2019, Archival Digital Print

There is gloom over the loss of Notre Dame. These gifts of civilization stand, we assume their presence will continue until the end of time.  But, it is gone, or so badly damaged that even though they may rebuild the work and give us a look alike, it will not be the fruit of 800 years nor the gift of so many artisans and generations through time.

It is a heartache unlike those for people or pets we loved. This is different. What it stands for is deeper, belonging beyond the personal.  As we watched the horrific scene, the reportage was hard to hear, these rip n’ read ignorant broadcasters who commented on the flames with the same tone they would for a cooking event.  That in itself, spoke to the loss of cultural understanding, comprehension of history, and in a time of Trump it coincided with the devastation of values the right-wing brings us.  Science, Research, all under attack.  The antivaxxer nitwits who would rather have their children die than believe what has been shown efficacious to their health.  Idiots who think that global warming is a plot.  And the Great Lady of Paris turns to cinders.  Centuries in the building and destroyed in minutes — like what is happening in the US as the right wing barbarians sack what we build and treasure.  A gloomy time.

 

The Day’s Rhythm

Posted on April 14th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Waiting for the First Train, Fog, 2019, Archival Digital Print

When it’s cold enough and moist enough but not yet freezing, this is how it looks at the Hudson train station waiting for the first train from Albany on its way to New York.  We are a small band of commuters who nod to each other from our sleep filled minds.  We all head to the Quiet Car so we can return to our interrupted dreams until Penn Station.

 

Congruity of Sight

Posted on March 25th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Thinking of Dürer, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The coalescence of the history of drawing and painting and our world at present reassures us of the continuity of the artist’s vision and its ability to show us what he sees.

 

Drawing Photography Painting

Posted on March 13th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Snow Drawing with Twig, 2019, Archival Digital Print

Snow Drawing with Twig, 2, 2019, Archival Digital Print

 

The two photographs are part of my continued interest in images which merge drawing, photography and painting into one seamless medium which emphasizes the experience of seeing over the experience of naming.

Images and Ideas

Posted on February 25th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Two Pines in the Snow, 2019, Archival Digital Print

It was a full long weekend of work. Other than errands and chores, the days were free to focus on the work. Seeing an image emerge from the material has magic. That a mere pencil, or a cut in a surface, or a move of the brush, or a keystroke can move in such a way to produce something alive has been part of us since we were in the cave. To be an artist is to continue that thread of being, a privilege and a burden.

 

Although many feel helpless in the face of this new darkness abroad the country, the vile racism and violence, it remains up to us to keep making our images.  Artists keep the light of humanity alive and though it may not seem it because we feel we should be doing something more explicitly activist, more directly effecting the social situation, just that we are giving back our gift in the face of this evil serves the Good.

 

 

 

Moving toward March

Posted on February 18th 2019 by Catherine Redmond

Cold Sun, 2019, Archival Digital Print

Just back from feeding the flock.  It is a lesson to watch these marvelous birds and learn their ways and observe their different personalities.  TickTock remains wary of me, but we are now accustomed to each other and he understands the gist of what I say.  When I tell him to get the girls, he rounds them up and brings them into the coop like a dutiful herding boy. And…

She’s on her way.   Yes, in a rag sweater, silk underwear, a heavy coat and scarf, mittens and arctic boots, but Spring is trudging closer and will be on scene soon.  This photo was taken two weeks ago and already things have markedly changed and the slight softened and warmed in spite of snow storms and freezing temps.