Catherine Redmond

The Pond, 2020, Archival Digital Print

I’m always relieved when the media’s looking back at the last year is finished and the year actually begins.  2019 was so productive, so full of new things and new experiences, that I’m looking forward to it continuing.  Just adjusting my point of view changes things.  I rarely think to walk to the other side of my pond.  Usually I think about it in the summer when it is a lush tangle of plants and thick undergrowth.  So I don’t bother.  But, yesterday I took advantage of the frozen growth and the felled dried plants and decided to walk around the pond to look across at my homestead.  Just seeing it from a few yards away at a new angle was so pleasant.  How beautifully sited it is!

The pond is no longer frozen for this interlude before the deep cold returns.  The Solstice has been crossed and now the days will start to get longer. Of course I dream for spring.

Begonia Edge, 2019, Archival Digital Print

An accidental find, the edge between the Begonia leaf and the window shutter makes me shiver. I’m in my first week of my sabbatical and relishing the months of uninterrupted studio time ahead of me.  Being able to sleep late is such pleasure.  Having my mind de-cluttered of everything but my work and my life on the homestead.  Almost too good to be real.  I imagined painting the house pale pink yesterday with cream shutters and trim.  My fancies are tickling me now even in close to the darkest day of the year.

The Cornfield, 2019, Archival Digital Print

It was a long slog through last week.

Deep snow, unable to get out of the driveway to get to the train

I missed school on Monday,

I was supposed to chair a panel for Senior Survey, and

My reliable plowman didn’t get my messages

On it went, one thing after another.

But what there was

Was my favorite cornfield

Its orderly geometry penciled in the snow.

Three Girls Ready for Dreaming, 2019, Archival Digital Print

Night comes early now and the hens go to roost sooner now as the days are shortening and the cold is here.  I added a fresh bale of straw to the coop floor the other day for extra warmth. The girls started singing to themselves.

The light is so tender in November, the values very close.  I’m thinking of Morandi’s strange landscapes, overcast light, and the shades of grey-blue, dun, dull ochre and greyed green.

Rainy Afternoon, 2019, Archival Digital Print

A dark and dismal day, the rain was continual.

It gave me cause to sit by the fireplace and

listen

and listen;

Even the ashes have another life

in the hens’ dustbath bin.

Zip File, 7 ½” x 5 ½”, Gouache on Rag

My work, two gouaches, will be included in the Pratt-in-Venice Anniversary Exhibition, a program where I ran the Painting Program for three summers.

PRATT IN VENICE 35TH ANNIVERSARY EXHIBITION AND CELEBRATION

Steuben Gallery, Steuben Hall, First Floor, Brooklyn Campus

October 21 – November 1, 2019

Dinnertime, 2019, Archival Digital Print

The flock is molting now so added protein is important. Yesterday it was warm scrambled eggs with herbs, salmon, and 8-grain wheat toast. They gathered together in the communal meal, making soft happy sounds.

Nicky, the feral cat I’m hoping to tame, got eggs too. They are so plentiful now and such a perfect protein that the hens actually give back more than they get consume.

I repeat myself, but the pleasure of  being part of the land in the way living here has given me is so pleasurable.  I am grateful.

Descent, preparatory drawing, Charcoal on Canvas, 2019

This canvas was started as a way of thinking about the state of our country at present.  The camera shot it from the side, so it looks skewed, just as our suffering under Trump is.  Now we have abandoned the Kurds, our loyal allies.  Never have I seen a more evil nor destructive being in the Oval Office.  It assures me that Evil exists in the world and that it is manifest in humans who ruin and sully everything and everyone it touches.