Heirloom Pumpkin Trio
6 in. x 6 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
$100 unframed (no frame necessary)
A fellow gardener grew a few heirloom pumpkin varieties last fall and had these big, blocky specimens posing in a perfect little grouping on the sideboard in her kitchen. The pinky-orange one is an Indian Doll pumpkin and the others were a more traditional orange variety. The interesting ribs and chunky textures were fun to paint.
Plum Island Sand Dunes
8 in. x 8 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
$220 unframed
I can't stop painting Plum Island. Most of the island is protected land and part of the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. Venturing through Newburyport, MA and out to the island brings you into a wonderland filled with songbirds and seabirds, rabbits, coyotes, horseshoe crabs and wild, salt-tolerant vegetation of all kinds. In this painting, I'm capturing a glimpse of the sun-kissed sand dunes and beach grass just uphill from the high tide line. Can you smell the salt and feel the hot sun on your shoulders? This piece welcomes you to heady, salty, coastal New England, where, 70 miles of coastline south of here, Pilgrim feet waded ashore and here praised God for the wild land that promised a free future.
10 in. x 10 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
$250 Framed
My fellow artist friend Pam of @arthavenstudios picked a whole bowlful of strawberries last June and had the audacity to post them on social media. Her photo was so delicious I told her she ought to consider using it as a reference for art. She is an accomplished print maker and I could envision a beautiful print of speckled strawberries done in her lovely, organic style. She, instead, suggested I use her photo for a painting, and she might think about a print. It was deal, I said, and this became by studio work-in-progress that I'd fiddle with over a busy summer as time permitted. I still hope to see Pam's interpretation of her beautiful strawberries; maybe we could show our pieces side by side some time in the future. I hope you like this one!
Garden Radishes ~SOLD Somebody liked this!
6 in. x 6 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
This was a fun and and challenging little still life of fresh radishes dancing across a surface with their wonderful green stems and leaves trailing behind them. Painting this reminded me of walking barefoot in the garden as a kid and pulling a fresh, crispy, red radish from the rows, wiping the dirt off on the grass and crunching into it right there where I stood. I love their peppery bite and crisp juiciness. The reference for this piece was a photo by Fiona of @still.shapes who shared it for the painting pleasure of others. The colors in the shadows were particularly delicious to paint.
OMG Bacon!
8 in. x 10 in., acrylic on canvas
$160 unframed
Well, that's what everybody said who saw this painting in progress. What can I say? Who doesn't want their art collection to reflect the things they love most? I mean, I love landscapes and still life pieces of pretty fruits and veggies and even donuts. But is there really anything any more beautiful than a crispy slice of pork belly, glistening with hot, bubbly fat? The fork in the second photo is a real fork from my kitchen, and sorry, it doesn't come with the painting, but it sure makes it irresistibly lifelike.
The Pink House ~SOLD Somebody liked this!
12 in. x 12 in., acrylic on cradled panel
It's a colorful, abandoned house on the edge of the salt marsh in Newburport, MA on the road going out to Plum Island, and a landmark to multitudes of people who live in or visit the area. It hasn't been lived in for decades, and a little while back the local government wanted to pull it down. The people of Newburyport responded immediately in protest and moved to save The Pink House. It's been photographed, painted, drawn, cartooned and become a fixture, despite its deteriorating roof, siding and paint. Here's my hot, hazy, high summer portrait of the familiar, glowing, retro manse basking in sun amid the long, overgrown grasses and shrubs, still tethered to an old utility pole high in the salty air.
Big Sky at Chapman's Landing
11 in. x 14 in., acrylic on cradled wood panel
A spring trip through Stratham, NH when the new grasses were green green green brought us by Chapman's Landing, a little salt marsh pull-off, boat launch and estuary area where the Squamscott River joins Great Bay at the New Hampshire seacoast. This piece is painted on a cradled gessoed wood panel, which was great fun, since the paint moves across the surface with little drag compared to canvas. I very much enjoyed the brushy marks I was able to make and decided I liked the look of leaving some marks a little raw with the warm brown underpainting peeking through.
8 in. x 10 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
When you're stomping around on the southern end of Plum Island in Massachusetts, you look across Plum Island Sound and you see a little community dotting a couple of hills and wonder what's over there. Well, upon taking a drive up and over and down and around, you find out that it's coastal Ipswich that's over there, that's what. Topping a little rise, the road on Great Neck rolls down the hill and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean here, with late afternoon clouds building in the moody, hazy summer sky.
6 in. x 6 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
All I'm saying is that, one day, while leaving Tilton House of Pizza, there, on the ramp going down to the sidewalk, there lay this massive white mushroom slice. It was kind of Alice-In-Wonderland wonky and curvy and velvety, and, frankly, just plain HUGE. I knew it hadn't launched itself off the surface of a to-go pizza, because it very obviously hadn't been touched by the ovens; no, this thick, supple slice was fresh produce. My best guess is that it very briefly graced the top of a salad, but, gravity being what it is, claimed it as its owner trundled down the ramp to their car. I whipped out my phone, irresistibly drawn. My husband asked me, "Are you taking a picture of that mushroom?" Of course I was. How could I not? I believe the checked backdrop elevates this mushroom far above the non-slip-grip mat surface the wooden ramp on which the subject actually sat. Hail, big mushroom slice.
Morning Ebb Tide at Wells
14 in. x 18 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
$450 unframed
I started with a hot magenta underpainting to warm up all the blues that would lie on top, and if you take a moment to notice, you can see it peeking through here and there and coming through layers deliberately left thin. This one was a fun study in drastic contrasts; darkest darks and lightest lights close together with just two or three shades in between. And dropping those white sparkly bits in? Nothing like it. I'll admit, it was an utter joy to paint, almost as sweet as having been there on an anniversary trip. This is just before 8 a.m. on a late May morning at Wells Beach, Maine. A hot Dunkins coffee may have been involved in the enjoyment of this moment.
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Laid, Hatched, Grown, Flown (Quadriptych)
24 in. x 27 in., 4 panels, acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
8 in. x 8 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
Cicada Study
5 in. x 7 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
6 in. x 6 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
It was summer and my neighbor a few houses down the street pulled over in her car as I was working outside in my flower beds. Tragedy of tragedies, she had been weeding her extensive gardens and accidentally ripped out an unsuspecting Morning Glory vine. She had plenty more, but hated to see this one unfortunate vine go to waste. Could she interest me in said vine, since it would look so nice climbing up my lamp post? When I heard that this particular Morning Glory had been part of a plant belonging to a past relative and that she'd kept it going all this time, well, of course I couldn't say no. Off home she went, and shortly returned with the business end of the poor, withered thing wading in some water in a Solo cup. I took it and unceremoniously stabbed it into the ground near the lamp post, and off my neighbor went, feeling better that she'd at least tried to atone for her involuntary Morning Glory slaughter. I'm happy to say that it perked up, found the lamp post and the twine I'd offered it for grabbing, and by midsummer it had covered the entire post and trumpeted its presence with dozens of bright white blossoms. And here they are, with golden heliopsis photobombing in the background.
Painted from reference shots I took on our Newburyport, Massachusetts trip last summer. We spend half a day on the beach down at the extreme southern point of Plum Island in the National Wildlife Refuge area. The dunes rise high in some spots and the abundant salt-tolerant grasses line the area between the preserve and the shoreline. It's so beautiful there. In painting this piece, it was an interesting observation, when mixing colors, that the difference between hot sunshine and cool shade is often a lot more dramatic than we often think they are. The dark violets of the shady side of the path up the dune are quite dark in comparison with the warm, bright sunlit sand right next to it, with very few gradual midtones. Before laying down my first strokes, however, I warmed up the whole canvas with a thick coat of bright magenta pink, which you can see peeking through the areas where the heat of the sand and grasses meet the August sky.
A fellow gardener grew these great hybrid pumpkins with deep ribs, yellow flecks, and a pinkish-orange hue. I saw these large, heavy pumpkins in her kitchen and got a few shots so I could paint them later. Blending the pink and orange to get that unique hue just right was a ton of fun.
6 in. x 6 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
If I were an old Maine ahtist, I'd prob'ly tell ya that it's no use in askin' 'bout the deep meanin' of this piece o' ahtwork. Seems ta me that all you need ta know is right thayah in the title. 'Cause I was thayah. An' let me tell ya... it was wintah. An' it were damn cold.
We Have Seen
16 in. x 20 in., acrylic and metallic paint on traditional-depth canvas
Prints of this piece are available at my online print shop:
https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/shawne/
This supernaturalist piece is based on the opening passage of the epistle of 1 John 1:1-3,* which uses the Greek word ἑωράκαμεν three times: we have seen. Pronounced "heōrakamen," you can see this word in the Greek lettering in the painting. I painted this piece on a black canvas, but the bronze and copper wash over the lettering creates a coppery shine that lights up the black. I used a style reminiscent of iconography, with the aim of illuminating the the repeated insistence that John and the other disciples of Jesus had actually seen Jesus the Christ after His resurrection, had actually touched and handled Him and that the gospel they poured their lives out for wasn't second-hand information or hearsay or a metaphorical concept or an esoteric spiritual-sounding idea. The plain acrylic paints keep the outstretched arm of Christ organic and physical on the material plane, while the metallic paints pin the pierced flesh squarely within the human gaze that becomes the shining nimbus surrounding it. I hope you like this sacred art piece.
*"That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen (ἑωράκαμεν) with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life-- the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, (ἑωράκαμεν) and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us-- that which we have seen (ἑωράκαμεν) and heard, we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with His son Jesus Christ." -1 John 1-3
Light and Shade ~ SOLD! (Somebody liked this!)
8 in. x 10 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
Seven Little Hotties
8 in. x 10 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
Home gardeners tend to find each other. Kitchen tables are hot spots for trade deals made over fresh-picked produce and Mason jars put up with the summer's harvest. While stopping by a fellow gardener's house, I mentioned I was planning to make some green tomato salsa, and before I knew it, seven little home-grown jalapenos were set before me on the table. Here they are. A couple of things I loved about this painting this piece were the interesting, multi-layered shadows created by the kitchen lighting and the soft turquoise hidden in some of the highlights on the peppers.
Dusk on Franklin Street
8 in. x 10 in., acrylic on traditional-depth canvas
Thanksgiving
8 in. x 8 in., acrylic on gallery-wrapped canvas
Turkish Delight (Guli's Pomegranates)
8 in. x 8 in., acrylic on cradled birch panel
