Blossoming

The names are still coming in for the apple painting give-away, though when I reached 50 names I went ahead and selected a name from the hat, as was indicated and stated in the last paragraph of this blog entry. So if ANOTHER 50 people sign up, I'll give another small painting away. Everyone who has already signed up will still be on the list. There will be 100 names from which to choose. Sound fair?

Since several people have asked, the winner of the apple painting this go around was a friend here in Houston named Joanne Priest. Congratulations, Joanne! In her own words,

"Oh man!! I AM SO EXCITED!!! This is amazing. I don't have any art work besides my own in my house, and to have a Sarah Hazel painting is beyond awesome for me! I am completely in love with your work. Thank you SO much! I can't believe it!"

Also, last Friday, there was a chance (for me) that there would be time to paint. I did paint...on Friday and Saturday, which is unusual because most times it's VERY easy to get distracted with everyone at home. The best part about painting last Saturday was that I could hear Reese downstairs practicing his guitar in preparation for playing at church the next day, and I could hear Hilary practicing the piano for fun. It was magical, peaceful, and caused a deep fullness of contentment in my soul.
These camellias are what I painted on Friday, and a bit more on Sunday, though by Sunday most of the blossoms had fallen off the stems. Fruit, vegetables, and flowers fade so quickly after they've been picked. I often think of Cezanne when painting still lifes. He would leave his still lifes staged for so long while working on his paintings that the fruit would often rot before he was finished with the work. Though the exact quote in my Cezanne books regarding this is yet to be found this Wednesday, it is true -- I've read it somewhere (in a book.)

Small apologies for the untrue nature of the actual color of this painting. It's hard to get the lighting just right as an amateur photographer. To my recollection, this is the third year that I've painted camellias from the garden. They generally bloom in December or January. There might be one more opportunity to collect enough blooms to work on another camellia painting before the blossoms all disappear for another year. We'll see.

This painting is 9" x 12", oil on linen.