studio practice

Strasburg Studio Archives: Falling Quiet

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

F A L L I N G Q U I E T

OCTOBER SPOTLIGHT: "KELP TIDE"
48 x 36", oil on birch panel, 2009.

Ask me about price, delivery and install
Thank you for joining me on this monthly trip through the archives of my studio. 

Kelp Tide, 48 x 36”, oil on birch panel.

I found my inspiration for this month’s spotlight, Kelp Tide, while wandering a favorite shoreline. Mesmerized by the gentle push of the tide against the large swath of seaweed in the tidepool, I felt myself lulled by the swaying kelp and captivated by the colors and layers of transparency in the fog-filled morning tide.

The title of this edition of studio archives, Falling Quiet, was meant to reflect my intention of discussing the coming time change, the retreating light and my perennial desire to hibernate through the darkening months. However, a recent gift from a friend - a book titled “Unquiet Landscape”, a collection of essays about ideas in twentieth century British painting - shifted my focus to the broader questions of creativity and process.   

In the opening few pages, headed “The Landscape as Emotion” the author, Christopher Neve, states:

“The painter goes through the land and sees what nobody else has seen because landscape comes from inside not out. It depends on entirely who he is…. It finds its way into his imagination via all his senses; it becomes part of his spirit, and then, with great care and sensitivity, it may be brought back again by hand into the visible world and somehow recognized.” 

“Inside not out”, perfection.

 As artists and makers, we serve as both conduits and filters, absorbing the world and refining our vision through our unique perspectives. For as long as I can remember, I have sought peace, quiet, and balance. As a small child, I found this calm in the back of closet, away from the bustle of a busy house and as I grew older the outdoors filled this need for quiet connection. Painting later became the physical manifestation of these personal experiences.

How does all this come back to a clump of seaweed in a tidepool? For me, it embodies the feeling of interconnectedness found in the hushed sound of the waves, the silent sway of kelp in water; it is the moment of recognizing the beauty in the mundane and celebrating the extraordinary in the ordinary.

As we transition into this season of retreating light, I invite you to join me in reflecting on your own landscapes—both external and internal. By embracing the stillness of the coming darkness, perhaps we can mute the noise of the holiday season, discovering connection in the small moments and inspiration in the gifts these moments offer.

Kelp Tide initially started with drawings of the seaweed mass encountered at the tidepool. I did a lot of printmaking at the time and had every intention of making the images into etchings. I loved the composition so much I decide first to make a painting.

Kelp Tide made its debut in 2009 in an exhibition titled Air I Earth I Fire I Water at Sullivan Goss in Santa Barbara. I can't recall if this beloved painting ever made another showing on a gallery wall. It is definitely pulled out often to show in my studio but has yet to find its rightful place in the world. I did eventually make etchings but my heart is still warmed by the painting.

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  

 Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

 One treasure. One story. Once a month.


I look forward to sharing the hidden gems in my studio in this monthly series.
Feel free to forward to other treasure seekers and art lovers.

Strasburg Studio Archives: Fall Pine-ing

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

F A L L P I N E - I N G

OCTOBER SPOTLIGHT: "Fall Mountain Lake"
14 x 36", oil on birch panel, 2022 - 2024.

Ask me about price, delivery and install
Thank you for joining me on this monthly trip through the archives of my studio. 

Fall Mountain Lake, 14 x 36”, oil on birch panel.

Recently, a friend sent me a link to an “art bot” which will churn out a description of a selected artwork when you upload an image. For this month’s spotlight, I thought I would enlist the help of the AI generated analysis. It’s weird and fun and unnerving all at the same time.

“This artwork is an evocative landscape painting capturing a serene natural scene dominated by rich greens and yellows. The composition features a foreground of reflective water, with a lush middle ground of trees in the peak of their autumnal glory, characterized by vibrant yellow leaves


The use of color in this piece is particularly striking. The artist has masterfully employed a range of greens and yellows to convey the season's warmth and the lushness of the foliage. The reflections in the water are rendered with particular finesse, subtly capturing the mirrored image of the trees and adding depth to the scene. The brushstrokes are deliberate yet fluid, indicating a proficient control of technique that brings a sense of movement and life to the painting.

One of the strengths of this artwork lies in its ability to evoke a serene and contemplative mood. The choice of an autumnal color scheme imbues the scene with a sense of nostalgia and tranquility, inviting the viewer to pause and reflect as though they are standing by the water's edge themselves.”

The bot offers a surprisingly accurate description and even manages to touch the deeper nuances of mood, movement, and atmosphere within the work. Yet, what it can’t know is my motivation for painting this image or what my personal connection is to this place and time.  

Fall in the mountains was always a miraculous experience. Our property had myriad tree species that put on a stunning color parade from late September through early December. The sugar pine, with its coral glory, was the first to change, followed by a small grove of aspen that transitioned from limey green to rich golden fluttery leaves. Blue spruce trees mingled with the warm foliage, and a red pin oak capped off the season with fiery crimson leaves. 

Autumn is a much quieter affair on the coast of California, which is why I find myself missing our mountain retreat more each year. Still, I revisit the glorious moments of our tenure in the mountains when recreating that breathtaking landscape.

And while the art bot can mimic analysis, it can never truly convey the warmth of the sun filtering through those golden leaves or the crispness of the mountain air. Each brushstroke is a reminder of home, an invitation to hold onto those fleeting moments, and a way to keep the spirit of those autumn days alive in my heart.

“Fall Mountain Lake” is part of a small collection of paintings depicting the watering hole across the street from our former cabin.  I sketched these out several years ago and return to them regularly, finally finishing two paintings of the four seasons. They have yet to be seen in a gallery setting but remain beloved in my own home until the time they fly the nest to reside elsewhere.

   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  

 Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

 One treasure. One story. Once a month.


I look forward to sharing the hidden gems in my studio in this monthly series.
Feel free to forward to other treasure seekers and art lovers.

Strasburg Studio Archives: City Hall & Beyond

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

C I T Y H A L L & B E Y O N D

SEPTEMBER SPOTLIGHT: "Side Street, NYC"
12 x 48", oil on birch panel, 1999? - 2024.

Ask me about price, delivery and install
Thank you for joining me on this monthly trip through the archives of my studio. 

Side Street, NYC, 12 x 48”, oil on birch panel.

I’m presenting a unique landscape for the September spotlight: a view from New York City.
 
This painting carries with it a rich and somewhat tangled history, one marked by its persistent state of incompletion. The inspiration photo was taken with a small, plastic disposable panorama camera sometime in the 1990’s (honestly I can’t remember the date). Same goes for the painting, when I started it, I don’t know. I pull it out to work on between shows or when I’m waiting for that next spark of inspiration.

Side Street, NYC, detail

This year I decided it was time. Time to finish, if only for the auspicious occasion of my 20th wedding anniversary.
 
On the first day of Fall, twenty years ago, husband Bill and I eloped while vacationing in New York. We shared the news with only a couple friends before leaving town and waited to announce it until after we said “I do” at City Hall. Afterwards, we walked the Brooklyn Bridge calling family to share our news. It was perfection.

For me, Fall has always been a time of adventure. It’s my way of dispelling the melancholy that often accompanies the transition from summer to autumn, from the long, bright days to the encroaching darkness of winter. My solution has always been to travel—escaping when kids are back in school, before the holiday rush takes over, and while the tourists have retreated for the season.

As the days grow shorter and the light shifts, the studio becomes a place of reflection as I chase the dwindling sunlight, savoring each fleeting moment before the winter sets in. This painting, a culmination of countless returns to the easel, now stands as a testament to both my creative journey and the personal milestones that have marked my life.

So, as we embrace this new season, I’m reminded of the enduring connection between art, memory, and the passage of time. It’s a celebration of moments both big and small, and a reminder that every brushstroke is part of a larger, ever-unfolding story.

Side Street, NYC, detail

“Side Street, NYC” has lived in two studios over the past couple of decades. Being that it was always in transition, it never had an opportunity to be on the wall, in a gallery. It’s funny that I’ve made other paintings of New York, polished and living out in the world, yet this one remained incomplete. I have one other such painting of the Paris skyline that has eluded a finish. Perhaps it will be next on the easel.  Stay tuned.

   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  

 Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

 One treasure. One story. Once a month.


I look forward to sharing the hidden gems in my studio in this monthly series.
Feel free to forward to other treasure seekers and art lovers.

Strasburg Studio Archives: Forest Bathing

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

P I N E  D R E A M S


AUGUST SPOTLIGHT: "Forest Bathing"
19.5 x 29.5", oil on birch panel, 2023.

Ask me about price, delivery and install


This installment of Studio Archives is slightly delayed due to an unrelenting summer cold.
Thank you for joining me on this monthly trip through the archives of my studio. 

Forest Bathing, 19.5 x 29.5”, oil on birch panel.

Recently reviewing the archive essays, I’m noticing the distinctive running theme of weather. It makes sense to be weather obsessed as a landscape painter.
 
The changing patterns outside determine the light illuminating my beloved subjects of grass, trees, land and water. The intensity of color on a sunlit backdrop or the moodiness of a storm cloud laden sky are elements that inspire and excite.

This month’s spotlight, Forest Bathing, represents one of my favorite walks in the Los Padres National Forest, near Mount Pinos, where my husband and I once owned a cabin. For years, we would abandon the coastline for higher altitudes to wander along nearby riparian corridors flanked by Jeffrey Pines emanating their intoxicating butterscotch scent in the heat of the summer.

As sun-drenched days settle in for their summer residency, August was a particularly wonder-filled month in the mountains. Often thunderheads would blossom over the distant range, the billowing white clouds would build playing peek-a-boo with the sun and throwing long shadows from towering pines onto the landscape.

In the warmth of this particular day, deep into the undergrowth, a sea of hatchling ladybugs filled the air. Layer upon layer of green pine needles and wild sage backlit with August sunlight made for a perfect image to paint. The meandering, flitting bodies of a million ladybugs added magic to a fairy-tale walk in the pines.

Forest Bathing isn't truly an archived image, having been completed in the last year with myriad other tree-themed paintings. Forest Bathing has never ventured beyond the studio and remains with its posse of forest paintings awaiting the just right moment to be exhibited. 

Fond memories of many summers spent in the pines compelled me to highlight my fondness for the mountains which rivals my love for the sea.


Interesting Factoid: At 8847 feet, Mt. Pinos is the tallest peak in the Los Padres National Forest. It is also known to be a dark skies destination for astronomy buffs. It's just 2 hours from Santa Barbara and has some of the best dark sky viewing around. The Perseid meteor shower is one of the best shooting star displays of the year and occurs late-July into mid-August each year. This year the peak will be August 11-12 with the most abundant shower occurring after midnight when the moon sets.
 

Learn more about the Perseids

   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  

 Strasburg Studio Archives: Rediscovery in the Stacks

 One treasure. One story. Once a month.


I look forward to sharing the hidden gems in my studio in this monthly series.
Feel free to forward to other treasure seekers and art lovers.

Remind me when we met?

A week has passed since the opening of SURFACING at Sullivan Goss in Santa Barbara. With the show successfully launched, life now turns toward other, more mundane, pursuits; the long forgotten and neglected chores, the unglamorous tasks, that accumulate during the swirling excitement of completing a body of work and the subsequent installation at the gallery.

One luxury, post-reception, is time.

First to fill my calendar: take a long walk with a friend, followed by a plunge in the Pacific.

As we meandered the cliff and shoreline at Campus Point and while scurrying around the craggy rocks during the advancing tide, I was reminded of an image I painted from two decades ago. Still, this view surprises, inspires and holds my attention.

Every. Single. Time.

How does it do that?

Campus Point, Santa Barbara, CA, 2023

I created several versions of this view, small studies and a larger format oil painting, which caught the eye of my then “soon-to-be” husband. I created one last rendition in a size that would fill a wall in our dining room where it has lived for two decades, still bright, still shiny, still inspiring.

And, this morning, standing in front of the muse as it, once again, sparkled and posed, I caught my breath as the vision spilled its fairy dust reminding me that amidst the ebb and flow of life, some things always remain the same.

Point Break, 30x72”, oil on panel 2003