"Pussywillow" -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

A few days ago I saw a wild pussywillow growing in the cedar swamp, down the road about a mile. I nipped a few little branches and had them in a vase by the kitchen sink. This morning I looked at them & thought I should do a painting.

I love this old tablecloth! I left it all mussed-up, as it fell onto the table.

Both the little studio kitties slept most of the afternoon, listening to classical music on NPR radio. When I was about done, they perked up. Of course they had to jump onto the table, rip the pussywillows out of this vase and drink the water!

People might wonder why I did such a restricted-looking (colorwise) painting. Well, it's nice once in a while to leave the jarring colors sit for a day or so. Maybe I was influenced by the Sarah Brightman DVD I watched last night. And it was another dark, snowy day here in Michigan. No strong sunlight, so this painting reflects a more quiet look.

"Two Cups of Tea" -- oil on stretched canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

"Yellow Primrose" -- oil on stretched canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

Winter has returned with a vengeance! It snowed ALL day yesterday. A perfect day for painting in the studio. I'd found this vintage, striped table runner at a resale shop in Charlevoix last week. Loved the "cottagey" colors! I'm sure there will be more paintings with this cloth.

I love painting cups with tea. It's fascinating -- the colors change so quickly as the tea brews. These teacups are ancient, with "China" stamped on the bottom. Thin as paper. With little hand-painted bluebirds and flowers. It's a miracle they survived my move up north.

Because it was so dark & dreary outside, I had to set up a studio light to get some sense of sunlight and shadow patterns. Still, it's not quite as good as real sunshine.

The primrose plant came from Glen's in Charlevoix. I'm going to try to keep it alive until spring, so I can plant it in my flower garden.

I found I had to pre-mix all the colors of the striped fabric in fairly large quantities before doing the actual painting. I enjoy loading on the paint to get a "thick & juicy" look. Not only is the scene interesting, but I also like people to notice the beauty of the actual paint, its wonderful "mooshiness" and color.

"Elk Lake" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

Saturday was a beautiful, sunny day, up to about 50 degrees. Probably the nicest day we've had yet this year. I felt the urge to drive down to Elk Rapids, the next little town down US 31. Every time I've been through, this big lake catches my eye. I've wanted to come and paint it ever since I moved up this way. The town's name is Elk Rapids, only I have no idea where the rapids are. All I've ever seen is this big lake. It's got dozens of tree stumps, some of which you see poking up out of the ice in this painting. I don't know the story on this lake yet. Probably it had been a river and it was dammed up, killing a bunch of trees?

When I see all those tree stumps in the water, the first thing I think is there must be some great bass fishing! I hope to get some fishing in this year. I haven't taken time to fish in almost 10 years, what with working and moving. This year I'm going to go fishing. And get out my kayak!

"View of Grand Traverse Bay" -- oil on masonite panel -- plein air study 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

I'd been very busy for the past few weeks, working on my garden and yard. So this is my first painting venture out into the landscape since the weather turned nice. My good friend Jerry and I went to a Nature Conservancy area that's in between Traverse City and Charlevoix, MI. It was a long walk through the deep woods to get out to the beach. As soon as I saw the bright sky and glistening waves, I knew what I wanted to paint. I loved the way the waves crashed into the shore. Loved that long, swooping, diagonal line.

I haven't really painted "surf" pictures before. So this was a bit of a challenge. Didn't know if I could do it, but I think it came off fairly believeable. I really loved the colors of the water. Farther out, the water looked a deep teal. Closer up, it was more of a viridian & white mix. And the ochre-toned bottom colors would show through along the shoreline.

This will be donated to the Crooked Tree Art Center in Petoskey. It will be in the D'Art for Art Annual Charity Event on July 17, 2008.

The distant hills are those of the Leelanau Peninsula, a beautiful place where much of the state's wineries and cherries are grown. The Grand Traverse Bay dips down out of Lake Michigan.

"Sunlight in Cedars" -- plein air oil study -- 11x14" on masonite -- Margie Guyot

Finally I'm done moving! And I'll agree with the statement that "moving is hell"! The past 2 months have been a non-stop marathon of packing/discarding/cleaning/repainting rooms/washing/driving, etc. Yesterday morning Detroit was getting pounded with 8" of snow, but up here in NW Michigan it was sunny. I hiked through our 12" of snow to way back in the swamp, near the little trout stream, in search of my little Christmas tree. While working in the auto factory, I was always too worn-out to put up a tree, decorations or to bake cookies. But now that I'm retired, I can start to enjoy life again.

While hiking along, I noticed this one area full of old cedars. I made a mental note to come back here to do some painting.

I finally found it: the equivalent of The Griswold Family Christmas Tree. Remember National Lampoon's "Christmas Vacation"? My tree was similar: a giant! After dragging it back through the woods, cutting it down a bit & wrestling it upstairs, I decorated it with all my antique glass ornaments I'd squirreled away from garage sales.

The weather looked good in the afternoon, so I lashed my outdoor easel onto the old sled. That sled I'd used as a kid in Iowa, and it was old when I got it. I think maybe it'd been my brother's. So it's probably at least 70 years old now. I pulled my easel through the snow, following the trail I'd left with the tree.

This spot is so pretty, deep in the woods, with huge, old cedars on a small hillside. I loved how the sunlight fell across the snow. Some animal tracks there -- maybe those of a deer? As I painted, the only sounds I could hear were the wind in the trees and an occasional raven. I had on my heavyweight down coat from eBay, moonboots I'd saved from the 70's, my wolf fur trooper hat and wool mittens. The heavy forest had protected me from the bitter winds. This was a fun afternoon. I'll have to make more trips into the woods for paintings.

"All Good Cats Go to Heaven" -- oil on canvas -- 60x36" -- Margie Guyot

I did this one last summer and just realized I hadn't posted this. It all started with finding this fluffy pink prom dress in a garage sale. It was SO pretty, with rhinestones and sequins. Size 2, so it would never fit me, but I bought it to put into a painting or two.

While take a shower a day or so later, I had the idea to paint a surreal vision of a white fairy cat, wearing the "fairy dress", wielding a magic wand, surrounded by cats enjoying catnip and playing with little glowing orbs. The cat in the lower right corner is Matisse, my longhair cat who catches and eats red squirrels. My other cat, Elvis, is the gray tuxedo cat on the left side, about midway in the painting. On my bed I have a giant black jaguar, which I painted in the background, overlooking the cat fairy.

I'm entering this one into the Scarab Club's annual "Blooms, Bugs and Beasts" show tomorrow.

"Wild Mustard" -- plein air study -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

This morning started out chilly and rainy, but soon it cleared and my buddies and I could paint. We had driven to the Kensington Metropark Farm Center. Most people went down by the water, but my eye was caught by this bunch of wild mustard in bloom. It made me think of the time I was in the French Rivera in springtime. Entire mountainsides would be covered in this yellow mustard. This view is in a small valley, with "junk" trees growing at all angles. In between the wild mustard were succulent clumps of catnip plants. I snuck some leaves out for my cats at home.

"Plowed Field" -- plein air study -- oil on canvas -- 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

My friends and I were painting by the Kensington Farm Center this morning when I spied this field. I loved the exciting patterns formed by the plow. The trees are all getting their leaves and the colors in early spring are so interesting. I got interrupted by one of the workers, who wanted to clear out some straw that was in the foreground. Good thing I paint fast! I declared this painting done and got out of his way. They're planning on planting sorghum in this field and then cutting it to form a maze.

"Hazy Spring Afternoon" -- plein air study -- oil on canvas -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

Last Saturday was probably our first nice day in Michigan since October. My plein air buddies and I lined up along this quiet pond that was dotted in new water lily pads. The leaves were just beginning to pop out on the trees. Morels were springing up from the duff. Violets were blooming. The large carp, frisky with the arrival of mating season, were leaping out of the pond, snapping at hapless bugs on the surface. After the long winter and late-arriving spring, the warm sun was very welcome. But the sky was thinly overcast with a high layer of clouds, giving an overall muted cast to the landscape colors. Spring greens of opening willow leaves, oaks and beeches were soft olives, pea greens -- even with hints of maroon in the maple buds. Spring peppers were singing. Even an occasional clunk of a bullfrog rang out. In a few days, these high, thin clouds would bring us a torrential rainstorm.

I'd gotten behind on posting to this blog because my brother was visiting me. And gave me his horrible cold from hell!

"White Owl" -- oil on canvas -- 48x36" -- Margie Guyot

Once again I played hookey from going plein-air painting with my buddies and stayed home to do a still life painting. Since last November, I think we've only had 1 Saturday with sun here in Michigan, and I was just tired of dark, gloomy (and rainy!) days. Yesterday was just another classic "sour owlshit brown" Saturday, so I holed up in my studio and painted screaming oranges all day, listening to my collection of Diana Krall CDs. Last Sunday I started setting this one up and it was driving me nuts for days. I kept taking everything off my rigged-up table, then putting stuff back on, taking it all off, putting back on. I wanted to find orange tulips, but nobody seemed to have them. So I bought orange lilies. All the vases and figurines I've scavenged from garage sales. The owl came from some old guy's garage sale and he was such a flirt! He'd built a treehouse in his front yard and had a mannequin in a bikini posed as if she was waving at passersby. And of course those are my shoes! Life's too short to be conservative.

I woke up during the night on Friday, thinking about this painting. Or, more correctly, the canvas surface. Originally I'd started painting something else on it but didn't like it. Last year a friend told me he recycles unwanted paintings by coating them with oil-based primer. I slapped some on this stretched canvas spring of 2006. But -- oy vey! When I tried painting on it, all the dark colors were dissolving into the supposedly dry primer! It was actually sticky to paint on. Very frustrating. I laid there in bed, thinking about that nasty canvas, thinking I'd have to go buy a new canvas in the morning and throw this old thing out.

Saturday morning I slept in until 4 AM (my usual time is 3 AM) and was so impatient for the sun to rise. Due to glare, I never paint from artificial lighting. When it got light enough to see decently, I went in and just started painting. Drawing this one in was pretty tough (I am far too impatient to take slides, wait for processing, then project and trace images!). I think it took me just as long to draw the basic arrangement in as it did to paint it. At least it felt that way. The glass bowls and large vase were interesting challenges, but not impossible.

So now it's Sunday and the sun is out, of course! I'm going to a big orchid show with my neighbors and maybe to our favorite resale shop.

"Gazing Globe" -- oil on canvas -- 48x48"

Last fall I trekked over to my neighbor's house and borrowed her purple gazing globe to use in a painting. Spring's just about here and I figured she'd want it back, so I got on the stick and did a yellow and purple-themed still life. Bright colors are my personal antidote to the dismal, sour-owlshit colors of Michigan winter. When I'm painting something with bright colors, listening to Diana Krall, it takes my mind off the factory or the frozen tundra outside. I imagine it's almost as thrilling as being in Key West, sipping a cold one under a palm tree.

It took me a good 2 weeks to do this one, slugging away on it on weekends and in the afternoons, after work. Pretty challenging to do. I work in the spare bedroom upstairs and it's pretty cramped, but manageable. The deep purple fabric is really a jacket. The yellow fabric with the purple and black squigglies is actually a dress I own. Life's too short for beige, honey! The red pieces are red tissue and a red plastic bag. My ascendant (astrologically-speaking) is Cancer, the Crab -- and it's been said that we just love packages and bags. They say that we tend to love the package the present comes in far more than what's inside -- and I'd agree! You should see all the boxes in my garage! But I digress. I found that great, gnarly glass vase at a consignment shop. I got to an estate sale in the last hour, expecting all the cool stuff to be gone, but I thought if there's anything I'm meant to have, it'll be there. And there it was, waiting for me: the iguana, marked down from $20 to $5! My lucky day.

The very first thing I painted in (or "nailed", as we say in the trade) was the canary melon. Waste not, want not. I quickly painted it in, then took it down to the kitchen, cut it up and ate it while I worked on the rest of the painting.

Notice the cat in the lower right corner? That's my dear Elvis, checking on me.