"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.

"Red Cellophane" -- oil on canvas -- 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

Last Monday I was in Meijer's in Traverse City, looking for a pink flower to paint. None of their pink flowers looked very striking. And then I spied this red cellophane! Wow! My heart started beating faster (always a good sign!) and I knew this was what I had to paint. The red gerber daisies were actually rather dull and drab-looking, compared to the cellophane.

I've painted clear plastic before. That's relatively easy. But to do red? I found it impossible to mix reds and get them to look transparent. Everything looked way too dark and muddy. What I ended up going was painting the entire tablecloth, using Liquin in with the oil paints. Liquin helps oil paints dry a lot quicker.

Once the tablecloth was dry, I was able to do a thin wash of red with Liquin. I think it turned out pretty well.

One of the striking things about the red cellophane was the pink shadow it cast on the tablecloth. It took some figuring-out to do on this one.

That's another vintage tablecloth from my collection. They're all from garage sales I've visited over the years. Glad the mice haven't found them yet!

"White Violet" -- oil on canvas -- 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

After finishing 2 paintings of onions, I was THROUGH with painting onions! But what to paint? What to paint? I felt frazzled. Somebody once told me that when I don't have a painting to work on, sometimes I feel like a frantic, little bird. That may be true. I'd bought 4 amaryllis bulbs over the weekend and potted them, but they won't bloom for several weeks.

I rooted around in my garage sale, vintage tablecloth collection -- for which I'm glad the mice haven't discovered yet. Found this one, horribly wrinkled, but zowie -- inspiration struck! No, it wasn't inspiration to iron it. I laid it out on my table and it looked pretty enough to paint all by itself (almost). I dug around in my collection of silk flowers and found this white violet. Aha! At last, a subject to paint!

Up here along the NW coast of Michigan, winters are typically very dreary: overcast, with snow every day. Blue skies are a rarity. Alas, no strong sunlight and shadow patterns most of the time. Some painters prefer painting by north light; I'm the opposite. I love the strong sunlight and shadows. But as you can see, I had none in this painting. Only the softer, diffused light. But that's OK, too. It snowed all day, lightly. Lake-effect snow, they call it.

I always love a good challenge and this tablecloth certainly was a toughie. I quickly realized I'd have to draw in the whole pattern. Once that was figured out, I could add the pot of violets. Wasn't sure if I could pull it off. The little wrinkles were tedious, but what else was there to do? Clean house? Ugh. Would rather paint wrinkles. The final touches on the tablecloth were to add dashes of heavy impasto white paint.

I think I'll be using this tablecloth AGAIN....

"Gnome for the Holidays" -- oil on canvas -- 30x40" -- Margie Guyot

People always ask me what my inspiration for a painting was. In this case, it was the ancient accordion I happened to see high on a shelf in Petals, a flower shop in Charlevoix, MI. The woman told me she used to play accordion (me, too!) and she'd found this old instrument out in a Las Vegas pawnshop. Reminds me of "Accordion Crimes" by Annie Proulx -- one of my favorite novels, by the way.

I thought this was such a cool accordion. I dared to ask the woman if I might borrow it sometime to use in a still life painting. To my utter surprise, she said yes. She'd never seen me before, but was willing to let me whisk away her accordion! This would only happen in the rural Midwest! As a thank-you, I bought a bunch of lime green fuji mums, which I managed to incorporate into this painting.

My friend Ev had been suggesting to me that I should paint a musical instrument-themed still life. Now that I had the piece-de-resistance, I could build the rest of the setup. Ev loaned me the cornet, guitar and violin.

I had the gnomes. This big one in the center is from Meijer's garden department. Usually it's stationed right inside my front door, greeting all vistors in its namaste pose. The other gnome in the back I brought up from my old digs in Farmington Hills. How it survived the move without being broken, I consider a minor miracle.

Found those great, old vintage poinsettia glasses in Consign Design, in Charlevoix. I love old schlock like that! The poinsettia tablecloth was from my "early garage sale collection".

For reasons I can't really explain, I had to set everything atop a tropical print with turquoise and golden palm leaves. Maybe it's locked way into some subconscious fantasy about spending Christmas down on a desert island.

The cookies are entirely made up, from memory. The miserable grocery stores up here have the nastiest, most pathetic cookies you could imagine! I'm trying to cut the carbs, so I didn't want to bake any. Plus, I'm too impatient to stop & bake cookies when I'm inspired to start a new still life. But I do remember how Christmas cookies USED to look. They're sitting on a Depression glass plate I inherited from my mom.

Swirling around in the back are branches from one of the neighbor's bushes. They sure look like some kind of cranberry to me. By the time I finished this, they were dried-out mummies.

What was the hardest part about this painting? Painting the musical instruments! Unlike a squash or apple, they have to be ACCURATE. And those accordion keys -- oy vey! Early on, I'd painted in the accordion, then when I came into the studio the next day I saw it was all skewed. I'd stood close to the canvas, looking down on it. It looked OK at that angle, but from across the room, it was very much "off". As usual, I did LOTS of wipe-outs on this. But I'm pronouncing it done!

"Black Bell Peppers and Corn" -- oil painting on stretched canvas -- 18x24" -- Margie Guyot

A few days ago I found these bell peppers in a roadside farm stand south of Eastport, north of Elk Rapids. I'd never seen this color of pepper before and just had to have some to paint! Got this sweet corn at the farm stand as well. I thought it looked more interesting to leave the silk and part of the husk on. I'd avoided painting corn. What to do with all those kernels??? How to handle the silk?

What I did was paint a deeper gold tone on the corn cob. Later I went back with some lighter paint and just dabbed it along in rows. It turned out to be easier that I'd thought. And painting the silk was a lark!

This setup remained on the table for several days, so the corn was a little too old to eat. I gave it to my chickens this morning and after a few dubious pecks, they quickly decided it was "edible - choice".

"Brandywine" -- oil on canvas -- 18x24" -- Margie Guyot

A few days ago I was visiting my neighbors, chatting away on their front porch, when I happened to see this marvelous tomato sitting in their windowsill. I loved the greenish-yellow "shoulders", contrasted with the red. It gave me goosebumps! I knew I just HAD to paint this tomato. Sue and Shirley graciously let me borrow it. They told me it's one of their heirloom tomatoes they plant every season: a brandywine.

I'd bought this lovely purple cabbage last week and had planned on using it in a painting as well. I love painting cabbages! Could paint them all day. Love the colors!

The next step for me was to dig through my collection of vintage linens. I just love tablecoths out of the 40's and 50's! I don't have dozens of them and am always on the lookout.

The cherry crop up here in Michigan was abundant, and I happened to have a bag full in my fridge. I thought the dark red sweets looked good with this arrangement. Used a glass dish from a garage sale to set them in. I love the design, with its ridges and how it allows bits of the tablecloth design to show through.

And those striped glasses! They were also from a garage sale. Guess I've got a "thing" for painting stripes and often use them in my still lifes. Sure, it's really tough to paint them, but I love a good challenge. Painting is, after all, nothing but a big puzzle. Instead of laboring over a crossword puzzle, I'd sooner spend that time figuring out my own puzzles.

Finally, I really love showing a strong sense of light and shadow in my paintings. One thing Clyde Aspevig taught me is to lay down your shadows early and stick with them. This still life was set up next to a big window and as I painted, the sun and shadows moved. Clyde told us to just establish the shadows early on and to avoid changing them (or you'll just go nuts!). I really enjoy establishing the color changes between the lighted areas and the shadows.

"Red Primrose" -- oil on panel -- 11x14" -- Margie Guyot

Don't you love this intense red? I saw this little plant at the grocery store last weekend. I don't think I could chose a favorite color, but if somebody was twisting my arm, I guess I'd chose red. Or yellow. No -- wait....

We went through a week or so of totally blah weather: cloudy skies, with very little interesting views to paint. And when it's down around zero, I like to have something inside the studio to work on. I believe I can plant this primrose outside in the spring. I have some yellow primroses and what the heck -- I should go back to the grocery store and get one in every color!

The vintage tablecloth is from a garage sale, of course. The rose glass is from my favorite aunt, Aunt Madeline. If you've been following this blog for a while, you would probably recognize the frog. I thought the viridian-green of the frog went along well with the viridian-green in the tablecloth.

Although there are 3 big southern-exposure windows on my studio, it's been too cloudy to cast strong shadows. So I had to pull out the studio light to create a sunlit effect.

"Frog Tea Party" -- oil on canvas -- 36x36" -- Margie Guyot

This was a pretty challenging piece. The most difficult part was the tablecloth. It was a vintage find from a garage sale and I about tore my hair out, trying to get it right. Surprisingly, the big glass vase in the center was just a trip! I could paint swirls all day. I found it was best to use a larger brush, turned on its side, rather than a fine brush to do the thin lines.

Those frog pieces are so much fun! I found the teapot, sugar and creamer in a garage sale last summer in my old neighborhood back in Farmington Hills. That woman always had the choicest, most interesting stuff in her garage sales! Every summer she'd have a sale and I'd mop up. She and I had very similar tastes. The water pitcher was found on eBay a couple months ago. I just had to do a painting with these.

If you've followed my blog, you've seen an occasional painting that includes frogs. Frogs have a special place in my heart. Back when I was little, my dad had a cottage on a little river in Iowa and I pretty much grew up out there. I preferred playing with frogs rather than dolls. My sister and I played doctor with them and tried dressing them in doll clothes. We had leopard frogs, green frogs, bullfrogs and the little spring peepers. So frogs have a special place in my heart.

Over the years friends have noticed my affinity for frogs and have given me frog figurines. Which I thank them for, but tactfully as possible ask them NOT to give me any more. Some frogs are cool but others are not. Know what I mean? It's those goofy ones with the gigantic, wide mouths and telescopic eyeballs that I find hideous. And they're everywhere! Like those gawd-awful macrame owls everybody had back in the 70's. No, I guess I'm just a frog-snob.

You'd be surprised at how that setup looks now: the teacups are filled with a fuzzy, mossy scum. The flowers are dried whisps. The cookies look unchanged, but I wouldn't want to eat them. Good old BHT (or whatever preservative they're using now at Pepperidge Farm these days). I always work from life, never a photo, and I'd had countless interruptions while working on this. Normally I can finish a large painting in a week, more or less. It dragged on at least a month this time.

I'm SO ready for some quick, plein air landscapes!