New Year's Resolution - More Leafy Greens!

                             Okay.          OKAY.        O.K.A.Y.!!!

                      More leafy greens. More leafy greens.
                     Yes, we are having MORE LEAFY GREENS!



                     So, we are eating more leafy greens. And this is the best:

                     Here's what we do...


                    Anne + Doug's More Leafy Greens


                   1 bag washed spinach, (or spinach, swiss chard, kale combo)
                   3 slices bacon, in 1" pieces (omit for veggie version)
                   3 whole walnuts, cracked open
                   1 - 2 cups sliced mushrooms
                   8 - 12  small blue cheese cubes

       Open spinach and scatter into a beautiful oval serving dish, about 12" x 18"
       Cook bacon (if using) in a small cast iron frying pan and set aside
       Fry walnut pieces in the same pan (about 3 mins) and set aside
       Cook mushrooms in the same pan (about 5 mins) and set aside


    Five minutes before serving, scatter bacon, walnuts, mushrooms, blue cheese over spinach.
    Heat about 6 tbls maple syrup in the frying pan
    Pour over spinach, (dispersing evenly) followed by about 6 tbls cider vinegar and 6 tbls olive oil
    S + P to taste

    Let sit for a few minutes

    Present this beautiful dish to the dinner table, (amidst the oohs and ahhs)
   Toss well and serve.

Figuring Out - Outing the Figure

                    For me, a figure work is, at least in some way, a landscape.

                               It is, after all, set in a place and a time.

                 It's about the painter's technique, thought process, mood, skill...

Not just a figure.

But a part of its landscape.

As well as a representation of the human figure, it's about the space around it. 

Place.

Time.

Colour.

Light.

It is about me as a painter and where I am when I paint it. 

But equally, it is about you as the viewer.

And where you are when you see it.

And the space in between.

Trinity Lake

                          Two hours north of us is this beautiful place.

We canoe here October 10 2014, the latest in the year that we have ever, (in our many many times here over twenty-five years), paddled these waters. 

It is a cool 7C, and as we approach these rocky shores, I am for the first time ever, wearing mitts while paddling.

I am researching a body of work entitled 'Trinity Lake'.

Trinity Lake.

(Not its real name.)

A place which gives me strength, feeds me, makes me delirious with happiness.

I now have so much to work from, to draw from, to think on.

A prayer, a song, a work of art.

The day has refreshed my soul.

Kawartha Autumn Studio Tour

Anne Renouf
Studio 33
September 27  28  2014
10 - 5

Les Tomates

Tomates.

                                                               

                             









We've had a few.

 

August in Ontario
(by Anne Renouf)

Corn. Tomatoes. Peaches. Beans.
Come. To. Papa. Baby.
(Or Mama).
Enjoy them while they last, cause soon
The frost will kill them, (say we).

(Bad. But you get the drift.)


So, in the meantime...

                                                                       
                                     

Oven-dried Tomatoes

Slice. Arrange on baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil. Add a grinding of salt.
Dry in moderate oven (250F) for 3 hours.
(I did them in the wood-stove on a cool morning.)
Flavourful. Oily. Salty. Yummy.

Walk in the Woods

Early May.
While missing the South, and yearning for the sea,
I decide that a walk in the woods is my northern equivalent.
(At least as far as inspiration goes.)
But not just any walk in the woods. The deep dark woods within our land.

Four years ago, I began a series of workshops entitled 'Art and the Creative Spirit'.
These centred around a contemplative walk in the woods.
A walk made in silence.
A time for listening, watching, sensing.

We gather, photograph, remember.
Back at the studio, we begin.
It is quite lovely to see such renewed vigour for art-making after an hour in the woods.
Materials are at hand.
Paints, pencils, pens, chalks, boards, paper, mixed-media supplies, found objects.
Spiritual reading, meditative music.
Some solo time for gathering thoughts.
Inhibitions vanish.
And the creation begins.


These woods refresh. 
Not paved or safe or planned. 
But uneven underfoot. 
Creature sounds. Tangled branches scratch. Insects ever-present.
Bird song.
"I am alive", they sing.










Walk in the woods.
(Good advice.)
And for four years, my mantra.

Central to my art. My creative spirit.

A step.
Not just into the woods. Into living the Creative Spirit.
Thinking of my work and art as a way of living.

That, but also,
A way to communicate ideas through art.
A way of connecting.
A way of giving (rather than taking, getting, accumulating).
A way of seeking (solitude, quiet, peace).
A way of simplifying (focusing, clarifying).

Making a way to develop an art practice.

Beginning with a walk in the woods.

Seeking a Muse

The dog days.
It's an in-between time.

In between the crazy frenzied prep for the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition,
                                                 and
the crazy frenzied prep for the Kawartha Autumn Studio Tour.

I have several new pieces (almost) completed - works on canvas and panel.
And I have (finally) wrapped up the 59" x 53" canvas
'Easter Morning (Cloister Light)',
(four months after Easter Sunday).

I have, (for the summer), been putting most of my energies into art-making with a five-year-old.
A five-year-old boy with  ideas.
An ideas machine, in fact.
We have gathered materials, collected cardboard, studied outer space, the undersea world.
Unearthed neon paints, paper, brushes, markers, pencils.
Incorporated found objects - ribbon, string, cardboard tubes, sticks, buttons, beads.
And used roughly a mile of masking tape.
All of this.

And, I've become addicted to Lego.

The 'Ideas machine', (only here for part of the summer), has now left us to return to his far away home.
Left us with plans, drawings, paintings, sculptures, murals, mobiles.
And left us with a large painted cardboard 'cat-trap', a roomy box fitted
with roof, ribbon-covered window, functioning door, and which can hold (when not in the business of catching cats) four children aged five and under.

 

I am missing his bright chirp-like conversation, his endless ideas, his sunny eagerness, his need to create. His musings.



I am missing his quick rough sketches as he explains an idea.

His use of colour.










He has given me a fresh perspective.



And so, I spend time with the complete freedom of a five-year-old.
Drawing with my wrong hand which, (for me, being left-handed), is
my right hand.


Right-handed Drawings