Kathy Riley

My husband took a picture of of me at the Denver Art Museum last week. I was quite surprised at how my hair had turned completely white. Not just gray, or bits of gray, but totally white. Total disbelief. I’m always a contemplating overthinker, so I began to ponder what direction to go with my paintings, as well as reflect on what my work would communicate and embody. The older I get, it’s not hard to narrow down what’s important: an enduring life lived and loved for Jesus, upholding the sacred commitment of marriage, the joyful blessing of children, and the setting aside of your own needs for the needs of others. I pray this shout through every stroke of the brush, every wash of color, and every detail. These paintings are in my studio, one forced to completion of a class, and the other, rushed and hung up for a later time. Whether finished or not, I’m constantly reminded of the blessings I have.

I've been working on a mural for our local coffee shop just down the street. We kind of like the new owners, and the community is amazing. I'll be painting behind the bar beginning tomorrow. Come say HI!

Every May, I get lost in the garden. Colorado has a short growing season. We've come a long way since our previous hoarder-owned, online-auction-won, lava-rock-covered yard, home was purchased. Mike and I looked past the dead, crunchy mouse carcasses, holes in the wall, missing ceilings in rooms, Duck Dynasty style wallpaper and vinyl tile covered three-sided fireplace to see a home. For years, I "Shawshank-Redemptioned" buckets of black lava rock into the trash, adding compost, mulch; slowly transforming the front and back yards, well Mike worked countless evenings and weekends on the interior of the house. Now, we are on the cusp of finishing a carriage house we began in 2016. More evenings and weekends of painting, electrical, and my son installing flooring and trim. We've learned so many lessons along the way, seeing how God has provided for us, strengthened our hands and sharpened our character.

As an added bonus, all the yard work has brought countless birds and new wildlife. After a baby hawk on our porch, and a hummingbird (flying into our house, rescuing it, feeding it sugar water, and releasing it), I told my family this week I feel like Cinderella. Immediately, Mike begged me not to sing a song that would bring the rats and the roaches...

Magenta is my red, green gold as my yellow, and black as my blue. I'm supposed to be doing smaller studies, but I'm obviously totally incapable of painting small.

I've learned from other artists to walk away from a painting and leave it in a place where you see it daily. You often begin to problem solve areas where needed. Since this class has a painting due each week, you just have to walk away quickly and visit them again later. This one was painted in two afternoons, so you have to move fast, and let it go. After it stared at me on my kitchen counter for a couple of days, I decided to darken the background, the the opening where the teapot is sitting slightly ajar, and the shadow under the right balloon. This class is challenging me in color theory, painting in oils, and all the combinations of color that can come with mixing. On to transparent colors!

One hour study. 8 x 10. Gunnison National Forest. Acrylic on canvas board.

Okay. Trying smaller studies for an hour to beat at my perfectionism, and I've been gently reminded to keep posting! 8 x 10 acrylic on canvas board. Gunnison National Park. Fall trip to Paonia.