Still exploring the shifting personalities of this view.
Here's the bright flashiness before things subdue, little by little neighbors turn out their lights, and the glitter of the city floats into the sky.
“Prelude” acrylic on 6x12” cradled basswood panel, 2024. All rights reserved.
Came upon this scene on my way to work one day, it’s lived in my head ever since.
“Book Review” acrylic on 6x8” claybord panel.
“3am (Night Music)” acrylic on 6x8” claybord panel.
A painting to remember one totally strange night (that I loved).
Read about it here.
Scenes about town. These are the kind of overlooked nothings that make me laugh. Wonder what type of day the road painter was having when this happened. We’ve all been there.
My first go at a snow painting (if you don't count one Sorolla study).
This is largely imagined, too, since there's no snow near me (tears). Based off my "Summer Sounds" painting from last year, wondering what it would look like blanketed in sherbet sunrise powder. Here are the two of them.
A mashup of memories - times spent frolicking around Balboa Park. From sketching to silent movies.
A favorite moment of my days.
I want all things right now - snow hushed landscapes, and to see the first mossy path of spring, bordered with early snowdrops and hellebores.
“In Reverie” acrylic on claybord panel, after Thomas Shields Clarke. All rights reserved.
I’m happy to share that I’ve gotten my print shop in order. There you’ll find new works - like this recent favorite - as well as archived pieces never offered as prints before.
Hope you’ll take a took, spread the word, and grab something for yourself or to surprise someone with.
x Lauren
“It Never Existed (Like This)” acrylic on 5x7” clapboard panel.
Thoughts on places I’d like to go that don’t exist, never existed - not like this, at least.
Painting after an autochrome by John Cimon Warburg - "Neptune Fountain, Cheltenham," circa 1915.
“Untitled (Night Sky #1)” acrylic on 5x7” claybord panel.
I have a newsletter that lifts the curtain on so very many areas relating to my work.
The latest talks all about the ‘why’ of my summer series.
More thoughts on light.
If you want to know a little story about this unassuming scene, click here.
Finished up the last of my summer paintings yesterday. Here’s one of them. A shame you can’t hear the soft symphony of bug & birdsong found here.
“Fireflies Remembered” acrylic on 5x7 claybord.
End of summer memories are piling up. Painting so much I can’t keep up with photographing many of them. (Not that I really want to, photographing art is the bane of my existence.)
But, here’s one.
The rest you can catch on my Instagram or via my newsletter. (It’ll take me a bit until galleries get updated around here.)
& here’s a link with information on helping out these glorious little lanterns.
When you’re young, there are things in life you take as a given. Because, what reason would you have to second guess them? As I’ve grown, the one thing I long for with an ache that feels like a part of me is missing, is a garden. (Happily, in my current place we’ve worked hard to set up a mini one, but I still dream of acreage.)
This scene is of the first garden in my life, and I’ll always think of who tended to it, what it taught & provided, and how special it is to have a garden.
Sometimes the ocean really is that purple.
& now I’m enamored with light filtering up through tree lined streets.
Whew! Busy.
Between being back in the full swing of painting & getting my newsletter rolling, I haven’t had much time to come up for air. & I love it.
If there’s anything I enjoy more than art, it’s talking and writing about art. Check it out here.
To San Diego. You’ll see them everywhere here. The most recent one in my sketchbook, next to another from last year.
