Stacy Weitz Minch

June really snuck up on me this year—but I’ve been making the most of the beautiful late spring weather/cooler temperatures to get outside and paint. It’s always a challenge to find the time during the summer months with the kids home from school, but they’re getting old enough to manage themselves for a little while and that’s nice. This lilac study was painted very quickly—I had only been painting 30-40 minutes when the park landscapers informed me they needed to plant a tree right where I was standing :) It’s always an adventure painting outdoors!

It was 78 degrees the other day, and I have to say, it was quite a shock to my system--I guess I just don't know how to not be cold after this eternal winter :) As far as art goes, my mantra this year has been to paint small and often, taking all the pressure off of the process and the outcomes. Sometimes I have these grand ambitions for painting, and dive into some overwhelming project head first. I'm not saying this is bad. It's not. It's an excellent thing to do, and makes returning to the simpler work so gratifying and liberating. However, it is possible to get burnt out, and I think that's what happened with me last year. I spent much too long laboring over a massive canvas that in the end, I felt less than confident about. And honestly, in my little heart of hearts, it felt like a waste of a year. Not that it was. It wasn't. It just felt that way. All this to say, I'm having fun with my painting these days. Painting when I feel like painting. Doing som

January 1/17/2023 4:07:34 PM It's been a quiet couple of months here--as quiet as quiet is with a home full of pets and kids and holidays and winter illnesses and all the daily happenings of family life...   What I mean by quiet, I guess, is that my artistic output has been a bit sparse. Maybe it's the general malaise of winter days. Or the feeling of having too much or too little to say. Or the fact that I've been waxing philosophical as of late, reexamining my life up to this point (could it be I've lived almost half my days?), feeling the irresistable pull of authenticity dragging me through the mire of what's comfortable and familiar into something that's brighter and darker and startlingly, embarrassingly new.   That all sounds rather vague and cryptic, and I suppose it is. But here I am, one small sojourner on this swirling, ancient planet, engaged in the ever-human search for truth, leaving a smattering of breadcrumbs along the way.   That's the thing