March 10, 2018

Peachy Canyon go
Peachy Canyon, Paso Robles (acrylic on wallpaper)

At the time I did this piece I was experimenting with landscape panels. I attached this 18 inch by 6 foot panel on to a board and then had it framed. I had a pretty amazing framer in Paso Robles during this time and she very cleverly worked out how to do it. But it was way too complicated to do that again, so this panel was the last one I did. I included a sampling of the framing above and below the art. Not sure this photo does any of that justice, but here it is anyway.

Peachy Canyon Winery is on the corner of Highway 46 and Bethel Road. I have done several other paintings of the vineyards on both sides of the road. But when I did this one, it was the little old white house on the property (from Paso’s earlier farming days) that caught my eye. I’ve always thought it would be great fun to live there. I enjoyed the idea that it was tucked away from view, but if you lived there you probably would have a great view of the vineyards from all sides. I haven’t been by that winery in a while, so the little white house may not even be there anymore. Most of the wineries in the area have become very fancy and such a humble little building probably doesn’t meet with the approval of the more sophisticated wine tasters that the area now attracts. Too bad!

One Californian Dreamin’

I often dream of houses. No, I really do dream of houses. And I wish I had the nerve to try and paint one of those houses from my dreamy memory. But I haven’t tried it yet. I just don’t think I could capture what my brain conjures up in the night as a single frame because dreams are actually movies, right? And oh my dream homes seem so real. I just don’t think I could do any of my “made up” houses justice. And as I am writing this now I wonder if I can actually do them justice trying to describe them in words. But I desperately want to imagine these houses in the daylight, so I’ll try. If you think the description of someone’s dreams of houses seems a bit of a yawn, you should definitely stop here.

I’m not a dream interpreter, but what does it mean to consistently dream of houses from both the inside and out? I mean, I have even had dreams of houses that were haunted, and sometimes I don’t go inside. But sometimes I just barge right in and check it out—even though I have to navigate a moving or undulating door handle. I don’t often have “repeat house” dreams except I’ve conjured up many homes that are high up on cliffs overlooking spectacular views of the ocean. But there is one house I have dreamed of so often that I can describe it pretty vividly. It always starts with a beautiful summer day and all around me is tall golden grass. I walk up to a small bridge and there on my right is a large red painted barn with white trim. I stop and look at it for a moment, noticing the crossed white boards on the barn door. Then my eyes look straight ahead to a tiny white clabbered house just in front of me. It’s not unlike the small farmhouse on this panel. In my dream the house is in deep shade with two huge trees on either side of it. I know the house is painted white, but the trees make it look a pale shade of green. Funny, in this dream I walk right up the steps of the small front porch, but don’t actually go inside.

Once I dreamt of a tall wooden house, in deep shade, with huge gardens all around. And as I walk all around, looking at the garden, I know this doesn’t make sense, as a garden can’t really grow much in such deep shade. But this is my dream and I love the coolness of the place and walking all around–occasionally looking up at what turn’s out to be a two-story Victorian that is tilting ever so slightly to one side. For another dream I am in deep shade again and my single story house is made of a kind of rosy shade of wood, like madrone I think. But what makes this house and dream so “jaw droppingly” perfect for me is that I walk out the back door of the kitchen and down into a valley of rigidly symmetrical forest of leafless, medium-sized deciduous trees. There are orange and golden fall leaves on the ground and I walk on and on into my forest, so very pleased with the order and beauty of my countless trees.

Sometimes my dream house dreams take place inside the house. I have such a vivid memory of me inside a huge floor to ceiling glass box that is my living room. The room is filled with afternoon light. And there is a piano and comfortable couch in the center of the room with lots and lots of books on shelves down low, so as not to block my view of the outside. And what a view it is—a huge expanse of green lawn that comes right to the glass. The velvety carpet of green is surrounded by an impenetrable wall of dark green layers of shrubs and taller trees, like no one can get onto the lawn and into this perfect light-filled box of books and music. And of course I am sitting on the couch in this amazing light, reading a novel of great interest.

In another interior dream house, I am in the center of a warm and dark living room. All around me are small indoor ponds and rivers. There is very soft lighting in this room and I sit on low comfortable furniture looking out the windows and listening to the sounds of the moving water. But in this cocoon room I don’t look out through floor to ceiling windows, but rather tall narrow windows all around the room. Outside these windows are narrow pathways that weave in and out of wooden fencing and bamboo.

Another dream interior that I can share with you starts in a bright kitchen. But the kitchen is like no other, and the room is a kind obstacle course where I must crawl over and under boxes to get to the center of the room. And somehow the tiny room expands as I move through it, and a table appears off to the side and all you would ever need to create an amazing meal is on the counters and in the cupboards around the perimeter of the room. It never occurs to me that this room is somehow magic, it’s just that I decided that all that space must have been there all the time.

And if I could have a favorite dream house movie I have seen in my head…here it is. When I was pregnant with my son I had an amazing dream that ended with me stepping up off a low wall to then fly through the air down the center of a house-lined street at sunset. Before I knew it, my two children fly up, each one taking my hand. Together, we whiz through the air, down the street. My child on the right says, “Dad, you need to get home soon. Mom has somehow killed all the plants in the house.” And we all start laughing. By now, the sun has gone down and we are hovering in front of our mid-century modern house. We stare into the “lamp-lit” living room with floor to ceiling windows and cool furniture—Eames lounge chairs, a glass chandelier and futuristic clock on the mantel. But what I remember seeing so vividly at this point are the 5 or 6 indoor plants with black leaves and a woman wandering around the room, obviously upset with the dead plants. She finally looks up and sees her family outside the window. She smiles faintly and we all wave. So, of course this is when I wake up and realize I have a big smile on my face. And my “dream” movie ends…

So, daylight savings starts tonight. I hate this time change–I feel like I am somehow cheated out of my dreaming time.

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