Mandevilla Mornings

In the summer, my sister and mother have gardens around their porches. They set out sizable planters with mandevilla, rosemary, and grasses. I’ve spent many mornings at their homes watching the morning light hit and the wind blow through them.

I’ve been drawing these flowering mandevilla vines, and they capture my attention with showy blooms and endless roping. I consider the trellis they grow upon, and how they depend on that structure within to pop their florals to the sun.

First sketches and tracing the drawing onto Yupo.

Caught, 2024
watercolor on yupo

 

One day, I realized the metaphor of inner strength that the trellis could represent, and I started sketching figures within the plants to take their place. Sometimes twisted and bound inside, they create the necessary base for blossoms to thrive.

Sometimes I get caught up in everything and feel the need to untangle myself, and it isn’t always possible without breaking a few ties. But it always feels important to balance pruning for future blooms and letting the vines take over for a while.

Grown, 2024
watercolor on yupo

Mermaids

It’s a subject known throughout the world, in all ancient civilizations, and discredited only by modern society—the power of the siren call, the half-human and half-sea creature guiding people to their demise. This phenomenon exists, tied to adventure, mystery, ocean, song, and also to the divine feminine.

 

My brush guides me, conjuring images from the pools of color and water. And sometimes I wonder why mermaids remain firmly entrenched in our collective consciousness, yet we dismiss their existence as mere myths.

Every day that I am in my studio, a mermaid appears. This pose contains a few examples, and here are more sketches and paintings.

My Song

Below are the illustration, text, and collage artwork inspired by a piece of art in the African collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

My Song

The sun is warming my skin,
And wet greens surround me.
My soul finds peace here,
I don’t speak—I listen.

I sit quietly among the chattering oaks,
The breezy willows,
The clicking switchgrass,
And the swaying cattails.

I watch the raindrops gently fall on each leaf.
They collect into tiny pools,
Trickle and travel the veins,
Then quickly dance to the ground.

After long contemplation  
That centers my spirit, 
I return to my village.
And I howl from my heart—I sing. 

To purchase the booklet or art prints, please visit the shop page.

Autumn Birds

Lately I’ve been painting the neighborhood birds in our area. There have been many visitors passing through Long Island this Autumn, as well as some that stay all year. I love to hear them singing, and some are more pleasant to listen to than others! But all are great to see, flying around our trees and shrubs and flowers that have gone to seed. I’ve planted a decent amount this past Spring that are known to attract birds, and I’m witnessing the benefits from my studio window.

Bluebird, watercolor on paper

Wren, watercolor on paper

Finch, watercolor on paper

Robin, watercolor on paper

Warbler, watercolor on paper

The Carousel

I used to love spinning rides when I was a child and teenager, and now they make me nauseous! At the Prospect Park Carousel in Brooklyn, I would often take my daughter, and the same operators would say hello and give us some extra turns on the ride. I would grin and bear it, as she would ride the largest horses, close her eyes, and pretend to fly to the clouds!

After my son was born, we came a few times again, but my son had a different opinion about the ride. He liked to sit in the sleigh and grip himself until the ride was over. Eventually, they both seemed to be happy with one riding the carousel while the other ran around with a ball on the nearby lawn!

In 2017, I participated in the Connective Project, to celebrate Prospect Park’s 150th Anniversary, organized by the Prospect Park Alliance and created by AREA4. The community was asked to submit artwork, photos, and memories of the park, and all submissions were printed and transformed into pinwheels, then designed in an organic layout throughout the park. I thought of the carousel, and what it meant to me, and I drew a few ideas. I created two digital composites and submitted those along with a photo of my daughter enjoying the ride. They can all be seen in this post, as well as an image by Amanda Gentile of the exhibition.

To learn more about the project, please visit connectiveproject.com.

The Connective Project, on view in the Prospect Park Rose Garden from July 7-17. Copyright Amanda Gentile https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/