watercolor painting of trumpet flowers by emily weil

daily painting | front yard

Trumpet flowers have magical, drippy shapes that capture my attention every time, especially the light-colored ones that seem to luminesce in the afternoon sun. This scene was in a yard a block off Park St in Alameda, and I did a couple of passes at it with watercolors; adding ink and pastels livened up the painting.

I am enjoying my houseboat here in the marina on this peaceful, overcast, weekend afternoon. Neighbors are out, finches are chirping at the feeder (hoping for the oversized, always-ravenous pigeons to move along). Waiting for a friend to drop by for a yogurt-and-fruit-and-cookies visit. I have been writing “my story” in my journal, as advised by the skilled and compassionate facilitator of the Death with Dignity online grief support group that just started up. This dead-sisters-grief-process is pretty much still turning me inside out, so I try to just sit with all this heart-turbulence, but not without resentment that my nerves are still raw hamburger. I suppose this will all pass at some point (please feel free to remind me of that). Different tools help me get out of bed in the morning — painting, hiking in the redwoods, zumba class, banding hawks in the Marin Headlands. But Jesus, Mary and the Pips, this is a time.

7″ x 10″ sticks-and-ink, watercolor, acrylic, pastel on paper = $90

 

 

 

daily painting | oakland trumpets

Hard to know where to start here, but getting out my paints was a tonic today (as was the beach at Fort Cronkhite). We gathered as a family a few days ago in Crescent City, CA, to memorialize my older sister Diana who took her life on May 7. I went to my files of photos and from there painted these trumpet flowers, growing outside my Oakland studio. How do you even go on, after losing two sisters in less than six months? Dunno. But here I am, bringing out my pan of watercolors, finding veggies to roast for dinner, appreciating a road trip with my brother. Our family group, 11 or 12 of us, walked on Diana’s favorite beach to honor her. My brother noticed we were all walking abreast on that wild and wide and beautiful beach, so he grabbed the hand of our niece walking by his side; then we all joined hands and walked along the water. I sobbed and sobbed. RIP, Diana. You suffered a great deal and I hope you are at peace.

5″ x 5″ watercolor, pen on paper = $65