“Painting for Myself” Art Exhibit Sunday, September 13, 2015, at the Old Town Triangle Association Gallery in Chicago

Hi, Hello, Greetings —

I am meeting old friends, special faithful friends that can be put away and wait patiently for their recognition anytime one chooses—personal paintings from stored portfolios. Come, follow along with me.

Here are my friends. I am sorting, deciding about which images I will use selected from my personal portfolios.

Lovely scenes painted in my neighbor's garden.

Lovely scenes painted in my neighbor’s garden.

Dressing them up in mats and frames for their public debut on Sept 13 at the Old Town Triangle Show. Each painting has its own story to tell and in my memories they are so loud that I don’t know which one I will listen to first.

This picture was painted while enjoying my neighbor and her garden on spring evenings.

This picture was painted while enjoying my neighbor and her garden on spring evenings.

This one—my next door neighbor’s garden with the Stone Pig (image size 19” X 14”, framed size 27” X 20”). She was also my student. My neighbor liked her cocktails and invited me over two or three times a week to have an early evening drink. She hated living alone and when she became too in the “dumps” for a good time we would sit in her “Garden with the Stone Pig” and paint together. It is a pleasant memory of my old friend who was one of our country’s first aviatrix. She is long gone. I thought she would leave the stone pig for me but she didn’t

Well I can’t listen to all but let me tell you another quite different story so you can fully enjoy it and I can share a special memory of painting, “Elk in High Pasture” with the Tetons their backdrop, size 27”Lx21”H.

Migrating elk while high in the mountains of Wyoming.

Migrating elk while high in the mountains of Wyoming.

My brother, Paul Dean, lived in Dubois, Wyoming. Every summer, I went out to stay a month with his family. His two daughters and I had free range to ride horseback anywhere we chose. If we got lost he advised, “simply give the horses their heads and they will bring you back to the barn.” It only happened once. The painting was sketched and began in this beautiful meadow in the High Country in its full summer bloom–and as if that was not a gift big enough, as I was swinging my brush happily and purposely on the scene, several elk came into view and stopped to graze. They stood in magnificently majestic poses as if staged then bent to crop the sweet grass as gracefully as dancers in performance. My cup runneth over with gratitude.

More later mates……………

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