WIPs Archives - Mary Ahern Artist

This Week in the Studio – April 20-26, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The dahlia painting is closing in on a decision point — not finished, but approaching what mathematicians call an asymptote, where each session brings only the smallest of changes. This week brought glazing, compass work to recenter the flower, and careful attention to the intricate architecture of the center petals. Meanwhile, the garden is in full spring stride: pastels in the deck planters, a now-towering rhododendron that was once a gift from the Rhododendron Society, and a lemon-green haze of new growth everywhere. A trip to the wholesale nursery fed the creative well, and a brunch with my grandson CJ was the kind of time that refills everything.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 25, 2026

I may be nearing the end of working on this painting. Some say they’ve finished a painting. I feel that a painting isn’t finished, it’s just abandoned. The way to know that it is time to sign it and move on is that there are only minuscule changes at the end of each studio session. This is what’s known as an asymptote. Imagine that each day, as I begin painting, I am halfway finished with it. Continue forward through the days and weeks, and the realization is that it will never be finished since it will only ever be halfway done. There will always be another edge to soften, a color to shift, or detail to be added. At some point, the changes become infinitesimally small each day, so I make a decision to set the painting aside and begin the next piece. I am approaching that point with this painting.

While I’m working in my studio, my garden is working hard and making large gains, opening up new blooms every day. I’m loving all the pastel colors blooming in my deck planters at the moment. The rhododendron in the near distance was given to me as a gift when it was less than a foot tall, for hosting a garden tour for the Rhododendron Society a number of years ago. It clearly is happy to be here and so am I.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 24, 2026

So what does spring feel like for you? Colors describe it for me. Lemon green for the new growth on trees, pink and yellow pastels, and shades of purple around my garden. In my studio, the dahlia painting is taking form with some of those shades. Though most dahlias are fall-blooming plants, the flowers I paint are not guided by the time of year. This is the season I’m torn between where to spend my time. There is so much creativity to be explored both indoors and outdoors. Conserving enough energy for both is critical for me.

Today I planted ranunculus in the deck planters. In the distance to the left is a pink *Rhododendron* ‘Aglo’, *Grape Muscari* and daffodils in the center bed, and a *Cercis canadensis,* ‘Rising Sun’ and a PJM rhododendron.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 23, 2026

Looking into the center of flowers has always fascinated me. There is so much architectural structure in each flower. Like there is in human faces, there are personalities in each. Today I took a trip to my local wholesale nursery to see what is coming into the retail stores this season. Since, as a landscape designer with a degree in ornamental horticulture, I have the business credentials to have accounts at the wholesale nurseries, I take advantage of the opportunity to see masses of color and form. It is part of the inspiration for my art, both indoors and out.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 22, 2026

Earth Day today. I remember when all this started back in the day. It’s when I began recycling and haven’t stopped since. I worked some more on the center petals of the dahlia. Working on the three dimensionality of the piece. It’s always true that as you get closer to the completion of a painting, it gets harder and harder letting it go. This isn’t ready for prime time yet, but we’re getting there.

My grandson, CJ Ahern, came over to take me to brunch. He gave me coupons for some breakfasts and one dinner as a Christmas gift. It’s the perfect present he could give me, time with him. We took our annual photograph of him on the garden bench. We began this in 2002 and now, a different bench, but the same kid. The garden sure has also been transformed.

Added more shadowing to the center petals to begin to create dimension and depth.

My two-year-old grandson, CJ Ahern in 2002 sitting on the bench in the garden. He had been meandering through this garden since before he could walk.

This year’s photo has CJ sitting on the third version of the bench in front of the PJM Rhododendron we planted there years ago.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 21, 2026

There is a time in each of my paintings when it asks me to concentrate on details. In this painting, even though we’re not close to the end, I knew I wanted to begin addressing the details in the center of the flower. This is where the action takes place in all flowers and human growth. It’s where the pollen is formed and the pollinators fertilize the flowers which then creates seeds and in turn, is used to create the next generation of flowers. This is the continuation of the species. A very Darwinian moment.

The model I used for this dahlia painting was a photo I took of the dahlia with an unopened center. For each flower, the center changes every single day depending on the stage of fertilization, so there is no right or wrong. Plus, just like humans that all look different, so does each and every flower regardless of what cultivar or scientific name they have been given.

I worked on the center of the dahlia painting today, outlining it with Hansa yellow, Leaf green, and Permalba white to draw the petals.

This is a close-up of a photo I had taken a few years ago and used as a model for parts of this painting. The center looks like a sphere, but in reality, it is a grouping of unopened petals.

This is a close-up of the center of the painting. It is not this green, but I guess this is what my iPhone camera decided it looked like.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 20, 2026

I began unifying some of the colors in the dahlia painting in the studio today. I’m glazing the yellow and also the magenta petals with thin washes of different warm and cool greens. It is helping to tone down the magentas and give more shape and three dimensionality to the layers of petals. I also needed to recalibrate the center of the painting and redraw the inner circle since it had moved over to the left about ¾” from when I initially drew it. For this part of the work, I took out my drafting compass, centered the pin at the exact center of the canvas, then pulled the graphite at the end of the ruler in a circular motion to redraw the center of the flower. I have so many tools from many different parts of my life’s journey. I had this compass from some landscape design projects I did about 20 years ago. It still works and today it saved me time and made my day infinitely easier.

Now I’m trying to unify all the various colors and create some dimensionality in the petals. I’m using all the flower colors to create the abstract background.

The pin in the center of the red logo is where I place the center of the compass. There is a lever on the side to allow me to pull the measuring rod out and there is a holder for holding pencil lead or other drawing material to mark the circle on, in the case, my canvas. A very handy tool.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – April 13 – 19, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: The dahlia painting has kept me both challenged and intrigued this week. I’m working toward a rich palette of purples, magentas, yellow-greens, and lemon yellows, but the colors have had a mind of their own — veins of orange where I wanted yellow, a wet layer of Permanent Rose bleeding into a fresh glaze and shifting the color scheme entirely. A compositional reset required painting opaque white and lemon yellow to recenter the flowers, leaving the center flatter and bolder than I intend for now. The background is starting to reflect the color range I’m hoping for, but I’m still finding my way. On days when the dahlia was too wet to continue, I returned to the magnolia — rethinking its palette too, toning down an angry red and wondering if an entirely new color scheme is what it wants. Through all of it, I’ve been using digital tools to test color and composition before committing paint to canvas, a habit rooted in my decades with computer graphics.

In the garden, forsythia are singing, grape muscari are in bloom, the camellia is flowering beside its aluminum print twin, and four yards of mulch arrived exactly where I needed it. Two successes in one day — studio and garden alike.

Click here to read all the week’s Studio Glimpses

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 18, 2026

The palette I’m working towards is a rich range of purples, magentas, yellow greens and lemon yellows. Also, I worked on restoring the centering of the flowers in the middle of the canvas. I had to paint opaque white with some lemon yellow to cover the off-center lines, so now the center looks far more bold and flat than I intend. The background is starting to pick up the color range I’m hoping for, but I’m not satisfied at all yet.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 17, 2026

I’m still struggling with the color scheme on this painting. The yellows became far more orange than I was aiming for, and I’m trying to compensate with a compromise. I haven’t reached it yet, but I’m still trying to realize my goal. It’s so frustrating to work on this day after day and still not be satisfied.

In the garden, the camellia shrub is in bloom. This is the model for the camellia that I had printed on aluminum, which is in the distance in my photos. This weather-resistant print of my artwork has been hanging in the garden for years in all seasons. Both the actual camellia plant and the aluminum print prefer the shade to the blazing sun. As a matter of fact, so do I.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 16, 2026

Since the 1980s, I have been involved with computer graphics equipment. I sold the systems, demonstrated them, and founded a graphic design business using them, so I am extremely comfortable using technology in a variety of ways. With this painting, I’ve been using technology to test different treatments I want to try with oil paints on canvas before I squeeze paint out onto my glass palette. It is like sending a search party out on a trail or checking maps before committing to the entire journey. I try different color schemes and compositions. I believe that you have to use whatever tools make you the most creative. A computer, a stylus, and a drawing tablet work for me.

I’m still experimenting with color on canvas to see what makes my heart skip a beat.

Creating a painting for me isn’t a linear accomplishment. Beginning straight to the end. Instead, it is a series of potholes, detours, and do-overs. In Photoshop, I follow the day-to-day progress or lack of same from the photos I take every working day in the studio.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 15, 2026

Another interesting day in the studio. Since the dahlia painting was still wet from yesterday, I took it off the easel and put back the magnolia that I last worked on in March. That was when I overpainted it with thick impasto to cover up the irregularity in the canvas weave that had become more prominent each time I painted. Now that it is fully dry, I need to bring back the original composition. Now, I’m also rethinking the color palette I want to work with on this piece. It was a very angry red in the corners, and I’ve toned that down, but I imagine I might even go with a completely different color scheme.

In the garden today on this nice warm spring day, I had 4 yards of mulch delivered. The driver reminded me that he’d delivered it last year, after I’d had the deer fence put in. When he arrived, he couldn’t fit the truck into the garden since the fencing company hadn’t specified the gates to be wide enough for a pickup truck. I told him that after his problem with the delivery last year, I had the fence company install a second gate so I could get the mulch delivered in the garden and not on the road as they had to last year. He did a great job and was able to place it exactly where I wanted it now that the double gates are wide enough for his truck. Two successes today, one in the studio and one in the garden.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 14, 2026

Another beautiful and warm spring day that has me so happy after the long, icy winter we endured. Glad that is behind us for a while. Today I worked more on the background of the dahlia painting than the petals. I played with dioxazine purple and some Thalo green with white. Still not satisfied with the color palette colors but I’m enjoying the experimentation. I’m lowering the saturation in the most distant petals, so they’ll relate more with the atmosphere surrounding them and differentiate them from the closer petals.

In the garden, the Grape muscari are in bloom today. Every year when they bloom, they remind me of the digital imaging piece I made of them many moons ago. Prints of this artwork have been hanging in many homes over the years. As a matter of fact, they’re still for sale on my website under the link, Designer Prints.

Up close and personal, this early tiny spring flower as you’ve never seen it before, on a sharp black background.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 13, 2026

In the studio, I was glazing Cadmium yellow light and Titanium White over the dahlia petals to lighten the center. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the paint was still slightly wet when I worked on it, so the damp Permanent Rose tainted the new layer. Now I have an entirely new color scheme than what I was aiming for, and I’m trying to decide whether I like this direction or not. I keep walking past it to see it from different angles. I try to surprise myself by purposely not glancing at it and finally swinging my head around to catch it in a glance. The next few days of painting will be interesting since it will help to define what the painting wants to become.

On another note, this forsythia at the front of my driveway is singing songs of happiness to me this week.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – April 6 – 12, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up: This week in the studio began with a forced pause — four days under the weather meant trading the easel for the recliner. But rest has a way of feeding the creative mind, and scrolling through past art and garden photos brought both comfort and inspiration, including a rediscovered video from last year’s Women’s History Month. By week’s end, I was back in front of the dahlia painting, defining petals and leaning into the flower’s spiky, assertive character — a quality that felt exactly right to accentuate. Between studio sessions, the garden offered its own quiet rewards: the brash pink Rhododendron ‘Milestone’ cracking open for the season, lemon yellow Mahonia bealei in bloom, and a stunning Anemone mistral already making me think about the next painting. I also took a closer look at studio organization — the plastic storage bins that keep everything from framing hardware to watercolor supplies within easy reach, and the flowerpots filled with aquarium gravel that keep my brushes standing at attention, garden-style.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 11, 2026

Back in the studio again after a week of feeling under the weather, and I went back to working on the dahlia painting. I’m still defining the various petals. I don’t usually choose to paint flowers with harsh spikes, but at the moment, this felt like a feature that was right to accentuate. In my garden, the brash pink Rhododendron ‘Milestone’ is partially open. I bought this from the American Rhododendron Society in 2001. And yes, I have a database for my plants, too, like I have a database for my art. Different programs though.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 9, 2026

Studio Storage is complicated. Everything needs to be quickly accessible for different uses, and it has to be flexible. I have used these plastic storage bins for years. They come with wheels and some of them slide easily under my work tables. Each of them holds items that align with the table they’re under. The tall one is narrow enough to fit snuggly in between the doorway and the closet without me having to move anything. I bought them years ago at Target but I’m sure you can get them at many different locations that are convenient for you.

In this unit I store hammers, screwdrivers, rulers, various types of tape and glue, twine, rubber bands, compass devices and much more.

This unit is near where I do my drawings, watercolor and colored pencil work. It has all sorts of supplies to support the various mediums.

Under my mat cutting table, I keep all my framing materials. Drills and drill bits, D hooks & screws, wire, tape, a machine for inserting pins to hold prints & mats in place for mounting under glass.

Underneath my painting table is storage for different mediums for different types of paint. Regular oil paints and water-soluble oils. I have varnish materials too. In there are also paper palettes for the rare case when I’m not using my glass palette.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 6, 2026

I’m often asked about how I store & stage my brushes. Since I’m a gardener, I wanted to use flowerpots to hold my brush collection. I wanted to be able to easily get the brushes into the pots so they’d stand up and not flop over. I tried a variety of pebbles, beach sand, and driveway gravel. None of them worked well. But finally, I found that aquarium gravel is smooth, so it does not hurt the fish. With a bit of a poke, I could easily get the brushes in and out of the flower posts without damaging the handles or spreading gravel all over the table. I’ve been using this system for years and it makes me happy to have the garden spirit in the studio.

On my daily walk in the garden today I saw these lemon yellow Mahonia bealei flowers. Once the flowers get fertilized and are finished blooming, the seed pods turn a lovely color of Cerulean blue. Later in the summer, when the seeds are ripe, the birds take over that part of the garden and have a bacchanal style feast with all the squawking, squeaking, singing, and cackling you could possibly imagine. It’s quite fun to happen upon their party even when you haven’t been invited.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – March 30 – April 5, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up. A week of quiet courage and close looking. The boldest moment came when I turned a painting upside down and liked it better. A departure from my usual fully planned approach. The dahlia painting continued to evolve, with more value changes in the background, petal layers differentiated through saturation, and the addition of some Thalo Green and Permanent Rose. There was also one day, after hours in the studio, I forgot to take a photo of the painting, just captured the palette. Guess I was distracted.

In the garden, I paid close attention to the differences in tepal shape across several patches of Galanthus, AKA Snowdrops. The Jasminum nudiflorum is in bloom. A 25-year-old gift from Dr. Iversen at Farmingdale that is now trailing over a stone wall at my back entrance. The lilac colored Rhododendron mucronulatum finally opened, a little late this year. I cut back hellebores and cleared out a small birdhouse. Nice springtime tasks.

A small 1974 windmill painting, rediscovered years ago at my parents’ home, became the occasion for something larger, a reflection on what it truly means to be an artist. The garden, my own history, influences and experimentation all feed my work in the studio.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 4, 2026

I committed a radical act in the studio today. I turned the painting upside down to see the balance of the petals. And guess what! I liked it better that way so I worked on it the entire session, repainting the colors and petal structure. A great act of courage on my part. I usually have the entire composition worked out before I begin a painting and make minor adjustments along the way. This was a major change for me. And I’m so happy with the new look. There might be more of that in my future.

In the garden, I noticed that I have different types of Galanthus, AKA Snowdrops, in bloom at the moment. The petal structure is quite different in the closeup photos I took to try to identify them. On the web, I found a few sites that discuss the different varieties of Galanthus. These minor bulbs bloom so early in the season and so close to the ground that it takes some perseverance to notice the delicate differences. Well worth the trouble though.

In the studio today, I turned the painting I’ve been working on, upside down and had an epiphany. I liked it better. Time to start over. What fun!

There are subtle differences in the petal structure and growth patterns of the different types of Snowdrops. But you have to get way down to the ground to appreciate these little marvels.
Read more about Galanthus on Wikipedia here.

These Galanthus are from a large patch in my driveway garden bed. The tepals are more rounded than others that are in bloom in my garden. Such a welcome sign in the early spring.

I don’t even remember planting these Galanthus but they’re showing up outside of one of my garden beds in the walkway. Look how long the tepals are on this patch of bulbs.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 3, 2026

Today in the studio, I decided to add more depth by darkening some of the original abstract underpainting to make the dahlia pop. I also began differentiating the layers of petals using saturation. Saturation is defined by how bright the color is, not by how light. Lightness is defined by the value of a color. In the garden, I continued to cut back last year’s old and battered hellebore leaves. I usually have this done much earlier in the season, but this year that isn’t the case. Some of the newest hellebore cultivars have their flowers facing upwards so you can see them while walking through the garden. Formerly, your best view was to plant them on the top of a retaining wall since you needed to peer at them upwards to enjoy their delicate beauty.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 2, 2026

I can’t believe that I forgot to take a photo of the oil painting WIP on the easel today after working on it for hours in the afternoon. I have a photo of my palette, but not one of the current state of the painting. Too funny! I also have a photo of the side garden, which is currently filled with blue-blooming Chionodoxa, known as glory-of-the-snow, and assorted daffodil cultivars. This is the view from my kitchen window, and it changes all season depending on many factors. In the big planter, I have a curly willow planted in a pot within the big container since it would otherwise expand so big with sucker shoots that it could cause problems. I take cuttings to root for people who would enjoy having this plant. Notice also, on the garage wall, there are two aluminum prints of my artwork. Those aluminum prints have been hanging there for a few years now, and I get to enjoy them from the view inside my own home.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

April 1, 2026

In my studio today, I turned around from my easel and my eyes landed on this little 8×10” painting of a windmill. I came across this oil painting of mine when I was clearing out my parents’ home after they passed. I don’t remember actually painting this one, so I’m really glad I signed it and documented the date on the back, which states December, 1974. This was when I was taking my first oil painting classes at the local YMCA in Queens where I owned a house at the time with my then husband and two young sons. At the urging of the painting instructor and my friend, Roberta, I applied and was accepted into the City University of New York, and because there was, at that time, no tuition, I was able to go to college. My father, who was against educating women, did not understand why I wanted to go to college to study art, since he said I was a good enough artist already. What I didn’t know at the time, and certainly my father never did understand, was that being an artist is so much more than creating a painting. Every single aspect of my life has been enriched because I am an artist and a fully creative individual. Someday I’ll write an article about that. But if you read through these daily posts, you will see how everything I do, see, talk about, and engage with feeds into my studio life.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 31, 2026

A beautiful spring day. The first time the temps reached into the 70s for the season and the first day without a jacket. I strolled out to my garden to gain some calmness and inspiration. I always find myself calming down when I walk around my garden, seeing the many small changes each day. The Jasminum nudiflorum, commonly called winter jasmine, was in bloom. The lilac colored Rhododendron mucronulatum finally popped into bloom. It. Was a little later than usual. This plant was on the property when I bought the house in 1989, and I’ve moved it a few times, like I do with many of my plants. It loves where it lives now and so do I. In the studio, I immersed myself in another type of flower. This dahlia oil-painting is starting to come to life. It’s beginning to speak to me and tell me what it plans to be.

I was given this *Jasminum nudiflorum*, as a gift from Dr. Richard Iverson over 25 years ago when I was studying for my horticulture degree at Farmingdale College. I have it trailing over a stone wall at the back entrance to my home.

I emptied the little round birdhouse that was filled with small twigs from last year. At the very bottom was a tiny nest of delicate threadlike material. Now it’s ready for new tenants to move in.

I worked on the space-inspired background and began to add some Permanent Rose to the petals in today’s session in my studio.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 30, 2026

A beautiful spring day with temps in the 60s pushed me outside to do a bit of gardening. Spent time raking and cutting back old hellebore leaves. Spotted these Galanthus elwesii, AKA Snowdrops. Two weeks ago, they were still covered in snow, and today, they made my heart sing since they were dancing in the sunshine. I brought that sunshine into the studio where I continued to work on the dahlia painting. I’m trying to layer transparent paints to keep the brushwork of the lower layers showing through. We’ll see as time goes by whether I’ll be able to maintain that goal.

This Galanthus elwesii, AKA Snowdrops, lives on the north side of my driveway so the snow stays there the longest of all the other areas of my garden. Not too long ago, these cuties were still buried under a foot of snow. Look at them now, dancing in the sunshine.

I don’t usually choose flowers to paint that have points. I like rounded edges. But this dahlia spoke to me so I had to paint it.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio – March 22-29, 2026

Weekly Wrap-Up. This was a very diverse week. Started off with a problem with the weave on the canvas I’d been working on and did a major zig-zag to remedy the situation. Then, while that dries, I resumed work on another piece which will feature a spiky dahlia over a space inspired underpainting. In between all this, the garden is beginning to burst into bloom so my camera has resumed capturing the excitement. In the middle of the week I had a minor tweak on my eyelids to give me greater peripheral vision and then ended the week creating a poster supporting Basic Dignity & Decency that I showed at Democracy Corner in Huntington NY with thousands of others. Busy and important activities this week!

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 27, 2026

Before I went to the studio today, I took a walk in my garden to see what was new. I found that the first rhododendron is in bloom this year. It is the Rhododendron mucronulatum, ‘Cornell Pink”. Also, the Mahonia bealei has come into a full bloom of brilliant yellow. When the flowers have been fertilized, the seed pods turn blue. When they ripen in the summer, in one single day, the garden is chirping with flocks of birds gathering for a delicious lunch. And then they’re gone until next year. In the studio, I used a thin glaze of oil paint with a 50/50% Galgyd/Gamsol medium to begin to form the flower. This is a very exciting time for a painting. Nothing but possibilities are ahead of you and none of the mistakes or obstacles that whill show up later.

Painted some of the petals on the dahlia.

This Mahonia bealei was originally given to me by Dr. Iversen when I was studying with him at Farmingdale State for my horticulture degree over 25 years ago.

There is always a race to see which of my Rhodi mucronulatums will bloom first. I have a light purple one that was here when I bought my property in 1989. This is blooming quite late

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 26, 2026

Regardless of what medium I’m working in, I’m always creating. Today I created on the computer using both Photoshop and Procreate. I have a 30” square canvas that has the underpainting layer in abstraction, inspired by a space image posted on the NASA website. Using Photoshop, I was trying to decide which flower in my huge collection of photos I was going to use as the catalyst for the next stage of painting. I had imagined a rose and tried a few samples, but settled upon a dahlia instead. Using Procreate, I created a grid on my new image composition, then, using pastel, I replicated the grid on the canvas. From there, I was able to sketch in the center of the flower and then the petals. I’m so happy to be moving forward on this painting. I started it about a month ago and it’s been sitting patiently in the corner waiting for me until now. We are both heaving a sigh of relief on moving forward with this project.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 25, 2026

Nothing worries me more as an artist is how clearly I can see. This morning at 8 am I had minor eyelid surgery. I was home by 10 and began making this graphic to show you the immediate before-and-after. Since my eyelids were drooping so low over my eyes, the amount of light was diminished plus my upper peripheral vision was greatly reduced. This in-office procedure was carefully done with very minor discomfort. The stitches will be removed in a week. By the time I got home and started writing this and working in Photoshop to make the graphic from some photos, I could already see better. The amount of light I’m perceiving and the 360-degree view is dramatic. This is not considered cosmetic surgery, so it is covered by insurance. Just thought you’d like to know, yet another aspect of being an artist is a heightened sensitivity to seeing clearly.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 24, 2026

I made a big decision that might not work. When I opened the cellophane and unwrapped the canvas, I didn’t notice it at first, but once I began painting it became more obvious. There was a defect in the weave of the cotton canvas and with paint settling into the crevices, it became more difficult for me to overlook. So I decided to try an experiment. I squeezed big lumps of white paint onto my palette, and using a palette knife, began to apply the paint thickly to the canvas near where the problem is. Then I feathered out the paint to the edges of some of the petals it will be affecting. Now, it will have to dry for quite a few days before I can return to the painting. I don’t know if I’ll like the outcome, but I’m curious to see what it looks like once I return to the work. It’s just another challenge to work with.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

This Week in the Studio March 15 – 21, 2026

This week I wrote about some of the systems I’ve developed over decades that keep me organized and productive in the studio. My documenting and writing help to keep my work grounded. It focuses me on what I’ve done and where I’m headed. Midweek, I attended a lecture at the New York Botanical Garden, which brought back my horticultural roots in the best way, followed by a walk through the Orchid Show, where I found inspiring new specimens for paintings. On the easel this week I was in conversation with a magnolia painting that hasn’t yet decided what it wants to be. That’s where the most interesting work happens.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 22, 2026

From yesterday to today, I made some dramatic changes. This isn’t at all definitive as to where this painting is heading, it’s just another step in the journey. I work mostly with fan brushes and a thin 50/50% galgyd/gamsol medium. Mostly, I glaze layer over layer trying to always retain a bit of whatever preceded it. This gives me the opportunity for subtle brushwork and tinting. Glazing presents a variety of benefits and deficits, but it is my preferred method. Also, by using a very thin medium, I’m usually able to paint each day which, if I painted impasto or used other thicker mediums, I would not be able to do.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 21, 2026

I’ve been working on this Magnolia painting and it hasn’t yet decided what it wants to be. Usually, when I start a piece, I’m in charge of deciding the composition and color palette. During the process, the control shifts and the painting begins to determine its final outcome. I photograph my work every night after I’ve finished painting for the day. I also write in a journal, what I worked on that day, what colors, technique, where and how long. I guess you figured out that I like documenting things.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 13, 2026

There are so many different supplies that I use in different parts of the work I create in my studio. Over the decades, I’ve worked in such a large array of mediums that I have accumulated many supplies, some of which I use frequently, and others rarely. I don’t even come close to having everything available but I have more than enough, at least for now that is. Some of the sprays are for fixing powdery mediums like pastels and charcoal. Other are for gluing. Some for thinning oil paint, others for spraying carton labels to look like cardboard, to reuse the boxes for shipping. There are glues and glue removers. Varnishes and varnish removers. I have Windex to clean glass and other sprays to clean all the other furniture surfaces. I’m an artist that needs orderliness to work in. Not all artists work like that, some make their best work in chaos. That’s NOT me!

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 12, 2026

I decided while working on the painting that I wanted to go with a completely different color palette than I’d originally imagined. This happened since I wanted to make the space-inspired background, a fiery swirl of dark red emotions. This will change the whole piece since the flower colors will also change. My show at the Ceres Gallery in November will be titled, Centering in the Midst of Chaos. So, I wanted to create some chaos for the flower in order to present the contrast. At this point, I don’t know what the flower will look like by the time I reach the end and sign the painting. That’s because part of the painting is driven by me and part of it by the painting itself. Still, very much a mystery to me where it’s headed.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 10, 2026

Since the 1980s, I’ve worked with computers to create art. I sold computer graphics systems to the broadcast television industry. These were electronic paint systems and character generators used for titling. Since then, I’ve continued to create comfortably with computers with a variety of programs, one of which is, of course, Photoshop. Although all my work is now created on canvas with oil paints and brushes, I usually try out compositions and color ideas in Photoshop. Most often, I just find it easier to experiment with pixels rather than paint. It doesn’t mean that I copy exactly what I’ve seen on my computer screen, it’s more like a general idea of treatments I might experiment with This lets me arrive at conclusions more quickly. It’s a workflow I’m most comfortable working in. Probably unusual for many artists who are doing oil paintings but because of my background, it works well for me.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 3, 2026

Walking the trails in the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden, I came upon this colorful bed of early spring blooming poppies. They were cheerful to see. But what really interested me were the closeup centers that attract pollinators and where the details and nuances of the individual flowers are on full display. These poppies are harbingers of the season and a talisman of continuing life.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 2, 2026

At the botanical garden in Santa Barbara, California, I stumbled upon this spiral labyrinth with a seating feature. Different than a maze since, it is not meant to offer different paths but a place to meditate while walking to the center and back. This configuration reminded me of the Fibonacci series of numbering I had embedded in a spiral over and around the image of a nautilus shell I had digitally imaged. This shell is also a representation of the Fibonacci series. The Fibonacci numerical sequence is created by adding the two numbers preceding it. For instance, 0 + 1=1. From there the numbers continue on to infinity, 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13, etc. This configuration is found often in nature, like this nautilus shell and also in the center of sunflower.

This small labyrinth is probably more for sitting and meditating rather than walking. Although, there seems to be much foot traffic based upon the soil .

After digitally creating this nautilus shell, I applied the Fibonacci series of numbers over and under the image. The shell is also a representation of this numerical system.

In nature, there are many representations of the Fibonacci series. This sunflower is one of them.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

March 1, 2026

Visiting the Getty in Los Angeles can give you floral envy if you’re from the New York area like me. While the LA gardening zone is listed as 10B, which means they don’t usually have temps below 30 degrees Fahrenheit, which is below freezing, where I am in NY, it is Zone 7, where we do freeze. Seeing the Leucospermum in the gardens in LA, gave me a jolt until I realized that I grow specimen Chrysanthemums I love which bloom late through October-November, extending the blooming season considerably for me. Some tropicals I grow in my garden and then overwinter in my former root cellar/darkroom, now redesigned as a plant room, is cool in the winter but never freezes. Some plants overwinter well, others don’t. I might try the Leucospermum one year. Until then, I’ll stick with my Chrysanthemums.

This stunning flower is a Leucospermum. It is a photo I took at the Getty in LA in February.

Learn more about these flowers on Wikipedia

In order to get rather close to the effect of the Leucosperman from South Africa, I am able to grow specimen Chrysanthemums. They bloom late in the season in my Zone 7 garden on Long Island, NY. I buy cuttings from, Kings Mums plus I overwinter my plants & root cuttings in the spring.

Leucospermum growing in the February garden at the Getty in LA Calif.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 28, 2026

Living in New York with our Zone 7 climate, the only Birds of Paradise I see are in greenhouses since they’re tropical plants and would not survive in our Northeastern winter freezing temperatures. I’ve only seen them as specimen plants but since I’m currently visiting California, I was surprised to see these stunning flowers growing in abundance in many of the parking lot islands throughout the shopping areas. They sure add a cheerful note to the landscape. I have often thought of featuring one of these flowers in a painting, but generally, I don’t like to paint such aggressive and angular forms. I lean toward the soft feminine rather than the angular male imagery. But the colors in the Bird of Paradise, AKA Strelitzia reginae are so stunning, one day I’ll be compelled to paint them.

I took the photo in a parking lot in a shopping center in Santa Barbara California. I’d never seen this flower untl now as a commonly grown mass planting.

This spectacular Bird of Paradise as an individual specimen begs to become an inspiration to one of my studio paintings. I took this photo at the Getty in LA.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 27, 2026

As an avid gardener, and also a person with a degree in horticulture with a specialty in landscape design, I was so impressed with the gardens at the Getty in California. They are works of art, no less than the work hanging on the walls indoor in the museum. If you know my work, you may also know my affinity for circles. You can imagine how much my heart leapt for joy when I saw the spiral plantings in the pond garden designed by Robert Irwin. All my work is inspired by gardens, mine and others. Having just come to California from a blizzard in New York, which dumped a foot and a half of snow in my garden, these sights of spring made my heart sing for joy.

This garden was designed by Robert Irwin and is a centerpiece in the central garden at the the Getty in LA.

These gorgeous bougainvillea are trained into tree plantings with the assistance of rebar. They are sculptures in nature.

These small succulent plantings display patterning and texture. They remind me of the embroidery of my Dutch aunts using thread and a variety of stitching patterns.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 26, 2026

One of the things I do as an artist, is look at the work of other artists. I study their use of paint, thick/thin, wash or impasto. The types of brushstrokes, bold, tight, long, short. The way they their edges meet, sharp or diffused. I also look at their palettes, the selection of colors which often set the mood of a painting. Each painter has their own signature in the way they apply paint. It’s just like a non-artist’s signature, none of them are ever the same. There are endless lessons to be learned by studying closely the work of other artists. These works were at the Getty in Los Angeles, California.

There is so much I like in van Gogh’s work and also so much that doesn’t resonate with me. We don’t share at all the treatment of paint. But we do share the fact that we’re both Dutch and love flowers.

The only painting we usually see by Edvard Munch is “The Scream”. But, as I looked closely at the surface of this painting, I related so closely to the thinness of his washes of pigment. They were so subtle and beautiful up close.

I love that museums now post information about the paintings and the artists. When I started going to museums, that was not the norm. Museums didn’t cater to educating their visitors. Now everyone can learn so much more about the artist and the work with the information posted with each painting.

Sorolla used such a quick way of capturing fleeting moments in his art. He has such a virtuosity with paint that he captures very quickly the subtleties and the moments of what he is sharing with us.

Sorolla seemed to have little patience for long, drawn-out, detailed work. The speed in which he seemed to work always has impressed me, and given me a goal to work towards. I too am not very patient.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 25, 2026

Sometimes you have an opportunity to travel for a few days to attend an event and take a mini-vacation. Since the blizzard and continuing freezing temperatures we’ve had this year in NY, I’m lucky to be attending an event in California. The temps in NY have been in the 20s and 30s during the day and here right now where I am in CA it is in the 70s & 80s during the day and 50s in the evening. What a delightful difference!

Just north in LA, I stopped to spend a few hours at the J. Paul Getty Museum. It is an architectural marvel, an inspiring garden and a museum with significant artwork. I spent some time in the Impressionist section plus time with their two Turners. Berthe Marisot was represented with her painting, The Shuttlecock, which she painted in 1841 in Paris. It exhibits her trademark loose and immediate brushwork that she paints with bravado. The delicate palette spoke to me and was perfect for this painting of a young girl inviting you into her life. As an artist, I continually study art history and techniques in museums and books. It gives me inspiration and helps me to develop my eye and to view different methods of expression. Museums are great research institutions for artists.

Looking closely at the brushwork shows the immediacy of her work. She shows confidence in her decisions.

The rather small painting is displayed with an ornate frame as was usual for this era and type of work.

Berthe’s signature is found at the bottom left of the painting.

This is the wall plaque with information about the painting and the painter.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 24, 2026

During the winter, one of the treats is having my Amaryllis come in bloom after the holidays are over and before the spring starts to pop color. I’ve had these two plants for a few years. Each of my amaryllis bulbs spends its summer outside in my garden, but still in its pot. They prefer to be snug rather than planted in big spaces. I keep them in the dark in my plant room until I put all the holiday decorations away. Then, I bring them into the dining room where they get southern sun through the windows and they begin to come back to life. Oh, and BTW, their real name isn’t Amaryllis, it’s Hippeastrum.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 23, 2026

I’m really getting tired of winter. For the last few years, we haven’t had much snow in my Long Island area. This year, I can’t say that again. The hours I spend in the studio each day, bring me back to the other happy three seasons I enjoy here in the Northeast of the US. Today, I overpainted the center of the iris painting with opaque pigment since I wanted to try a different treatment. Now have to wait for the paint to dry before I can work on it again.

Snow scene — This is the view on my deck after the latest snowstorm. Notice how nice the aluminum print of one of my artworks looks hanging on the oak tree. It’s a well needed accent of color in the dead of winter. These aluminum prints are available on my website and last for many years through all seasons.

This is the latest stage of my circular painting. I keep changing the center, but haven’t yet been satisfied with the outcome. I’ll keep trying new styles until I find one that makes my heart sing.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 22, 2026

Since I am very comfortable with technology, I use different programs where it makes me more efficient and productive. I’ve always used a grid system to upsize my drawings to canvas. Now I use Procreate in that capacity. Once I finished the composition in Photoshop, I imported the file into Procreate on my iPad and created a grid. Then, on the underpainting, I use pastel to transfer the grid and flower outline to the canvas. Using a wash of Titanium White and 50/50 Galgyd/Gamsol to continue to my painting process.

Composition in Procreate with grid lines.

First I use a T-square to replicate the grid in Procreate. Using pastels I draw the outline of the flower.

Using a thin wash of Titanium White, I paint the flower outline with impromptu changes as I view it on the canvas

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 21, 2026

Today I began painting the color scheme for the underpainting using some of the inspiration from the space image I’d selected. My medium is a recipe of 50/50 Galgyd/Gamsol which I applied to the Cadmium Red, Naples Yellow Light, Titanium White, and Cadmium Yellow light paints onto the pre-primed cotton duck canvas. I love painting with fan brushes and used my largest #12 Simmons for layer over layer over layer of color. The freedom at this stage of the painting when there are no lines or images to acknowledge give me so much enjoyment. My glass palette is next to me on a white ceramic table that has lived with me in various roles for decades. Many dinners were served on it in past lives.

Adding some color to the canvas as the underpainting. This is a 36×36″ square canvas.

I’ve never had this happen before with these brushes but I can’t say that anymore. I’ll contact the manufacturer and see if they’ll replace it. Brushes aren’t inexpensive.

This is the corner of the table where I dip my brushes into these mixtures and mediums. It has a nice crusty look to it doesn’t it!

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 20, 2026

I always work on my compositions on my computer since that’s the most efficient way for me to create. Since I’ve been working with computer graphics systems since the early 1980s, I am completely comfortable and also very open to experimentation on my computer. Since I want to make a square painting, I cropped the flower in multiple ways and finally decided on this treatment. Then I tried many combinations of images I have from NASA and selected the color treatment I wanted for the painting. Using masking in Photoshop, I added the space imagery behind the flower to give me an idea of how that would look. I liked the outcome and will use this as my model.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 19, 2026

When choosing a flower from my large collection of flowers in my Photos app, it takes quite some time for me to come down to a final selection. A few considerations I’m faced with are, what colors are interesting to me at the moment? What haven’t I explored before? Will I want to stand in front of this flower for endless hours? And is this choice something I would be proud of for eternity? I came across these photos I’d taken of a Southern Magnolia tree at the Clark Botanic Garden in Albertson on Long Island. The subtle smoothness of the petals, along with the striking center, stole my heart. I made a decision that this is what I’ll be working on next.

I don’t have many Magnolia photos to choose from, but all of them are inspirational to me.

This is my choice for the model for my next painting. I’m excited to begin.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 18, 2026

For the last 35 years that I’ve been creating and maintaining my garden, I’ve taken many thousands of photos. In my Mac Photos app, I have sorted them into garden photos, flower photos, closeups of flowers and then into closeups of individual flowers. This collection is the backbone of my art. It is the inspiration behind all my paintings. Now that I’m planning my next painting, I again returned to my collection for inspiration.

This is part of my sorting system in my Photos app on my Mac which I use to find the inspiration for my paintings. Each category has multiple images.

These are some of the images of photos I’ve taken and added to my Tropicals category.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 17, 2026

I do quite a bit of planning before starting new paintings. I have a large collection of images from the NASA Astronomy Photo of the Day website. I use these images as inspiration for the underpaintings on which I’ll then paint my flowers. The images of the cosmos are so inspiring to me. They help me to keep in perspective the chaos we too often live with. These images help ground me in reality and give me comfort. They are an important part of the thoughts I embed in all my art.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 16, 2026

Another day in the studio working on the center of this painting. I decided to add some detail to the center of the seed pods, which is what happens as they mature in size. For years, I studied and worked in botanical illustration, but I’m not aiming for accuracy in my current work. I am interpreting what I see and know about flowers, but I don’t want to reproduce them in paint. I am instead trying to provoke thought and conversation about their and our purpose and place in the universe.

Today I decided to add some detail to the center of the seed pods. It’s a beginning, not an end.

By adding more detail to the center of the flower, it will be more visible from a distance.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 15, 2026

When I stood back this morning to look at the painting I worked on yesterday, it didn’t seem so very different. But when I walked up for a closeup, I didn’t like the pollen I’d sprinkled. So, during this painting session, I overpainted the center. It wasn’t that easy since I paint in thin washes of color, so it took quite some time to erase the dots. Glad I use a quick drying medium recipe so I can work on the painting everyday.

In this painting session, I overpainted the pollen from the previous day and added some more purple to the base of some of the stamens.

Color accuracy in my iPhone photos is not consistent. You can see the difference in the closeup on the left to the colors on this photo.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 14, 2026

The way a painting looks is so very different based on the distance you stand from the work. I wanted to paint the center sprinkled with the pollen that falls from the ends of the stamens. Depending on the age of the flower, the pollen changes color and texture. I’m not trying to make a botanically accurate painting, but one that speaks in rhyme about the anatomical parts of flowers. Only the center in this painting is based on flowers.

By the end of my studio time, I wasn’t convinced that I was happy with this pollen treatment in the center. I’ll take another look tomorrow.

This is the center of an aging Peony center.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 13, 2026

Looking for inspiration for the center of my painting, I isolated various peony centers from my photo collection. As with all of nature, including humans, no two flowers look the same. There are infinite ways to visualize the life-affirming reproductive centers of flowers. Time of day, whether the flower has been fertilized, and the length of time since blooming, all affect the structure. I decided to interpret in paint the seed pods of tree peonies since they are so dominant and visually striking.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 12, 2026

Each time I finish a piece of artwork regardless of what medium I’ve used, I document the work. I call this “productizing”. Each piece is given an Index number that will follow it throughout it’s existence. It title the work and at times the name has changed but the Index number never does. I use apps to track the work and a spreadsheet for quickly looking up the details of the work. The process I use is one I’ve developed over decades.

Since I’m always running out of wall space, each time I complete another painting, I rehang my studio. I’m deciding where to move my paintings to so for the moment, they’ll just gather together in the corner of my studio.

One of the ways I document my work, keep track of where it is located and what exhibitions I’ve placed the work in is Arwork Archive. I’ve used it for many years and it has been a terrific app to help me stay organized. I highly recommend the product. ArtworkArchive.com

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 11, 2026

Today was one of those days when nothing remarkable happened in the studio today so I’m showing you some of the ugly but important views. There are some things that either make working somewhat less challenging and others that are a necessary component of the process of painting. Since I stand when I paint, the foam mats I have on the floor in front of my easel help ease the pain on my legs and back as I stand and move back and forth to view from different distances what I’m working on. On the table, next to my glass palette are the jars holding my mediums and brush cleaners. The mediums are what help me to control how thick or thin I apply the paint and is a critical part in the look and style of my work.

The foam mat I use in front of my easel is something I bought online. It’s a series of jigsaw like squares that link together. I used two layers of them to give. me the sponginess I was hoping for to relieve the pain of standing for hours.

Every artist has their own mediums and. materials they use to create their work. I am no different. I have recipes of the different products and amounts of each to create the mediums I use at each stage of my paintings.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 10, 2026

I had read somewhere that the irises of our eyes are like fingerprints, none of them are alike. This intrigued me, so when I stumbled upon a business that photographed your irises, I handed over my charge card. The setup was just like going to the ophthalmologist for an eye exam. I put my chin in a cupped holder facing a large piece of equipment, which was the camera equipment. The camera was moved into position very close to each of my eyes. It took longer to write up the order than it took to take the image. Later, I received an email with a download link to retrieve the digital images of my irises.

As expected, my right and left eyes didn’t match, although they had mostly the same colors. For my upcoming show in NYC in November, I decided to make a painting inspired by my irises. Those iris photos are the inspiration for the painting that is currently on my easel.

I haven’t matched the blue of my eyes since that wasn’t my goal. Today I began adding some of the neutral highlights that distinguish each eye.

I’m using fan brushes to scumble the paint, keeping the edges soft and blended.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 9, 2026

There are more tools that you need in the studio besides paint and brushes. After you finish a painting, there are additional tasks that need attending. One of them is preparing the painting for hanging on the walls. For that, one needs what’s called D hooks with screws, a ruler and marker to know where to put the screws & hooks, a drill to make holes in the wooden stretchers & tighten the. screws, wire to string from the D hooks, and a wire cutter for obvious reasons. I’m glad I found a very lightweight battery-operated drill quite a while ago, since it’s easy to handle and less dangerous around delicate artwork.

Another thing I do when I finish a painting is to write the Index # I’ve assigned to the artwork, the title, size, and medium. I also write the “© Mary Ahern” copyright insignia and sign my official signature on the wooden stretcher bars at the back of the canvas.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 8, 2026

Today was a day for planning on where I was heading for a painting I’d started. I had plans in my mind about what I was imagining would work but I had some hesitation. So I decided to try a few potential solutions on my computer rather in my studio with paint. Having worked with computer graphics since the early 1980s, I’m very comfortable, let’s say, extremely comfortable, working out compositing issues and possibilities with pixels.

First I headed to my photo library on my Mac for candidates, then brought them in to Photoshop to try them out. It quickly became apparent to me that the intial vision I had for the painting wasn’t going to make me happy so I zigged and zagged into a completely different direction. By testing solutions in this way, I saved myself many hours, days and potentially weeks trying choices with canvas and paint. Now, I know what will work for me and I will just be able to move forward towards that goal.

In my photos app on my Mac, I’ve been taking photos in my garden for over 30 years so as you can imagine, I have thousands to choose from. Many of these photos are closeups. To make it easier to view them, I’ve made albums of the varieties so I can more easily make choices of candidates for my artwork.

Since I wanted to see how just the centers of the flowers would look on a circular canvas, once I made a few selections from my collections, I zoomed in and cropped them into circles. This is such a comfortable workflow for me.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 7, 2026

In the studio today I painted another thin layer of oil paint on what will be the underpainting of my next painting. An assortment of blues, along with a green and an ochre, helped to add some interest to the background of the painting that will eventually be painted over by my next flower interpretation. The paint was applied by an assortment of Simmons bristle fan brushes of different sizes.

The other project in the studio has been deciding on the name for my latest painting. When I started it, I used orange Clivia flowers for inspiration. When I found them less than inspiring, I switched to some orange double hibiscus. With a mind of its own, the painting decided it would rather be shades of pink and purple. Now, I’m working on picking a name for the painting. Any ideas?

The pigments I’m using on this underpainting are, Ultramarine Deep, Thalo Blue, Cerulean Blue, Cobalt Turquoise, Courbet Green & Titanium White. The inspiration for this is imagery from the NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day website.

I was planning on titling this painting Cosmic Orange Hibiscus but by the time I finished the piece, it decided it wanted to be a different color. So now I’m thinking of titling the painting, Cosmic Pink Hibiscus. What do you think?

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 6, 2026

Busy today in the studio working on 3 different paintings. I oiled out the just completed hibiscus painting with a recipe of 50% Galgyd/Gamsol. I pour the mixture onto the flat canvas, use a large brush to spread it, and to get even, full coverage. After 5 minutes, I rub the surface of the canvas with a Viva soft paper towel to buff the extra mixture off and create a mild but even glow.

The second painting had me sketching in the outline of the flower using pastel that I’ll be painting over the initial layers on the round canvas. And the third project was unwrapping and gently sanding a fresh 30×30″ canvas. Then I began brushing on the beginning of an underpainting using an image from NASA as inspiration. I love being productive!

Three painting is different levels of completion. Left to right, hibiscus painting is nearing completion, the circular painting is drying for the next stage, and the new canvas on the easel has a first coat of underpainting.

Ready to unwrap a new 30×30″ gallery wrapped canvas. I like using the thick stretcher bars to give the paintings added strength.

Sanding the surface with a fine sandpaper block takes off just enough of the roughness to the gessoed surface of the new canvas. I always do this before I begin painting.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 5, 2025

On my YouTube Channel I have a playlist titled, Take a Minute. These are short videos that offer a brief sanctuary from the rush of daily life. These short videos provide a meditative pause—a moment to breathe, reflect, and find calm amid the chaos. Let yourself settle into stillness and allow space for healing.

This is the video I made in the studio today.

Click here to visit my YouTube channel.

These daily studio notes lead toward my 2026 solo exhibitions in New York City and Poughkeepsie, NY.

February 4, 2026

Ever sign a painting, only to discover you missed a spot? That was me today. I work on gallery-wrapped canvas and paint all the edges to skip framing, but when I lay my ‘finished’ piece flat, there it was—one unpainted bottom edge staring back at me. Matching the colors and brushstrokes was trickier than expected. Good thing I keep detailed notes on each painting!

February 3, 2026

Another day in the studio working on the underpainting. Played with a variety of blues, the turquoise, the ones that lean towards green and the warmer blues. Played with the values by adding bits of white to lighten, burnt umber to darken. Muted the blues with a bit of yellow ochre and added highlight oranges with Winsor yellow deep. Worked with a variety of bristles, sable, and fan brushes to vary the mark-making.

February 2, 2026

Today I took delivery of a new canvas and began a new painting. There weren’t many places for me to buy a 36″ round canvas but I found this one online at Dick Blick. It came boxed very carefully, I’m glad to say. My first concern is finding the center and creating the correct proportions for the underpainting. I dug out a compass from my wayback stash and it was the perfect solution. Then I proceeded to put the first layer of oil paint down. Very productive day in the studio!

Take a peek at this short video for studio glimpse!