Viburnum, more accurately the snow ball bush, is among the spring bloomers in the garden. Each year I can hardly wait for its round blossoms in form of small snow balls. Odorless, they would appear almost apple green at the beginning and day by day they turn more and more white. It can be the spring summer light, of their botanical properties, I don’t know, but the viburnum blossoms finally turn out crisp white, like snow, contrasting the blue April or May skies. Even the end of blossoming period is spectacular, milliards of small white patches cover the grass beneath the bush, appearing as fresh snow falling down from nowhere.
My Viburnum bouquet painting is just one more from the painting series “From my window”. For as new blossoms appear in the garden I have to pick them for a vase, just to take the bouquet to my painting studio. And later I always find myself painting them. Which I love doing, I have to admit. Especially as it turns out it is not just still life painting depicting nature morte per se. No, on the contrary, it always is much more. Basically it appears to be a sort of a visual diary, mirroring the feelings of the day. There are days when skies seem dark blue, there are days when sky appears almost greenish and there are days with small white cumulus-es over the almost turquoise painted sky. And always all those colors reflect to color the flowers on my table near the window. Which is rather interesting as it’s always been assumed blossoming flowers have their own colors. Yes, they do, to a certain extent, but majority of colors painting a bouquet would always come from the sky and from the sun and from the greenery of the hills seen from my window. Which all, consequently appear to be the colors of the mood of the day. So you can see all those colors in my painting Viburnum. Crisp white blossoms resembling snow balls are white, yes. But they are also extremely full of colors, colors of the sky, garden, hills. Just all the colors I love so much I have to paint them day after day. For the world is a miracle to see!
Wiburnum on my window Tamara Jare contemporary still life
By the Window, oil on canvas painting was made this spring. I’ve visited an old building, quiet a special place. A window with white curtains was opened in the kitchen, sipping first spring sunlight into a rather dark place. And the flowers on the old blue table seemed even brighter, sending joy of spring into modest hose…….
White Roses on my Window, Tamara Jare, oil on canvas, 50 x 70cm
New painting, just finished still life painting, White Roses on my Window, oil on canvas, 50x70cm. Currently working hard on a special project, yet this crisp white roses bouquet was just too appealing painting motif to let it fade away…..now back to my project 😉
A small pine tree trimmed as bonsai has captured my attention. There is all the beauty of a real grown up tree caught in a bonsai tree, put on a display to admire. And one can admire the nature of the tree species itself. Yet also the virtue of the one growing the bonsai. Painting this still life I’ve used vivid color palette.I wanted to catch the wonderful natural colors of a pine tree (Pinus sylvestris). And I’ve tried to make it really simple, just not to take any attention away from the simple meditative beauty of a small bonsai tree..
“There are no borders in bonsai. The dove of peace flies to palace as to humble house, to young as to old, to rich and poor. So does the spirit of bonsai.” ― John Yoshio Naka
This double portrait was painted after a vintage photography from the family album. Two kids I’ve never known. From distant times almost no one remembers by now. But their appearance has settled in my subconsciousness. Merging with my childhood memories and distant pictures from times passed away many years ago. And it was this reminiscence of the distant childhood, so different yet so similar to the childhood today, that I was working on. Many things may change but childhood memories stay. They stay with the most beautiful light of the garden in spring, in the most beautiful colors, telling us the story of all the childhoods yet to come, remembering all the kids we once were, playing in the garden…..
In the garden Tamara Jare portrait painting, oil on canvas, 70 x 100 cm (27,5 x 39,4 inches)
Some quotes about childhood:
For me, however, that beloved, glowing little word happiness has become associated with everything I have felt since childhood upon hearing the sound of the word itself. Hermann Hesse
I think it’s a great tragedy of childhood that you only really appreciate it once it’s done: it’s very hard to feel appreciative of the gifts you have until you’re gone. Greta Gerwig
I always remember my childhood house with happy memories. There was a beautiful garden, and outside my bedroom window was a jasmine vine which would open in the evenings, giving off a divine scent. Carolina Herrera
“Childhood is the one story that stands by itself in every soul.” ― Ivan Doig, The Whistling Season
“I remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live and what time the birds awaken in the summer — and what trees and seasons smelled like — how people looked and walked and smelled even. The memory of odors is very rich.” ― John Steinbeck, East of Eden
From my studio Tamara Jare still life painting oil on canvas
From my studio is my first painting freshly finished in 2020. And I am happy with it. Mostly so as here I’ve painted all what I hope to be with me well on into New year. Window with a view. Colors. Art. Painting. Literature. Nature. And a cup of coffee.
Window with a view at the painting happens to be the actual window in my art studio. I am happy and grateful I have a place to work. View from this window has appeared in several paintings of mine, especially so as it is really a part of my world perception. How many times have I, from the childhood on, looked trough this window. With my gaze resting on near by hills, forest, gardens, sky. Thinking about my work. So this is the window I’ve painted here, together with the view, the nature and the blue sky I love so much. Yet I take window as a symbol , too. What would an artist be without a view, view in a symbolic, broader sense? Without broad sight no art is possible.
Colors have been part of mine since I do remember. My early memories are panopticum of colors. I’ve grown up in an art studio and there have always been colors in physical sense around me. And there has been a lot of conversation about colors all the time. I find color even in nuances of black or white, but couldn’t live without all the colors a sunny day brings. Or a rainy day. Absolutely does not mater as long as there are colors. For my perception of the world is trough the chromatic values of the visible spectre.
Art. Art as the highest and purest form of communication. Painting being the art I live for. Represented with the palette on this still life. .
Literature makes me happy since I’ve learn to read and write. Among the books on the pile is I Ching I’ve got from my parents, for my 20th birthday. One of the books that have shaped me and my life.
Nature helps me survive. Creating art or even life itself can get exhausting but a walk in the forest instantly gives me energy. Or an hour spent in the garden. Or painting flowers. And as it gets so interwoven I’ve painted the colors on the palette to resemble the nature. Equally the color of the drapery on the table is meant to bring greenery of the nature inside the studio. And to ask us: where all these colors came from, where the view leads us, what is reality and what is the painting?
A lot of sentences for a modest art blog like mine. Time for a cup of coffee served in vintage porcelain over the pile of books in the studio. What the 2020 will bring ? A broad view on art from my studio would just do it!
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