Rain on the Beach, daily painting by Everglades artist Jo-Ann Sanborn

Rain at the Beach, 2017, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on archival board, 5" x 7"

If you're not careful, your walk on the beach could end up a drenching--because in South Florida, when it rains, it pours. Still, the light is fabulous, and everywhere you turn you can see something magical.  Just the place for a landscape painter to be! 

Snowman #4, daily painting by Everglades artist Jo-Ann Sanborn

 

Snowman #4, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on archival board, 5"x7"

 

 

I'm hoping you had a nice weekend.  My Thanksgiving was lovely, with family the highlight of a very quick trip to New England. The weather was perfect and travel was easy.  There was enough warmth from the morning sun to make a walk through the woods in November a real pleasure, even for someone now from Florida.  There were still some leaves on the trees, and the woods were full of the glorious golds and browns of Autumn.  

 

I flew back in time for the Snowman Extravaganza, with weather cool enough to enjoy the hot spiced wine and cookies. The Snowmen were all quite different, and it was interesting to hear just which ones appealed to the various customers.  Some were treasured for being different, and some folks only wanted the most traditional. 

 

There are some not yet adopted, and I'll be putting them up on the blog in the next few days.  If you see one you like, you can purchase it by coming into the Studio, calling me, or going to my gallery at Daily Paintworks online. 

If you are not yet sick of Snowmen yet, or want to delight the children, you might want to make some Melted Snowmen Cookies.  Thanks to cyber friend artist Kelly MacDonald for the tip. 

Dear Artist Colony Artists, and Quiet Shore daily painting by Everglades artist Jo-Ann Sanborn

Quiet Shore, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on board, 7"x5"

Dear Artist Colony Artists

Some of you greeted me with skepticism years ago when I came to the Alyson Stanfield Art Marketing salon meeting with the idea of sharing vacant retail space. Once the structure and facts were in place you jumped in, so did other artists and the rest is history! We had three wonderful years as an Artist Colony at the Esplanade on Marco Island.
 

When the new owners took over last spring, change was in the air. They aren't local, didn't have the same attitude of support for the arts, didn't understand our structure, and didn't seem to care. It was clear our days at the Esplanade were numbered.  At each of our meetings we discussed "being ready" and "having a plan" even though we had no idea when the ax would fall. Having potential tenants tour the spaces reinforced those feelings.

I considered what my personal plan might be. Moving with the other artists, back to street shows, try to find a gallery, sell more on line, work the Farmers market? None were as attractive to me as staying at the Esplanade, even my dear Bob and I spoke about it. Could I work out the finances? I decided to investigate the possibility by talking with the rental agent. I only needed a small space, but the rental agent was discouraging, not sure the owners wanted an artist tenant.

Last Monday, an email arrived offering me a place at the Esplanade, and urging me to act quickly with an October 1 deadline.  Since I wasn't about to displace the other artists, a quick call with questions about the Artist Colony made it clear that yes, we were all to be out, and by Oct 1.  New tenants will be moving in.  The sky had fallen, and without warning!

I will make a break with the Colony and independently stay at the Esplanade, providing the lease, which I haven't seen yet, is acceptable.  I'm excited to be staying at that location, but the move will be bittersweet with the other artists searching for new space. 

As we all move on, each with our own plan and to our own arts future, let's not lose sight of the fact that the Artist Colony at the Esplanade was a unique and a special moment in time and place. Working together wasn't always easy, but learning to work out our differences made us better people. And it worked!

Each one of you brought something special to the table. You helped to define Marco Island as a place friendly to the arts.  You gave citizens and visitors alike a wide variety of art to enjoy and to purchase.  You brought your creativity to a wide range of Marco Island activities, and you supported a myriad of causes and organizations.  You enriched lives of the people who came in contact with the Colony and the very fabric of the island. 

Laughing, working, growing, helping, sharing, we were at our best.  I will miss the close contact with your energy and your support.  You are each very dear to me.  It was a good and wonderful adventure, and wherever your artistic journey takes you next, I thank you for your part in the Artist Colony at the Esplanade, and wish you the very best.  

FEMA and Me, Before a Storm, daily painting by Everglades Artist Jo-Ann Sanborn

Before a Storm, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on board, 7"x5"

Truth be known, they had me at the word "hurricane."  For over 20 years I was a FEMA disaster reservist, part of a well-trained cadre that was called up to fill out the ranks of a small national staff when a natural disaster struck our nation.  Paid, too! 

I learned to be able to pick up the word "hurricane,"  "flood", or "tornado"  out of any newscast, even if I wasn't particularly listening.  Upon hearing the words, my priorities would change and I would go into "maybe leaving soon" mode.  I would cancel any appointments, get some cash, do the wash, and find my suitcase.  I would clean my palette, and not start anything new.

Sometimes I had to leave home and hearth in a matter of hours.  I might be deployed to a Governor's office, or a State Emergency Operations Center, or straight into the field to lead a damage assessment team.  Conditions were sometimes challenging, and the job always was.

Being a FEMA reservist is not for everyone. Flexible is the name of the game. You might get a flight to go to Boston, and then find you had been switched to Charlotte. OK, roll with it. Over the years I held jobs in Human Resources, Public Information, and Hazards Mitigation. I loved it.

Times have changed, and FEMA is now part of Homeland Security.  Programs have evolved and policies are different then when I served.  Still, weather words throw me into a tizzy of anticipation that can only be quenched back at my easel, with of course. an ear to the weather!

Hope to see you at ArtWalk tonight.  The shell postcards are 4"x6" and will be on sale for $10 each, on a first come first served basis.  If you need to do it long distance, email me before 5 p.m. and describe the ones you want.  Thanks!   

Vinlhaven Pines, and a sad story

Vinalhaven Pines, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on archival board, 8" x 10"

Vinalhaven Pines 2, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on archival board, 8" x 10"

These pines come out of another period of my life, when Vinalhaven, Maine was just a ferry ride away, and sitting on the rocky shingle by the crashing waves, collecting pinecones on the shore, and searching for bits of sea glass was a part of my children's childhood. 

My daughter would like a larger painting of the pines, so thought I would practice up a bit and try out some ideas.  The light is strangely Floridian, but I'm pleased with the results, and these two paintings will be part of an exhibition, Mainely Marco, at Harmon's and Barton's Gallery on Congress Street in Portland, Maine.  There'll be a reception for the First Friday Artwalk on August 3 and I intend to be there. 

The previously scheduled wordless paintings of the last month deserve some explanation, but there is none to give, except that the marsh paintings painted and named themselves in spare moments of time, as my dear love slipped slowly away to an unknown place.   He was a good and wonderful husband who brought joy into my life.  May he rest in peace.

Radiance, 2012, Jo-AnnSanborn

acrylic on archival board, 5"x7"

Gathering Shadows, daily painting by Everglades artist Jo-Ann Sanborn

Gathering Shadows, 2012, Jo-Ann Sanborn

acrylic on archival board, 5"x7"