Stephanie Peters

I find the song of a red-winged blackbird comforting. It's the soundtrack of spring for sure. But depending on where you are, these birds could be companions all year round. ​

Red-winged blackbirds are found all across North America - except for in the arctic tip of Canada. In most of the places I've lived, they have always been one of those birds you can count on seeing when hiking - at least if you are near water. From the bogs of the Adirondacks, to the water-treatment areas in Phoenix, you can see the flashy black male and the patterned brown female. I'm always surprised to see how different the female looks, even though I've seen the couple so many times. 

Because I've seen them so many times, and in so many places, I have tons of sketches and photographs of these birds sitting on things like cattails, branches, up in trees, bushes, etc. 

But it wasn't until I saw this red-winged blackbird precariously sitting on an echinacea flower that I found the composition I wanted. 

I spotted this bird sitting on this flower in the middle of a field of wildflowers tucked in between cornfields, in Iowa. Usually what inspires me to make a painting is the creature itself - whether it's a bird or a muskrat - I'm drawn to the experience I'm having of this particular creature in front of me.

But in this case, it was the red-winged blackbird's experience of the flower that I found interesting. I'd never seen them on a cone flower, and it was interesting to see how it hung on as the wind blew it back and forth. Like most of the times when you encounter a red-winged blackbird, they are more focused on what they are doing rather than what you are doing. Despite your presence, they will continue their songs or continue to hunt for worms. And I think that's what I loved about this moment, it didn't seem tainted by human activity, it was blissfully nature. 

...have found their way into my studio.  After spending three months in Europe this past summer, where I probably saw more rain that I have seen over the last five years living in Arizona, I've been hooked on storms.
From tornadoes to thunder storms to clouds dancing over mountains - the colors, mood and music of thunder has started to find its way into some new paintings and drawing.  Working with new mediums like graphite powder, and a more limited tinted palette, I'm very excited about the abstract direction these are going. I have a feeling these stormy paintings are the beginning of a few new collections on thunder storms, tornadoes, and hurricanes.

A few years ago - cannot believe it's been that long, I found a yard of bright blue canvas in the scrap pile of a fabric store somewhere in Virginia. I thought it might be interesting to paint a portrait of an elephant with vibrant colors on it. This was around the time clear gesso became popular, so there was a wave of interest in painting on any surface that could be gessoed... well at least that was what was going on in my sketch books.
 
After I picked up some stretcher bars at a local art store, I stretched this beautiful brilliant blue canvas over the bars, and covered the canvas with Winsor Newton's clear gesso... I couldn't wait for the brillant blue surface to be dry and ready for my vibrant elephant.

Although Winsor Newton's clear gesso dries clear -- it also dries a little milky if you are slathering it all over a colored canvas... Slathering is the key word. I believe one coat would have worked fine, but in this case, the clear gesso did not dry clear and there was a coat of milky white...  My vision of an elephant faded, and the canvas became a questionable experiment tossed off to the side. 

Flash forward to July 2014... I was standing in front of large aquariums at the Monterey Bay Aquarium in California, watching kelp sway back and forth. Schools of sardines swirling in and out, pushing past rockfish, surf perches, and other common pacific coast fish that call Kelp forests home. If you have ever been to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, you will understand what I'm talking about --  the magic awe of the great ocean is artificially created in those aquariums. If you haven't been, perhaps these photos may help illustrate what I experienced:

Maybe it was the scale of the kelp forests, or the expressions of the fish watching you watch them, that caused me to fall in a trance. I just sat there taking it all in -- the movement, the moment, the water, the colors, the shapes, and their eyes, all in. It was, with a lack of better expression, a very inspiring experience. This was probably the first time I had ever noticed kelp as kelp, and not just some gross seaweed that washed up on to the beach. 

Back at the hotel room --- well, let's be honest, on the ride back to the hotel room as my boyfriend drove, I started sketching out what I had seen, drawing the images that had been burned into my memory. Images that fueled ideas, beauty and inspired my pencil to move. Like so...