There’s something about black-eyed Susans, bright yellow petals on spindly stems that bob, sway, and toss in the wind that makes me want to tap my feet and join into their natural rhythm. In this miniature pastel, I that lively motion was as important to portray as the colorful, old-fashioned petals. One morning as I admired them over coffee, the small cluster of rudbeckia in my garden literally danced with light, air, and color. Jim said, "You should paint those!" I snapped a phone photo, finished my coffee, then hit the studio and got to work. Whenever I questioned something, I simply went back outside and took another look at my models growing in the garden.
This small pastel brings a bright, cheerful burst of garden life into a room without asking for much space — just a place to dance. These are heirloom rudbeckia I've grown, plain Janes as lazy Susans go with smallish solid yellow petals and that dark-eyed center. Set against an impressionistic background of earth and foliage, those yellow blossoms pop with life, and the tangle of foliage against earth bends and sways. I love painting that tension between structure and wild abandon in flowers like these. While sturdy on their slender stems, nature keeps them flexible and they never look stiff.
Black-eyed Susans rarely stand still enough to pose politely for me, but that's okay. Beauty doesn’t have pause and strike a pose to touch your heart. That's why I plant the old-fashioned variety. And that's why I paint them.
Hang this (or display it on a table easel or propped on a shelf) where you need to see bare bones beauty to remind yourself to bend in the wind and go with the flow. It will add color to your space, but more important, this small bouquet can put a song in your heart. Something you can tap your feet in time to as you sink into your favorite chair and welcome yourself home.
