Rosemary G. Conroy Fine Art

Putting Myself Out There

October 8th, 2015
I love doing my open studio -- it takes a lot of energy, of course!

I love doing my open studio — it takes a lot of energy, of course! But it brings me so much too.

It’s amazing that it’s already time for my NINTH annual open studio! How crazy is that?

It’s so much fun to invite people in and show them everything I’ve been doing. I love seeing folks that I don’t get to see that often and meet new ones too.

Yes, it’s a lot of work. But I think it’s totally worth it. And kind of necessary. Yes, I believe in what I’m doing — but I also need people’s feedback. Do they get it? Do they understand what I am trying to say? Being an artist means spending a lot of time alone with your work and yourself. My open studio is often a big reality-check.

Luckily — and this is probably because those who show up wouldn’t if they weren’t already predisposed to like my art — so far it’s always turned out great! I’ve realized over the years how much I feed on the energy of all the folks who come out. It is so so gratifying to hear that people do get what I am doing, that they often LOVE it, and many times — that they want to take it home! (After all, this is my business — I need to pay for all that paint…)

And since I consider every painting a part of me, of my soul, when someone says they love the work, I feel the love too. It’s a lovely thing to feel. Who doesn’t love being loved? We are after all still children at heart I think. I know I am!

I want to use my work to speak for the animals, to celebrate nature, and ultimately to bring more beauty into the world. I think these things are really, really necessary. This is my calling. So yeah, the positive reinforcement goes a long, long ways on those days when I forget, or get lost, or wonder if it’s worth doing.

So thank you so much for all the kindness and love. Just so you know — it makes a difference.

Spirit Animals

July 7th, 2015

spiritanimalspromo-smSo I have been working feverishly on my latest show which is now hanging in the Kimball Jenkins Estate in Concord for the summer. The opening is Thursday, July 16th from 5 to 7 pm — if you are nearby, please come. I think this show has some of the best work I have ever done in it! Here’s my artist statement for the show.

Rosemary G. Conroy / Artist Statement for “Spirit Animals” Exhibit

The title of this show, “Spirit Animals” is a play on the concept of inspiration and dedication. It dawned on me recently that my artwork is a form of a prayer for the creatures that I paint: a sincere offering of thanks for the inspiration and joy they give me; a humble invocation of their beauty and wildness; and perhaps, most of all, an ardent plea that they continue to exist in this world.

This sounds vaguely religious, yet I don’t really adhere to any particular faith. This probably disappointed my parents, especially after they sent me to twelve years of Catholic school! But I am a deeply spiritual person. It’s just that my most sacred moments happen in the fields and forests and the birds, insects and mammals I find there are the most divine thing in my life.

Coincidentally (or is it?), I also spent twelve years working in the environmental field before becoming a full-time artist. It was another kind of religious upbringing: There was a strong community — I loved being part of a group of devoted people. We had dogma: ours was dedicated to making the world a better place. It felt righteous — how could it not — we were working to save the planet! And it required a kind of faith to believe that we could. But there were also dark nights of the soul. Often it seemed we were losing more ground than we were gaining (still does, I must admit.) These realizations lead to despair. The antidote? To go out and be in the natural world and get lost in it’s beauty and immersed in its wonder. (Of course.)

Now I am a monk it seems, having retreated to my studio where I devote myself to nature — but in a new way. I’m twelve years into being a professional artist and this is what my work is: A fervent prayer to anyone who might listen to consider, in every sense of the word, the wild ones.

Many of the pieces in this show are literally embedded with my incantations, my prayers, my wishes (which may sometimes look like scrawls but really are words), for these blessed creatures to survive — and thrive — alongside us.

Who’s a Good Boy?!?!

February 2nd, 2015
happythedog.jpg

Such a sweet boy and such an impact he had on me

I was thinking about the “why” of what I do — painting animals over and over — and I suddenly had this memory pop into my head.

I was about 19 years old and sitting in a restaurant with my boyfriend of the time. I had just found out that my dog “Happy” had died that day.

The memory I flashed back on was of me sitting in that restaurant and BAWLING my eyes out over the demise of Happy. And I didn’t just cry — I sobbed hysterically, with tears pouring out of my face and I’m sure snot coming out my nose. I was completely overcome with grief. I remember being so embarrassed later by how wildly emotional I had been in public — the other diners in the restaurant must have been pretty horrified too. Yikes.

When I had that memory resurface out of the blue yesterday I also had the thought — “Wow Happy’s death marked the end of my childhood, really.”

You see, Happy was more than just a pet. My two other siblings were four and eight years older than me and both male. I was forever trying to keep up with them or do what they did and being constantly thwarted by both being so much younger AND a girl. It constantly outraged me and probably explains my competitive nature somewhat. Plus both my brothers were terrible teases and loved to play practical jokes on me. You never knew when a cup of water might be propped up on the door you were about to open or someone was hiding behind the shower curtain ready to pop out and yell Boo! (I learned to be a keen observer thanks to them too, I suppose!)

So Happy was my refuge as only a dog can be. He was good-natured and goofy and very tolerant of being hugged and petted. We got him when I was five and I remember spending what felt like hours pouring out my little girl heart to him. Of course he TOTALLY understood me. He was in complete agreement about how unfair it was that I couldn’t be an altar boy or be in the balsa wood derby or play with my brother’s GI Joes when he was so perfect for Barbie and had a JEEP. That dog was the perfect little brother I never had.

Happy gave me the solace and sweetness of unconditional love. It’s no wonder I cried so hard when he died. Who wouldn’t mourn out loud the end of such a bond? And I suppose it’s no wonder that deep impression lingers to this day in my art.

BTW: The painting above was a warm-up I did for a commission of a my husband’s cousin’s dog who is a totally different breed. (Happy was a mutt — half poodle/half terrier of some sort.) But every time I see it, I think “That’s Happy!”

Look at those big brown eyes — he still totally gets what I am saying!

 

 

 

 

Happy New Year!

December 26th, 2014

Wishing you much warmth and light at this darkest time of year…

Wondrous Beings: Mourning Dove by Rosemary G. Conroy

Do you ne’er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne’er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys, Sweeter than instrument of man e’er caught! HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, Tales of a Wayside Inn

At this darkest time of the year, I want to thank you for all the light you’ve shone upon me

Thank you for all your enthusiasm for my work, your on-going interest and support,

and especially to everyone who purchased a painting — wow — you’ve made this my best year ever!

I hope the coming season brings you and your loved ones much lasting joy and tons of wild beauty.