Kathleen Walsh

we are delighted to be exhibiting Kathleen Walsh, mother of the charming Bridget Walsh (see post here) show goes up at NIH early September, then moves on to WCI. Artist Statement
Consider Beauty
Once, while painting in an open field, Beauty crept upon me. "I have a secret," she said. "If you consider with care the mountain, she will seduce you."
My eye took in the mountain and the mountain returned my gaze. It was cobalt, then ochre, then orange. I was seduced. I painted.
The caress of the breeze as it prods night into day. The whisper of the fog when it blows in on swallow’s tail. Gold as it leaps from the hayfield at noon. Heat that sizzles the corn. The song of the cricket. The buzz of the bee. A single fallen petal. I couldn’t paint fast enough.
Then I noted the twisted knot of the gnarled tree, the bone-like branches of a withered bush, the broken pod of the milkweed. This too I painted.
Night came. Suddenly, I was alone in harrowing silence. I sat a while on the knoll, terrified. No one came. Then, in soundless grace, the moon slipped in. With practiced hand she washed the world silver blue. Who could imagine such mastery? Here was the Artist. I couldn’t help it; exhausted, I fell asleep in the grass.
Beauty returned with morning mists. I could feel her standing beside me. She looked over my work; unfinished, imperfect, my best effort. I could not bring myself to speak, so delightful was she. "Welcome home," she said.