I've always loved to paint. Perhaps, unlike cooking, it doesn't skip a generation. My mother is an artist, with a skill so innate I'd swear she was born with a paintbrush in her hand. Or, perhaps it does skip a generation here and there, now that I think about it. My grandmother was a great admirer, supporter, (and collector) of art, but not so keen on the making of it, insisting up until her final years that she was "still looking for her talent." My great-grandmother, however, adored painting, even taking classes throughout her life, and I love that the Elva Fields studio gallery wall shows off a floral still life painted by Elva Fields herself. 

Somewhere along the line, though, despite my joy in putting brush to paper and canvas, I somehow--and maybe even subconsciously--determined that I had to choose between jewelry and painting as a career path. And, once jewelry was the choice, I convinced myself that any temptation to pursue painting as a business would be nothing short of disaster. Essentially, I built a wide, invisible, dividing-line wall between the two. I painted exclusively for fun: thank-you notes and postcards, gifts for friends, backdrops for photo shoots, doodling in the margins of to-do lists, and rainy-day painting with my daughters. And I've loved it.

But lately (as in the-last-three-years lately) I've felt a pull to put my painting out there on a larger scale, to a wider audience beyond friends and family.  I largely ignored the instinct, mostly because I'm a huge chicken and also because I was following the unwritten rule I'd made for myself so long ago, and in addition to being a huge chicken, I'm also a very well-behaved rule follower. (Mostly.) I'm also, as it turns out, a gal who follows her heart...even in matters of business; in recent weeks, I've taken a closer look at my position on the separation of gems and paint and realized I could change my mind.  Like an artist's palette, I'm seeing there are shades of gray between the black and white.

So, I've gathered a small collection of work to share for now--all original works on paper painted in gouache and watercolor that show the start of something new here at Elva Fields. Or, rather, something not-so-new but representative of a more full, vibrant, and--dare I say--authentic Elva Fields. How fitting that the collection makes its debut headed into Mother's Day weekend, an unintentional but timely tribute to the mothers and grandmothers who share and shared their gifts so beautifully with me, and, now with you. 



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