Here’s an opportunity to learn, practice or revive some drawing skills. This is an adult class, with any level of experience. Basic materials and methods will be introduced, along with some advanced techniques, according to the scope of the  project.

Meeting every Saturday morning, 9-12 at my studio, we will go through a balance of drawing exercises to the art of seeing, special skills to sharpen the results in the drawing and open-ended projects of your design. One Saturday a month will be uninstructed, open studio time with feedback available for your project if desired.  The instruction can easily be tailored to individual skill level and goals since the group is small.  The workshop is intended to be a continuous series of monthly sessions, progressing as far as you desire. Students can expect to get a well rounded introductory or refresher course in one session, and may continue beyond that at their own pace.  Since it is ongoing, students are free to begin at any time.

I have been teaching drawing in groups of all ages, from preschool to retirement,  for almost 20 years. It is  a dynamic process of new discoveries, always challenging and often very exciting to  open one’s eyes a little wider to the world, within and outside oneself, through the act of drawing. I truly believe it should be a required course for life !

For information on schedules and fees, contact Anne at: artist@anneemmons.com to register.

The Store link  leads you to the complete line of greeting cards and prints of watercolors.

Check it out…you can purchase directly from the site or contact by email,: anneemmons_8@msn.com

Thank you for visiting this new addition to my website!

Look at the latest entry on the website:
a store of all of my Heartworks greeting cards and the limited edition of giclee’ prints !

Just go to the Store link and browse the categories of cards and prints listed.
You can now use the shopping cart online, secure with a Paypal option for purchase.
Or simply contact me through the website with inquiries.

Thank you for visiting this site!

The first step? Remove

the surface, though it appears

perfect,and oh, so white,

it must be covered. In layers

you will find the face,

which already rests, well within

this shallow reservoir.

A new chamber opens now, even

before the contours are etched

from a bone white facade;

invisible, the narrow lines

circumscribe the bounds of line

and color, glazed from darkness

into light. Draw the scribe

firmly; each singular mark will serve

as a beginning, an auspicious moment

of unveiling, reversing all

less attentive habits often held

in hope of covering one’s tracks.

No! plunge into this work!

A fearsome revelation strikes,

though all too often late.

Whether right or not, each petit lac

that follows shall fulfill the form.

Take heart…an unanticipated grace

awaits (is it ever otherwise?)

If, in the space between

what has been done

and that which is to be,

is sealed the barest sort

of prayer, an alchemy,

an occasion… something new.

Adorn the likeness which you seek

with clay: that well met hue

from every desert wandering becomes

host to less familiar stuff. Gold

adheres perfectly to this sticky

sanguine base, assisted solely

by the banal medium of breath

drawn deeply, best delivered of a

misty dawn, gut-emptying until

the aura fuses, and, if all goes well, transforms.

A tiny drop of red, dreadful

if touched, traces a gilded edge.

The compass font bleeds

the slender arc: a ring

wedding flesh with spirit, betrays

the end, declares the promise.

Though hinted by a halo, the person

is yet unseen. A luminous

foretelling, movement from

darkest earth to light,

a wash of chaos, color,

warms the image, makes its form,

consummating all created

elements in Uncreated light.

After naming by black lines, decisive

strokes of silent pigment

rendered from charred bone…

attend! These must echo closely

the early etching, now embedded

in hues of ochre, terra verte and lapis.

Expect a delicate recovery of light.

The task present is to see, perhaps

more truly, to be seen by the One

Whose Image tenders all.

In a blink the iris is proscribed,

her gaze fixed. Regarding the final

life-giving light, if there is a way,

I wouldn’t know. Infinite possibilities

arise, gestured by the final

turning of the hand, now trembling.

The brush lifts several last rays,

like lightning or lace, they surface,

tendrils floating from the bone

beneath, upon a host of coarser

grains, borne upwards.

Anne Emmons