November 25th, 2008
The very first thing we do for a new baby is to decorate a room for them celebrating their imminent arrival by picking out the furniture, decorations, baby artwork, themes, and colors.
I have been working on my line of art for kids—both nursery art and children’s art–for a long time already and plan to add to it for years to come. I have lots more ideas to paint.
November 25th, 2008
http://www.vimeo.com/2337751Slideshow of images from my Children’s Print line
November 8th, 2008
It will come to as surprise to those who know me to read that I love Maine. I went the first time about 1995 and fell in love with the state, the scenery, the culture, the wildlife and, yes, the Mainiacs! It is truly a beautiful and special place.
In my dream life, I have a little cottage in Maine. I can see it in my mind. It is close enough to the water to hear the ocean chime in on the rocks and pebbles and to smell the wild roses that grow amongst the boulders lining the beach. My little dream house is tiny and painted white. It has a little front porch where I take my morning coffee. The furnishings are spare and simple and old. There is no air conditioner and all the windows are always open. I sweep the bare floors clean every morning and wash all the dishes by hand. I hang the tea towels on a line to dry. In the side yard is my kitchen garden—tomatoes, cukes, squash, herbs and cutting flowers. Out back, I have an old shed art studio with a wide, swinging door, one window with window box and a worn, paint splotched plank floor. In my dream life, I drive up from North Carolina to my little Maine house just in time to get the garden in and return home when the first frost hits. I take my cats. I take my paints. My friends and family flow through the house all the summer long. What a good dream! I’m believing it will happen. (And, if you look through my paintings, you will see I have painted and painted again some version of this vision!)
Maine is place of islands, and the islands are full of little dream houses. There are so many islands. I think I read somewhere that Maine has more coastline than any other state. May or may not be true, but I am sure it is almost true! I love the Maine islands.
November 5th, 2008
Painting the portrait of a family is such a rewarding part of my work.
I create the portraits from photographs. All I really need is one photo of each person and about 20 minutes of your time for an interview.
I’ve painted families just about anywhere you can imagine the family gathering–sitting around the living room, on a boat, in the yard, piled up in bed listening to a story, at the beach, gathered around the kitchen table—you name it, and I have probably painted it.
April 9th, 2008
I love painting art for children. My prints run in themes from seaside to animals to vehicles to Mother Goose and so on. I am always adding a new print so check back. If you have an subject idea for me, send an e mail. You can view all the works in the collection in the online store under Childrens.
March 20th, 2008
On the beach… in the city…
or around the neighborhood…
Deborah Cavenaugh uses her colorful and playful artistry to bring alive a unique portrait of your special place.
October 25th, 2003
The truth is there is no other way to learn but to be tested, to be allowed to strengthen and rise. How will you ever understand your weaknesses until they are made plain through your challenges? How will you ever know how strong you are unless a feat of strength is required that goes way beyond any comfort zone? How will you ever know how fast you can run unless you are truly running for your life? How will you understand the depth of your faith until there is nowhere else to turn?
We can only ever discover our own true courage, strength, faith, intelligence, and purpose through the passages we embrace or refuse.
Let us embrace the passages for they are a blessing. Our passages narrow the way and keep us on the road. They guide us and teach us. Our passages honor us with the opportunity to become more in every way.
It is good to know who we are becoming. You may think you know who you are already, but no matter your age that person is only a new beginning place. There is more to know and more to become. Whomever it is you were born to be can only be discovered through the passages you agree to complete.
October 18th, 2003
About the print “Standing in the hope of the new day” -
I created this painting for the Pink Ribbon Society of Wilmington, North Carolina.
My paintings usually tell a story using symbols that we all know and remember.
This painting tells the story of a woman on a journey.There is a path. She doesn’t know where it will lead, but she knows that she is on it.There is a fence, and she knows that others have been on the path before her.
The path leads to a rising hill (it is not an easy journey), and to a rising sun (there is hope for tomorrow).
The path is marked by guideposts (she is not alone), and lit by lanterns (maybe there are angels nearby).
She is watched over by a bird, a symbol in all my paintings for God watching over us.
Waiting along the path are sunflowers—maybe a reminder that others are waiting to help her through or maybe a symbol of those who have traveled this path before her.
October 15th, 2003
(The following piece is a part of a series of essays and poems that inspired paintings by the same title.)
If I could have any wish come true, it wouldn’t be for a skinnier body or a younger face. I wouldn’t wish for a better boyfriend or more money or a quicker intelligence. My wish would be for more faith.
I practice my faith with prayer and words. I go to God everyday with my joys and my sorrows. I expect a lot from him when I am praying and I know, at that moment, He can deliver. But, too often when I am going about my daily life, I behave as if I had no faith at all–afraid that my life will not work out right, fearful of the dark and the unknown. If I am not careful, I can be caught in a mire of doubt and fear about what the day will bring, that saps the joy from the best day. If I am not careful, I will miss the good that is always given.
Why is that? Why can’t I just let go and trust. I don’t exactly know.
September 29th, 2003
(The following piece is a part of a series of essays and poems that inspired paintings by the same title.)
Deborah Cavenaugh is a self-taught American watercolor artist working in Wilmington, North Carolina. Her colorful and inspirational fine art and prints invite viewers into a world where she explores the familiar subjects of home and family.
