America the Beautiful: The Stories Behind the Paintings
When Creative Brush Fine Art Studios and Gallery announced its America the Beautiful exhibit — a juried show celebrating America’s 250th birthday, with the goal of representing all 50 states — I volunteered for New Jersey. Specifically, my hometown of Basking Ridge. That was the plan.
Then I heard that no one had claimed Texas. One of the largest states in the country — how could we not have Texas? I volunteered. And then Georgia came up unclaimed. With a three-painting limit per artist, I had exactly one slot left — and an easy decision.
Three paintings. My hometown. A canyon carved over millions of years. And a misty Georgia morning with a small personal joke hiding inside.
The show runs June 27 through August 15 at Creative Brush, with an opening reception on June 27 (11 am – 5 pm) and June 28 (1 – 5 pm). All artwork is for sale.
Stories Beneath the Glory — Basking Ridge, New Jersey
Inspiration
New Jersey was the natural starting point. Basking Ridge is my hometown — a place I carry with me even from 250 miles away. And as I started thinking about what to paint, I realized the scene I wanted to capture didn’t technically exist.
When you stand on South Finley Avenue looking north toward Basking Ridge Presbyterian Church, the trees lining the east side of South Finley where it meets East Oak Street, block your view of the oak tree. The church and the oak were both there, both extraordinary, but the way South Finley Avenue bends into East Oak Street — and the trees lining its east side — meant the view never let them share the same frame. My 8″x16″ painting brings them together and emphasizes how the church and tree hold ground together.
The History
The Great White Oak — also called the Holy Oak — germinated around 1398. It was already nearly four centuries old when George Washington and the Marquis de Lafayette are said to have picnicked in its shade as they traveled between encampments. Washington’s diary documents visits to the area as early as 1773.
Reaching 97 feet tall with a branch spread of 156 feet, it was recognized as one of the oldest and largest white oaks in North America. Scottish Presbyterian settlers founded their congregation in its shade in 1717, constructing a pioneer log church that was eventually replaced by a frame church in 1749 and the present brick structure in 1839. In 1740, the Anglican evangelist George Whitefield preached to over 3,000 people beneath its branches — one of the defining moments of the First Great Awakening on American soil.
Among the 1,139 people buried in the churchyard are 35 Revolutionary War soldiers. The area played a pivotal role in the war’s outcome: the capture of General Charles Lee at Basking Ridge removed Washington’s most formidable internal rival, allowing him to consolidate command and lead his troops to the decisive victory at Trenton.
The tree died in 2016 and was removed in April 2017. When arborists counted its rings, they confirmed it had lived for 619 years. A young oak grown from one of its acorns now stands on the church grounds, carrying the lineage forward.
Process
The oak was so magnificent — and so large — that it had been well documented by many people. But that same scale created a real challenge: a tree with a 156-foot branch spread is nearly impossible to capture in its entirety from any one vantage point. I had to piece together an understanding of its structure from many angles, many times of day, working out how the afternoon light coming from the west would fall across the limbs.
Because this view doesn’t exist in real life, the painting required a great deal of research — and an enormous amount of generosity from others. I reached out to a Facebook group dedicated to the town, and both current and former Basking Ridge residents responded with photos they had taken of the tree over the years.
My primary reference photo came from Gretchen DeCoste. Her photo provided the perspective and the lighting. However, the trees lining S. Finley Avenue obstructed the oak tree. That’s where Mark Albright’s photo came in. Taken of the oak after a light snowfall, it revealed the tree’s branching structure without the leaves obscuring it. Seeing the bare armature of those massive limbs was essential for understanding how to paint them convincingly. From there, one of my key collaborators was the church historian, whose knowledge of the site and its history was invaluable.
With all of these pieces in hand, I was able to construct a composite image that places the church and the oak together — the way they exist in memory and meaning.
Carved in Ancient Stone — Palo Duro Canyon, Texas
Texas came about because my teacher — who owns the gallery and is coordinating the show — mentioned that no one had claimed it yet. I thought: how can we not have Texas?
In 2016, my husband and I visited his son and family in Amarillo and made a trip out to Palo Duro Canyon — known as the Grand Canyon of Texas. Its name comes from the Spanish for “hard wood,” a nod to the juniper and mesquite trees throughout the area. Four geological periods are written in its layered sedimentary rock, carved over millions of years by wind and water. Standing inside it, you feel the weight of that time.
One particular cave opening caught my attention — dark and dramatic against the surrounding red rock. We hiked up into it, and I never forgot the view. This painting is a portrait of that moment: deep time made visible, a reminder that this land was ancient, long before anyone arrived to name it.
Dawn’s Early Light — Locust Grove, Georgia
Georgia was pure joy, and here’s why.
As a kid, my nickname was MerrieMoo, and I have an extensive cow collection. So, when a friend offered me a reference photo from his family’s cattle ranch about an hour southeast of Atlanta — a misty morning scene, one late October morning, two cattle grazing as the sun came up and the haze slowly burned off the field — the choice was obvious. This was mine.
The original photo had two cattle. I added a third to improve the composition — a small act of artistic license that, I think, any cow enthusiast would support.
The wide format of the 8″×16″ panel echoes the expanse of the landscape: the wide open sky, the distant silo anchoring the horizon, the stillness of a working farm before the day really begins. It’s a painting about American agricultural life and land loved and tended across generations.
And if you look very closely — the cows are purple. There’s a reason for that.
That verse has lived in my head since childhood. Painting it in — quietly, subtly — felt like signing the canvas twice.
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one.— Gelett Burgess, 1895
Materials and Framing
All three paintings are oil on linen panel — a very traditional combination and one I’ve come to love. Panels offer a more stable surface than stretched canvas, which makes them the better choice for longevity. They’re also thinner (about 1/8”) than a stretched canvas, which can run 3/4” deep or more, and that opens up more framing options.
I believe a frame is a critical part of any painting — think of it as choosing the right accessories for an outfit. Each of these three got something different.
Basking Ridge wears a narrow black frame with touches of gold — traditional in every sense, which feels exactly right for a subject steeped in American history. And the gold isn’t arbitrary: it echoes the gilded cupola at the base of the church’s steeple, tying the frame to the painting in a way that feels intentional without announcing itself.
Palo Duro is framed in a narrow but notably deep stained brown — and that depth is intentional. The painting itself is only 12″x9″, a small panel depicting a massive canyon, and there’s something a little incongruous about that. But when the frame sits nearly 2″ off the wall, the scene suddenly gains a sense of depth that feels entirely appropriate — as if the canyon is pulling you in.
And the Georgia cows? Barnwood painted grey — the color of early morning mist still clinging to a field. The weathered wood speaks to the outdoors and the working life of a ranch, exactly the world the painting inhabits.
Come See the Show
America the Beautiful runs June 27 through August 15 at Creative Brush Fine Art Studios and Gallery. The exhibit brings together 34 artists and more than 70 paintings representing all 50 states — and our nation’s capital, Washington, DC. The breadth of the country captured in a single gallery. Your home state, a state you’ve visited, or one you’ve always wanted to see. It’s all there. All of the paintings in the show are for sale.
If you’re thinking about stopping by, I’d love to meet you there. Drop me a note, and we’ll find a time.
Which state would you have chosen to paint — and what scene would have captured it? Let me know in the comments below.
I’m from BR, too, and you did a wonderful job capturing the spirit of the town.
But it’s your Georgia painting I can’t take my eye off. I swear I can see the cows kind of swaying in the mist. Well done!
Thank you for sharing.