Two Of A Kind

Last night I promised the “Natalie” nickname story, but before I get into that I wanted to explain my choice of title and subject for this evening. Two of a kind. As I  explained the other day, as a child I looked just like my dad. Neither of my two children look exactly like me. My son resembles Dan’s family much more than he does mine, although my Dad claims that Brian looks like him. (Of course, because he is handsome. See Natalie story at the bottom of the page, it will explain everything) Brian has my teeth, famously known around here as “Osmond” teeth, they’re big, Osmond big. When I was younger I could do a mean Marie. She and I are only days apart in age, although my face still looks like me. (Just saying..) Jessica is a real mixture of her Dad and I. When she was younger she resembled him more, now I see a lot of myself. I bring this up because the piece I painted tonight is from a photo Jessica took in Ireland. In 2009 my Dad wanted to take all four of his daughters, their husbands, and the eight grandchildren to Ireland.  I didn’t go. Love my family dearly, but me on a bus with my family for ten days would not have been pretty. Fortunately my lovely husband and I were celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.  Oh, so sorry, can’t go to Ireland because I’m going to Paris. (Have I mentioned how much I love my husband?)  I had also been to Ireland twice before, and had dreamed of going to Paris my entire life. No question about which trip I was taking. So, while my children were in Ireland with my family, (Ha ha) I was in France with the love of my life. This is where the two of a kind part comes in. I took more than two thousand pictures in France, Jessica wasn’t too far behind in Ireland. Two different countries, two different photographers, the pictures? Interchangeable. We take the same shots the same way. Same angles, same detail shots, same composition. The only difference is that she occasionally allows humans into hers, mine are landscape only. (I even photo-shopped an unfortunate tourist out of one of my pictures, sorry. She really shouldn’t have been wearing those sweat pants.  And, because no one told everyone to get off Monet’s bridge over the water lilies in Giverny….gone, sorry once again)  Jessica is also very artistic, a graphic designer by trade. Beautiful work and I’m not even biased.

When Brian was small he began to paint, he was three. He would watch Wile e Coyote and the Roadrunner and then paint desert scenes. I was thrilled. Then he grew a little and realized we might have something in common (God forbid!) so he quit. I think he spent years denying he actually had a mother. One of the nicest things that has happened with this project is that my son now wants me to teach him how to paint. I’ve waited nearly twenty years to hear that lovely request.  I might also add he has a good eye for photography as well. I’m a proud mother OK?

The “Natalie” story. Here it is… my Dad, as I have stated previously is quite a character. He is also quite narcissistic. He is a good-looking man, even now at eighty he still looks good, and since he sounds like he just got off the boat, (he got off in 1956) his brogue is quite attractive to the ladies. Since I looked like him as a child he gave me the nickname Natalie. No it isn’t my middle name, that is Frances. (I’m named for Jackie Kennedy, middle initial F., last initial A. Get it? J.F.A….J.F.K.? We’re Irish Catholic need I say more?) Natalie is for the beautiful Natalie Wood. Why? Because I looked like my Dad and if he were a woman he would look like Natalie Wood. Really. I wouldn’t lie to you. Slightly twisted, but you have to admit entertaining. By the way, my artistic talent isn’t mine, its his. He told me so. It’s kind of like osmosis, his thoughts, his ideas, my hands, I kid you not.

So in honor of my slightly strange Dad, and because I love him, a little watercolor of his favorite place on Earth, Ireland. Photo by Jessica, painting by Jackie (alias Mom)

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The Recycler Strikes Again!

I spent the afternoon helping a friend with a very special art project, I failed to ask her permission to use the art, and I don’t feel comfortable using it without her permission.  So tonight as I sit in the garden I decided to do another pastel on newspaper since I enjoyed the results last night. I have some Black-eyed Susan growing in the garden and honestly barely glanced at them, just sort of used the idea of them for inspiration. I grabbed a piece of today’s paper, grabbed my chalk and went to work. Not a masterpiece, just a very enjoyable exercise sitting outside on a beautiful night.

I am itching to get back to oil painting, unfortunately I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor until the end of the month, and until I know for sure that my lungs are clear, I must behave. I’ve been doing a lot of watercolor since I started this blog, and while I do enjoy it, I get bored using the same materials. I’m thinking it is time to pull out the acrylics. I’ve primarily used acrylics for painting on wood, not as much on canvas. I find them so difficult to maneuver. I think again, it is a matter of practice.  Tomorrow is the day. I actually have an orphaned painting in mind, and looking forward to the challenge.  Wish me luck!7 10

Recycled Art

Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I’m kind of crazy when it comes to recycling. My poor family has been lectured more times than I care to say because I have found something in the trash can that should have been in the recycling.  They live in fear of the recycling police. In my defense I feel like it is one small thing that I can contribute to the world. Then there were also Myra and Emma. Who were they? I’m sure everyone has a story about someone from their childhood that made a lasting impression on them. These ladies lived down the street from us. I believe they were sisters, and one of them unfortunately had something wrong with her face. Rumor had it that she was bitten by a squirrel, (nice children, weren’t we?) I really don’t know what the issue was. Anyway, when these ladies saw a kid pick up trash they rewarded that child with candy. Needless to say our street was clean, although there were some kids known to plant trash in order to be seen picking it up. It must have made quite an impression on me, I can’t stand litter. At one point in my life I owned a home on an alley, my little piece was the cleanest alley you would ever find. Even today I cannot eat in one of those restaurants with the peanut shells on the floor. It drives me insane, I want to grab a broom and sweep it all up.  There were also The Box Car Children. If you never read about them, they were in search of their grandfather, but couldn’t find him, so they made a home in an abandoned box car.  Their entire home was filled with stuff they found at the dump. It made the dump sound very glamorous, (there was no discussion about sanitation or odor) so that explains my obsession with thrift stores and antique stores. (I was obviously an impressionable child) I also believe it is responsible for all of the  various scraps, junk, crap and other materials I have, all with the idea of my turning them into something else. Some of that may actually come to fruition since I am on this journey to use all the supplies in my studio.

For tonight I wanted to give the chalk pastels a shot again. As you may remember, I am not fond of pastel paper, so I grabbed some Bristol. Horrible, wouldn’t blend at all! Then I remembered, several weeks ago I was watching a design show where an artist had been hired to do pen and ink drawings on pieces of newspaper. I loved the results. I grabbed a piece of this mornings paper from the recycling and began drawing. I love it. The chalk works beautifully with the surface of the paper, and I love the combination of the bright chalk sketch against the regimented font of the paper, and I’m recycling!  I want to try this again.

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The “P” Word, Yet Again!

 

Perspective. Just the sound of the word makes me freeze in horror. No, I am not admitting defeat. If you read last night’s post (and twenty other posts about it) you know that my evil nemesis had thwarted my plans to do a painting with perspective. Yesterday I had this grand plan to do a complete series of gates, windows, and doors. Then last night happened. I’m truly not giving up, just giving myself a break from the aggravation and frustration that I experienced last night. What you might find at the very least mildly amusing, is that I actually spent a good part of my afternoon beginning the panels for a paper doll house for a very special little friend of mine. Several weeks ago I did a pastel chalk of Emily. I turned that portrait into a paper doll, complete with wardrobe. Emily the paper doll needs a home, a friend, maybe some pets, probably some furniture for her paper house…..getting carried away here. There is no better thing in this world than the smile on a child’s face, I wish I could do it for every kid. I said I needed to do some catch up on my project, Emily’s house will be part of that. It might not be “fine art”, but quite frankly it’s so much fun I can’t wait to get back to it. I love design. As a child I didn’t really enjoy playing with Barbie dolls, I did however really enjoy designing their house. I have three sisters, and we never really had one of those factory made Barbie houses. We had random furniture, some Barbie, some generic doll stuff. My doll’s house was fabulous! I used a checker board for my flooring, (still love a checked floor) my mother’s jewelry box as an armoire, and her good Waterford crystal bowl as my pool, complete with color tinted water, that was accomplished by taking apart markers and dragging the inside material (not even sure what it is. Felt?) across the water to dye it to my color of choice. When my daughter was young and I worked at a grocery store I brought home empty cardboard cartons, which I then turned into individual Barbie rooms. Wrapping paper wallpaper, carpet sample flooring, artwork cut from magazines, and real fabric curtains. Eventually two stories high along a wall in her playroom. Barbie had quite the pad! I did stop playing long enough this afternoon to do something else for the project, a pen and ink drawing of a Day-lily. The ink sketch is what I will be posting a photo of tonight. Emily’s house is still under construction and will have its own special reveal, hopefully some day later this week. As I said, mildly amusing, the girl who can’t do math, and hates perspective, is creating an architectural doll abode. I guess even when you really don’t enjoy the process, (at least the perspective part) in the end it’s who and what the project is all about that makes all the difference. I guess you might say it puts things in “perspective” ( I know, insert cringe here).7 2

Recovering

I’m back, and I hope this time it’s for good. This pneumonia took an awful lot out of me. I don’t ever remember being this tired. I had every intention of posting yesterday, but early in the day I overdid it, and by evenings end I was in no shape for anything. My dear husband stepped in as I drifted off on the couch.

I’ve missed being here. This blog has done so much for me and my creativity. I’m feeling more at ease and creative than I ever have. It really has changed my life. I’ve spent most of my life being a “next Monday morning dieter”, and I did make several good attempts, but I would always fall back on my old ways. I was the same with art. Many, many false starts, but I never stuck with it til now. In the last several days as I struggled with illness I was afraid that when I tried to come back, when I tried to work again, that it would be another failed Monday morning. I’m sure your all familiar with it. You do one wrong thing and then it’s a private conversation in your head, goes something like this, “Well, I blew it now. I’ll just eat whatever today, and start again tomorrow.” Tomorrow never comes, or it doesn’t come for another six months. It took me so long to get here, and trust me there were days when I came really close to letting myself off the hook, but I didn’t, I followed through. I’m proud of that. I’m not giving up. I am a few days behind of course, three hundred sixty-five days, three hundred sixty-five pieces of art, I need to play a little catch up. I’m not worried, I know I can do it. I am however going to be realistic. I have been sick, very sick, and I need to take it easy.

It was very hot here today and our house felt like an oven. We decided to sit in the garden tonight where it was cool. I grabbed a couple of tomatoes off the vine. Tonight’s very simple exercise is a watercolor of my tomatoes. I’ll be back tomorrow, hopefully with something a little more ambitious. For now I’m tired…again. Goodnight.Image

Returning To Work

 

Hello known (and unknown) universe. I’m back for a quick blog. Feeling somewhat better, but still not to be considered a fully functioning human. Tired and winded, it may take a few days to get my mojo back. I thank all who participated in sending me good karma. I did manage in the last forty-eight hours to get something done. Actually, more than one thing since it was my wonderful husband’s birthday. It is also our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary today. I have been couch bound for a week, therefore no birthday gifts, cards, or anniversary card or gift. I don’t know why I have ever bought a single card, I make beautiful cards. Who knows? So I made a lovely birthday card, and then as a combination birthday/anniversary present(s), I wrote two poems, and then did pen and ink drawings to put them on. I’ve posted a photo of the first minus the poem. I think I’ll be doing a lot of watercolor, pencil drawing, and pen and ink in the coming weeks, I need to avoid the fumes of everything else.  I am more than pleased with the finished result, and even better than that, Dan loved them, and that is all that matters. Happy Birthday, and Happy Anniversary Dan, I love you.6 236 24 (1)

Something Old And A Little Something New

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This will be a very short post tonight, it’s Father’s Day and my attention needs to be elsewhere. I did a very, very quick sketch, and I did a little work on my wood burning project for my friend. I won’t bother to show the project tonight, not enough to show. I actually thought that I might take the day off, but I can’t. I read someplace that if you exercise for six weeks it gets in your system and you want and need to do it. (It never happened for me) I have been writing my blog for about eight weeks. I have to admit it, I’m hooked on the project. I have to keep my promise to myself. I feel incredibly good and positive about the direction this has taken me.  So here is just a little something new, and since it was so quick, a little something old, an oil inspired by the area I live in.DSC03388

Using The Gift

I never quite understand people who,because they have a particular talent believe themselves to be better than others. I have a gift, an artistic one, but so do millions of others. I have often said, “Sure I can draw, paint, cook, do pretty much anything creative, but the laundry list of what I can’t do is ten times longer. There are those who can dance and sing, talents that I would love to have. I am sorely lacking in the coordination department, which essentially cuts out pretty much any athletic prowess. I bring this up for a number of reasons. I have had people suddenly become interested in being my friend because they see what I can do, and trust me, I can spot those ones a mile away. I have had more than my fair share of snide comments from other women who see my abilities as competition. I don’t feel that way about things that other people are good at. I admire what others can achieve. I will admit to having a little “hair envy”, basically mine sucks and always has. These days, much to Dan’s amusement I comment on how nice other women’s knees look. (If you saw mine you’d understand..six surgeries have done some damage) Do I wish I were thinner,richer, or more accomplished? Sure I do, I’m human, but I am more of the mind-set that when someone else looks better, or does something better or different from what I do, I applaud them. I had the conversation that I wrote about earlier in the week, the one that took a swipe at my self-esteem. Then yesterday I saw a neighbor, a woman who I at one time considered a friend. I did a lot for her. I foolishly gave and gave of my artistic self, doing things for her and her kids. She turned into one of the women who made the snide remarks. I’ve been accused of “showing off”, all because I made a beautiful dish to bring to a neighborhood gathering, or gave a hand painted piece of furniture as a gift to a neighborhood child. (Believe me, I was invited to the party for every kid on the street) My point, the reason I write all of this, is that I don’t show off. I never think I am better than anyone else, and I shouldn’t let someone else who has a ridiculous issue about me, (envy) to cloud my thinking, to get in the way of my art. I have given myself a stern talking to, and have had encouragement from a number of people in regards to that post.

Back to the “gift”. The best thing about having the ability to do everything I can do is that I can create something special for people I care about. I have a very dear friend in the midst of a horrible problem. She means the world to me, and other than letting her know that I am here for a shoulder to cry on, there isn’t much I can do to help her situation. We are good friends because we are much the same, nice, decent, thoughtful women. We accept each other, we share our lives, we support each other. We love our husbands and our children. We joke that we get along so well because we are both middle children. She is one of the finest people I have ever known. I can’t fix what is happening in her life, but I can use what I have, my artistic gift, to let her know that she is loved and thought about. So tonight I decided to make my project for her. She will be mad at me, she says I give her too much, but she is wrong. She has given me through her friendship more than I can ever repay. She loves pears. To eat, to wear, (her favorite pear sweater), she has pears all around her house, I think she needs one more. I raved about the wood burning and the pearl paint when I did the table. I’ve been anxious to try something else. I have some scrap wood in the garage, so I drew a quick sketch of some pears, and pear flowers, and grabbed the wood burner. I have barely begun to paint it, but it is late, so I will post part of the started project. I know my friend will read this, she is so very supportive of what I am doing, so I don’t want her to see it all yet.

In addition to tonight’s post is a quick pen sketch. I had a lovely day in the vineyards with Dan. As we sat on the terrace of one of the wineries I drew the scene in front of me. I have photos of this same location and think it just might need to become the inspiration for a painting.leoness photo

Back To The Drawing Board

I never did get to putting the pages of my box/book together. Not surprising, I know, but other pressing matters, such as my overgrown garden took precedence. I realize that it is just another obstacle I created for myself. All I can say is I’m working on it. Some of you may be saying, “Where’s Jessica?” I know, I haven’t gotten back to my full figure portrait. It isn’t really that I’m avoiding it, I just haven’t been sleeping well, and when I don’t sleep well I tend to screw things up. I also get frustrated more easily, and I really want the portrait to turn out well.

I worked so hard today that I have a couple of blisters on my right hand.That would be of course that I, who rarely stops to think and just jumps into the creative pool head first, always work without gloves. The garden looks beautiful, my fingers hurt, and I’m very tired.  So what seems to have become the norm happened again. I cooked dinner and then set off in search of a project. I thought about a small painting, my usual, a watercolor, but then when I looked at the shelf where I keep paper, actually it’s shelves, many shelves. I have over the years purchased a great deal of paper, and received quite a few pads of a paper as gifts.  Many, many of them are regular inexpensive drawing paper, and following through on my promise to use up my supplies, I decided to practice my drawing skills. I had intended to do a few quick sketches, but that didn’t happen. I only did one drawing, as I was leaving the studio I noticed a new package of charcoal that was sitting on my table. (I am ashamed to admit that there are a lot of new, unopened art supplies, some that moved there with me ten years ago!) I decided to use the charcoal. It turns out that the charcoal is actually “black chalk lead”. What? Do I know how to use this stuff? No. Did I read anything before I tried to use it? Of course not. It’s me, the artist who flies by the seat of her pants. Let the frustration commence! It doesn’t erase! My drawing was going along very nicely until I got to the hand. Attempt number one was a mess, way out of proportion. I tried to erase and it didn’t work very well. I tried again with no success. I finally got smart and grabbed a regular pencil, sketched it in, and then ran it past my in-house critic, Dan. Satisfied that it would work out I went back and finished with the lead chalk. I’ll play with the lead chalk again, but I think I’ll save it for a little free form sketching. I am glad I got at least one finished piece from my efforts, and it is one I like. Not too bad.6 13  (7)

Tearing Down Road Blocks

Still on the mend, but very happy with myself this evening. Three months ago, six months ago, or a year ago, actually for the last twenty years I have been putting myself off. Finding every excuse in the book to not work, putting up self-built road blocks, telling myself that I wasn’t good enough, or focusing on the “can’t” instead of the “can”. Putting myself in the position of having to answer to others, some I know, obviously some I don’t know, and most importantly to myself, has forced my hand literally. I didn’t feel like working again tonight. Still have an earache and a headache. I gave a fleeting thought to hanging a shingle up here on the blog declaring, “Blog closed due to illness”, but I am so committed to this project that I couldn’t do it. Not only did I work, but I confronted my biggest artistic hurdle head on. Perspective, it’s a dirty word for me. I pull out the ruler, I study the angles, it just doesn’t work for me! It isn’t perfect, which is OK, (because we all know I am leaving perfect behind) but I do love the finished piece.

A little about the subject matter. I have boxes of paper in my studio. Photos that I tore from magazines over the years because I liked a color, or a shape, or a face, something that appealed to me about each and every one. Then there are the computer files of the thousands of photos that I have taken, all with the intention of drawing or painting them some day, or using them for inspiration, but never actually doing anything but collecting them. I did attempt something from time to time, but as I have mentioned before when it wasn’t fitting into my idea of what it was supposed to be, I walked away from it, leaving many, many orphaned, half-finished works of art hidden away in my studio. In the last fifty four days since I began this project I haven’t abandoned anything. I do have a few works in progress, and I fully intend to finish them. I also intend at some point to go in to my studio and free the orphans. Take a good look at what I have that is already started and decide what needs to be finished. As for tonight, I made a decision. I will be recycling a great deal of paper. I don’t want to look to anyone else for inspiration. That doesn’t mean I won’t be moved or inspired by a painting, or a photo, but I want to rely on myself for a while. Tonight I looked through my photos. I took this photo in San Diego a few years ago. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why I loved it so much, but I think Dan hit it on the head tonight. It has a certain nostalgia to it.This photo certainly gave me what I’m looking for, it is my photo, and it is certainly a perspective challenge. It is done in watercolor, ink and pencil. I will say again that I am really pleased with the piece, and myself for not giving in to the temptation of throwing up a road block, despite how I’m feeling.Image