Turning The Old Into New

So often we hear comedians joking about how we turn into our parents. In my case I think I’ve reversed the process. When our son Brian was a little boy, he would often be someplace else in his head, fingers flickering, a look of concentration on his face, his mind obviously out in the universe somewhere. His first grade teacher commented on it once. She said she would see that far away look on his face and call out, “Earth to Brian.” Dan coached him for a season or two in soccer, and he would often see Brian standing in the middle of the field tapping his foot, and tapping his wrist, much like his favorite character, Sonic the Hedgehog. This while his and the other team played around him. We were out shopping with him, maybe around the age of three or four, and as always he was somewhere else. We watched in amusement as he began following another man, although it wasn’t the man he was following, it was the man’s jeans. Brian had barely picked his head up, only long enough to see jeans and began to follow, because Dan was wearing jeans. I’m reminded of the incident because lately Dan and I have begun to walk every day. We began with a usual walk through the paths of our subdivision, but after a week or so decided to add a little mileage to our trek. We chose a subdivision across the street, the path is longer, and actually quite a bit nicer. We’ve been walking this path for about a week. I have mentioned before that as talented as I am with my hands, I am sorely lacking in other areas, one of which is that I have no internal G.P.S., not one ounce of a sense of direction resides in my brain. (It’s the monkeys that live in there. I know it is.) Every morning as we walk the same path I find myself unable to remember where to turn next. The sun is still strong here in Southern California, so most of the time despite a hat and sunglasses, my head is down. So what do I do? I follow Dan’s pants. Like my son, my brain is always somewhere else, and usually not on what direction I’m traveling. That makes me have to ask, do I get it from Brian? Or does he get it from me?

We had a wedding to attend today, and as well-intentioned as I am, I just didn’t have the time to finish a project. I did begin a sketch for a watercolor, but it isn’t far enough along to use. I decided to post a few photos of some furniture projects. An old jewelry chest repainted for a teenager, and a chair that I decided to reupholster for my own bedroom. I’ve never upholstered before, but like so many things I do, it was one more by the seat of my pants. I simply looked at the chair and figured it out. I find it funny that as I said above, I really truly have no internal map, I have a designated parking space at the mall and grocery store because of the amount of times I lose my car. I can get lost in my own neighborhood, and math? Forget it. I can however, look at a chair, take it apart and redo it. It’s a strange, strange brain that I own.bergere chair 002Before

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Blending Flavors

I failed to get back to my watercolor portrait today, but not without very good cause. I was very busy pursuing my other great passion, cooking. As an artist I enjoy using all kinds of medium, and for me cooking is another medium. Ingredients are like paint, blending together to create a work of art on a plate. I created a new recipe today. We were watching an episode of Anthony Bourdain in Spain the other night, and by the time it was over I was in a Spanish frame of mind. I love tapas, and unfortunately for us our favorite tapas restaurant in San Diego closed down. We loved going down to the Gaslamp Quarter and sitting at a sidewalk cafe, enjoying some small plates and a pitcher of Sangria while watching the world go by. Of course as most couples do, we would comment on the people walking past. (All in good fun, because we of course are perfect….back to the food…) I created a shrimp dish with Mexican chorizo for lunch. A lovely, rich, smokey sauce, and succulent shrimp dusted in smoked paprika, topped with a little fresh guacamole and chipotle mayo.  Dan gave me a lovely compliment, he said, ” When we watch Anthony Bourdain’s show and watch him eat in these great little restaurants, I always think, “I wish I could eat there.”, and today I did.” Brian loved the base of the dish, but isn’t terribly fond of shrimp. He suggested that he might like chicken instead. So off to the store with my friend Theresa, for a very fun afternoon of ingredient shopping. By four fifteen I was back at the stove and created a different version of the same recipe for dinner. This time a gumbo of sorts with chicken, Mexican chorizo and Spanish chorizo, with some chopped cilantro and green onion. My guys loved it, cleaned their plates and went back for seconds, actually Brian cleaned the pan as well. Now I just have to remember everything I put in there. I’ve made some great dinners over the years, telling my family to enjoy because they will never have it again. Some of the meals in this house are made from what’s in the fridge and a little kitchen wizardry. I get a great deal of personal satisfaction from painting, but cooking for the people I care about is good for the soul. There are honestly days when I think if I could go back in time and choose a career path to follow, I’m not sure if it would be cooking or art. I guess I’ll just have to continue doing both.

Lunch….

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Dinner….IMG_1582

Not the portrait for tonight, but a watercolor. Just something pretty to look at.

Art…

 

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Late Grade

Last night I gave myself an unofficial report card on my project so far. Guess what I forgot? Come on, we all know what it is…Perspective of course. Notice how I managed to forget that little issue? I think its post traumatic stress disorder caused by geometry. I was straightening out all the supplies that are laying about in my family room and found not one but two books on the subject. One was a book I own and have owned for years. The other was the library book I wrote about last week.  Have I read them thoroughly? No I haven’t. I did crack open the library book and make a few rough sketches that I had posted last week. I also wrote last week about my love of reading. So that might make one wonder why I haven’t read these books on perspective. I have had a lifelong issue with reading. Back in the third grade I was pulled from reading class by the nuns to help the first graders with reading. My reading skills were always above my grade. I can knock off a novel in an afternoon. However, if the reading material happens to be in the form of an instruction manual, or a text-book on a subject that I am not interested in, I can read a page again and again, and nothing, not a thing. No comprehension what so ever. I hate to admit this but I’m about as stubborn as they come. I mean no disrespect as I say this, but to quote my Dad, “That one could argue Jesus Christ off the cross”. If I don’t want to do something it just doesn’t happen. I really believe that if I’m not interested enough in the subject my brain closes its eyes and refuses to look. There can be no other explanation. So my grade on the offending perspective…C- I think that’s fair, I have seen some improvement, but obviously if I actually tried to work on it I could do better. I’d like to promise I’d do so, but I really, really hate how mathematical it is. Like everything else I do and have done with art, I will continue to work on it in my own way.

And in taking a step in the right direction, I started my project early today. I’m really happy with my finished piece. Sometimes the unexpected comes into your life, and sometimes it brings incredible people with it. Alexis, a beautiful young lady and the subject of my painting tonight. I’m not actually sure who took the photograph of her, I saw it on her Facebook page and thought she looked beautiful. I also loved the abstract way the light had blurred the line of her pants, and the unusual color it cast on both Lexy and her surroundings. I’d like to think I captured her essence and the reflected color. It is the most ambitious watercolor I have done to date.IMG_1482

Living A Better Life

While I was at my Dad’s house I looked through his old photo albums. I ended up bringing quite a few photos back with me to repair. I’ve gotten pretty good with Photo-shop, particularly on the old damaged pics. Some were photos of my grandparents when they were young. Those pictures got me thinking.  I wondered if my grandparents thought about their lives, if they were satisfied, or if they ever gave it any thought at all. We live in a very me, me, me, society. Some of that I believe is good. I think if we are allowed and encouraged to grow as people it benefits us in a multitude of ways.  At the same time, in all of this self focus, do we lose sight to those around us? Is it possible to satisfy your own needs without taking into consideration the needs of others? Yes and no. One of the books I really enjoy, and have reread many times is Mitch Albom’s “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”. In essence the book speaks to how each moment in our lives we touch others in ways we don’t even realize. I think about that a lot. I’ve mentioned before that I like to think about being the “nice lady”  someone remembers from their childhood. Just think of the difference we could all make if we thought about that every day. A smile, a compliment, an open door for a stranger, simple acts that cause a ripple effect. It is so easy to change the day of another person. When I think back on my life I can remember moments that make me smile with the memory of something I did that I know made a positive difference in the life of someone I barely knew. Unfortunately I can also look back and remember when I wasn’t my best. These days I’m working on always keeping what is really important in life at the top of my list. I believe as I grow (yes, even at my age…), in particular through this project, as I am more content, as I am happier, I want others to feel the same. Things that bothered me in the past seem silly now. Anger has changed for me as well. I am angry about things that I see happening in the world that I cannot change, but I am finding it difficult to be angry with those I love most. Learning to let go of nonsense makes for a better life. Focusing on who and what we love can change all of us. Thinking about those single moments with the people you love, as well as those you will never know but have a split second with, can change a life, and you won’t even realize you did it. I guarantee that in that instant you can make the world a better place.

In amongst the photos at my Dad’s was a picture of my cousin Lorna’s son Oisin. As the world around me moves at lightening speed, Oisin is quite a bit older than when this photo was taken, but I loved it. Like the painting from last night it called to me. I experimented a bit with mixed media for tonight. Watercolor, pencil, and pen.IMG_1474

Acting On Inspiration

 

I spoke the other day of not quite understanding inspiration, what makes one idea or subject stand out more than another, why one photo calls to me more than another. That isn’t the case today. A friend of mine posted a photograph of his son and a friend on his Facebook page. From the moment I saw the photograph I wanted to paint it. I actually had turned to Dan and said, “You know what this is? It’s a painting, a watercolor painting.”  My friend labeled it, “Best buds on the bench.” I love the photograph, and I love the label. There is a nostalgia that emanates from this photo, an innocence that these days is too easily lost. As I said, I know why I wanted to paint this one. Mike, thanks for permission to paint your wonderful photo, for giving me inspiration, and I hope Ryan and his “Best Bud”, remain that way for a very long time. 9 22

 

A Plethora Of Pen

As a testament to how much I am enjoying the process of pen and ink, I did not one, but three sketches today, and all in I day where I wondered where I might find the time. I was cooking dinner for Brian’s birthday tonight, and as always it is the choice of the birthday boy/girl to decide what it is I will be cooking. Pastitsio, for those of you who are unfamiliar it is Greek lasagna. It can be complicated, and definitely time-consuming, but well worth the effort. Brian also doesn’t love cake and requested a French Silk Pie. Also a little complicated and time-consuming. Between the two I wondered where I might find time for art, but I did. First in the form of a homemade gift certificate, the second sketch while I waited for the base of my Pastitsio cream sauce to cool, and finally at the end of the evening when all was said and done, and everyone was groaning from the amount of food consumed (did I mention that I also made potato ravioli, with a brown butter Alfredo, crispy sage, and a little crumbled bacon?) We were sitting around the kitchen table talking, and I started to doodle. Sketch number three. So this is the part where I tell you all that this will be a very short blog tonight. I was on my feet all day, I ate too much, and I’m tired. This is one of those days when I forget just how old I really am. Lots of energy first thing in the morning, not so much energy by nine at night. Goodnight, I hope you like the work as much as I enjoyed creating it. And just to make you hungry, a photo of my pie.IMG_1465

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The Written Word

I have mentioned in the last several weeks that Dan and I are planning a business. The sales of books will be part of that business. We are both readers and book lovers, and we are proud to say our children are as well. In this day of electronics we still enjoy the feel of the book in our hand. I purchased an electronic reader for Dan a few years ago. He had insisted that he didn’t want one, but then on a business trip had found himself stranded at an airport that didn’t have a book store. He used the device quite a bit in traveling, and a little bit here at home, but eventually it gave way to the next device, on which he has very few if any books. I inherited the old one about two years ago, and as of yet have not put a book on it. I actually gave it to our son, and I believe it is somewhere in the pit of despair that he calls a bedroom. I have a favorite book, Jane Eyre. It was assigned to me by Sister Charlotte in my freshman year of high school, I dreaded reading it as I am not fond of the old English style of writing. Then I read the book, and read it again, and again. I believe I am somewhere past thirty times at this point. I even treated myself to a very early edition a few years back. Last year when the new Jane Eyre film came out I waited anxiously to see if for once someone would get it right. I’ve seen several versions and the casting has been way off. This was no exception, Mia Wasikowska was perfect as Jane, but Michael Fassbender is far too handsome for Mr. Rochester. I need to cast the next version, and by the way, I was the one screaming out in the middle of the movie, “That never happened!” Anyway….my point is that I love the written word, I love poetry and song lyrics, books of all kinds, and quotes, love, love quotes! Books were the escape for a lonely girl with no friends (I believe I’ve made reference to my dear Nancy Drew in the past), and the extraordinary Diary Of Anne Frank. I could go on and on, there are so many books that have meant so much to me, and given me great joy as well as great sadness. When I hear that a book has been banned I can only wonder what everyone is so afraid of. The written word is a gift, sharing a favorite book, or story connects us all. Our hope is to share our passion with others. I somehow can’t imagine that when I am blessed with a grandchild that I would want to give them an electronic device as a keepsake for their first birthday. The Velveteen Rabbit looks much better on paper. I didn’t have a lot of time for art today, something much more pressing took precedence (explanation below). I did exactly what I hoped to tonight, which was more pen and ink. Not as much as I wanted to do, but I believe something I will be using in my new endeavor, a book-plate. Pen and ink and colorized in Photoshop, with text added. Post of original sketch and finished book-plate.

As for what took precedence today? Twenty three years ago today I gave birth to a beautiful eight pound nine ounce boy, who has now grown into a wonderful young man. Happy Birthday Brian. Love you! (I know, its embarrassing, but that’s my job.)scan0001

The written word from me: Time knows no master, memory is our only ally, so make them good ones. You can quote me on that.015

Book Plate

 

Impatient

Not my best day artistically. I think I’m still running on empty from our trip. I scraped the paint off of a canvas not once but twice today. Things were just not working for me. To be honest I gave a moments thought to taking my scraped off canvas and turning it into an abstract. Unfortunately and fortunately for me I just can’t be a sellout when it comes to my work. The one and only abstract piece I’ve posted with this blog was an inspired piece, actually the only abstract piece I’ve ever created. That one was inspired by a piece of burnt copper, no matter how long and hard I looked at that scraped canvas today it gave me nothing. I finally walked away from it. I looked through my studio and found one of my old orphaned paintings. It was flat and lifeless. I threw it on the easel and began to work with the paint muck I had created with my scrapings. It had turned a very strange sort of lavender. I just went with it, I didn’t want to waste the paint. As always I was much too impatient, the “muck” began to get muddier. I had to pull myself back, wipe off my brushes and begin again. I found what worked for me eventually was to go with a more impressionistic stroke,  in the end I feel like the painting has too much paint, but on the positive side it isn’t flat! And I didn’t give up. I have to admit that today was the first time in a while that “I’m not good enough” snuck back into my brain. It all comes down to oils and my lack of patience. I keep making the same mistakes and expecting different results. I’m going to let the scraped canvas cure and attempt something with what remained on the canvas. I hope for better results the second time around.9 17I may have had a bad artistic mojo day, but I did empty the photos from my phone. In previous blogs I have mentioned both Prairie Crossings and McDonald Woods, both north of Chicago near my Dad’s house. We had the opportunity to grab a few early morning walks before my Dad was awake last week. The McDonald Wood photos are in Dan’s  phone and I’ll have to grab them tomorrow, but for tonight a few from Prairie Crossing.IMG_1371 IMG_1376IMG_1355A little slice of heaven on the prairie.

Turbulent Sketching

I’ve survived the flight! Actually two flights since we had an hour plus layover in Phoenix. I was up a half hour before the alarm this morning. I don’t believe it was preflight jitters, I’m one of those odd people who don’t need an alarm. If I know that I have to be up to go somewhere, I’m up with time to spare. The flights themselves were uneventful, although there was just a bit of turbulence. I took my xanax, grabbed a sketch pad and relaxed for the flights.The only real issue I came across was the inconsiderate behavior of one of my seat mates. I admit it, I freakishly like the middle seat on the plane. (I guess so that I’ll somehow be cushioned in the fall from the sky). Dan was on the aisle, and this very tiny woman came on board after us and took the window seat. Small woman, big space hog. For the next two and a half hours I was elbowed, hit in the back of the head, and had her stuff pushed on top of my feet. To make matters worse, when we exited the plane I went into the lady’s room, the tiny one came in right after me. As we waited for an open stall she gushed about what a gentleman my husband is because he helped her with her bags both getting on and off the plane, and then she cut in front of me in line. I was about to say something, but remembered my vow not to get mad, so I didn’t. Do I feel better for not saying anything? Not at the moment. But I’m sure I’ll move on….in about a year or until someone else aggravates me.

I had planned to do a watercolor on the plane, but I found myself instead drawing Maddie, she is a very dear girl, and getting prettier everyday.  I’m not quite finished, I need to look closer at the photo in better light. That I will do tomorrow. But not bad on Xanax and turbulence.image

A New Process

I again find myself fascinated by an artistic process I know nothing about. Encaustic Art, an ancient technique using melted wax and oil tints. I’ve seen a few projects and thought they were beautiful. So of course me being me, I set out to play with a technique I have no idea how to do. Did I get a book? Yes. Did I read it? Sort of. I read enough to get a general idea, and to learn that they are some health and safety regulations. A little more about me. I am beyond klutzy, a good friend who sells insurance suggested I get insured, not life or health, but accident. I have already revealed the accidental slit wrist, the six knee surgeries, etc…but it goes well beyond that. I think I have an oven burn to commemorate every holiday dinner I have prepared. As for inhaling fumes, my daughter once told me that the smell of polyurethane reminds her of home. Never bothering with a mask, or to work outdoors (although in all fairness to me, Chicago in the winter? You work inside if at all possible). I now have chemical allergies. All in the name of art. I’d like to think at this age I’ve learned to behave. That of course means I went ahead and worked with some wax. I didn’t have all the materials mentioned in the book, but I did have a box of tiny candles that I bought for a dollar several years ago. Trial and error is my mantra. Officially known as “Art by the seat of my pants”. When you’ve never had lessons, it’s a way of life. I melted wax and poured it over a black and white print of one of my photos. Error number one, it needs some reinforcement  under it or it will curl under the weight of the wax. Back to the drawing board. Also changed my mind about the photo. I originally was using photo of an angel from a gravestone. I switched to one of my cloud photos from a few days ago. This time I mounted the photo which was printed on matte paper, to a piece of black foam core board. I have altered the color of the photo slightly, intensifying the hue. I then added just a hint of yellow ochre oil paint to the melted wax. I poured it over the photo. I loved the effect, a cloudy, dreamy feeling. I went back with white oil and added highlights to a few areas, rubbing them in with my fingers. I was very happy with the result. Then as I looked at the finished piece I thought it needed words to go with it. Dan had been looking over my shoulder and really liked where it was going, so I decided to dedicate it to him. I found a quote about love and time, it just seemed to fit with the photo. I will definitely be experimenting more with this technique, and I might actually even read the book!9 2The quote translates to: “Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time: effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end.

Madame de Stael