A Walk on the Arty Side of Town

During walks on my side of town, Willie waters all the mailbox posts and I check out the neighborhood--there are space-ship shaped mushrooms, an occasional snake, and weird-looking bugs. I have watched a neighbor's weed grow all summer--it's off the front porch and has reached roof height. One tall, arty-looking weed in a beautiful yard--it must be a statement. Maybe it says "I almost conform." From the street, the weed is beautifully framed by a hanging pine bough--today I used my camera.

I don't know the name of the weed--the bottom leaves are at least 12 inches wide and they have great veins. Several years ago I used some leaves to print onto watercolor paper; then I painted with acrylics. I named it Turmoil, 28x20.

It's nice living on the arty side--neighbors liked my red-ribboned hubcaps posing as Christmas wreaths, and no one has mentioned our missing shutter (it's behind the holly bushes, and those things attack).

Fun with Self Portraits

A very early sketch from my sculpting days--the 70's suburban mother-wife-Fed employee-sculptor with the station wagon.

Looking in the mirror, ca 2001.

Put your chin right there (after an ophthalmologist appointment) 2002.

Pineal Pansies, Bane of Astro-travel, (from a Polaroid shot up my nose) 2003.

Rage--I'm hanging myself but holding a barbed-wire whip, 2004.

Faux Orchid--I sat in front of a mirror for hours (living in an apartment while our house was being renovated--nine months with no digital camera available) 2005.

Eye on the table--a manipulated digital photo with my new toy (a magnifier used to enlarge early TV screens) 2007.

Ideating (a "yield" or "slow" sign appeared on my cheek; I left it) photo from 2007, painted in 2009.

In person I appear normal in my well-worn, paint-spattered denim shirts--boring! The next self portrait? I think I'll be looking at a map of heaven and hell--contemplating future travel. I hope to finish the painting before I make the trip (sometimes it's years between planning a painting and actuallly getting it done).

Drawing and Discovering

The Holly Springs art exhibit was taken down on Monday and I returned my favorite drawing to its owner--a neighbor who has bought three of my works. Nose to the Lens, white conte on black paper, is sort of a self-portrait; I would not do this to anyone else. I set the camera on the kitchen windowsill, leaned on the counter (my favorite bird-watching stance) and put my nose to the lens--in the sunlight! Every wrinkle is high-lighted and I added some for good measure; the eyes are not quite aligned as they watch, the nose bulbous, the eyebrows extra-long, the hair fly-away. I took many liberties and totally enjoyed doing this.

I also made a discovery. As I looked over my glasses at one of the stray strands of my colorless hair (used to be a redhead) I realized that, in sunlight, each strand contains the whole spectrum. The colors run across the hair--not up and down the strand! Amazing! Why didn't I know that? What happens to all the things I've learned when I die? Is there a giant data base someplace? What other amazing things are right under our noses--if we just take the time to look?

(Why has no one commissioned me to do their portrait?)