|First Christmas for Willie 2007|
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
|Escape, ink on paper|
Evidently, escape has always been on my mind. When I was four or five, I'd borrow Mom's high heels, get her pocketbook, and wait for the Greyhound bus to take me away. Odd, isn't it, that my parents allowed me to play beside the highway?
When I get the stance right, this will be a painting. Okay, maybe I'll work on my size, too--I'm taller than the Amoco sign! For the drawing, I moved the King Edward Cigar sign (great for target-practice) across the road.
Happy Holidays. I'll be working on cards, shopping, and minimal decorating (nothing stops me from drawing, though).
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
This is what the house looked like when we moved back in after remodeling five years ago. This is what I hope the house will look like again. The cleaning ladies never showed up--we hired them as a favor to a friend. Was it because I said "no copper polish, no Pledge on my furniture, and no scouring of the countertop?" Was it me? Was the floor too much? Too much dirt? I think I'm more relieved than disappointed (and a bit ticked off that I got out of bed early--8 a.m.).
Dave and I were not surprised when they didn't show; it's a common occurrence here in southern Virginia. Contractors and workers smile and take measurements and say "yes;" many never return or call. Later--when you meet at restaurants or parties--everyone pretends that all is well. I pitch their cards.
I am pleased that, after my frantic prep work, there's a chance the house will be ready for the Holidays. Tomorrow is art day at the YMCA--no cleaning.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
|Adolescent Pears, pencil on cover stock, 7x7|
I was drawing at night because I've been cleaning my house--anticipating the cleaning ladies who are scheduled to show up tomorrow. First, I found my ironing board--buried under art supplies--and read directions for the steam iron (I skipped HomeEc). I have washed and ironed seven ivory Pottery Barn linen drape/shades (I would have ordered new ones but they're no longer a Pottery Barn item); the window sills are clean; the top of my stove is clean; the dining room table is almost cleared of catalogs; the outside of the microwave is clean; most of the kitchen backsplash tile is clean; and I washed and ironed six hand-painted pillow covers. Why do I like off-white and ivory? Tonight I will tackle the inside of the microwave and clean the hard-to-reach corners of the backsplash. Thank goodness the cleaning ladies aren't going upstairs--I'd be exhausted. (The art supplies from atop the ironing board are piled on the floor.)
I'm beginning to think senescence is a lot like adolescence--tomorrow night I go back to playing for two weeks. Maybe I can play neatly.
Monday, November 22, 2010
|Copper Bowl and The Three Pears, acrylic on 24x24 cradled panel|
Friday, November 5, 2010
|Homage to the South|
We have very good grass cutters and leaf picker-uppers but it was time for more than maintenance. Shrubs were overgrown, ivy was reaching under the back porch of my workshop, and rose bushes were buried under hollies and camellias. I found master gardener Kathy McNulty and asked her to stop by. After walking around my yard, she told my neighbors (who were visiting on the porch) that she might be finished in 2012. Kathy is quite the comedienne. She showed up Tuesday at 10 a.m.--as promised--and set to work.
|The Garden Ho|
|November on Commerce Street|
My small southern town--Clarksville VA--did a great job of picking up the debris.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Oct 23. I just received a compliment on my "Vacuum Pope." (Maybe a title?)
Friday, October 15, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
|6:55--We're ready. Me, my brother Bob, my sister-in-law Mary|
|Margie and Terry McHose (sculptor)|
|Food and Wine|
|Carolyn and one of her arrangements|
|People showed up.|
|Some of us played.|
|My across-the-street neighbor, Larry, thinks his house should have been included in this painting. Is it under the mat?|
|The bouncer kept everything in check. (Watcher Woman is standing in the front yard of his childhood home.)|
Saturday, October 2, 2010
I sold several paintings before the show opened and the meet-the-artists reception is next Saturday, the 9th.
The guest books from the last two shows were used as a mailing list (along with the museum's list). Unfortunately, lots of guests didn't leave their addresses--just their names--and many people have P.O. boxes, so I'm taking a cue from the book, Freakonomics, and its discussion of incentives. I framed the small watercolor "What Chicken?," and it will be a giveaway--place name & address in a vase; I will mail the work to the winner of the drawing. I'll let you know how that works.
I included the painting below, "1963," in the exhibit only after she had a purpose. She was propped against the wall for several months while I wondered why I had spent time on it. I added a plastic cape--she's being groomed for all the careers open to women in the early 60s. It will give viewers something to discuss (after they've discussed "He Beat His Mules" which was retitled "The Spell").
Friday, September 24, 2010
These are some of the pages--I omitted the pole-dancing (actually, beam-dancing) woman. I'm not sure using a catalog in this way is okay but it has my name on it (and I like their products). I'll call this "The Blue Women of (my town)" or "While You were Away." DWR, Frontgate--I get all the catalogs.
Hmmm...........homemade recycled Holiday gifts for friends; everyone gets a catalog with surprise pages.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
If I disappear for a while, I can probably be found in the chaos of my workshop. I'm doing that last ten percent of work on several paintings because I will be exhibiting new works at MacCallum More Museum & Gardens beginning October 1. The exhibit will include works by sculptor Terry O'Hose; meet-the-artists reception will be Saturday October 9, 7 to 9 p.m.
Some pieces are out being matted and framed; some pieces need varnish (that's done on the back porch of the workshop); some pieces will be framed by me when the frames arrive on Tuesday (that's done on the guest house floor).
Also, workers will arrive Monday to paint our tin roof and power wash our house, guest house, and workshop. I'll need to be careful walking in and out of doors.
I was invited to exhibit paintings at the Arnold Library in South Hill VA; older works have hung there since September 1.
On October 2--after the Library exhibit is dismantled and the MacCallum More exhibit is hung--I might have a straight shot of Jack Daniels or Maker's Mark.
I no longer dream of being organized; the last-minute method somehow works for me.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
In early July I was re-reading The Celestine Prophecy, a book that pretty much says there's no such thing as a coincidence and that memories pop into your head for a reason.
A memory had popped into my head--I recalled a woman in a park in D.C. My children and I had visited Whistler's Butterfly Room exhibit and were taking a people-watch break, sitting on a bench in a small park. An older woman, using her hands as binoculars, constantly turned in a circle. Each time the "binoculars" landed on me I was very uncomfortable; we left the park.
I thought of painting the woman and drew a sketch.
Then I read Harry Kent's blog from July 25. He said "I believe the elderly, because they've seen so much, have a particularly important social role to play as reviewers and commentators."
I agree--I think we should be training our eyes on what's happening in our small towns; what's happening off our shores or on Wall Street, what's happening to our old forests.
Then I read Donna Iona Drozda's blog from July 26 that said look back to July 12; what were you thinking of during the solar eclipse? (I was thinking of watcher woman and taking photos of my local landmarks.)
And then I later followed Donna's Luna See newsletter to her "What's up?" article and it showed a triangle--the shape of the arms and head of the watching woman.
I couldn't decide whether I should jump with joy or hide under the covers--I felt I had tapped into something beyond coincidence.
With the exception of the "Celluloid Man"detour, due to wrong-sized canvas, this painting has been in the works since early July. This is the first Watcher Woman and she's looking East towards my home town. When I was six and needed a vaccination before entering first grade I screamed from this overpass to Dr. Winston's office in town (maybe two miles) and I was riding in the back of a neighbor's truck!
Watcher Woman is a tough-looking broad and I think she looks like the woman from the park 35 years ago (maybe a bit like my friends and me) and the painting is 95 percent complete. The binocular stance is fun--try it.
* * * * * *
There is sadness on my street. My next-door Summertime/weekend neighbor passed away unexpectedly last week. She sat on my porch earlier this summer and read my blog on her laptop. Bess would have enjoyed this entry and would have said "That's Jack's yard!" I see her front porch from my kitchen sink; she'd be surprised at how much she's missed.
Monday, August 9, 2010
I pierced holes in the scalp for the hair. Epoxying the copper wires after firing was a bloody and time-consuming job (probably a bit like a hair transplant).
Life Artist left a comment on my July 16th blog entry: ".....age seasons us for art." Yes. I wonder, though, if the opposite can also work--that art seasons us for age.
This a 2010 photo; 25 years have passed since Uncle Red bore the brunt of my rage against age. Now I just walk quickly by mirrors. (When I walk by my eye-level clothes dryer, though, I cringe--my face reflection in the dryer door is 3X life-size!)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
I had primed this canvas but needed a different size for a planned painting. Rather than put the canvas away, I set up a palette with ultramarine, cadmium red, cadmium yellow, and white and began painting without a single thought--started with an oval.
I took a photo of the first day's work, printed it out and toyed with ideas--Self-anointed One and Candle Man. I needed a reason for the melting (other than the heat here in southern Virginia). After a couple of days, a memory surfaced. Aha!
When I was very young (4 or 5) I loved a small celluloid doll that my father bought for me during our trip into town. As I sat with my mother in the front yard under the shade of the trees, she said, "If you strike a match to the doll's feet, she will smile." I did--and was horrified as I watched her melt. I cried for days. My mother had a great sense of humor but it was missing on that particular day--this is one of the few bad memories from my childhood.
Friday, July 16, 2010
(It took six attempts to get my head aligned with the faucet.)
Updated Sat., July 17. Wrap-around mirrors always fascinate and confuse me.