A Forgotten Sculpture

I had forgotten about this sculpture from 20 years ago, using white, gray, and red clay.  My son took the photos and emailed them down today (the shadows may be from stained glass front windows).  I am reminded of tragedies in Japan and Haiti.

I'm not sure it had a title--maybe, Together.  The thought was, no matter what race or religion, in the end we share the same world. 

This was left in Maryland.  Not only did our son get a good deal on buying our house, I took the easy route in moving and left a lot of stuff--clay, furniture, lawn mower, snow blower, sculpture.......he's considered charging me storage fees. 

Unable to Comment

Missing my comments the last few days? I tried--many times. I tried so many times that Google said there was unusual activity (it was me trying to comment) and denied access to my email account. Then my blog disappeared for a while. All is straightened out now. While I was working on gathering tax papers, my husband was installing IE9 on the desktop and the laptop. With those upgrades, I could not post comments on either computer. Cussing didn't help.

For a while I thought the blog universe was getting even with me for a comment I posted on William Cook's site earlier this week--something like "Why does your second drawing remind me of my mother grinding sausage?" His drawings were beautiful; his words were about star charts, string theory, and Calubi-You manifold. What?  Check out his blog.

Some of you might have thought I was prescient--first I paint a cemetery; then I disappear.  I'm back.  I'll catch up on comments soon.

Tabernacle Road in Winter



Tabernacle Road in Winter, oil on gessoed w/c paper, 18x24



I don't normally paint local landscapes; everything is usually just green. For ten years I have passed this scene and just noticed it last Sunday--I liked the farm on the hill--so I went out with my camera Monday. Seventy-mile-an-hour winds and no sun; I held onto my camera as I held onto the flagpole at The Tabernacle. Everyone blew their horns, a form of greeting here in SOVA. (Whoever you were, I couldn't wave back.) I rode up to the farm--it's abandoned--the house, barn, and outbuildings are falling down. Sad. This was an area of tobacco farms and textile mills--beautiful country with rolling hills, creeks and rivers.

I used the photo as reference but much got eliminated and even tombstones got moved. My original pastel sketch reminded me of Thomas Hart Benton.

hmm..........Thursday was my birthday and I was painting a graveyard.