Behind the Facades

Behind Main Street Facades, South Boston VA
 alkyd, 14x11

I don't remember playing with blocks as a child but I enjoyed playing with my kids' blocks and Lincoln Logs.  I have a trunk filled with blocks in my workshop (and keep buying more); I still play.  This scene reminds me of my blocks of all colors, sizes, and shapes.

I've been away from blogging for a while--it was a hot month, a beloved aunt passed away, and I have a few paintings hanging in a group exhibit at MacCallum More Museum and Gardens in Chase City VA.  I have kept up with reading your blogs; I'll now get back to leaving my comments.

Third Thursday in South Boston

Six painted chairs were on display; there was great music; stores were open late, and lots of people showed up--despite the hot weather.

I almost bought my own painted chair. At $60, my left brain kicked in (I use it infrequently) and said "Buy it, take a deduction, and resell it for at least double at the October art show--a better return than the stock market." Bidding picked up and it sold to the lady on the stage. (Now I can legally deduct only the cost of materials--or was that law changed?)

Before the auction I took a walk looking for a breeze and, instead, found a beautiful side street. Celeste was right when she said backs and sides of buildings can be more interesting than fronts.

There was an underlying sadness at the event. The friend who talked me into painting the chair lost her daughter today--there was a car accident last weekend--and her grandson remains in the hospital. There was a silent prayer.

Watermelons and Flies

Saturday Night Watermelons, acrylic

(Seat and back were sanded; gesso was applied to area to be painted; at least two coats of acrylic paint were used; then an isolation coat; finally, three coats of archival satin varnish. All products were manufactured by Golden Acrylics.)

The owner of Sacs So Bo Eclectique asked if I would paint a chair for Third Thursdays. Third Thursdays are held in South Boston VA to raise money for arts. First I said "No;" then I said "Okay." How hard could it be? Answer: Very hard for someone like me, who usually paints without a plan.

A child's golden oak chair was delivered; I waited for it to tell me what it wanted to be. It said "I'm already beautiful and would like to be a footstool."

All my paintings have been on canvas or panels--a chair seat calls for a different perspective. I considered a painting of a robin's nest, or birds looking down at a parking lot (deciding which car to bomb), or a cup of spilled coffee. I wanted the beauty of the wood to show so I chose a napkin with cut-work; I don't have one so I made it up. What to put on the napkin--fruit, but fruit is boring. I saw a watermelon at the produce stand--not a seedless one but one with black seeds--like the ones from childhood.

I remembered summer Saturday nights as a child. Friends gathered at our country store--ten to twelve children. We played hide-and-seek, red rover, and jumped rope. A parent would bring out a home-grown watermelon and a large butcher knife. One well-placed whack of the knife cut three-quarters through the watermelon; then it was broken in half. The same method was used for each slice. We stood and ate our slices, bent over to keep drips off our clothes. I'd look up and see an older boy holding his dripping rind. "I'm gonna wash your face!" I'd run screaming and laughing through the yard; he'd catch me and rub the rind all over my face and hair. To bugs, I was the most attractive being in the Universe.

I don't think the bugs looked like these--I spent a lot of time researching flies. I know that they have large eyes and six legs. I could not determine whether their wings go up and down or back and forth. I guess these are Farber flies.



Working conditions were not ideal; I improvised. The chair fit perfectly over my trash can--just the right height.

A Good Read

My copy of this book by Alyson B. Stanfield arrived in March; I read it and ordered more copies for friends. This book is the reason I seemed almost organized at my art exhibits--invitations were mailed on time; my short artist's statement and business cards were on hand; there was even a guest book for visitors; I spoke to groups. Names and addresses are now close to being in a folder which will one day become data in my computer, and thank-you notes were sent. Until I read the book, blogging was just an often-heard word. Now I blog--I follow other blogs (and not just art blogs). Following blogs and the stock market is almost a full-time job.

Thanks to one of the suggestions in "I'd rather be in the studio," I actually left the comfort of home and looked at art last week. The Parsons-Bruce Art Association sets up an annual art exhibit at The Prizery, an historic tobacco warehouse, in South Boston VA--two floors of beautiful work by many talented artists.

I am grateful that I found this book. I considered mentioning it in an earlier blog but I only recently learned how to highlight words and add links. Hooray for old dogs learning new tricks!