Setting My World Right Again

We couldn't go anywhere for the holiday weekend because we had hay down in the field. The wind had blown my first raking of the hay all over the field and I re-raked it again yesterday morning. Sweet Farmer baled until 1:00 a.m. and the rest of the night was a bust as neither of us could sleep. He was either snoring, sneezing or flopping around like a fish - and I flopped right along with him. Long, Long night. It reminded me of when I cared for a sick baby eons ago.

I don't bounce back so quickly from those sleepless nights anymore.

Along with the work I absolutely had to do and no more, I did manage to paint a whimsical little painting with my new Golden fluid acrylics and I must say the pleasure of that has certainly lifted my spirits.

I realize a good night's sleep will cure most of my ills.

I realize that I can nourish myself with no more than a few new ounces of paint.

I realize that my spirits can be lifted in a matter of hours and a little play-time.

I realize I'm very fortunate because it takes so little to set my world right again.

Chasing Down Your Passion Like It's the Last Bus Of the Night

This new journal is full of animals! These goats have been running around in the pen of my mind trying to find a place to settle. I like them under the tree so I painted their collective portraits with acrylic and watercolors and water-soluble crayons, ink, and then took it to Flickr and added some more fun. It doesn't really matter whether you paint it, or digitally add interest, it's all your own creation and it amounts to play-time in the mind and soul. I'm also learning that if I have a certain look in mind, to stay with it - adding, taking away, until I see what I need to see. I don't think you have to be really good or talented, I think you have to be very tenacious to be an artist. For some of us, things have never just come easy by way of inherent talent or good genetics. Some of us have to be greyhounds with our nose to the ground, chasing the scent of our passion through every obstacle, totally focused, until we tree the desire of our hearts!

All things Hairy And Warm......

Have you ever stepped into a pen of dairy cows?? Well, this is what it feels like after about 3 minutes later because first they shy away. But then, with nervous curiosity they all slowly come forward, step-by-patient -step, moving together, lowering their sweet heads and their drooling chins, stretching their necks and noses to the safest point toward you to just get a whiff of the new "cow". And if you stand really still, you will have the unique privilege of feeling huffing, wild breath, moist and musty, the embrace of all things hairy and warm, and you will be part of an earthy, ancient dance of comradeship - that will be broken with nothing more than a sniffle or sneeze or the click of your camera.

I was there. And wanted to remember.

Trust & Insecurity

I watched a trailer of a video that I wanted to buy. A man named Cheng -Khee Chee was dashing beautiful delicious color on very wet paper and then taking it off and then adding dimension and detail of his favorite subjects - coys. It was only minutes but I had to try it. What did I have to lose but a 1/2 sheet of 340lb watercolor paper?

I decided to paint a horse - go figure. But I wanted to give up control and let the horse come floating out of the picture like this talented man's coys came to life before my eyes.

So I painted quickly, intuitively.

I painted with a bigger brush. I put massive amounts of color on and then I took it off. Crazy, huh?

I stopped myself and walked away even though I was having so much fun. He was still sorta damp when I took the picture. (click him to get more detail)

And don't laugh at this one... I kept my blurry reading glasses on so I could keep some softness.

And I like him. You don't hear me saying that very often. But he doesn't have all those hard edges and tiny bush strokes that I don't like. I didn't draw him, and erase him and over-draw him again - he just came out, because I trusted myself. I TRUSTED MYSELF!! Can you party with me right now!! Can you slap my butt while we do the happy dance? This is huge!! ....now i'm feeling uncertain....like maybe you won't like it and won't see what i see....that it's really better.., i think.... BUT, i'm gonna trust myself and push the publish button. .... and then wonder, is he finished....., is he just interesting to me,.... like is he good today, but not good tomorrow... hmmm...i'm already tired of looking at him... he just told me he didn't care whether i like him or not... he is what he is... He is what he is... today, and I'm enough today.

The Elusive Horse

Ahhh.... that ever elusive horse painting that gallops around in my head. I am getting closer and closer to you, my friend - you're just paintings away... and soon you'll hang on my bedroom wall as the center of interest and reflect and represent the passion, vibrance, and compassion of my marriage. You will breath the very essence of our intimate relationship and stand gloriously over our bed in triumph of an on-going and eternal love affair.

but for now, you're just a twinkle a my mind's eye.

This is a 8 X 10 piece done today with acrylics, my hands and brushes in my new journal. Thanks to the unknown but glorious model I found on the side of the road?

I totally understand......

Yeah. I totally get why it's fun to paint semi trucks. It took me a moment, but after my grandsons got into it, well, so did I.

I also really enjoyed putting hot pink spots from the paint-ball gun all over the old tin barn until it looked like a Betty Boop backdrop. Now that was funky.

And, the time that Gus woke his little brother up from a reeeeally good nap, I totally understood why the little fellow beat the crap out of his older brother until his own little hand hurt. I wouldn't do that, but I totally get why you would feel like doing it.

And I also understood that when you put on a long white t-shirt of Papa's that hits the floor that you feel like Jesus in a white robe, and the gray-haired cat could really be Moses if you stared long enough.

And I totally get why you would fake sleep and get someone to carry you up three flights of stairs, and then be so proud of yourself for upping a grown-up that you had to smile with your eyes closed, as they laid your little butt on the bed huffing and puffing. I mean, really, I would have to grin, too.

And there really is something sad, but cool about trapping a craw-dad in a glass and watching his creepy claws scratch frustratingly against his trap, and I would squeal like a girl too, if someone walked up behind me and pinched my neck.

And, man, Gus, you really took me back when you felt like a hero who won his first medal all because you shifted into first without a glitch and the little red car went putting on down the road like an ole pro was driving it.... that felt good to me too, buddy.

And, yeah, I could drive around the farm in the golf cart all day until dark chasing dragonflies and doing donuts in the pecan orchards, or at least until you threw my cell phone out and we had to hunt for it..... again.

But truly, when you are totally exhausted after being completely wound up, and you lay your little head on the pillow, I totally get that you finally think about the ones who cared for you all day, and in the dark remember to say so sweetly, "hey, i really, really, love you."

Hey, buddies, "I really really love you too!"........ and I get you, I totally get you.

The Tom Sawyer trick......played by grandma

If I could I would have taken a picture of my own self sitting on this bench reading my Kindle while my 7 year-old grandson was mowing my yard for the first time. It makes me smile. There are several reasons I taught him to do this job. He really likes to drive motorized things and he really likes to work so this job suited him well. But, okay, there is a selfish old woman inside everyone including me, and this picture makes me smile because I envision this child taking care of me and spoiling me in my old age like I've spoiled him. ..... but truly, it's not the reason I spoil him.... or is it???

Now the little one...he's like trying to train this kitten he's holding - which I call Obie and he calls Garfield, even though I tell him all the time that this kitten's name is Obie (but the kitten actually looks more like a Garfield).... and he just laughs...wickedly...like he knows I'll change my mind.

But he's funny as all get out and I guess that will count for something in my old, old age. He told me yesterday that he was God and the cat was Moses and that I should listen to them.

So I said I'd try.

He also told me that he knew some dirty words but that he would never, ever, ever, ever say them, and he proceeded to tell me all the dirty words he would never, ever say, and managed (or rather, manipulated) somehow to say every one without getting into a wink of trouble................... but after that I'm pretty sure he's not God.

They both steal my heart every moment of every day I have the priviledge of caring for them.

Gotta run.
Someone's callin.

Prayer and Practice

We can blame this one on Linda over at Vulture Peak Muse and this enchanting blog entry she posted not long ago on the artist, Franz Marc. I loved the video she provided and I had to know more. So I ordered two books- this one and this one because I was fascinated with the vibrant, electric colors and compositions. I love to draw animals but I want to draw exciting animal pictures so I literally ripped open the box at the post office and then devoured the pages in the parking lot, again at home and then nothing could have stopped me from trying to do something of what I saw.

This is a practice piece I did in my new journal. My church has commissioned me to do a large piece for the new foyer they are remodeling and I have been praying about ideas. I WILL NEED DIVINE Intervention to carry this off because I am not confident enough to paint such a public piece. I think the large painting might be better in acrylic or oils with more vibrant colors. I collaged a couple of birds and pieces of an old book (I will use an old Bible page on the next one...if this is it). It will be interesting to get a consensus. This is only practice so I could certainly use any ideas or critiques.

Those Darn Edges

This new little moleskin journal is going to kill me. Most people have trouble breaking a new book in, and I have trouble with a new book breaking me in.

I've wanted to do this sheep painting for awhile. It did not turn out exactly how I pictured it and for the life of me, I can't figure out why. I did every technique I knew to achieve the look I was going for and yet... well, it's a little frustrating. I think my edges are too hard.

Those darn edges. Apart from my art, even in my own spiritual and emotional growth, I know my edges need softening. I know as I rub up against others that my heart can be sanded smooth to be a more kinder, gentler odd chick. I wonder..... if I get my edges smoother in my personal life, if my art will reflect a more pleasing painterly style.... i wonder.....

New Moleskin -5th edition

I finished my 4th journal and ordered a new, larger moleskin with good watercolor paper. This is my first page and I had lots of fun trying to paint the different frogs and learning about each frog's characteristics. Steve Emery at Color Sweet Tooth has always inspired me with his beautiful watercolors and he has an orange frog painting that I love to re-visit in his gallery. Someday, I hope to paint a large painting of a frog, or maybe a collage of some type.

Speaking of frogs, or rather, little tad-poles, this little value sketch is roughly translated from a favorite photograph of my grandsons. There was pure joy on their faces as they "acted" like they were going to run over me in the golf cart. I wish I could have done the picture justice (the younger child is much cuter in the photo)but it was just very difficult for me to control the ink pen. But I had a great time trying.

Thanks to all of you for your encouraging words. I'm beginning to gain some ground, slowly but surely, and many of you have stayed with me as I've slowly progressed. Your comments mean more than you can know for someone in a little town with few friends or acquaintances that enjoy sketchbooks or painting. I think you all should know that you are a real part of my progress.