Paint By Numbers

What kind of sermon illustration will I be? Yesterday, a pastor from the Vietnamese Baptist Church came over to tour the studio and do an interview as part of a sermon on creativity and the arts. He brought a fella along to videotape our interview as well. It was a first for me. Super nice guys; they made me feel completely at ease; hopefully whatever I ended up saying will be well edited. The pastor sent the questions in advance. Even still, I felt ill-prepared.

The main facet to his questions had to do with the difference between painting by numbers and the type of art I create; and the difference between painting and just taking a photo. Looking back, I still am not quite sure how to answer either question. It must have something to do with my personality type that I was trying to think of the question behind the question. What did he want to prove? That painting by numbers is a valid form of art? That painting is more creative than photography...or vice verse? In my feeble explanations, I neglected to say that when I paint (I've said this here many times,) I focus on the big picture. What's curious about that, is that as I leave out *unimportant* details, I draw attention to, if I do it well, one thing, which in turn becomes the focus, or detail.

Perhaps the question is, how does one incorporate an artistic focal point in one's life and be fully engaged and intentional in how one lives creatively? I hesitate to use the word intentional. It's become such a buzz word, especially in Christian circles. Shouldn't we all live life on purpose? Even painting by numbers can be done intentionally. At least some sort of creating is getting done. Like my grandmother used to say, "I'm going to do something, even if it's wrong." Not to be cavalier, of course, but do something! Painting by numbers is still painting.

To completely change the subject and explain the photos, last night a small crowd of neighbors all came over for cake and cupcakes. I love our neighborhood. In truth, we were celebrating friendship, but it also just so happened to be Jenni's birthday...an extra bonus!

Welcoming Tidbits

If you are here because of the Houston Chronicle artbeat blog article, welcome.

After much ado, as of yesterday, I've finally gotten all the bits in place for the mosaic. They aren't actually set and grouted, but are placed where they need to be....according to me. One of my favorite vases (and prop for still lifes) met an untimely demise, and is now a beautiful bit of sky. (See vase in Magnolia painting.)

Also, I've gathered and coordinated enough bits of copper, saw blades, and plumbing parts for eight more clocks. These are time and labor intensive to make. The plan is to start a clock making assembly line and work on all eight at the same time.

So far, the commission (which must remain a secret) is really taking shape. I ran out of Holbein silver white paint, though, so had to stop and order some from Amazon online. There is no Holbein silver white paint available at all in a 30 mile radius of the greater Houston area. One would think that in a city as diverse and cosmopolitan as Houston, that someone somewhere would have a 110ml (3.7 fl oz) tube of Holbein silver white oil paint. If it's here, I couldn't find it.

The Amazing Reese has been working on frames for the paintings that will be in Simply Art Gallery in Galveston. A year ago when someone bought something and wanted it framed in one of Reese's gallery frames, we "borrowed" a frame from our daughter Joy's painting. In addition to everything else, he finally replaced that one for Joy, too.

It's been a busy week.

Art Walk

Through August 1st, I'll have some paintings in Simply Art Gallery in Galveston. The next big event for the gallery is Art Walk on May 24th. Art Walk is a time when gallery spaces in Galveston coordinate to keep their doors open and host a progressive open house art party of sorts. In the spirit of goodwill and comradeship, they encourage visits between all of the other galleries in the area. A day at the beach, a walk on the Strand, and sipping wine while viewing (and buying) beautiful art....who could ask for anything more?

Some Lemon

When life fives you lemons, make lemonade? Our life has been chock full of lemons lately. It's like the universe has a trebuchet aimed at us and keeps filling it with Texas sized lemons (like this one.) We got yet another piece of disappointing news today. It's so disheartening. Will it ever end?

That's a dinner plate y'all. It grew on one of our neighbors trees.

And yes, I'm making lemonade.

For Work and Pleasure

Yesterday was spent painting Little Joe; something I have planned since March. That's actually not a bad turn-around for me. Some paintings (or ideas for paintings) have been in the works for years.

A patron has recently commissioned me to paint something precious for them. Because my time has been divided between pursuits, some art related/some not, I felt a bit rusty. One of the biggest reasons for me to paint Little Joe now was to get the eye of the tiger back.

This is exactly my vision for this painting. Now to work on the commission....

Times

How many times have I forgotten the amount of work that goes into various details of whatever project on which I happen to be working? Almost always. For whatever reason, I never seem to remember that detail work requires copious amounts of time and and an endless supply of patience. This clock for instance; someone commissioned me to build it. (I had built another one several years ago.) I glibly agreed that it could be easily completed in two weeks, forgetting, of course, all the precise detail work and steps required to properly assemble said clock. Precise means exact; if one aspect of this clock is even slightly off, then the whole thing is useless. I had to ask "the commissioner" for more time to complete the clock.

The face of the clock is an old saw blade. The frame around it is copper tubing. And there is an old gas valve attached to the top of the frame.

Macho Macho Fern

What a week. I've been working on a variety of art related stuff; too many things to tell stories about it all. Maybe I'll tell the stories some day.....

This is an 10" x 8" painting of a Macho Fern from my backyard. A dear friend asked for a leaf painting....hope she likes it.

Anna updated her blog recently. Her April 20th entry amused me immensely.

The Rose Garden

My friend Joan and I painted together in the Rose Garden one week ago. This is another of the 10" x 8" paintings I've done recently.

The weather was lovely, a little on the chilly side for April in Houston. It would have been HOT if we had gone today. The last time I painted outside the wind blew the canvas right off the easel. That painting still has bits of the Japanese Garden embedded on it's surface.

The Amazing Reese reminded me about a useful tool he had created for me a while back. It's a little viewfinder that I can adjust depending on the size of the canvas. For instance, for an 8" x 10" canvas, one pushes or pulls in the sides so that the artist can focus on what will actually fit on the canvas. Because of this contraption, I was able to immediately focus on what to paint. Thank you, Reese.

Another

A Painting

It's a little 10" x 8". I've done several paintings this size lately.

Come back tomorrow to see another.

A Tube of Paint

$54.95 + tax. It's the most expensive tube of paint I've ever bought.

Part Anna/Part Amaryllis

Reese and I drove to Austin yesterday for the opening of the Austin Community College student art exhibit, in which our Anna has a piece! Here, Anna and I are posing in front of Anna's copper plate lithograph. She described the process several times, but I still don't understand. It's very complicated.

The name of the piece is "Parts." She has drawn various bicycle parts and equally random body parts and combined them in one drawing in and around each other....quite specific with the details. It's modern with a hint of the ancient -- almost da Vinci-esque, especially with regard to da Vinci's medical journal drawings.

This morning when I let Skipper in the back yard, I noticed these gorgeous amaryllis'. My mother-in-law Elise gave me this plant years ago, but never before has it bloomed (in our garden) like this. The story (without proper reference) was that it came from a Texas farm near Giddings. Elise's father's boss hosted a spring picnic every year. One year, the boss's wife dug some bulbs up and gave the amaryllis to Elise's mother (Grammy) who grew it in her garden. Grammy eventually dug up some bulbs and gave it to her daughter (my mother-in-law) who grew it in her garden. Elise gave one bulb to me when I was a more diligent gardener than now. There's not enough to share yet, but some day I'll pass it along, too. There's a little more to the story than that....but I can't quite place the small bit of paper on which the specifics are recorded.

"Miss Sonya"

Miss Sonya runs a little restaurant in Negril, Jamaica. I'm pretty sure we ate something that day with ackee, maybe conch soup, or jerk chicken...or all of the above. The food was amazing, yet secondary to Miss Sonya's hospitality. She came out of the kitchen more than once to see how we were enjoying our meal, always with this big smile on her face.

This painting has been planned for just shy of two years. This is what I painted when I woke up and thought of my daughter asking is it some day today?

Painting this was more pleasure than work.

Canoe Buffalo Bayou

The bayous around Houston aren't exactly known for their cleanliness. When we talked to one of our daughters shortly before our canoeing adventure began, she said, "Are you crazy?!! Don't fall in! You'll end up with three arms instead of two." (I'm not sure if she was talking about us growing an extra limb, or perhaps bumping into someone else's missing body part....ew. Either is a legitimate possibility.)

Our canoe guide had a quite a lot of information to share. I zoned out for most of it. When he pointed to the same tree for the fifth time, and said, "Look, there's a crepe murder (myrtle)."...well, it got old fast.

Mostly we saw trash, large amounts of trash; trash on the banks, trash in the trees, trash in the water. But we also saw cute turtles, chirpy cardinals, scary snakes, a 4-5 foot long alligator, a beaver (I think), and poison ivy.

All in all, it was a pretty great day.

10 Things

1. It's often a hindrance that I am disorganized, especially with regards to paperwork. How I manage some days is beyond me.

2. Today I spent way too much time looking for one particular piece of paper. It should have been where I thought I put it.

3. I have no idea where else to look.

4. Last Christmas, this exact same thing happened. I spent days looking for a particular drawing. I finally found it just a few weeks ago, where I had looked countless times before.

5. When I haven't painted in a while, I wonder if I really know how to paint, or if it's all a fluke.

6. It's a huge relief to paint something and have it turn out like I envision.

7. It's a bummer to work on a painting and never be quite satisfied with it.

8. Most nights I have no idea what to fix for supper.

9. French is not the easiest language to learn, though I'm not practicing as much as I should.

10. I need a nap.

Some Day

When our daughters were small, we would often go downtown to have lunch with Reese. This was usually an exciting adventure. There were tunnels to explore, cookies to eat, and elevators to ride.

Mr. Roger's Neighborhood was practically the only television show we allowed our daughters to watch back in those days. Mr. Rogers was always kind and gentle, and never talked down to his young audience. Every episode had a fantastic trolley going from Mr. Roger's house to The Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

At the time, Houston had just implemented a new trolley system to shuttle people around downtown and promote goodwill. When our daughters saw the new trolley in downtown Houston, they endlessly pleaded to go for a ride. Of course, I think they thought it would take them to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. We were usually pressed for time, so our standard parental response to their impassioned query was always, "we'll ride the trolley some day...."

One day Reese and I stood in line with our young daughters at the trolley stop. This was before they could read, and they had no idea what we were doing. When our oldest daughter realized that the trolley had stopped right where we were standing, she looked at us, her big brown eyes filled with excitement, and said,

"Is it some day today?"

"Yes," we smiled, "it's some day today."

That's exactly how I felt yesterday morning. I woke up, and excitedly asked in my heart, "Can I paint today?" And I thought of my daughter asking is it some day today? "Yes, I can paint today."

And I did. Painting yesterday was magical....just like that trolley ride with our daughters so long ago...

Last Week

It's been a long time between posting
but that is because I was hosting
my two daughters fair
one with curly hair
wine glasses went clinking while toasting.

One daughter came in for a wedding
brought home a young man for the fete-ing
dinners and luncheons
and all of the functions
kept them running and other jet setting.

The wind blew in daughter two, too
who came to get the tent blue
for camping she went
in that big blue grey tent
in West Texas where people are few.

Then along came two sweet Norwegians
choir members sent here on a mission
to spread some good cheer
from Galveston to here
while singing and not deep sea fishin'.

Last, there was a wonderful dinner
prepared by a chef -- what a winner
I provided the house
and appetite aroused
we feasted from six until tenner.

In a nutshell, that was last week
it was fun though I'm ready for sleep
or another glass of wine
to toast new friends fine
and ready my heart for this week.

Hi Ho

At the very least, it looks like a lady holding a baby.

This was started for a particular figurative show but didn't get finished in time. It's painted on a thick weave linen.

This is also one of those paintings that was a struggle to paint. I don't know why that happens; why some paintings I toil over almost from the beginning. On paintings like this I wish I had seven little dwarfs to help me work.

Little Joe

This is the little cowboy I supervised at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo today. Let's call him Joe.

On the bus ride to the rodeo, Joe asked me, "Why is your hair so white?" When I answered because I'm old, he said, "My grandma has white hair and she is old. Your face isn't old. Why is your hair old?"

It was Joe's first time at the rodeo. He was excited about everything; petting goats, seeing baby chicks, seeing pigs and ponies, watching a cow get milked, and eating a corn dog. He said "Hi Mr. Cowboy!" to every grown man in a cowboy hat and boots. There are a lot of Mr. Cowboys at the rodeo.

On the bus ride home I asked little Joe what his favorite thing at the rodeo was.

"Talking to you," he said.

Wonky Eyeballs

The newest painting I'm working on is (to me) quite challenging. For whatever reason, the lines are ending up all wonky, eyeballs are in the wrong place, and lips way too large. If this was my intent, it would be fine. But it's not. Quite the opposite, in fact. So for this painting, I have resorted to doing math.

It's not the first time I've used basic math to finesse a painting. Fibonacci and his theories of beauty are often considered when I paint. OK, maybe not often, but frequently enough that I sometimes get out a ruler. It's been a while since I've used a ruler while painting, but the trial of what I'm working on now has prompted a re-visiting of the 12th century's famed mathematician's theory of divine proportion.

And the painting that yesterday looked like The Joker, is now less creepy to view, though still not ready for public consumption.

Mostly Finished

"Hilary Holding the Baby" is mostly finished. It will dry for a while before I do anything to it again, if ever. I re-worked the baby's dress and added highlights to Hilary's hair. I also added some lighter skin tones in the baby's face to round it out a bit.

The baby is the much loved and prayed for adopted daughter of our dear friends, Joan and Kevin. Every time I see her I am amazed at how much she resembles her parents.

A few Sunday's ago, we visited the St Paul's United Methodist Church where Hilary sings in their choral scholars program. During the service, there was a baptism. Reese and I were especially moved by the congregants response, which I would like to repeat over this precious one.

"With God's help, we will so order our lives by the example of Christ, that this precious one, surrounded by steadfast love, may be established in the faith, and confirmed and strengthened in the way that leads to eternal life."

Unfinished

On Monday and Tuesday, all housework was abandoned in favor of painting. It dawned on me that it was the first time using my new pallette. For Christmas, Reese had a glass top cut to fit the desk in the studio. The entire desk top can now be used as a pallette. It's great. What's a little sad, though, is that it's been so long since I last painted. Two months (since I last painted) is too long to wait.

This painting will have some wispy highlights added to the hair of the young lady, and I am thinking about changing the color of the baby's dress. Even though I generally avoid adding details in my paintings, this one will need a few other minor adjustments before it's finished.

There was a modest internal struggle over whether or not to post this photo since it's a work in progress.

Honeyboy Edwards

Reese and I just got back from Austin. We went to the Cactus Cafe to see Honeyboy Edwards play some good old fashioned Mississippi Delta blues. Honeyboy is so old that when we first got wind that he was scheduled to perform, we held our breath hoping he would live long enough for us to see him play. He was live all right. With the added inspitation of having just won a grammy, he played for two hours straight. It was hypnotic, like being in church. Deep down one knows the preaching is good, and even with a few amens one's soul is lulled -- takes a breather -- like a good afternoon nap on the Sabbath day of rest, and heavy eyelids start to droop.

My roots are deep in Mississippi soil. Hearing Honeyboy play was a comfort....like going home. This music must have floated in the air, on the river, and grown in the soil of my childhood home. Honeyboy's music nourished me deeply; I am satisfied.

Artist Statement

I've been debating whether or not to publish my newly refined artist statement. Please don't copy it without my permission.

"Art is beauty in ordinary moments.

My work is most accurately described as postmodern, except that it is not limited to figurative work. It has been influenced by the Impressionists, Neo-Impressionists, and Post-Impressionists. There is a realistic quality to my work, but it is more about a moment, rather than getting bogged down in details. I purposefully leave out details in order to tell a better story with my paintings. My work is slightly messy, utilizing bold strokes and bright colors. Even so, the general impression is one of tranquility.

Subject matter for my paintings is propelled by my personal belief that common moments are beautiful and worth capturing in a two dimensional format, in my case, oil paints on linen. My audience is people who appreciate being gently reminded that daily life is full of small beauties....as simple as holding a child, practicing the piano, the clump of trees at the end of the block, or even flowers gathered from one's backyard.

A luxury of being a self-taught artist is picking one's influences. Being a long time fan of the Impressionist movement of the late 1800s, and of Cezanne and Matisse, it would hardly be a stretch to say that my style has been heavily influenced by studying this group of artists in books and museums.

Above all, my life as a stay-at-home mother -- taking my daughters to museums, the park; eating supper together nightly; laughing and growing together -- has been the greatest influence on my work. Having the full support of a loving husband has allowed my creativity to blossom in all areas of life. It wasn't until I started painting, though, that I found my heart's desire."

Blessed Blue Skies

Just shy of two years ago, I started my third mosaic project. Honestly, by now I thought it would be finished. But with more pressing art commitments, the mosaic project got put on hold. First, it languished in the studio. Then it was moved to the study, which was completely out of everyone's way...except for one thing. We moved into this house when our daughters were ages 6-12. We never had babies living here. But I love babies, and encourage all of our friends with babies to visit often. It never fails that something somewhere is not baby proofed.

All the tiles were in place for what my overactive imagination thought was a masterpiece. Isn't it amazing how much little humans are fascinated by small prettily colored bits of ceramic. One event at our house with more than two little bitties, and the great work was but a distant memory.

Settling into my studio again after the holidays, it dawned on me that the timing was perfect for finishing (starting) the mosaic project -- again. Enter Helen. I met Helen when Reese and I went to Palacios for an afternoon. She came over yesterday for coffee, and when she found out that I needed sky tiles for my mosaic, she just so happened to remember that she had been saving some broken plates and bowls...and three of them were blue! She very generously gave them to me. Who else in. their. right. mind. would get so excited to receive someone else's broken dishes as a gift? This is a very rough photo of the beginning of the tweaking phase of this motley mosaic. It's still a long way from being finished, but I see blue skies ahead.

Bless the little children for "messing up" my previous work. This is so much better than what I had before.