The View from Rosa's Window

The Amazing Reese and I were having a leisurely Saturday breakfast with our friend Rosa at her apartment when I was completely and utterly enchanted by the view. I was also enchanted by good companionship, delicious blueberry oatmeal pancakes, and the all important indispensable morning cup of coffee.


This painting is a very good example of a style I define as "fuzzy realism". This isn't an exact copy of what was there, but rather the essence of the building and the clear, sunny day. Ideally, some of the allure and charm that I felt that morning is coming through on the canvas, too.

There are no exact edges in the painting for the very reason that I can't SEE clean perfect lines, not even when wearing corrective lenses....which I have a tendency to misplace, my glasses that is.....which is one of the reasons for the name of this blog. What drew me to the view, and the reason I wanted to paint it were the colors; the yellow wall against the Texas blue sky and the harsh shadow on the building. Silly me, I thought it would be easy to draw and paint. It wasn't. I drew it several times, wiping it off in each instance and nearly gave up on the whole idea.

It's a 22" x 28" oil on linen.

Home Sick

Doesn't it look like this house in east Austin threw up?


I don't know if it is, but it reminds me very much of work by collaborative artists, Dan Havel and Dean Ruck.

Gray Matters

Taking care of business:

1. Putting the finishing touches on Texas Grey, a 22" x 28" oil on linen. I actually started this painting last summer. Don't know why it took so long to complete. (?) Oh, snap. Yes, I do! One of my artist friends recently gave me a tip on how to mix greys. I tried her suggestion and voila! The painting was suddenly finished.


2. Painting the edges black on recent paintings. Looking at these three portraits, I can see stylistic similarities. For an artist, that's a good thing. Part of the similarities are due to the fact that when the models posed they were in the studio, which has this muted greenish blue wall, hence the background color.


3. Adding finishing touches to this still life, a quince, 9" x 11" oil on canvas. When I first painted this, it didn't have the middle stamen part because I couldn't see it. Yes, my eyesight is not great. I am not a fan of painting details, the biggest reason being that I can't see them.


4. Painting the 1/2" plywood base for the glass mosaic table top I'm starting. This is the "water" under painting for the mosaic that will be created on top of this. Does that make sense?

A Surface Issue

Long time friend and fellow artist, Lisa, graciously agreed to come over to the house and give me a tutorial on how to use the glass cutting tool that she recommended in order for me to make a glass tile mosaic.


Basically, I learned that it's going to take a LONG time to finish this project, especially considering that the surface area I'm working on is cardboard.....not that there's anything wrong with cardboard, it's just that it isn't conducive to permanency as a table top.



Originally, I thought that quarter inch plywood would be the right thickness for the table top, but it is now apparent that half inch plywood will be sturdier and therefore better for this. In the meantime, tile color selection for the table top is well under way, in spite of other commitments.....which is interesting, because EVERYONE said that once our kids were grown, that time would be all mine. It's a lie. OK, theoretically time is mine and always has been, but in actuality, time is for walking the dog, enjoying the neighbors, cooking, cleaning, vacuuming, laundry, winding down at the end of the day, and occasionally, there is discretionary time to devote in the art studio. Maybe I need a course in time management? Or maybe, this is what life is supposed to be. Yep, that's what I'm going with, because all in all, this life I'm living with the Amazing Reese here on Addison Road is pretty sweet.

Patronage

Last week, a good friend gave me a Rembrandt Soft Pastel Wood Box Set of 225 Assorted Colors. That means it's time to learn how to use pastels for more than just street art.


She gave me some used paint brushes and paints, too, plus turpentine and canvases; everything an artist needs to work. It's a huge blessing. Now I should have enough usable supplies to last a few months without having to replenish anything. So, I spent the day yesterday cleaning the studio, and the brushes, and taking inventory (of sorts) of the supplies in preparation of an impending flurry of artistically creative activity. Yay!

This is the same friend who, in the past, gave me a choice easel just as I was shopping, and trying to justify the expense of buying something so nice. God bless you, Debra.....and thanks.

The Final Countdown....Recipe

OK, because some very enthusiastic friends encouraged me use the abundance of lemons we had to make limoncello, and because we all wanted our fair share of the final product, we started with three 750 mL bottles of 190 proof Everclear and the zest of 36 lemons, or 12 lemons per bottle.

We soaked the lemon zest/Everclear mixture for I don't know, maybe three weeks (?), during which time a not insignificant amount of alcohol evaporated from the bowl, which left us with 8 1/2 cups of liquid, after removing the zest from the mixture.

We added 2 1/8 cups of water to make it 150-ish proof instead of the very strong 190 proof, like it was the last time making limoncello.

We toned down the addition of simple syrup as well, the proportions of which were 5 1/2 cups of sugar and 6 1/2 cups of water. To make simple syrup, heat the sugar and water on the stove until the sugar dissolves. Wait for it to cool to room temperature before adding it to the lemon zest infused Everclear. Here, one of my enthusiastic helpers, James, demonstrates this step.


Look at all the limoncello we made! It's definitely better than my last batch, not quite as sweet and not as strong of an alcohol bite. The end result is 35% alcohol by volume or 70 proof. One third of this belongs to the Reese Hazel family, so come on by and I'll serve us a drink or two.....or three.

Glass, A Misdemeanor

This week, I borrowed a glass cutter and tried my hand at making drinking glasses from used wine bottles. Step one was scoring the bottles with the cutter.


Step two was soaking the bottles in ice water.


When the bottles were properly chilled, I took them out of the ice water and poured boiling water over them. The idea was that the rapid hot cold shock to the glass would break the bottle along the line that was scored with the glass cutter.


These are the best of the bottles that were cut. As you can see, it sort of worked, but in actuality didn't. "Sort of" isn't good enough for this project. There must have been over a dozen bottles/glasses that were even more dangerously jagged than these in the photo, which would make drinking from them most unpleasant.


Of course, drinking from these glasses was the goal, which obviously isn't going to happen. The project was fun, exciting, and tedious work with nothing to show for it in the end. Oh, well.

Bucket List

On our morning walk with the dogs, we noticed a crowd gathering where there normally isn't a crowd. Turns out that the crowd was preparing to see a 25 story building in the Houston Medical Center get blown up. How cool is that?! Honestly, how many opportunities does one have to see a building, expertly laced with explosives (implosives?) blow up just blocks from your home?

If I had ever taken the opportunity to write a bucket list, watching a building implode would definitely be on the list.



It was so exciting to see it in person! We heard two thundering booms before I turned on the camera. I was so excited that I forgot to zoom. The enthusiastic background commentary (hollering) is all courtesy of yours truly. Also, just after the video ends, we were engulfed in the debris from the building that was floating on the air. Somehow, I hadn't taken this into account. Other people left immediately after the building imploded, or were wearing surgical masks to protect them from the soot. That was probably a smart thing to do. Um, yeah.

Time + Focus =

It's a 32" x 40" oil on linen painting of some trees within walking distance of our house. The Amazing Reese and I sometimes sit at some cafe tables near these trees, have a drink, and talk about ideas, people we love, and events in our lives.

I started working on this painting last summer. It sat on my easel for months waiting, waiting, and waiting for me to figure out what to do with it. I'm glad it took this long to get it done. It wouldn't have looked like this if I had worked on it before now, and it would have frustrated me that it didn't look like what I envisioned, which I didn't even entirely know what that vision was until yesterday. It somehow became unlocked from the deep crevices of my brain.

This is it.

What a blessing it has been to paint again.

Juice in Time

It's been weeks since I've picked up a paintbrush. Thankfully, I'm back in the studio again, working on a painting that has been sitting unfinished on the easel since LAST AUGUST.


Apparently, instead of writer's block, I was experiencing some sort of artist's block. Do other artists experience this? Whatever happened, it's good to be on the other side of it, feeling excited about working in the studio instead of dreading it. Not that I was dreading it per se, it's just that life was abundant with other activities and responsibilities.....such that it was too full (?) to think of anything else creative. Is that possible? Well, whether it is or not, it sure seemed to have happened that way.

The Amazing Reese took care of one of my big responsibilities, and it freed up brain space and time, both valuable commodities if one wants to be creative. So, thankfully, yesterday was spent in the studio. Today will be, too -- yay! The creative juices are flowing again! Hallelujah!

Lemon Aid

When life gives you lemons, make limoncello!

Because we (the Amazing Reese and I) have wonderful friends with a freakishly prolific lemon tree, it's time to make limoncello again. The first time making limoncello, it was rather strong, so this year, I'm tweaking the recipe.

This is stage one, peeling the lemons. In this part of the process, it's important to use only the zest from the peel, because the fleshy white part of the skin under the zest is bitter. It's the oils from the lemon zest that give limoncello its lovely yellow color and lemony flavor.



After zesting the lemons, we (enthusiastic helpers and I) soaked the lemon peels in grain alcohol (Everclear) for eight days. Last time, the 190 proof was a bit strong so I wanted to use 151 proof this go around. All the liquor store had was 190 proof, so the Amazing Reese calculated how much water to add to the Everclear to turn the 190 proof into 150-ish proof. One might say that he came to my lemon aid! (ha)

The eight days of soaking the lemon peels has passed, but I'm waiting until the very enthusiastic helpers return from an epic road trip before finishing the project.

Holi-Daze

1. It's two O'clock, and I'm just now getting dressed for the day, not because I'm lazy....because I'm busy.
2. While our daughters are vacating, I'm taking care of their pets, two parakeets and a dog.
3. Walking two dogs at once is harder than it looks.
4. If one dog barks, they both do.
5. Doggie time out is a good thing.....for me.
6. The Christmas tree is long gone, but the ornaments are still sitting in a pile on the coffee table.
7. How many dishes can be made with all of this leftover turkey? Between turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey pot pie, and turkey tetrazzini, I'm running out of ideas.
8. Perhaps the actual question should be, why do I always buy such a big turkey?
9. Who decided to put air bubbles in chocolate? All that means is there's less room for actual chocolate.
10. There has to be something else. Why can't I think of it?
11. (This one goes to eleven.) I'm blaming lack of concentration on excessive amounts of turkey, barking dogs, and air bubbles in chocolate.

Twas Pidgin Style

Was da night bafo' Christmas, and all ova' da place
Not even da geckos was showin' their face.

Da stockings was hangin' on top da TV?
... ... ('Cause no mo' fireplace in Hawai'i)

Da kids stay all crashed, my old man too.
They leave all da work for you-know-who.

So me, I stay pickin' up alla their toys,
When - boom! - outside get only big noise!

I run to da window, I open 'em up,
I stick out my head and I yell, "Eh! Wassup?!"

An den, I no can ba-lieve what I seen!
Was so unreal, you know what I mean?

This fat haole guy get his reindeers in my yard!
An reindeers not housebroken, you know, as' why hard!

But nemmind, dis Christmas, so I cut 'em some slack.
Plus, had uku pile-ah presents pokin' outta his sack!

So I wait 'till he pau tie up his reindeer,
Then I yell out da window, "Huui! Brah, ova hea!"

An' I tell 'em first thing, when I open da door,
"Eh, Hemo your shoes! You going dirty my floor!"

He take off his boots, he tell, "You know who I am?"
I go, "Ho! From the smell, must be Mr. Toe Jam!"

He make mempachi eyes and he go, "Ho, ho, ho!"
By now, I stay tinking dis guy kinda slow!

He look like my Tutu, but little less weight,
And his beard stay so white, mo' white dan shark bait!

He stay all in red, specially his nose,
An get reindeer spit on top his nice clothes!

But him, he no care; he just smile at me,
And he start fo' put presents unda-neath da tree.

I tell 'em, "Eh, brah, no need make li'dat,
And watch where you step! You going ma-ke da cat!"

Den, out from his bag, he pull one bran new computah,
Choke video games, and one motorized scootah!

He try for fill up da Christmas socks too,
But had so much pukas, all da stuff went fall troo.

When he pau, I tell 'em, "Eh Santa, try wait!
I get plenty lef ‘ovahs, I go make you one plate!"

But he nevah like hang, he had so much fo' do;
Gotta make all Dem small kids' wishes come true.

So I wave 'em goodbye, an I flash 'em da shaka,
And I tell 'em, "Mele Kalikimaka!"

When he hear Dat, he stop an I telling you true,
He go, "Garans ball-barans! Merry Christmas to you!

Tex Mex Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,
Not a creature was stirring and I wondered que pasa?

I was hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado
In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado,

To bring all the children, both buenos y malos
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

My brothers and I went to sleep in our camas
Some in long underwear, some in pijamas.

When out in the yard there arose such a grito
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito!

I ran to the window and looked afuera,
And who in the world do you think quien era?

Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero,

And pulling his sleigh, instead of venados,
Were eight little burros, approaching volados.

I watched as they came, and this fat little hombre
Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre,

"Ay, Pancho! Ay, Pepe! Ay Cuca! Ay Neto!
Ay, Chato! Ay, Tono, Maruca, y Beto!"

Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho,
He flew to the top of our very own techo.

With his round little belly like a bowl full of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea.

Then huffing and puffing, and a little cansado,
He picked up a bag that looked so pesado,

He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos
For none of the niños had been very malos.

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,
He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.

I heard him exclaim -- and this is verdad
"Merry Christmas a todos...Feliz Navidad!"

Clan-tastic!

We, along with our thoughtful, kind, sweet, intelligent, and lovely daughters wish everyone a Happy Christmas from the Reese Hazel Clan!


Left to right, Anna - 24, Joy - 20, Hilary - 22, Erin - 26.

Reconstructing Reconstruction

Many thanks to everyone who took time out of their busy holiday schedules to attend the "Reconstruction" exhibit opening reception at the Art Car Museum this past Saturday night. Every event I've ever been to at the Art Car Museum has been fun, and this one was no exception.

For events, because I want to look presentable, before leaving home, it often takes more than a few tries to figure out what to wear. This go around, by the time I had settled on something to wear, it was way past time to leave the house. Wouldn't you know it that the sweater I chose to wear was full of moth holes? Grabbing a needle and thread before we left, I undressed in the car and proceeded to sew up all of the moth holes in the sweater, in the dark, all eight of them. (I didn't notice the two holes near the collar until I was standing in the Art Car Museum gallery.) I finished as we were sitting waiting for a train, just this side of the railroad tracks from the museum, at which point I hopped out of the car, redressed, made some adjustments, jumped back in, snapped the seatbelt, just as the train passed and the protective barriers lifted.


Normally I don't worry about being a few minutes late, especially to a come-and-go event like an art opening, but several of our friends are thoroughly prompt, and because we had cast a wide net in inviting a lot of friends, it was slightly worrisome to be 15 minutes late. I certainly didn't want to miss anyone who came on my behalf! We hurried through the exhibit to find my piece, Still Life with Ukulele #1, reasoning that anyone who might have been there to see me would have been hanging around my painting. (?) If anyone came and went in that first 15 minutes, please accept my apology for not being there, yet.


As I've said many times, for being the fourth largest city in the nation, Houston really is a small town. The Amazing Reese ran into one of his dearest friends, who we haven't seen in forever, who was there on behalf of his girlfriend, who just so happened to have been an artist model in another artist's painting. Go figure. (That was a slightly corny, somewhat amusing artist joke. She was the model in a figurative painting....go figure. Get it?)


Good conversation with friends, new and old, only added to an already stimulating time.

Also, if you happened to come toward the end of the three hour event, we were exhausted and left 30 minutes before closing time. Again, my apologies.

Reconstruction

Just in case you don't have enough to do this Christmas season, my piece, Still Life With Ukulele #1, will be in the "Reconstruction" exhibit at the Art Car Museum, with the opening reception December 17th, from 7-10pm. The Amazing Reese and I will be there. We'd love to see y'all.

Still Life With Ukulele #1 is made using metal office desk drawers, marble tiles, chain, magnets, and oils.

125 pieces of art will be in this exhibit, plus some art cars from the permanent collection. It's a fun event. The artwork on exhibit will be very diverse.

Exhibition will be on view until March 2, 2012.

This is an equal opportunity event. Everyone is invited. Bring friends.

Oh, the Christmas Tree!

Parts of me never grew up. Don't get me wrong. I AM a grown up and have grown up responsibilities and do grown up things, like eat a Snickers bar for breakfast just because I can (I AM a grown up), but for as long as I can remember, and this is going back to early childhood days when we lived in Centreville, Mississippi, I've "played with" our Christmas trees. The magic likely started when we would, as a family, traipse through someones pasture into the woods (with permission) and hunt for the perfect tree. We would then kill it, drag it back through the woods, tie it to the roof of the car, and like good taxidermy, mount it in the living room.

We lived in the parsonage in Centreville, my dad was the Presbyterian preacher, and the home provided to us by the church was vintage. Older homes in the South had enormously high ceilings to collect the hot air in the summertime, so that ladies could sip their "ice tea" and not have the ice melt before the tall glass reached their lips. It also meant that when going in the attic to retrieve the Christmas decorations, one would have to use a tall ladder just to REACH the attic stairs ladder. It was scarily thrilling to climb into the attic.

Plus, in that house, we kept the living room and dining room closed off to presumably save on heating and cooling bills, so putting the tree in the chilly living room only added to the wondrous mystery of Christmas for me. The tree drew me to it like a magnet. Ornaments, colorful lights, tinsel, and presents, oh, the presents, it was so exciting. I would re-arrange the lights, ornaments, pretty presents, and play with the tinsel, (nobody sells tinsel anymore) over and over and over.

The excitement of finding just the right tree and all the fun of decorating it has continued (for me) to this day. The Amazing Reese and our daughters have been amused, if not slightly annoyed, when, as a grown woman, I continue to play with the Christmas tree. The family joke is not if I'll do it, but when. But this year, THIS year, I have vowed to not rearrange one thing on the tree. My only delight will be to plug in the lights first thing in the morning, and say good night to the tree at bedtime when we unplug the lights. (Goodnight tree!) That's all. Nobody believes me. Hence this photo. Anna took a picture of the tree lights right after they were put on so that they can compare it to a photo of the tree at the end of the season....just to make sure I have not rearranged anything.


It's really not fair, because this is our first Christmas with Tilly, who doesn't seem to understand the word "no", and who thinks that the tree is her personal playground (a girl after my own heart) and who keeps collecting ornaments off the tree (look! new toys!) and subsequently eating them. (Aw, that poor angel is decapitated.)


Ah, but she seems to be enjoying the Christmas tree magic. I completely understand. Good girl, Tilly.

The Finish, Not to be Confused with the Finnish

It's a start, and maybe even a finish. It's at least finished for now. Instead of using linseed oil, I used The Natchez Solution, a furniture refinishing product bought years ago in Mississippi. It worked like a charm! The dresser soaked up the oil and is showing off her splendorous beauty.


While I was working on the dresser, not wanting to be left out, Faithful Tilly came in for a visit, which included her repeatedly licking a dresser drawer, which initially I didn't notice, but when I did it kind of freaked me out. Thinking my next four hours were going to be spent in the doggie emergency room getting Tilly's stomach pumped I hollered, "What are you doing, ya' goofy nut?" Tilly looked at me and said, "What?" Not really, of course. She's a dog. But her expression was conveying something very much like "I'm a dog. This is what dogs do. Why are you surprised?" Then it occurred to me that The Natchez Solution is an all natural product. I read the back of the label and sure enough, it's made of beeswax, mineral oil, and lemon oil, which is not toxic at all.....so I tasted it, too. (I didn't lick a drawer like Tilly did if that's what you're thinking. Give me a little credit.) Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wormwood Pine

Some women buy jewelry. Some women buy shoes. Some women buy new clothes in every season. Me? I spend my birthday money (thanks, mom and dad) on a dusty old dresser from a neighbor's dusty old garage. This beauty is my newest project. Don't know what I'll do with it, yet. After cleaning the layer of dirt off, the old wormwood pine definitely needs to be given a dose of linseed oil. I'll probably only use some Butcher's Bowling Alley Wax on it after that.

It's old enough to have been made out of square tipped nails. Cool.


And these knobs are like none I've seen -- the inside is a wooden screw peg that attaches to the outside knob. Sweet.


It's got some nice dovetailing details on the drawers, too.



Now, this old dresser will never be featured on the Antiques Road Show. The previous owners attempts at repair are crude at best. That top right drawer front is a lost cause. But it has character, age, and possibilities of wonderfulness. Plus, I really like it.

Thanksgiving Break

It was a break all right. All of the food for our Thanksgiving feast was prepared by our daughters and guests. I didn't do a thing except open the front door.


At the last minute I started whipping the cream for the pumpkin pie right before someone took a candid photo of everyone in the kitchen. Erin quickly took over whipping duties so that it didn't look like I contributed to the meal. Go Erin! Isn't that how it always is, though? Everyone ends up all crowded in the kitchen together? I love it.


Mimi and Papa came to town for a few days. We only remembered to take a group picture after Reese had gone back to work on Friday and before the girls went off to Agora to study. Our daughters have been patrons of Agora for years and now Anna also works there. It's a groovy gathering place that serves coffee, tea, wine, beer, Greek pastries, free wi-fi, and friendly fellowship.

Mimi and Papa are seen here posing with their granddaughters and grandpoodles.


We borrowed Hilary's laptop to Skype with my little brother, Stephen, in Hawaii. That was fun. He's out there working behind the scenes on the new Hawaii Five-0 TV show.


All of the university students had papers to write and studying to do. It was a quiet end to a wonderful break. I am full of thanksgiving.


Thank you all!

Via Colori #6

The most interesting thing about the Via Colori experience this year was how much extra attention the art got because Saint Arnold was the sponsor of my square.


Plus, there was a tent that had Christmas Ale on tap. Draw your own conclusions.

Hair Don't

It's not very often that I actually pay to have my hair cut. (I usually cut it myself.) But with Via Colori this weekend, my 48th birthday on Sunday, and family in town for Thanksgiving next week, I though it high time to treat myself to a professional cut. I made an appointment for today at noon.

At noon on the dot, I knocked on the door, which might seem unusual except for the fact that I get my hair cut at the hairdresser's house. She's quite wonderful, creative, full of exuberance, and very much a free spirit. From inside the house, I hear a stream of expletives as she stumbled her way to the door. Another expletive as she opened the door, and a quick apology. She had forgotten our appointment. On top of that, she had had a very bad day, and looked it. It was only noon.

She suggested that her highly charged emotional state might not be in my best interest as far as a hair cut was concerned. Would I mind coming back tomorrow? Same time? I halfway thought that it would be fine if she cut my hair anyway. After all, I had scheduled my day accordingly. Then I asked what had happened that morning that was so distressing. She told me. It's seriously messed up and complicated. Her idea of rescheduling seemed both good and bad. Do I really want to go back tomorrow? Will she be able to pull herself together? When she's at the top of her game, she's awesome. But there are several extenuating circumstances in her life right now that might not make getting a hair cut from her at this moment such a good idea....

Thinking back on the handful of times she's cut my hair and it looked great, I'm actually considering it. Bless her heart. Mine, too.

Preparation

Next weekend is Via Colori, the street painting festival for the Center for Hearing and Speech. Yesterday, I picked up the artist packet and found out that the sponsor for my square is Saint Arnold, which is a huge thrill, as I'm a big fan of the Saint.


The Amazing Reese is helping me by overlaying a grid on the image of the painting I'll use this year. Not on the actual painting, on a photo of the painting, which we will then get laminated at Kinko's, which I just found out is not Kinko's, it's now Fed Ex. How do I miss these things?

The last few years of Via Colori, I've worn the same pair of stretchy jeans, which in anticipation of this event, I tried on the other day. They no longer fit. This is an eternal dilemma -- do I go buy the next size up? For this event, with all of the bending involved, it's imperative to be in comfortable, movable clothes. I had debated going to Goodwill to buy some old scrubs -- those would be comfortable -- but who are we kidding, they are NOT attractive. And by golly, since I'll be on display all day, I want to look good. Ah, what to do what to do?

The last things to gather for next weekend are a chalk line, tape measure, masking tape, non latex gloves, baby wipes, a hat, sunscreen, a small whisk broom, and a back brace.

I'm still debating whether or not to paint a practice square in the driveway....

Limbo

For some unknown reason, I'm in creativity limbo.

It's a poor excuse, but instead of going to a hardware store to buy plywood for the new mosaic project, I've been looking at construction sites around the neighborhood hoping to find leftover scraps. Well, that's not entirely true. I've gone to two hardware stores looking for various supplies so that this project can get rolling, yet have bought nothing.

And honestly, my brain can't think of another thing to say.