Friday, December 18, 2009
Yes, I'm still here. That sure was a long "wait,wait" between postings! Thank you for your patience.
The reference for this painting was discovered on a snowy ride to the beach. My sister-in-law and I were headed to do some photography for a possible commission when we passed this old vehicle. It definitely called to us to stop and take some pictures.
Why was it there beside the road? In all sorts of weather? Surely that light would never be sufficient for driving. The image stayed with me and I hurried home to get it on canvas. Then I realized it was a "God" thing. Who is always there - beside the road and wherever I am? In all sorts of weather? It's God. How could I have failed to realize that it's God's light that is guiding this vehicle and us.
May God guide your steps through a wonderful Christmas and into a meaningful and joyous New Year.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
I decided that each effort could stand on its own merit - the painting and the remarks. So the background became a loose collection of vibrant marks - which I discovered looked a little like tire tracks. And here are the results.
My freckled little brother sat between our mother and father. His car seat was held securely in place by two metal arms that curved over the back of the front seat. My brother was blonde just like our Dad, but Dad's hands were dark with grease and oil from his job as a mechanic. He worked long hours yet always had time to help others with their ailing vehicles. Dad had lots of car stories. My brother was too young to understand the finer points of standard transmission repair or installation of those new directional signals. But what my brother could always do was spot a Nash. Regardless of the vintage or model, he would point his finger and shout, "At's a Nash" and he was always right.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Remember, don't be afraid to fail. Something good may come out of it - like a posting.
Many years have passed, so now it can be told. Occasionally I wrote school assignments for my kids. It was a tradition from my own years in school when my mother wrote assignments for me. Once in a while, when my activities loomed larger than my homework, my mother would say, "Dear, don't worry, I'll do it". And then she would wait anxiously for "her" grade.
However my daughter was up against an issue of unfairness. She was driven to high school by her "always late" Dad. Obviously she got into trouble for the constant tardiness. Driven to frustration and trying to make a point, her teacher demanded an essay on the situation. Talk about conflict. So naturally, I said, "Don't worry Honey, I'll do it."
So, from many years ago, here is "her" completed assignment.
"The Lowell's are always late. It's a proud tradition of tardiness passed from generation to generation.
My grandmother was not only always late but could usually be counted on to have a flat tire enroute to her destination. She even had a dog that was late in making it outside and left a disaster in the front hall. My father stepped on a nail before his wedding and was late for the service. As a child I thought all moves began in the middle and breakfasts were supposed to be cold.
Now that I am older, I face a great decision. Whether it is nobler in mind to disregard time in order to fulfill my ancestor's destiny or live my life punctually, thus becoming the black sheep of the family.
The tardy bell has just rung so I'll have to make my decision later."
As luck would have it "I" never received a grade. My daughter's teacher merely said that the paper "cracked him up". Surely that merits a B+ at the very least?
Sunday, April 12, 2009
So in my own career "goofy restaurants" have fallen into my lap. I thought I should be doing grand canvases. Instead I began a long list of "goofy" stuff that has served me well.
A neighbor inquired if I was willing to paint on cement. Come to find out she had an unsightly well tile and so it was up to me to cover it with faux rocks. The first rocks disappeared in the winter snows and, in that way, I learned to prime first! The next year's crop of rocks lasted just fine. I have since painted signs and even a rolling gun card for this same neighbor.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Color. Rich, glorious, in your face color. I love it. So it was time to spread my wings and shape up the old cottage. I decided to do an accent wall. Just a little bit of space behind the counter - sort of a poor mans back splash! It would be blue. Deep, vibrant blue.
Getting a new can of paint is like a gift. It's an opportunity to change perceptions of any given space. It was time for a statement. Not waiting to prime, I spread the blue with great gusto. Wait a minute. It's not so great... Why isn't this working? I spent the afternoon trying to make myself enjoy the blue. Sure it needed another 17 coats.... Was I already going to throw in the towel? What would my family think? They would hate it. Sooooooo, at 10pm I was painting over my misbegotten blue. What a mistake. I didn't want anyone to see. But my daughter-in-law called and asked what I was up to. After hedging, I admitted the mistaken color which I was covering up. She said "You have to take a picture". Oh no I don't. She insisted and I did. So here we are almost seven years later. I've started "waitwait" the blog and what could be more appropriate than my mistaken blue.
However, the cottage was now mine and I wanted to be a good steward. Taupe came next. It was neutral, classic but, eventually, boring. Then it was green for about a day and a half. Why was this so difficult? They say you shouldn't make any decisions after a death in the family, but this was just "color". I poured through my extensive color card library. It was a rainy day - a very rainy day. NH was flooding. Roads were closed. People were evacuated. BUT I found my color!! It was terrarosa. The phone rang, it was my brother. "What are you up to today?" he asked. I told him I was going to Sherwin Williams. "But the roads are closed", he said. It made no difference. From the first brush stroke it was love! Terrarosa is not red or rose or peach, it's a compilation of all those colors depending how the light hits it.
The remainder of my blue paint went to the local theater group. Hopefully they have a night time drama coming up soon.
Sooooo don't give up. The longer the journey, the sweeter the arrival.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Naturally my granddaughters are the very best, brightest and most talented kids! That being said, we can all use some further instructions in life. That's when my role as grandmother/art teacher began.
DOING stuff has always been interesting for me. Having two eager girls to join my adventures has been gratifying. Not being trained as a teacher, I looked for some guidance. Kumon Workbooks, which are available from the bookstore, offered brightly colored pictures to cut, paste and follow the maze. The material was a great beginning.
It's been fun to see their personalities come out in their work. My six year old spends a great deal of time developing her work. She will do the assignment as well as initiate her own experimentation. My four year old is very passionate. One sticker is never enough, rather she favors a pile format, one on top of another. Her color choice is very dramatic - black is her latest favorite.
Of course we are also creating gifts for the family. Their gifts for Dad were paperweights. I shrunk some of the girls' photos down to stamp size and they used mod podge to glue them onto the rocks. The only glitch was the rocks were quite large. Oh well, it meant more pictures. And should a hurricane hit their Dad's office,he is well prepared.
They have taught me much in this process as well. Once I was taking my four year old through the steps of creating a sea monster. Each one of the coils rose above the surface of the water giving the impression of a mighty beast. When the last coil was ready to put into place, she calmly informed me that she would rather put it on her balloon and did so. It has been a challenge for me to "not help". Even though I wanted the results to be wonderful, I've learned that is not the point.