Posts Tagged ‘Art I love’

I keep telling my family that I am two chapters, partially written, from the end of the first draft of my book. I told them that in February, and in March, and now it is April. Guess what, I think I am still two chapters from the end of the first draft of my book. 


I was fudging it in February. I kept adding things like, “Oh, and chapter 11 needs fleshing out.” But, the real problem is the book just keeps growing. It was sixteen chapters, then seventeen, now it is nearing nineteen.


I do this constant edit thing. Until this past month, every day that I began writing, I would start by going over the previous few chapters. So, you would think that Chapter one is pretty well done. I doubt it, because last month, I went back to my original first chapter. Yesterday, I changed a few things in it. I think I am an editing addict.


I did this when I was painting full time too. When I was near the end of a painting, I would bring it in the house and hang it above the kitchen table. I would often leave dinner, to correct a mistake I had found. Maybe I can call that the painting diet.


This may be why I have always found creating pottery to be soothing. There is no going back. You fire it. It’s written in stone (pun intended). I don’t obsess. I just do it. I do my research, I have my reference material and I do it. I put it out in the world to stand on it’s own and move on to the next piece.


But, pottery seems like more of a temporary thing to me. I know in my hands it is. I know artists whose pottery is so outstanding that I stand before it and appreciate it like a good painting. But, not mine. Not yet anyway. It’s a fun hobby that takes part of the results, out of my control. The kiln decides. I can relax.  


But, in the end, even with ideas from friends and families contributing; in the end, this book is mine. It is the first part of a story told in five books. It is a story that I would not have written, had I not taken in three of my grandchildren. It is an important story. It is a tribute to the bravery of children. It is too important to sit in my drawer.


So, you’ll excuse me, if I tell you, I’m two chapters from the end of the first draft.

Read Full Post »

I did it!! And,  it didn’t even take two years. I changed my banner. These are three of my paintings.

The middle pastel is of a lady I saw in Seattle. I used to travel across the U.S. to place my art in galleries, exhibit at sales and enter art competitions.

While I was in Seattle, many years ago, I went to the mall for lunch. While I was there, a dance for senior citizens started on the main floor. As I watched from the balcony, I became entranced by this lady. I went downstairs to talk to her and she was just as enchanting close up. She loved life and it showed. She allowed me to photograph her and I promised to send her copies of the photos, but somewhere on the trip home, I lost her address.  I’ve always felt bad that I didn’t get her copies because she is just so beautiful.

The work on the left is an oil painting I created many years ago. It’s of a dear friend of mine from northern Indiana, Gerrie Govert. She is a wonderful painter, teacher and friend. Another student of hers took the photo but gave me permission to paint from it. People continually ask if it’s a self-portrait.

The photo on the right is of a woman doing quill work at a Revolutionary war recreation.  Much of my subject matter came from the Native American community and re-enactors. I loved to exhibit at Pow Wows. I had a permanent sign for my both that said, “I paint with respect.”  The Sandos, from the east, were particularly interesting and I have painted grandfather, father, son and daughter.

My second sign read: ‘If you see me photographing and you do not wish me to, please let me know and I will be careful not to include you. If you do not mind my photographing, please give me your name and address and I will send you a copy of any photos of your family.’

My favorite thing was to go to sleep to the sound of the drums. It is a part of the leaves rustling in the trees and the whisper of voices on the wind.

I love living in a tent. I do not normally do much cooking but love cooking over the open fire, with simple main ingrediants. The other benefit of the fire is sitting around the campfire at night.  We had a friend who played guitar and knew every Jim Croce song.  

Read Full Post »