Brass Bird on a Pot

Brass Bird on a Pot

6x6, soft pastel

This little guy travelled with me to the local greenhouse for a bit of “Plein air” painting during January.  I placed him on an upside down flower pot in between a few other pots of bright pink flowers where he rested quietly until I was finished. Plein air isn’t necessarily my bag...but it was great fun and good practice painting outside the studio. 

PSA and The Butler Institute of American Art

I don’t normally use this blog for “narratives” unless it’s about a specific painting I’m working on or just completed. But, this morning I’m introspective and grateful so here goes.

All Things In Moderation:

There have been times where I’ve expressed my love for my family in this blog because they are so extremely important to me and honestly, I can’t come close to expressing those feelings adequately. Some people would think I’m just too emotional...but love runs deep for me, and intensely. Their happiness and wellbeing are paramount. So, having this passion for creating art seems a bit selfish. Ok, a whole lot of selfish! And I think to myself...should I be doing this?

Spending so many hours in my own little world over the past six years, I can’t help but wonder...am I maintaining a balanced life? Most day’s I think I am...but it’s becoming increasingly hard to do so. Reading, watching videos, listening to podcasts (all art related) and above all...drawing and painting consumes me. I find that particularly odd since I’ve never had any interest or hobby during the course of my life take such a center stage. My family are extremely supportive of course but I worry about not spending enough time with each of them. My usual motto of “all things in moderation” flew right out the window when I started this journey with pastels.

Perseverance:

So, what does this have to do with my title?  It’s back to the feeling of gratitude for everything and everyone I love...and an overwhelming sense of humility. And, I guess it’s also to acknowledge my second most important motto to “persevere”.

If I could give my children and grandchildren only one gift...it would be the ability to persevere. Most days, life clicks along at a satisfactory pace but life can also be very tough and there will be (not “may be”, but “will be”) some very difficult moments, days, weeks, months and maybe years. Times so difficult and feelings so agonizing you may feel that you can’t make it...but you can, we all can if we just persevere, have an open heart and stay the course. So, I guess what I leave behind for my family is modeling that philosophy of perseverance. That’s what I’ve been doing in my life and with my art. 

At first, the art critic inside my head was vicious. It’s a wonder I didn’t listen to it and quit before I’d really begun. It took a quote in one of Vincent Van Gogh’s letters to his brother to resonate with me. He said “if you hear a voice in your head that says you can’t paint, then by all means keep painting and the voice will be silenced”. He wasn’t a very good drawer or painter at first...but he persevered against overwhelming odds. More overwhelming than most of us have to deal with. I’m thankful he expressed those sentiments.

PSA and The Butler:

Without perseverance, it would be near impossible to achieve individual goals. I set a few art goals along the way and am slowly making headway. Recently, The Pastel Society of America (PSA) awarded me signature status (which was a goal I had set for myself a few years ago). It wasn’t until 2019 that I felt I was making the progress I needed to make in order to achieve that goal.  I am very pleased to have been juried into PSA as a signature member.

At the same time, The Butler Institute of American Art’s pastel exhibition is now underway and I am taken aback at seeing my artwork in the publications for this prestigious show. While I won’t be able to make it to Ohio to see the exhibition, I’m thrilled to share my painting with others that do attend. Below is a link to PSA’s website announcing the show.

http://www.pastelsocietyofamerica.org/psa-at-the-butler-2/

So, at this point in my life, it’s on to the next goal!  And, hopefully maintaining some semblance of balance in my life and the strength mentally and physically to persevere.

31 Day Challenge Collage

It’s great to wake up Feb. 1st and have the day wide open again. But, I will say I’ll miss this particular challenge and the fun I had with shot glasses. Thank you to #stradaeasel for coordinating all the artists and their efforts and thanks so much to those who followed along with me!  Until next time! 

Last but not least...Dad’s Parting Shot

Dad’s Parting Shot

8x10, soft pastel

There are many things that remind me of my dad so I’ve pulled out a few items from my memory box to arrange into a small still life. This is a quick study piece. I don’t know if I’ll paint it larger, in more detail, or add more pieces. But, I thought it was fitting for the final day of my shot glass series. The background...

The Barber:
Dad was a quiet man...and multifaceted...he was a bit of an enigma. He was a longtime barber in the small Iowa town we lived in along the Mississippi River and proudly owned his own shop. So, I included a shaving brush. He cared for his shop (and our home) meticulously. He could repair and/or build absolutely anything.

The Gambler:
For as many years as I can remember he was also a gambling man, drinking and playing poker quite often into the wee hours of the morning. Playing cards, dice, and a shot glass are included because they all went hand in hand. Of course high stakes poker wasn’t legal in Iowa so card games were “secretly” held in various locations. One night while playing cards (which I’m told, often included lawyers, police and a judge or two) the small “poker club” was robbed. Several younger men gained access to the room and stormed in. At gunpoint, the players were tied up and robbed. Fortunately no one was injured...except maybe their pride. You would think that would deter them...but not for long. In any event, his cards, dice and a shot glass represent those tumultuous times (“dicey shot”...or maybe we should call it “lucky shot”)

The Golfer:
Dad was also an avid golfer. He owned his own golf cart and in retirement played every day. He loved going to the golf club to play. He had at least two...maybe three hole-in-ones so I included one of his golf balls. I believe this one was his first hole-in-one (“long shot”).

The Singer:
Dad was also musically inclined. He whistled often and for a time sang in the choir at church. He sang like Perry Como, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra rolled into one (ah yes, the “mad men” era). He owned several harmonicas (which my mom always called French harps). I have one of his smaller versions which I cherish.

The Hunter:
I didn’t include something representing hunting...maybe I will if I paint this again.

In his youth he was an avid hunter. Because he wasn’t very talkative (and very busy with work and “other interests”) it wasn’t easy to get to know him. As a sensitive child in a busy family of six kids, I wanted to be closer to him. So, one evening I asked if I could go deer hunting with him the following morning. To my surprise he said yes.

We woke up WAY before dawn and headed out, when we arrived at my uncle’s farm he handed me a shotgun (of all things). At ten years old, it seemed as though I was only a bit taller than that gun. I’d never shot that particular gun before...heck, I don’t think I’d shot ANY gun before except maybe a BB gun. I didn’t even WANT a gun, I thought I’d just walk along beside him.

He gave me a couple safety tips and that was all the instruction I got. Then he told me to walk through the corn field. I looked at him, at the gun, and the corn field...then back at him. Too afraid to let him down, I did what I was told. He told me not to shoot (especially in his direction) and only shoot if I had a “clear shot”.  What did THAT mean?  He took out in another direction around the cornfield. Oh man, this was not the father/daughter experience I had imagined!

Walking through that corn field, my heart was pounding in my ears and throat. Fear was so intense I could hardly see where I was going. As I made my way through the drying corn field (which towered at least two feet above my head) I could hear a lot of crackling, crunching noises. It was disorienting. Was that my dad? Or a deer, or several deer...? Or a corn field monster (ha!). I was prepared to shoot but fortunately didn’t (despite the overwhelming thought of being trampled by deer or worse). To my relief I finally found my dad at the end of the cornfield and later learned that he’d sent me in there to flush out the deer (if there were any). Needless to say, that was the last time I asked to go hunting. I restricted my future requests to fishing and golfing instead.

The Fisherman:
The only time dad sat still was after dinner watching the news or Bonanza or Gunsmoke. When it came to hobbies, each one became a passion for him.

Dad’s love of fishing was epic. He fished as a young boy along with his dad and brothers. He was an avid bass fisherman and was proud of his boat. He was a great cook too and often fished on the Mississippi River for catfish especially if there was going to be a big fish-fry at the golf course.

The bobber reminds me of that passion and the final day of his life. He and a golfing buddy capsized under the dam’s spillways while fishing one August morning. A lot can be said about that day but if you know the Mississippi, you know their chances of survival was almost zero. They both died doing something they enjoyed...I guess that’s not a bad way to go.

The Catholic:
And finally, the good Catholic man. Dad was not without vice...but I will say he was devote in his beliefs. I never knew him to raise his voice or harm anyone, ever. He was a “live and let live” kind of guy. He had a soft heart and was loved by many. I have his rosary which I can honestly say I don’t recall him ever using. But, no matter how late his night before was, he was always dressed in his Sunday best for church each Sunday morning. His faith, like the rosary above intertwined throughout his life, connecting all the many things that interested him.

Miss you Dad ❤️

I had a blast doing these crazy shot glass paintings during the 31 day challenge...I hope you enjoyed them too!

Shot of Stella

Shot of Stella

6x6, soft pastel

As I’ve said once before, I love Stella...whoever she is. I love the gorgeous green bottle as much as the contents. The green against the yellow (along with the red and white label) is pretty striking. In any event...the month is coming to a close and I have more shot glass ideas than days left to paint them. Maybe next year I’ll do it again!

Tot Shot

Tot Shot

6x6, soft pastel

Who doesn’t love a good hot crispy tater tot right? We have a special place we like to go for burgers and they have the very best tots around. We were out for lunch the other day and the spirit of the 31 day challenge, I sacrificed these three tots from my lunch to use in a still life setup.

Of course Benny was very interested in the savory smell my studio took on while I painted and sat patiently next to the still life table hoping to get a handout once I was finished. I must have distracted him along the way because it wasn’t until three days later that he picked up the scent again and sat patiently next to the table. Although they were cold and dried out by then, I simply had to give them to him anyway. A dog’s reward for superior patience.

Shot of Fall

Shot of Fall

6x6, soft pastel

 Well...I figured I'd round out the "seasons" shot glass theme with fall. The only thing I had for fall were a few dried leaves I collected while walking Benny last October.  In any event...here it is.