"You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying overhead, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair." ~ Chinese Proverb

Beverly and Her Grandson, Brad

 

This is a portrait of two people who are dear to my heart. I've been wanting to paint them for quite a while.  

Oil on canvas. 16 x 20 inches. 2015.

Spring has Sprung

This chair was rescued recently from a back room of the local St. Vincent de Paul thrift store.  It was being used by folks trying on used shoes and was in pretty rough condition although it was still sturdy.  I brought it home, cleaned it up and went to work giving it a major face lift.

I was inspired by the beautiful spring weather we have been having recently which brought to mind a cute little poem I learned as a child.

"Spring has sprung,

The grass is riz,

I wonder where the birdie is,

The birdie's place is on the wing,

Now isn't that a funny thing,

I always thought the wing was

On the birdie."

The poem was thought to be written by Ogden Nash, but now they think the author is unknown.  Anonymous.

The chair in it's original condition.

I donated the chair to the Safety Harbor Library Chairity event to help them raise money for the library. I am pleased and honored to be included in this opportunity to serve my community in this small way.

 

Swan chair

I accepted an invitation to paint a chair for our local library chairity auction to help fund some needed library projects. They issued a call to artists to paint a chair using whatever media they wanted in whatever style they chose.  Chairs were available at the library or we could pick up a chair at a yard sale or used furniture place.  I found this chair at St. Vincent de Paul's for $10.  It was sturdy and in good shape, not requiring any repairs. . .something I didn't want to have to deal with.

I sanded all the old varnish off the chair, wiped it down and put a couple primer coats on it.  While I was doing that I let the chair "speak" to me about what type of design and style might look nice on it.

It seemed a nature theme in a bit of an art nouveau style might work.  I wanted the legs to represent deep water using dark blues, the seat of the chair to be covered with lily pads (lighter shades of blue and greens), the spokes supporting the arms and back of the chair to represent plants growing up out of the water and finally the back with something that lives above the surface of the water.

 I really loved the heart shape cut out in the back of the chair and worked up a design using two swans flanked by some cat tails and saw grass. 

This is the first time I have ever painted a chair with some sort of design. I used to do a little refinishing of antiques for my mother who owned an antique shop with a friend of hers, but we mostly just stripped the wood of all the old varnish and layers of paint.  I really enjoyed the project and found it interesting to paint on a variety of curved surfaces. 

Man in Red Cap

"Homeless, 
homeless, 
moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake...
strong wind, 
strong wind destroy our home, 
Many dead, 
tonight it could be you...
and we are homeless, 
we are homeless, 
sleeping on a midnight lake...
somebody sing hello, hello, hello...
somebody cry why, why, why?

~adaptation of lyrics by Joseph Sabalala and Paul Simon

I'm thinking about the homeless as I pack up some blankets today to take to a friend who will give them out tomorrow at the local soup kitchen just as I was when I did this painting of a homeless man lucky enough to have a red cap.  

I know of no place in the world that does not have homeless people.  What would it be like to be homeless, living on the streets?  Actually I was close to it for a while - I lived in a van for a while and it wasn't because I was traveling or on some exotic adventure.  I've lived high and I've lived pretty low and lived some in between too.  Living under those extremes gave me a different viewpoint than the average Joe.  Being homeless isn't just what it was like to be homeless, although that in itself is a real eye-opener as to what you have to do each day just to survive.  Another part of it is all the stuff that happened before you lived there - how you ended up without someplace safe to live. I thank God every day for the people that were kind to me, for the ones that found me and gently, respectfully, helped me find my way out of that abyss.

Oils on stretched canvas. 11 x 14 inches. 2008.

Just some sketches I did of birds that I saw in a natural history museum.

Pencil on Drawing Paper. 5 x 7 inches. 1969.

Drawing on Paper. 5 x7 inches. 1969.

Pencil on Drawing Paper. 5 x 7 inches. 1969.

Pencil on Drawing Paper 5 x 7 inches. 1969.

Pencil on Drawing Paper. 8 x 10 inches. 1969.

Dog in Park

I met this sweet old dog the other day at the park.  She, like most older dogs, was greying and pretty docile. I love old dogs.  They've seen it all.  They've worked out the kinks.  They just are what they are, without artifice or guile. We are blessed with a couple of older dogs.  I am learning a lot from them about how to become a better person ~ a more gentle, loving and compassionate person.  Our old dogs are always happy to see us, always full of gratitude and love.  I want to be an old dog.
Oil on canvas. 8 x 10 inches. 2015.