. . . tried painting again?

Watching little Betsy paint on Sunday really opened my eyes. Inspired by her application of thick paint, I began doing the same randomly on a canvas, using a pallette knife. I'm making things up as I go along. I'm trying to create something different than my usual. . . I don't know if it will be any good at all, or even if it will turn out any different, but I'm trying to paint like Betsy. These are pictures of portions of the work in progress, the more frantic portions. I recently read somewhere that you can have too much texture in a canvas.





I believe I have mentioned before that I get message from the Daily Ohm. Sometimes it's scary to get these messages, because they are exactly what I need to hear at that particular time. Here's what I got last week (with apologies to anyone who also got it and has already read it):

The quiet lull into we which we fall between ideas, projects, and goals can make
life seem empty. After accomplishing one objective, you may want to move
immediately on to the next. However, when your next step is unclear, you may
feel frustrated, disconnected, or even a mild depression. You may even perceive
your lack of forward momentum as an indicator of imminent stagnation. To calm
these distressing thoughts, try to accept that if your intent is personal
growth, you will continue to grow as an individual whether striving for a
specific objective or not. Spending time immersed in life’s rigors and pleasures
can be a cathartic experience that gives you the time you need to think about
what you have recently gone through and leisurely contemplate what you wish to
do next. You may also find that in simply being and going through the motions of
everyday life, you reconnect with your priorities in a very organic, unforced
way.

I have been "leisurely contemplat(ing) what (I) wish to do next." Now I needn't feel like a lazy bum about it. It really is a growth spurt.

. . . discovered emerging artist?

On Sunday, I picked Betsy up at her house and we took off for the Brookside Art Annual, leaving Joey screaming in his mother's arms because he wanted to go, too. Not to the art show, just anywhere . . . We get to the show and at the second booth we meet up with the obligatory grouchy artist guy who growls at Betsy not to touch anything, even though she was still a few feet away. At all the following tents, if I even come close to a painting or piece of art, Betsy's telling me "Don't touch, Nana." After the show, we took off for the bookstore. . .






At Barnes and Noble, Betsy finds two scrapbook-type books, one for Hannah Montanna and the other for High School Musical. She asks if she can have those books. She also tells me that we will leave the books at Nana's house, and asks me not to tell her mother that she has these books, because her mother thinks they are too old for Betsy. Okay, why not, what are grandmothers for anyway? The we hit Wendy's for our usual lunch out with Nana. Then home. Inspire perhaps by the art fair, Betsy asks to paint. We set up a small table and chair in the driveway, get out tons of paper, some craft paints, numerous brushes, a smock (my old T-shirt) and a glass of water. Betsy, like her grandmother, has a penchant for the color red, in any of its permutations. I watched her smear the paint on thickly, indiscriminantly, with abandon, no thought of whether it's good or not. Just to see the colors. Here are some of her works. Betsy was proud to learn about monoprinting. . . the top painting is a monoprint of the second painting. The third is my favorite of all . . . it looks like a flower to me. Betsy's mom like this one best, too.

Joey brought his parents to the house for supper, along with Uncle Matt, and we ate hamburgers, rode bikes, played in the yard, and they took a long shower and made shaving cream tea and crumpets in the shower. I was happy that during supper Betsy whispered to her mother that she had picked out the Hannah Montanna and High School Musical books. The books were indeed left at Nana's but Mommy didn't get mad. Such a full day, and I learned something about art, too.

. . . abstracted the garden?

Okay, this first picture is not really abstract, but I thought it was pretty cool. In the middle of the sunken brick patio out in the yard, there is an urn on a pedestal. Every year I try out different unusual combinations of plants. This year, the area is becoming more shady as the little trees around the patio have grown, and my urn contains a large autumn fern, a beautiful begonia, and a couple of coleus, among other plants. I guess it could be abstract. . . it's all about texture variations, color, and shape.





This is a hosta leaf, up close and personal.





and this is one of my favorite pictures. It's a rock on the garden path. Something sat on this rock for the entire winter, and apparently the shrubs around the rock sent out roots that wander over the surface of the rock.


No peony pictures today, although there's a dynamite purple one in full bloom right now. To combat the deer that have come back, eating the tips of the rose bushes, I sprayed Liquid Fence yesterday. The sprayer jammed, and I got the stuff all over my hands. I still smell it, despite repeated hand washings. It must work, because not one deer has approached me.

. . . completed yard work

Yes, I'm done, except for the regular mowing. . . everything is clean out, raked, put away, thrown away, given away, fixed up, painted and set up. My reward is getting to see the new peonies blooming. The pretty one above is the only bud on that particular tree peony so of course I had to take a picture of it. Two years ago there was a killing frost that nipped some of the tree peonies and they didn't bloom that year at all. Last year they were still recovering and didn't bloom very much. I hope they are getting healthier every year.






This little tree peony was planted just last year and this year it has many blooms and buds. Don't you love the yellow color? We have had rain almost every day this week, almost five inches since Sunday, so the garden is growing fast, as is the grass. Everything looks lush. The roses, regular peonies, and irises should bloom soon, too.


Of the eight houses on my cul de sac, four are or will be for sale this summer. One family is moving to a multi-million dollar home they are building just a few blocks away. Another family is moving to Colorado, and a couple who live in a third house are moving to Savannah. And there's me. And that doesn't include the foreclosure that sold a couple of months ago, bringing down everyone's house values because it counts as a comparable sale. I have the biggest and best back yard, but not everyone wants a big back yard or a beautiful garden. The exteriors are pretty much similar but the interiors are all over the place. . . from very formal to contemporary to traditional to hodge-podge. Guess which one is mine. Tomorrow is the Brookside Art Fair, and I'm hoping Betsy will go with me again this year. And it's First Friday in the Crossroad District and the Power & Light District tonight. And the Art-Bidz aution is tomorrow night. And the urban homes tour is Saturday and Sunday. Lots of stuff going on this weekend.

. . . pictured the garden

Since many artists are also gardeners, I thought I would show you some early bloomers and other things in my garden that are interesting to me. The tree peony above is special because it blooms first, and I'm crazy about the color when the blooms are fully opened.






I planted this baby fothergilla shrub last year and it didn't do anything, but this year the blossoms just crack me up. I hope it will continue to grow and bloom profusely in the future.






This is a Missouri primrose (I think, correct me if I'm wrong.) This thing has the potential of being a weed. Its seeds sprout all over the place, but they are so cute and cheery that I don't care. I transplant some of the babies and give some away. It sits next to a Lenten rose that does the same thing.






I supposed this is special only to me. It is a hemlock, which doesn't grow well in this area, apparently because it gets too hot. When my daughter was going to school in South Bend, Indiana, the campus had so many of these beautiful trees, and I have tried to grow them since I saw them there. This is the first one that has survived and prospered, so far for about five years

I can't even guess how many dogwood trees have given up their lives to my ineptitude, but this one, so far, has bloomed every year. It puzzles me that I have such bad luck in growing these beautiful trees, because it's the state tree of Missouri, and if you drive around in certain sections of KC, you will be dumbstruck by the blooming dogwoods. I have three Kousa dogwoods that may or may not bloom a creamy white, but this one is the one I love best. It's beside a redbud, in front of a massive pine tree, and the combo is stunning, if I do say so myself.

Yesterday before Joey came to spend the afternoon, I went out in the mud and dug weeds out of one last patch of garden. Then Joe and I went to the nursery and the hardware store to get grass seed, weed killer, potting soil and lawn trash bags. Joe got a baby rake and some tiny gardening "glubs" so he could help Nana in the garden. We took "chicken dance Elmo" with us and one apparently sight-impaired gentleman asked Joey if he was going to help me, his mommy, in the yard. We bought whatever that guy was selling.

. . . neglected this blog

recently, as well as art. There's a good reason for it, though. My real estate agent told me that the main selling points for my home were the back yard, garden, deck, back porch, patios; and the kitchen. So I have been spending most of my time cleaning up the outdoors. I have always taken care of the gardens, but I never had much responsibility for the yard. Yesterday I spent ALL DAY raking, mowing bagging, break up limbs and packing them up for disposal, mulching, and generally making things begin to sparkle outside. Little Joey came to help for a few hours that just flew by. . . he ran around and rode his trike and played with the neighbor kids. I'm not quite done yet: I still have to paint some wooden rocking chairs and a side table that are staples on the deck; plant some annuals in a few large pots for the deck and patio; put out a couple of hanging baskets, and just generally keep up with the maintenance on the yard. It was gratifying to get into a hot shower last night. . . it was one of those showers where you can actually see DIRT coming off your body. Next comes the indoors, making the kitchen sparkle, too, but with the weather being so nice, it's hard to stay inside. My first tree peony blossomed yesterday. . . a beautiful ruffly double pink one. . . and new things are blooming and growing all the time.


The picture above is part of a new painting I'm working on. It's hard for me to paint right now, which is another reason I'm not blogging much. . . I don't have a lot to offer an I don't want to bitch about it. I'm trying to work through whatever it is that is blocking me, so I just paint whatever. . . just putting paint on canvas, seeing what happens, hoping something good comes out.

. . . played with paint

Here is a 30 x 30" painting I just finished yesterday. I continued in my quest for color, color, color. I think I achieved that goal in this painting. Pay no attention to any area that appears whitish. . . that's glare.






So, after completing the first painting, and before cleaning up the brushes, and kind of inspired by if not completely following suggestions in Painting Abstracts books, I dripped and splashed the leftover paint on a piece of canvas, threw on some rock salt while it was still very wet, and covered it with plastic wrap. I left it till dry, and this is the result.






And this is just a cropped portion of the second picture. I am completely delighted by this little experiment.