Last week Monday, we dropped the paintings off at the gallery. I came home to empty walls, and wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of raw emotions that assaulted me. What had I done?

By Tuesday, David, the gallery owner had curated the exhibit, and everything looked great. He gave us a small tour, and wall after wall put the paintings in the best possible light, literally and figuratively. Toward the end of the walk through, he said, “I need one more painting for the show. Do you have one more small vertical painting for this wall?”, and then he showed us a small wall that indeed could use a small painting. I mentioned a few paintings that I still had at home, and he said, “too big, wrong size, not right….do you have anything else? Can you paint something?”

Dumbly, I said, “Sure, no problem.”

So right away, I went to the art supply store, bought an 8″ x 10″ canvas, stopped at the florist on the way home, bought some tulips, got home, set up a still life in my studio, and started a new painting. I say still life, but tulips are anything but still. They kept following the sun, and opening and closing, so that I finally had to just paint them in place. Painting that day and the next did wonders for my fragile psyche.

Every painting needs a frame, and bless his heart, when I agreed to paint another image, Reese also agreed to have it framed in time for the show on Thursday. We both got busy; me in the studio, and Reese in the garage with all his tools. Mind you, Reese made at least 50 frames for the show…not one accident. But making this tiny frame, he sliced off the end of his right index finger and fingernail. Lord, have mercy. He almost passed out on the kitchen floor.

We both finished our parts by 2 o’clock on Thursday afternoon, and when we got to the gallery at 6, handed the wet painting (and the haiku description card) to David Baquero, who put it in it’s place. The end.

The gallery show went wonderfully well. There were a few glitches and things that we forgot, but nothing that made the evening less fun.

Starting at 6pm, or slightly before, we had a few people lining up outside the gallery waiting for the keys to arrive. For our part, earlier in the day we mentioned to the gallery owner that we would see him by 5:30, and he said not to worry…just show up at 6, that people don’t usually come to galleries before 7. We had already communicated that several people had told us that they were going to stop by between work and supper, so I knew we would have a small crowd there early, and we did.

The crowd kept arriving. It was great to see everyone enjoying themselves. My friend, Michael Coker drove Elli and Erin in from Austin—sweet! Some of my youngest friends came; the Jonsson boys turned the evening into some sort of project to find the paintings in numerical/alphabetical order—very cute. A family who used to live in Jamaica recognized the beach scene before they saw the name of the painting. That was cool. Several people said that when they realized that all the description cards were in haiku, they went back through the exhibit and re-read everything and re-looked at all the paintings based on the haiku descriptions.

The one thing we didn’t do was get pictures—bummer. If anyone has any photos of the evening, I would appreciate some copies.

The whole event was a whirlwind. Many thanks to all who attended. It truly made a special evening absolutely wonderful.

Morning is my most sluggish time of the day. It takes a while to get my motor running, and then it needs another kick around 10:30 or so. Morning people must accomplish more things than I do….because my day drags until just before lunch. Of course, then it’s time to actually eat lunch, which takes more time, so that my day really gets started at around 12:30.

This morning, I thought it would be a good idea to practice for next weekend’s street painting extravaganza. Remember, I’m “painting” a ten foot by ten foot square in the middle of a street downtown, to raise money for the Center for Hearing and Speech.

Amazingly, I think I made it outside by 10-ish. Reese helped me mark off a giant square on our driveway, and I sketched and started working on an image that I thought would look great for the festival. Turns out that it was a big mess. So I washed off the first image, got out the leaf blower to dry the driveway, and got to work on a second image.

Good grief. It is so challenging. I, for the life of me, couldn’t figure out proportions, even after Reese came inside and made a grid of the whole image. And I am worn out, and didn’t even finish a one foot by one foot portion of the whole thing. And it’s the afternoon….prime time, but I am out of gas.

Here is a link to the article by Nick Keppler in the Night and Day section of the Houston Press.

My husband is amazing. He’s building all the frames for the show. As he finishes each frame, he frames each painting, and brings them back inside to hang on the walls. These frames have transformed the collection painting by painting, until it looks like we are living in an art gallery. His fine craftsmanship helps the eye focus on the painting, not the space around it. While they are absolutely perfect for the paintings, they might easily be overlooked. When you come to the show, and everything looks great, it will be in part because Reese has done such an outstanding job with the frames. He’s putting the finishing touches on the last three frames today.

By the way, he also built the art studio website from scratch, and photographs all the paintings.

A very talented friend wrote this press release:

Local artist Sarah Hazel brings newfound vision and talent to local gallery

October 24, 2006 – Morningside Place – A couple of years ago, if one wanted to view Sarah Hazel’s painting prowess, their only option was standing in the backyard of her Morningside Place home. On November 9, from 6-9 p.m., however, the Baquero Gallery in Rice Village provides a more fitting venue to showcase her depiction of “beauty in ordinary moments” at the opening reception of her solo exhibit.

During Spring Break in 2004, Sarah and her four daughters scaled a portion of their roof to recreate masterpieces on the back of their house: van Gogh’s Starry Night, Paul Cezanne’s Big Trees, and Claude Monet’s Sailboats at Sea, Pourville, and water-lily series. (A house-painting budget dried up after contracting for the front of the house, leaving the back of the house bare). Sarah attributes this mammoth, hurricane-proof mural as an artistic awakening of sorts.

Two years later, with no formal training and only a portrait painting book purchased at nearby Half-Priced Books as a guide, the 42-year-old homemaker turned artist has produced over 85 oil paintings of which 45 will be on display in her show “Finding My Glasses.”

“My daughter, Anna, helped come up with the name (for the show). The title signifies this new vision I’m discovering through painting, this new way of looking at life,” explains Sarah. “I’m transforming from one phase of my life to a new phase of being a professional artist. I’m truly ‘finding my glasses.’”

“I’ve stumbled through life,” muses Sarah. “I’ve never had an interest in painting. Never had the desire at all. I took one class, brought home a sunflower still life, and my husband was so enthusiastic that he went out that weekend and bought me all the supplies I’d need.” Now when she paints, she “feels God’s pleasure” (can’t you hear the Chariots of Fire theme?)

Sarah describes her work as a fusion of post-impression and post-modern art. Her strokes are bold, the colors bright, while the paintings summon a “peaceful response.” Sarah’s collection of paintings varies from still lifes to portraits to landscapes, with no particular genre capturing a leading role. The common thread are the moments captured in each piece – ordinary life.

“There are years of ordinary events, especially for a wife, homemaker, and mother of four daughters,” explains Sarah. “My life was confined to ordinary moments, as most of our lives are: yet, in the midst of those, you can find beauty and be content with what God has given you.”

What Providence has now provided is a deep desire to create and a newfound talent to do so. If you miss her at Baquero, Sarah still might let you walk through her backyard gate and get a glimpse of where it all began.

A portion of Sarah’s proceeds from the opening reception benefit Center for Student Missions (www.csm.org) a non-profit organization dedicated to serving the men, women, and children who reside in Houston’s urban centers.

Solo exhibit:
Finding My Glasses
Opening reception – Thursday, November 9, 6-9 p.m.
Baquero Gallery
5502 Chaucer
Houston, TX 77005

For more information:
http://sarahhazel.blogspot.com
www.sarahhazel.com

This morning was the second workshop for Via Colori, an upcoming street painting festival to benefit The Center for Hearing and Speech. Like before, we were given brief instruction, then went outside to a chalked off square to practice “painting.” Between the last workshop and this, I have at least learned how to dress for the event….stretch jeans (to accommodate all the bending), a long undershirt (to cover the distance between the jeans and t-shirt as I bend over—think plumber), and a baseball hat to keep the sun and hair off my face.

Like before, the professional artist demonstration was overwhelming. The artists who fly around the country giving demonstrations usually paint in the tradition of Italian street painters, which would be very similar to Italian Renaissance paintings, such as a Michelangelo copy of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. I’m not kidding; one of the slide examples of a street painting that the workshop artist worked on recently was a copy of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Another intimidating factor in both workshops was the artists talking about how long it takes them to complete a street painting, which is here today, gone tomorrow. “Days, weeks, months, who knows?”* Will it really take that long?

The practice square for both events was two feet by two feet. The actual square size that I will paint in the event will be ten feet by ten feet. Gulp. That’s a lot of ground to cover, literally.

One more thing to note as I look at the photo of today’s art, it’s likely to be difficult to get proper balance, colors, lights and darks when the size of the canvas (street) is so large, and I’m right on top of it. When I paint on actual canvas, I constantly walk back and forth to see how the painting is developing. With these street painting parameters, and the larger scale, and not being able to see it properly, well, it’s just a different dynamic. Should be fun.

* Quote attributed to Eeyore

What I should be doing right now is writing the description cards for each painting in the exhibit. Since they all developed through the use of my mind and hands, it stands to reason that I should have something eloquent to say about each of them. However, I sit here twiddling my opposable thumbs and can’t think of a thing to write.

On the same night as the gallery opening reception, one of our favorite Houston organizations is having their annual fundraiser. Because we can’t be there that evening, I’ve decided that ten percent of my proceeds from the opening reception will go to CSM Houston. “Center for Student Missions partners with existing local ministries to live out Jesus’ call to feed the hungry, clothe the stranger, visit the sick, and reach out to the prisoner. CSM Houston focuses on serving the men, women, and children who reside in Houston’s urban center.”

My four daughters have all participated in this program. They can now put names with the homeless faces we see in the streets everyday. They have served meals in soup kitchens, played games with children at community centers, and gotten dirty weeding a community garden.

The opportunities for influence continued long after the week of CSM was over. They have continued their service by tutoring Star of Hope children, organizing medical supplies, and have made lasting friendships. One young lady has come over several times for family meals, and to braid my daughter’s hair. Another huge benefit from our daughters involvement is that we now know where all the good ethnic restaurants are. Jerk chicken and ginger beer…..yum!

In effect, CSM serves the city of Houston by helping a little bit with the many organizations designed to minister to the marginalized. Houston really is full of heart.

It has been a great self-imposed trial to complete the paintings for the exhibit that is now less than a month away. Today I determined that I have enough finished works, and anything I get done from this point forward is icing on the cake. This is a HUGE relief.

The process required to get to this point has been rigorous, but delightful. Good thing I enjoy painting so much.

The invitations are in the mail. Not everyone who reads this will get a mailed invitation, but please know that I am extending my personal invitation. I would be pleased for you and your friends to attend.

Details on my website: Sarah Hazel