In the 11th grade, my English teacher, Mrs. Wolfe, admonished her class to always search for the correct noun or verb to use in our essays. I’ve been unwell lately, and my brain isn’t thinking clearly enough to process and edit a clever blog entry, or even search for the right words to use….and because of the malaise associated with an illness, I haven’t had the strength or energy to work on various art things in the studio. Using the word “things” to describe art stuff is the very sort of literary blunder about which Mrs. Wolfe admonished us. Whatever. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for several minutes and my clogged head still cannot find a clear translatable thought, much less try to come up with a better word than things…nothing.

The doctor thinks daughter Joy and I have whooping cough. Not fun.

Two weeks ago a “call for artists” went out. Was anyone interested in creating an art bike to help raise awareness for multiple sclerosis and in particular, the MS 150? The artist would all be paired with a rider or organization in order to coordinate telling a story through an art bike.

The bikes would be provided for the artist as well as a small stipend for supplies. At the warehouse, the bikes all looked so ordinary. Then, light from heaven above shone as the angels started their chorus of hallelujahs. I saw it; a classic vintage Huffy 3 speed from the 1970’s. This_is_the_bike.

The poor bike was in such bad shape that the tires were reduced to powder as it was being rolled to the suburban. Driving straight to the bike shop to get new tires, believe it or not, even the hard core bike dudes fell in love with it.

After riding it home, I started cleaning it up a bit, but not too much. It really is such a classic that I don’t want to alter it’s appearance permanently. It had, at some point, lived outside, because it had some vine type growth in the spokes and frame. There was also a dirt dauber nest that fell from somewhere while cleaning. Whew, I’m just glad it was an old dirt dauber nest.

One of the sweet deals of participating in the art bike project is that there is the option of keeping the bike after the exhibit. Nice! So therefore, anything “artistic” on the bike for this project is fully removable…so it can actually be ridden later. “Bike Lamp” was created using vines and an actual working lamp. At one point, I put out an apb in search of lamp shades. Three friends graciously donated shades. After trial and error, the brown shade won.

In my case, the MS 150 rider’s mother’s story inspired the creation of “Bike Lamp.” In spite of having multiple sclerosis, the mother continues to work full time in order to maintain health insurance benefits and full coverage upon retirement.

It is the artist’s hope that Bike Lamp will “shed light” on the “growing” health care issues in our country.

This morning, on the way to one of my favorite resale shops to look for a lampshade for an art project, I was detoured around some road work. No problem, it was a very small inconvenience. As I approached the re-routed street, I noticed a helicopter overhead. Then two, three helicopters hovered almost directly overhead. As I looked to the left, there were several emergency vehicles at the intersection I travel through all the time! It’s not a major thoroughfare. In fact, the street on which I drive is a semi lazy neighborhood cut through type street. Apparently, I just missed two fire trucks colliding into one another with such an impact as to knock one truck on it’s side, and onto another car, which knocked over a light pole, which (what I heard) fell on a lady riding her bicycle.

The accident occurred at the corner of Dunlavy and Westheimer.

Needless to say, it’s trippy to consider that this intersection is in my stomping grounds. It could have been me, or any number of my friends who live and work in the area.

No lampshade, but I am alive and uninjured, completely unscathed.

Thank God for detours.

Every time I see daffodils, it reminds me of the following quote from the movie, Big Fish.

Amos Calloway: Her favorite flower is daffodils.
Young Ed Bloom: Daffodils. [smiles]

Can there possibly be a happier flower? Doesn’t everyone love daffodils? It wasn’t the first year that I’ve planted daffodils in the garden, but it’s certainly been the best year for blooms. Not only the daffodils, but everything in the garden is blooming out the wazoo. Oh, and by the way, in case the reader has forgotten, yellow is my favorite color.

In order to paint as many spring flowers as possible, rather than taking more time to paint a larger painting, I thought that smaller canvases might help the the cause. In this case, the longer a painting takes to complete, the likelier the flowers will have dropped their blooms. So, these are small paintings, 5″x7″ and 6″x6″. The smallest painting I had done up to this point was 8″x10.” Hopefully, I’ll have time this week to get to other blooms and other canvases.

Laughing Song
by James Whitcomb Riley

Sing us something full of laughter;
&nbsp &nbsp Tune your harp, and twang the strings
Till your glad voice, chirping after,
&nbsp &nbsp Mates the song the robin sings:
Loose your lips and let them flutter
&nbsp &nbsp Like the wings of wanton birds, —
Though they naught but laughter utter,
&nbsp &nbsp Laugh, and we’ll not miss the words.

Sing in ringing tones that mingle
&nbsp &nbsp In a melody that flings
Joyous echoes in a jingle
&nbsp &nbsp Sweeter than the minstrel sings:
Sing of Winter, Spring, or Summer,
&nbsp &nbsp Clang of war, or low of herds;
Trill of cricket, roll of drummer–
&nbsp &nbsp Laugh, and we’ll not miss the words.

Like the lisping laughter glancing
&nbsp &nbsp From the meadow brooks and springs,
Or the river’s ripples dancing
&nbsp &nbsp To the tune the current sings–
Sing of Now, and the Hereafter;
&nbsp &nbsp Let your glad song, like the birds’,
Overflow with limpid laughter–
&nbsp &nbsp Laugh, and we’ll not miss the words.

This is what happens when the tyranny of the urgent crowds in and a painting can’t be finished in a timely manner. The still life starts decaying. It needs to be completed in spite of the lack of time. Well, technically it doesn’t need to be finished, but, whatever, I would like for the painting to be done. The set up is left as is so that I can match colors and put things in the right place, more or less.

Last Friday-ish (maybe Thursday) was the first day working on this painting. Even though the leaves and flowers have started to fall (see above photo,) I still needed to use it as reference for painting today.

The reason this painting looks fuzzy is because I paint without wearing my corrective lenses. This is how blurry life is (for me.)

Another thing one can notice is how I run out of room on the canvas. Reese claims it’s one of his favorite things about my painting style. There wasn’t room on the canvas for the table after the flowers were put in place.

And this is what happens when the flowers are twelve inches away from my face and sitting on the easel. Even with the flowers so close, there’s still not an excessive amount of clarity. Again, the wine bottle used as a vase didn’t fit completely on the canvas.

Many thanks to friend and neighbor, Becky, for allowing free reign to clip her azaleas for use in still life paintings. There is such a plethora of flowers blooming in her front yard that one can hardly tell that any are missing.

Oh, and happy birthday to my mom! Since she’s always been big on celebrating, but never keen on the actually counting the years, let me just say many happy returns of the day to her. Our computer crashed last week, and while we’re still having difficulty with file retrieval, Reese helped find and upload this photo of Mom with my little sister, Elizabeth on her wedding day a couple of summers ago. Mom, aka Sally, has always been generous in sharing her birthday with a slightly more noted saint, Patrick.

Here’s to you, Mom. Happy birthday.

It’s becoming a habit to take a camera almost everywhere. That’s how I was able to snap this classic photo while waiting at a stop light. The skull and crossbones rim is worthy for picture taking in it’s own regard….

But does it get any more surreal, bizarre, and confusing than these rims being on a minivan with a normal enough looking mom driving and three kids buckled up in the back seats?

Visual oxymoron is the term that comes to mind.

Ah, what a day! The sun, wind, and cowboys were out in full force, as well as a few clowns, for it’s rodeo time in Houston. Like last year, I helped supervise the fun for a few little munchkins. For the purpose of this story, let’s call these munchkins (l to r in the photo) Charles, Bill, and Mary.

Starting at the farm animal petting zoo, the kids were super glued to me, especially Mary. Everyone was excited about petting the animals when we were outside the pen, but as soon as the gate shut behind us, the reality sunk in that we were all in closed quarters with real live animals. Yikes! The deer kept trying to eat my skirt, and one very curious goat was absolutely convinced that we were long lost relatives. That silly goat insisted imploringly that we stop for a chat and cup of coffee. My poor young friends had no recollection whatsoever of being a relative (or even mere acquaintance) of the goat. The terror in their eyes grew at the goat’s increasing persistence. We politely declined the goat’s offer, and literally inched our way en masse out of the pen.

Next came the pig races. Charles did not want to see pigs fly, I mean, pigs race around a little track. First, a wee piglet swam across a water trough. So cute! Then, four little pigs came squealing out of a pen, lined up in marked lanes, put on their colorful racing vests, and were off! We had each picked our favorite pig based on vest colors. “Your pig won,” Charles said incredulously, “That was fun!”

After many more adventures, we went on a quest to find long promised ice cream. That’s when we bumped into these clowns. They graciously posed while I took a photo. Then the darnedest thing happened…the man clown pulled out his own camera, and asked if he could pose with me! That was a first! When I got home and told Reese, he said, “Can ya’ blame him?” Aw, thank you, Reese.

On the bus ride back to school, Mary said that her favorite thing was watching the pig races. Despite the terror at the time, Charles said that he liked petting the goat. (!) Whether he remembers or not, little Bill’s favorite thing was using the free hand sanitizer at various stations around the rodeo, but he said he liked our (impromptu) game of duck duck goose after eating ice cream. My favorite part?…holding hands with three new friends.

A small bit of forest
in our city park
is what I am painting
from now until dark.

It’s quite overwhelming
with canvas so large;
the painting is slow,
but at least it’s a start.

I better stay focused
(there’s no time to diddle)
and paint till exhausted
’cause time is so little.

For those who did not put your name in the hat, about three weeks ago I offered one of my paintings as a freebie to a blog reader. Tori, the young lady who won, is a sophomore at the University of Texas. I was delighted to recently discover that she is a regular blog reader of mine, in addition to her university studies. Everyone who entered (and didn’t win) was sent a courtesy e-mail. I couldn’t have been more pleased by the encouraging and delightful replies.

Here are a few of the many wonderful responses that you said when you heard that Tori won….

Hey, that is cool that it went to a student! Good to encourage those young collectors…

Congratulations to the winner of your painting!! That was such a fun idea!

It was my privilege to put my name in the hat! You have many disappointed “runners up” and one very excited winner! What a fun idea–and you got all of our hearts racing faster for a few days.

It was a fun idea, and I’m sure the gal who won is absolutely thrilled!

Tori will have an awesome keepsake to forever remember you and your art by. I bet it also serves as an inspiration and bookmark to her own life when she receives it.

That is so cool. I had been praying that someone would win your painting who really needed encouragement. It was fun to watch people’s responses.

Tori oozes grace, confidence, and joie de vivre. The natural talent of hers of which I’m most familiar is her clear alluring alto voice. She sings a groovy Danke Schoen.

(In case it’s not obvious, the photo at top is the actual name selection. The hat is a new-ish linen Panama style hat with an almost three inch brim.)