Our friendship began in November of 2006. It’s not normal for me to remember such a specific date, but because of this blog, it’s recorded. Last year, because of visas and jobs, our Russian friends moved back to Russia. I honestly thought that we would never see them again on God’s green earth. But, as small as the world continually seems to be, and thanks to the brilliancy of instant communication on social networking sites such as facebook, here they are. And here we all are.

This little family is extremely talented.

Alexey is an artist.

Masha (Maria Markina) is an opera singer.

And this cutie pie is already learning to speak and read three languages, Russian, English, and German. She loved the tree house. Over and over she said, “It’s beautiful. It’s beautiful up here.”

Alexey and Masha were interested in the grand tour of the Hazel House of Art. After looking at the garden, patio, pond, mural, and paintings, the only thing left was to play the ukulele for them.

They had never seen an ukulele before. Naturally, I encouraged Reese to join me on guitar for an impromptu performance of That’s Amore, our signature crowd pleasing performance piece, at the end of which, the internationally acclaimed opera singer sitting in our living room said, “You are so talented.” HA! Flattered, but incredulous, I said, “YOU are an internationally renowned opera singer! You’ve got to be kidding!” She said, “Yes, but that’s my work, my job. You are creative and talented and live that way.” Thank you…from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

(What really happened was that she has was “Hazeled,” a lingering phenomenon that occurs when people are temporarily confused, overwhelmed, and generally delighted by our extremely normal, yet slightly eccentric excessiveness. Others who have been “Hazeled” coined the phrase on our behalf.)

Until we meet again, Счастливого пути.

Even living in a big city like Houston, there are bits of wild along the roads and bayous where one can pick blackberries in season. Fresh blackberries just so happen to be delicious when baked in a pie. Yum.

A few days ago, Houston’s Art Car Parade temporarily transformed the roadways just west of downtown on Allen Parkway. Our favorite car year after year?….St Arnold Brewery’s tie dyed Bentley. The Amazing Reese and I are posing (St Arnold beer in hand) with friend and owner of the brewery, Brock Wagner. Not only does Brock brew the best tasting beer in the state of Texas, he also makes a mean margarita. I speak from experience.

Anna has become a seasonal worker. Last summer she spent working just outside Denali National Park in Alaska. Over the winter, she worked and lived on a dude ranch in southern Arizona. And in two weeks-ish, she’ll be working on another dude ranch in far northern Colorado. It will be a while before we see her again, so I’m taking advantage of every opportunity as an excuse to chronicle her short visit at home in photographs (and paintings.) For this photo, she was only going out with a friend for a couple of hours, but any excuse, right?

Today, sweet darling Anna posed for me. She relaxed and read a book while I painted. Having never hired an artist model before, in my humble opinion, Anna was the consummate professional.

Every now and then, she would giggle and read aloud a passage from the book that tickled her. It was cute, because often, the giggle was just when the paintbrush was poised just so, and I was adjusting the mouth, or the shadow under her nose, or something.

When posing, she was wearing a different top.

One of my grander plans is to start painting a portrait series of friends, neighbors, and quite possibly strangers. If anyone wants to volunteer an afternoon being still and quiet, and have your portrait painted, please either e-mail me or leave a comment. We can then coordinate our schedules.

Interestingly enough, even though I recently made an idea list, today is filled with complete distraction as my brain wanders aimlessly in the studio. Occasionally, I stare at the blank canvas on the easel. What is it supposed to be?

Looking at the list doesn’t help. At the very least, the hydrangea is planted in a spot where it can be seen from the kitchen and studio windows. That’s good.

I go outside to look for pretty things to paint; flowers, leaves, tree branches….nothing seems acceptable. Hilary tells me not to cut the flowers on the hydrangea. “They’re too pretty,” she says. She’s right, of course.

Back in the studio…for what? I squeeze small amounts from tubes of paint on the palette thinking that seeing the oils of various colors and hues will help inspire. Nothing.

I carelessly flip the pages of an art book on the life of Suzanne Valadon. She, like other artists, painted a lot of self portraits. Maybe it’s time to work on a self portrait. In this lackluster mood, it would be a morose painting. Nobody wants to see that.

There are several paintings in a state that need tweeking…not today, though.

I read a book. I pray. I play a game of xmahjongg on the computer, and another, and another. I start dismantling the contents of my desk and make a mess to re-organize. Distracted by memories kept in my desk, I notice the house is quiet. I’m home alone, a perfect afternoon to paint, and yet, I do nothing. I think nothing. I create nothing.

The exact beginning of our friendship is unclear. I think we met at a neighborhood garage sale and bonded over gardening. However it happened, our friendship was an instant connection. Her name is Hope.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, Reese and I were walking around Rice, and curiously, we saw an older gentleman standing in the pathway awaiting our arrival in the distance. After pleasantries, he joined us for the rest of our walk. Derek turned out to be a delightful conversationalist, and another instant friendship formed. By the end of our walk, I had put two and two together, and figured out that Hope and Derek are married.

Well, our dear friends Hope and Derek moved to Austin a few years ago, and consequently the opportunities for random or planned get togethers were greatly diminished.

One night last week, Hope and Derek dropped in for an impromptu visit, (they were in town for medical reasons) and stayed for supper — a perfectly cooked, fall off the bones, delicious coq au vin. Because the downstairs air conditioner was broken, we ate alfresco, and were especially pleased that it was such a pleasant evening.

In turn, they invited us for supper the following night. Now, I’m not one to answer the phone during a meal with friends, but after three phone calls and one text message in rapid succession, I thought it prudent to answer the phone.

The air conditioner had been slowly dying for a few years. Our a/c guy had been injecting it with the a/c version of steroids — freon– for several summers in a row. Every year he would say the same thing, “We need to replace this unit.” And I’d say, “How long do you think it will last? Can’t we just dose it up with freon?” A dose of freon is a fraction of the cost of replacing an entire three ton unit, so he very graciously complied…until this year. This year, the a/c wasn’t just mostly dead, it was all dead. No amount of freon could revive it. And the discounted price for a new unit would be $2500. For some gentle readers this might not seem like a lot of money, but for us it was an insurmountable sum.

In Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Tipping Point, he describes a social network of people called connectors and mavens; people who easily assimilate and willingly distribute information that will be helpful to others. I know a few of these people, and called Bill for a/c advice. Bill passed along the number for Ivan. Ivan’s first language is NOT English, so I was uncertain whether or not I had properly conveyed that we wanted to buy a used (or quite possible an used — the inter web verdict is still out on this one) a/c. I’m pretty sure that Ivan said he had a Jork and would stop by the house the following afternoon at four. Four came and went and no Ivan.

At 8:30pm, the phone calls that interrupted our night out with Hope and Derek were from sweet neighbors trying to contact us because Ivan was at the house with an old York 3 ton a/c unit — ready to install. This “new” eight year old York air conditioner is more energy efficient, quieter, and is all around a better system than we had before. Houston’s heat and humidity skyrocketed the very next day, but graciously, we were spared the heat. It’s wonderful and cool inside.

The new old Jork was less than one tenth of the discounted price of a new unit. God bless Ivan.

God bless our dear friends, Hope and Derek, too.

Blog Entry Ideas

1. two simultaneous John Singer Sargent exhibits at MFAH
2. Alice Neal exhibit at MFAH, movie, finding Ginny Neal’s glasses
3. the old air conditioner and new old a/c
4. Hawaii high school friend coming to House Art Show
5. Russian friends coming to visit
6. Houston/Austin friends
7. being sick (and tired) for two weeks
8. being extremely frugal except when painting
9. how long it takes to work on portrait commissions
10. how it feels to paint…
11. the importance of naps
12.

Ideas for Paintings

1. Reuben from Jamaica
2. El Mariachi
3. Reese singing with the Mariachis
4. Sarah & Reese dancing
5. little girl laughing
6. girl reading
7. lonely bicycle
8. amaryllis before the bloom fades
9. roses from the back yard
10. scene from the studio window (?)
11. night sky and shadows
12. Mary
13. neighbor lady at the wedding
14. studies of shapes and colors at Rice University
15. the neighbors’ 100 year old trees
16. assorted views from the front patio
17. mother and child, child nursing
18. siblings holding new baby
19. Houston old buildings and warehouses in Midtown
20. Japanese Garden (again)
21. portraits of people at Bike Workshop
22. portraits of my neighbors
23.

Ideas (dreams) for House & Garden

1. paint the living room happy yellow
2. plant hydrangea so that I can see it always from the kitchen sink
3. re-design and re-shape the front garden (scoop in instead of out)
4. clean and organize the garage
5. turn garage into art studio
6. build patio area for the grill in back yard
7. replace window to hopefully fix leak in entryway
8. finish caulking and painting ceiling in study
9.

Ideas for Life

1. write a book
2. write a book
3. write a book
4.

Some day, this will be a Sarah Hazel painting. Well, at least that’s what I’ve been thinking.

Anna is home.
My nose is runny.
Winnie the Pooh
likes to eat hunny.

Anna’s been gone
for ever so long
now she is here,
and singing us songs.

Guitar she plays
her sound pure and raw,
mesmerizing –
I listen in awe.

Soon she will leave
adventure awaits
Anna, it’s true
You ARE super great.

This painting almost didn’t go in the House Art Show. At the last minute, I decided to go ahead and hang it. Apparently, it sparked some discussion. The eventual buyer was intrigued at this painting’s ambiguity. Is the reader male or female? What kind of book is it?

For my part, it’s one of those paintings that has been sitting in the studio for a year. Every instance at putting it on the easel to work on it, I would stare at it for a while, and then decide that it didn’t need anything more. It was finished. But it’s not like my other paintings.

What is art, AND should I be defining my art so early in the game? Honestly, here I am working at a craft for which there is no consensus of definition. Art is so subjective.

It’s an 18″ x 24″ oil on linen. It lives with someone else now.

In Mexico, it’s not uncommon to see beggars, especially sitting on the ground or steps outside the cathedrals. It’s a way of life. Their world is a blur of poverty upon poverty. They seem to be mostly ignored, even by the Mexicans.

This is a 14″ x 18″ oil on linen painting.