Portrait commissions are tricky.

After struggling on a commissioned portrait for five months, yesterday, I decided to start over from scratch. Five hours later, this is what was left on the canvas.

So, does all the time that I spent on the first painting count toward the completion of this one, because I’ve been thinking and painting and planning all along and working through internal conflict and debate over how to paint this person?

On top of that, it’s not what was asked for when I was commissioned. The patron wanted something very specific, and this is not it. The subject of the painting hated this reference photo, and asked me to PLEASE not use it. But I think she looks beautiful here. Her delightfully winning personality shows in this painting (in my humble opinion.) She’s quick to laugh, highly intelligent, loving and giving, and as if that wasn’t enough, she’s sexy and beautiful…..I adore her.

The Amazing Reese just asked if I was going to put a photo of the first portrait up for comparison purposes, so you, gentle reader, could visualize exactly what was creating all the artistic fuss. Looking back through the photos on the camera card, I noticed an earlier incarnation of the painting in question…before I repainted it again and again AND AGAIN, and that was at least the second re-painting at that point! Reese and I see beauty in both paintings and can’t decide whether or not it looks better in the-three-re-paintings-ago-state than it does now.

So, in order to give the patron exactly what they asked for in the beginning, I guess I’ll re-paint the first portrait ONE MORE TIME, and then let them chose between the two portraits.

To completely finish this painting, I’ll let it dry for a week or so, and then go back and do a minimal amount of touch up on the eyes, mouth, and nose, just to slightly tweak it in order to confirm, for the viewer and patron, the full resemblance, in spirit and truth, to this beautiful (sexy) lady.

This lovely flower arrangement was given me by two sweet young girls who came with their parents to the House Art Show. The girls picked the flowers themselves. It reminded me of my own sweet daughters who used to delight in bringing me flowers that they had picked in the backyard. So precious.

It’s extremely flattering to know that people enthusiastically appreciate my work. Just one of the many nice things that those in attendance last Thursday said was,

“Thank you for welcoming us into your awesome home! In addition to observing your fantastic artwork, I observed many in attendance and all were appreciative and truly inspired by your art.”

Twenty paintings and two sketches sold (so far) through the House Show. Wow. Thanks y’all. Even though 20 paintings sold, there are 80 paintings left on the walls; something for everyone — come see for yourself!

As previously mentioned, for this show there was to be an apple painting give away. The guidelines for this particular give-away included the names entered from the last painting give-away. The Amazing Reese held the bowl high above my head so that I couldn’t see which name I was picking. A long time reader of the blog and personal friend, James Newman won.

On Friday for lunch, Hilary and I went to the Rice Gallery artist talk AND the student run exhibit space, Matchbox Gallery. Another good friend and student at Rice was exhibiting in Matchbox Gallery… located in the courtyard of Sewell Hall, which turned out to be off the beaten path, down a twirly staircase– and locked — though we could see her work through the front French door type windows.

The Rice Gallery show was quirky and fun, and will be on view all summer, so if one is so inclined, by all means, go see it.

Hilary and I often go to the Rice Gallery talks. This go around, we met a lady who was there with her 45 year old daughter. They first started going to the gallery together when her daughter was 20. It was fun to think that in 25 years, Hilary and I might still go to the gallery talks with each other. I hope we do.

It just so happens that I was wearing one of my vintage jewelry pieces. The same super sweet lady (doesn’t she look nice?) used to work for Tiffany’s, and after careful examination of my necklace, convinced me that it’s silver, even though it’s unmarked. (It’s the same necklace that I’m wearing in the photo below.)

As if all of that isn’t exciting enough, on Saturday night, Reese and I had the pleasure of meeting, listening to, singing with, and dancing to the lyrical, jazzy, boogie woogie blues music of the legendary and incredibly great pianist, Johnny O’Neal. This guy knows how to play! He’s extremely unassuming and humble in person, but sit him in front of 88 keys and be prepared for heart throbbing, toe tapping, body swaying excellence.

(He played the role of Art Tatum in the 2004 Academy Award Nominated film Ray.)

Scene: House Art Show. The house is full with art, patrons, and friends. It’s noisy with background chatter — like the sound of a typical Hazel party; adults and children interacting comfortably and with enthusiasm. Reese, Sarah, and Carolyn, a long time friend, are in the den, a long, thin, wood panelled room with large windows toward the back of the house. Reese offers Carolyn some wine.

Reese looks at Carolyn: “Would you like some wine?”

Carolyn, thinking with one raised eyebrow for a split second, then heartily agreeing with a twinkle in her countenance: “Sure. What the heck? I’ll have some wine.”

Reese, the consummate host, looks at Carolyn: “Red or White?”

Carolyn smiling: “Red. Red sounds good.”

Reese, looking beyond Carolyn at another lady, Jen. He raises his eyebrows and asks Jen if she wants some wine: “Jen?”

Carolyn — laughing, but with a questioning “WHAT?” look on her face: “No, I don’t think that I need any GIN. Red wine is OK. I’ll just have a red wine.”

Reese doesn’t notice, nor, apparently does Jen.

Sarah talks under her breath to Carolyn with an amused look on her face: “I’m sorry. We don’t have any gin. There’s a lady named Jen behind you.”

Both Carolyn and Sarah are immensely amused by the play on the word “gin” and both start giggling and squirming with laughter. Reese, oblivious to the situation, hands Carolyn a glass of red wine.

Carolyn graciously accepts the wine.

All photos are courtesy of Hilary Hazel.

On view, for the House Art Show tomorrow night, (April 8th, 6-8pm, 2315 Addison Rd, Houston) will be 101 paintings. The house isn’t that big…there are paintings everywhere; sketches, too.

If the math is right, I’ve painted 175 paintings since November of 2004, just over five years ago. It seems weird crazy that I had never picked up a paintbrush before then, and now there’s this, by sheer numbers, body of work that has been accomplished in a relatively short time frame.

Based on at-large response, we’re expecting a decent crowd for the House Art Show. With that in mind, some furniture has been moved to the garage to make room for people to mill about the place, and see all the art. It seems silly, but I feel like I’m slightly betraying the furniture. More than anything, it would be great for everyone to get the total Hazel experience, and honestly, I feel like the furniture is part of the Hazel House “package.” Ridiculous, I know. This is my (rolls eyes and shakes head) public apology to the poor chairs and things resigned to the dark lonely garage for the duration of the show.

For those who attend who haven’t been here before, remember to go in the back yard if you haven’t seen the mural, yet. Just to repeat, art work is all over the house….upstairs, too. Enjoy yourself. Oh, and put your name and contact information in the bowl for the painting give-away.

Sarah Hazel Open House Art Show
2315 Addison Rd, Houston, Texas
April 8th, 6-8pm
Light refreshments will be served

I was a town girl.

My daddy was the preacher, and we lived in the manse just a little short block from the church on Main Street. It seemed like all of my friends lived out in the country. Looking back on it, we all lived in the country because Centreville, Mississippi was in the middle of nowhere, though it was the center of my little world.

My best friend, Nona lived on a farm out on Old Macedonia Road. It thrilled and terrified me when her momma, Aunt Kay (pronounced ain’t) said we could saddle up the horse and go for a ride. Aunt Kay wasn’t my real aunt, but this was southern Mississippi, and since Nona and I were so close, it just didn’t feel right to call her Miss Kay, or the more formal Mrs. Hughes. No, in Centreville, she was just Aunt Kay.

Usually, Nona and I’d ride their old Shetland pony, Sunshine. Even I wasn’t afraid of Ole Sunshine. But sometimes we’d saddle up the real horse…the tall ones. Of course, all horses were big compared to Sunshine. I could ride Sunshine till the cows came home, which, incidentally, they did every evening around five. No, these horses were so big that it scared me a little bit. Oh, I don’t remember their names, but I do remember their hot hides, and the way they would look at me when I tried to hoist myself in the saddle. I never could remember which side to get up on, and which side to slide off, so both the horse and I were a little nervous. But getting to ride a real big horse….oh, that was something exciting, special.

And at the end of the day, somebody’d come pick me up and we’d go back to our house in town. As much as I liked riding horses and running through the pastures, going back to town suited me just fine — still does.

The Kiss, by Auguste Rodin, 1840-1917, in the Museum of Fine Art, Houston, The Lillie and Hugh Roy Cullen Sculpture Garden.

The Kiss, by Sarah & Reese Hazel, 1963 and counting, in the Museum of Fine Art, Houston, The Lillie and Hugh Roy Cullen Sculpture Garden.

Just a week ago (OK, maybe two weeks) this garden bed was, by all appearances, dead. Look at it now. All sorts of growing things are coming back to life.

This is what the doves like to do — daily. They perch atop the cherubs and drink from the fountain gurgle. Sometimes, if their little beaks hit the fountain at just the right angle, the water shoots in a stream 6 or 7 feet out and away. That’s how the Amazing Reese first noticed that the doves had discovered our water supply. He saw water shooting across the yard and wondered what was happening. It’s funny to watch, and also partially explains the ever decreasing water level in the pond…those rascals.

Yesterday, I tried taking a photo of the event from inside but the click of the camera — even inside — scared them away. Plus, the outside of the window is still dirty, so the photo didn’t turn out very well. So this morning, I sat very still in the back yard for a very long time waiting for the doves to not be afraid of me, or the camera.

Several weeks ago, sweet daughter Anna suggested that before the house art show (on April 8th, 6-8pm), it would be a good idea to dust. She knows that dusting (for me) is not a top priority in life. That said, I do believe that it’s just good common courtesy to have a relatively clean home when entertaining. Not all the time, maybe, because then we (the proverbial we) would never “show hospitality.” The point being that if we all waited for the house to be spotless before we had people over, then we’d NEVER have company…because the house would never look or be good enough. Remember our saying? Confession time: sometimes I use it (the saying) as an excuse to NOT dust. (but my mom already knew that.)

So, I was planning on dusting anyway, cheered on by Anna, but the reason for starting today is that someone requested a private pre-viewing of the art before next week’s show. (They will be here in a few minutes.) It’s a good thing, too, that cleaning type work started on the house today, because there’s still so much dust left to dust. (They assured me that the house need not be dust free in order to see the art. In fact, the exact quote from them was, “Don’t dust! Hell, we wont be able to breathe!”)

AND, it seems like a mistake, now that the work has begun, that I started cleaning the inside of a few windows, too…because now I can tell how dirty the windows are on the outside. Oh, well, live and learn. (To tell the truth, I’m not sure what I’m learning, but there’s a whole lot of living going on around here.)

This Louisiana iris has been a part of the family for a long time.

We first noticed it as a volunteer in the back yard of our old house, 25-ish years ago. How it ever grew there is beyond me. The conditions at the little blue house were atrocious; gummy soil, under a pecan tree so no sun, and no nutrients. But every year a half dozen or so of these would bloom. So naturally, when we moved (12 years ago,) I dug up a few to bring with us to the this house. In spite of valiant efforts to plant the iris in a moisture rich compost friendly environment, right next to the water hose, it had not thrived like it should have. Well, that is until last year when some of it was re-planted right next to the fountain. It LOVES living there and often rewards me with blossoms.

This was my first time to paint a Louisiana iris, which is quite lovely, but a very complicated flower to paint. It also smelled like stale socks when I brought it up to the studio….not pleasant. Even though the weather was cool, I had to open the studio window just to air out the strong lingering stink of the oh-so-beautiful iris.

From now on, I’ll just enjoy the blooms from a distance.

The top painting is 6″ x 6″ oil on canvas. The painting below is 6″ x 8″ oil on canvas.

Reese and I hold this truth to be self evident, that all people at all times are more important than stuff, or doing stuff.

One of Reese and my guiding philosophies is that people are always more important than things or doing things, even when a deadline is involved. There are times when one needs to put ones nose to the grindstone, so to speak, but by and large, most chores can wait. And honestly, the work gets done eventually….

Which is why I was delighted when, while working on the front footpath yesterday, a sweet friend dropped by for a visit. She apologized for interrupting the work, but I assured her that she was far more important than the work continuing RIGHT THEN. At which point she made a very astute observation (and this is a quote as best I can remember), “You’re right. What good is it to have a perfect footpath if there are no people in your life to walk to your front door when the work is done?” Exactly.

Midday, the winner of the apple painting give-away came by to receive her painting, and my soul was refreshed by another delightful visit.

Now y’all remember, there will be another apple painting give-away at 8pm-ish on April 8th (during the House Art Show.) Everyone who has already entered for the first free painting give away will be automatically re-entered for the second give away. If, however, someone attends the House Art Show, they are allowed and encouraged to re-enter, in effect doubling their chances for the second painting give-away.

Work continued.

This is what the new path looks like from the front door toward the street. Ten bricks up on the far right of the photo used to be a chunk of garden. (The chunk of garden is visible in Monday’s photo — top left.) It took some creative figuring to decide how to tie in the new work with the old patio (not visible in the photo.) This was the best idea — to remove a chunk O’ garden.

And this is what it will look like (from the street to the front door) when YOU come to visit.

At the end of the day, neighbor friends walked up the new footpath for an impromptu celebration bringing wine, fellowship, laughter, and conversation. There’s more work to be done, but isn’t there always?