Showing posts with label Organized. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organized. Show all posts

July 29, 2015

Flights of Fancy

 I know my paint box is way too clean. The rest of it I call organized chaos.
  The flowers in the front were painted last July. I'm working on the Lady Slippers. It's a flower that I can't seem to let go of.

New addition.  It needs to be re-potted.
Life size.

I decided that I would try and draw everyday in July. I've almost kept that commitment. A few more days and I will have nailed it. Hopefully, I can do the same for August.
I had a few comments and emails regarding my last post. I think we all agree-- sometimes tentatively-- that yes most people can draw, so please don't give up. And don't worry about mistakes because mistakes are a big part of learning anything worthwhile! And if someone should laugh so what. Well, I know it's not always comfortable to be laughed at, but the following story warms the heart and points out what's possible.

Many years ago, I met a lady who was the older mother of a friend of mine.  And wow, could she paint!  She painted landscapes, ocean scenes, flowers-- the most divine silken roses, portraits--you name it. She told me that she didn't pick up a brush until she was in her fifties.  She had a wonderful studio that faced the ocean. Sand for miles, sunlight dancing over the waves, a few twirling seabirds and the salt sea breeze that begged to be inhaled as it, with a hint of mist, swirled in through the open windows. I could have stayed there indefinitely. 

After tea, she took me up to the attic where she stored her earlier works. As I stood looking at her paintings, she smiled and said, "it's laughable, now, isn't it?" Sometimes the spotlight is not the place to be. I mumbled something and shifted uneasily. Then she ask me as she pointed to a large canvas  (her first) if I knew what it was. I studied it for awhile but I couldn't come up with an answer. "It," she said, with amusement that tickled the corners of her mouth and played up the light in her eyes, "is a lady of the evening." (Abstract would not begin to cover it.) She also said she was very proud of that particular painting.  She went on to say that one evening, at a gathering, just after she had painted it she showed it to a few of  her neighbours and everyone laughed. 
I skipped down the stairs. It was time to go.  But before I left I took one last look out of her studio window at the beach and the sea in the distance and then before I left the room I looked back at her beautiful paintings and felt certain that she clearly had the last laugh, although I'm sure she didn't want it because she was so kind.

Enjoy the weekend!
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