What’s in Mommie’s Pocketbook?

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I did this still life during a workshop I took from Marla Baggeta (more on that workshop in a later post). The assignment was to choose an object and paint it on the biggest piece of paper we had left…fast. So this is my bag, painted on a piece of 18″x12″ kitty wallis paper.

When I was a little girl my favorite book was titled “What’s in Mommy’s Pocketbook?”. It was a little board book that had sleeves with little card board objects that would have been in a purse, a key, a mirror, lipstick, etc. My Dad lovingly remade all those little cardboard pieces not once but twice during my childhood, and twice more for my children, the last time the book got new binding. I am thankful for all the times my family has helped me re-do something spending hours of precious time, in the face of the consumer culture monster that tempts us that buying new would be easier.

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As a year end review, I thought I would go through my bag. Here are its contents:

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There was a fair amount of garbage that I chose not to photograph. The little pink coin purse could get one out of most jams. It contains: instant coffee, Advil for big and little people, benedryl because it is not, if, but when someone in my family gets stung by something venomous, eye drops, CPR mask, fingernail clippers, a nail file, a variety of hair bands and clippies, and one of those magical glasses cleaning cloths. I have blank notecards to entertain my kids, and make notes and small drawings, and some little toys…notice the ratio of baby to ladybug is 1:1. In my bag you will find a snack, as long as my youngest son doesn’t find it first, two kinds of spearmint gum, lip gloss, and a selection of black pens and pencils. My wallet has more cash that it used to because my favorite grocery is very euro, and cash only. It also has a variety of plastic cards…2 science museum memberships, a zoo membership, an art museum membership, a botanical garden membership, membership to 2 libraries, and a visa and health insurance card. In 2013 I am going to try to use the cards at the front of the list more than the ones at the end. In my coin purse I have coins and treasures: a baby tooth (from one of my kids, an upper bicuspid), a butterfly wing, a buffalo nickel, a small mammal vertebrate not sure the species, a fortune: “Let the sun shine on your soul”, and a little pink rhinestone…all things my kids collected and asked me to hang onto and never made it out of my purse. As I look over the contents I am aware of what is not in my bag. No diapers, my 2 year old graduated from pull ups to panties this year ending what my husband refers to as “the diaper decade”. Bittersweet.

There is something new this year, a business card that has a web address for this blog! Thanks to all of you have visited, followed, liked posts, told your friends, and especially commented. My year end report from word press came this morning. I learned lots of fun statistics from this report, including the fact that people from 29 countries look at this blog! I have decided to give a painting to my top commenter (ok, besides you mom) congratulations Diane Plum, let me know what your favorite paintings are, and I will send you one I still have!

Happy New Year to all of you! I am grateful to have you along on my journey as I search to find beauty in the world that surround us.

Orange with green leaf

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I love orange. The fruit, and the color. I have bowls of oranges big and small sitting around my house the time of year. I love they way they taste, and they smell of an orange that has just been peeled. The color delights me, and I almost always find orange in what I am painting whether it is there or not.

This little delight was in a bag of grapefruit that my dad brought to me from someone in his office. One lone orange, and it had a leaf! Delightful. Now that it is painted, I shall eat it.

“Window to my Heart”

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The father daughter day hike at Big Bend takes place at the famous rock formation called Window Rock. The lower painting is from a Christmas morning long ago. I love to imagine the phone conversations that must have taken place.

I painted these paintings from photos and memories, and I was honored to do so. The little girl from Christmas morning had a chance to grow up, and loved to hike with her Dad, but her life was cut short. As I went through the day today with my family, I thought often of the parents in these paintings, and the parents in New Town, and any parents who have had to bury a child.

Merry Christmas to all, and I wish you all a peace filled holiday and year to come.

“December Rain”

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I love rain. I love to splash in puddles in the spring, and grab my shampoo and take a rain shower in the summer. I love winter rain, even though it has a way of cutting right to your bones, and keeping you cold long past the time you get dry. It is rare to feel really cold in Texas, and that is a welcome change, and it reminds me that many Decembers ago I had my last first date on a rainy December night.

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

-Langston Hughes

Hiking into the fog

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For those of you who like geography…this is near the wettest place on earth. The fog rolled in at the end of our hike, and I enjoyed watching my dear husband hover in and out of existence as he hiked in front of me. We ended the hike barefoot, enjoying the cool dirt beneath our feet.

The fog added a splendid magic to the day.

Wading Into The Last Light

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Splendor of ended day floating and filling me,
Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past,
Inflating my throat, you divine average,
You earth and life till the last ray gleams I sing.

Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness,
Eyes of my soul seeing perfection,
Natural life of me faithfully praising things,
Corroborating forever the triumph of things.

Illustrious every one!
Illustrious what we name space, sphere of unnumber'd spirits,
Illustrious the mystery of motion in all beings, even the tiniest insect,
Illustrious the attribute of speech, the senses, the body,
Illustrious the passing light–illustrious the pale reflection on
the new moon in the western sky,
Illustrious whatever I see or hear or touch, to the last.

Good in all,
In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals,
In the annual return of the seasons,
In the hilarity of youth,
In the strength and flush of manhood,
In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,
In the superb vistas of death.

Wonderful to depart!
Wonderful to be here!
The heart, to jet the all-alike and innocent blood!
To breathe the air, how delicious!
To speak–to walk–to seize something by the hand!
To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!
To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large!
To be this incredible God I am!
To have gone forth among other Gods, these men and women I love.

Wonderful how I celebrate you and myself
How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around!
How the clouds pass silently overhead!
How the earth darts on and on! and how the sun, moon, stars, dart on and on!
How the water sports and sings! (surely it is alive!)
How the trees rise and stand up, with strong trunks, with branches
and leaves!
(Surely there is something more in each of the trees, some living soul.)

O amazement of things–even the least particle!
O spirituality of things!
O strain musical flowing through ages and continents, now reaching
me and America!
I take your strong chords, intersperse them, and cheerfully pass
them forward.

I too carol the sun, usher'd or at noon, or as now, setting,
I too throb to the brain and beauty of the earth and of all the
growths of the earth,
I too have felt the resistless call of myself.

As I steam'd down the Mississippi,
As I wander'd over the prairies,
As I have lived, as I have look'd through my windows my eyes,
As I went forth in the morning, as I beheld the light breaking in the east,
As I bathed on the beach of the Eastern Sea, and again on the beach
of the Western Sea,
As I roam'd the streets of inland Chicago, whatever streets I have roam'd,
Or cities or silent woods, or even amid the sights of war,
Wherever I have been I have charged myself with contentment and triumph.

I sing to the last the equalities modern or old,
I sing the endless finales of things,
I say Nature continues, glory continues,
I praise with electric voice,
For I do not see one imperfection in the universe,
And I do not see one cause or result lamentable at last in the universe.

O setting sun! though the time has come,
I still warble under you, if none else does, unmitigated adoration.

"Song at Sunset"
By Walt Whitman
1819-1892

“Indian Summer”

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We don’t really have Indian Summer in Texas, we have cold snaps. Nevertheless, after a long, hot summer, a few warm days feel like a gift. Even in Texas, our barefoot, sundress days are numbered. We try to make today count.

INDIAN SUMMER

Emily Dickinson

These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, –
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!

Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,

Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!

Rooster on Teal

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I came across this painting today. I didn’t like it, but I hadn’t thrown it away. So I sat down to figure out why it didn’t work. The background had to much contrast, and was perhaps the wrong color. (sorry no before picture). Originally the background had bright green and yellow (which is how the grass really looked), and had a lot of the dark paper showing through. So I took a hard teal pastel and scumbled over the entire background. Ta-da! It works now. Sometimes reality isn’t the best place to base your subjects.