I love roosters. They remind me of traveling in Central America, and life on the farm. I like the idea of shouting out the greeting of the day. I usually choose some quiet time with coffee, but I smile at the idea of “cock a doodle dooing” at the first hint of change from black to blue.
I had fun stylizing the head….making it like a big map of blended colors; sort of an O’Keefe -enlarge and simplify.
So, top of the morning to you. Whether it be with a cup of coffee, or a “cock a doodle do”, I hope you are off to enjoy a fine new day.
Meet Mrs. Cherry. She comes from a place where magic is made every day. Four years ago my son Micah had her as his preschool teacher for the 3 year old class. One day during a family bike ride, Micah looked up and noticed that the trees met above him in a canopy. “Reminds me of Rousseau,” he said. “Who?” asked my husband. “You know, Rousseau painted trees the way Michelangelo painted Bible stories.” “Did Mommie teach you that?” “No, Mrs. Cherry did.”
People who teach are special, and people who teach preschoolers are extra special. So here is Mrs. Cherry doing what she does every day, sharing her gifts with little souls. She meets these little wonders, some timid, some bold, and teaches them both the expected and remarkable…making it all seem like play. This little soul is named Atticus. Atticus was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor this winter. When he became too sick to go to go to school, she just kept doing what she has always done – this time she just had to take the magic to him. I still have kids at New World Day School, and I shared the pain with the staff and teachers as they accompanied Atticus on his painful journey to its end this spring. Mrs. Cherry, you are one of my real life, everyday heroes, thank you. Thank you for doing what you do – and I thank God for who you are.
This is my son Noah hiking with his pop in a box canyon in Ghost Ranch, NM. It is a cool oasis of green in the harsh desert that surrounds it, and a perfect place to pass a hot afternoon (as long as you watch for storms).
I have always been a puddle person. I remember when I was 6 years old. My parents took me to Disney World, we saw the sights, watched the shows, and rode the rides. At the end of the trip they asked me what my favorite part was, “the puddles!” I answered. I had never seen so much car-free cement in my life (nor have I since). I can feel the jump, the satisfying smack as my feet hit the puddle, and then, the weird limbo as my feet displaced the water beneath me, and my feet hit the ground with a satisfying spray of water all around me. I am still a puddle jumper, and I try to remember how much I love them when my labrador-children run and leap for the shining ground, or trudge through the lowest spots after the rain.
Boots, bathing suit, and puddles. What could be better? Note: I painted another painting in this series, Long Legs Splashing. For the artists reading this blog, I used the palette of colors on the tray of my easel from the first painting, and with the colors and values picked out – the painting was really fast to paint.
This is my 5 year old daughter Miriam, and her great-grandmother, Doris. They are visiting, smoothing, folding, and hanging. Doris told us that when she was little every Monday they went to the washateria. All the neighbors were there, and there was always coffee. They packed sandwiches, and someone always made a cake. They washed, and the children played, they worked, and helped. We don’t have wash day anymore, I can drop a load of laundry in anytime…I sometimes think about all that we have lost with the gains in technology.
10″ x *’ pastel on sanded paper Daily Painting #16
I painted this with an underpainting that I washed in with denatured alcohol. For some reason the drips were hard to paint over in places, but it seemed to work ok with the rain in the finished painting.
Anyone who has traveled with children in the car knows what it is like to spend a month in a car one day. Often, road trip time feels slow – sometimes I am in the right frame of mind to savor and enjoy time passing. This was one of those days. We drove from Ghost Ranch in northern New Mexico, down to Ruidoso. The children slept, the rain fell, and we savored the drive – we watched the landscape unfold and open up around us, and we accepted the gift that was simply being present. It would take a month to paint the drive from this day, perhaps I will try.
