Artist Rides, Part 2

"Julia"

36X48

oil

Have you ever had a friend for whom everything just falls into place? It goes something like this...this friend (we'll say it's a he, but it could just as easily be a she) decides to go to the mall. But the mall is very crowded - let's make it the Saturday before Valentine's Day. He casually drives up and down a few rows - all filled with cars. But suddenly he spots a car pulling out of a premier parking spot right in front of the entrance to the mall and proceeds to jauntily pull into the spot to which he feels fully entitled. After all...things fall into place nicely for him. Or her.

Life is not like that for me. Nothing is ever simple. My first experience attending an Artist Ride (the really great one in South Dakota) began with a plane change in Salt Lake City, in which I had a VERY short time in which to change planes. I should add here that my then-13-year-old daughter was reluctantly (and somewhat angrily) traveling with me. Suffice it to say, we barely made our connection to a small commuter plane, which landed in Rapid City, SD very late at night. (I really hate commuter planes...)

I rented a car and we proceeded to Wall, where I had booked us into a bed and breakfast just outside town. I will spare you the details of this sad little journey to the ends of the world, and just condense it into a simple sentence. We wandered around the in the middle of nowhere for at least an hour or more looking for that wretched bed and breakfast. I ultimately had to walk into a bar and ask for directions. As I said...nothing is ever simple. Oh...and I ran into a ditch at one point during this excursion. I realize that was more than one sentence. But I DID condense it. Trust me.

I'm comforted by the fact that many of you are saying to yourselves, "Yeah...that would happen to me". Others might be thinking, "She doesn't seem to plan well". I guess a case could be made for the latter.

Oh, yes...the Artist Ride. We drove even farther out into the middle of nowhere the next morning. I drove over the last hill and as we drove over the top...what a sight to behold. Tepees. Native Americans riding around on horseback. Cavalry. Mountain Men. All in full, authentic-looking costumes. It was awesome. Stupendous. And possibly even worth the fiasco of the previous night. I felt like Paula Deen touring a Land 'O Lakes butter factory. Or Kim Kardashian anyplace where photographers are gathered. You get the idea...literally hundreds of great photo references to be had.

To be continued next time...

Artist Rides

"Rebecca"

36X48

oil

This is really an oldie...currently in the Walking Horse Gallery in Ben Wheeler, TX. I always want to call this gallery the "Whispering Horse", though that doesn't really make sense. Horses don't whisper. Though I hear their trainers sometimes do...

So I did this painting at the Celebration of Fine Art in Scottsdale, AZ...can't say I remember the year. Probably 2000 or 2001. The model - conveniently named Rebecca - is a professional artist's model who has all her own costumes, etc. Until I moved to Arizona, I had no idea where western artists got their photo references - especially Native Americans and cowboys. 

I've mentioned before that I went out to Arizona in 1999 (going through a divorce) for a visit and bought a house. I'm aware that this was spontaneous in the extreme. Don't judge me. During that same visit, I was introduced to a western artist who assured me that there is life after divorce...having been through 5 (or maybe it was 6) divorces herself. Anyway...she invited me to a weekly Artists' Breakfast. I attended regularly until I moved back to Texas. It was at the breakfast that my fellow (mostly western) artists told me about Artist Rides.

They informed me that one of the best rides is in South Dakota, and that sometimes there is a waiting list of artists. Therefore, they said, I must contact the organizer and try to get in asap. Which I did, dropping a few western artists' names in the process, hoping that it might give me an inside advantage. Apparently this ploy worked, because I got in. Or maybe it was an off year and they would have taken anyone. It's hard to say.

I think that I will separate this post into several consecutive posts, in that...well, there's a lot to tell. And I don't want to tax my readers - especially those who read multiple blogs every day (you know who you are). Suffice it to say...my first Artist Ride enlightened me to a whole new world. FYI...I will end Part 1 of this post by informing you that there is actually no riding of horses on the part of the artists. So I have no idea why they call them Artist Rides. To be continued...

Knowing Too Well

"Jordan"

9X12

charcoal

A while back, my daughter's boyfriend took us both out for lunch. After several minutes of repartee between the two of us concerning whether or not to share something and, if so - what would we both enjoy equally? (we are accustomed to this, in that we have an extended history of - out of financial necessity - sharing restaurant food). He seemed amused and mumbled,  "You two are funny". To which I replied, "Oh...you have no idea".

When I moved to Arizona to pursue my art (as well as to burn marital bridges), it was just the two of us. My son was in college by then, but my daughter was still in junior high. So we spent a lot of time together. A LOT of time. Just the two of us. We have a tendency to know one another's thoughts and moods almost too well.

An example...one day - after she had moved out on her own - I decided to call her to test out this "knowing one another too well" theory. When she answered the phone, I dispensed with the usually small talk and said (having just watched "City of Angels"), "I wish an angel would give up his powers to be with me..."  With not a hint of confusion in her tone, she said, "I know...but it wouldn't work out for you".

My daughter is the subject of the above charcoal portrait study. I had never really done much with charcoal and decided to experiment with it. And at the time, I was looking for a way to offer some of my artwork at a lower price point.

Back to the original subject...I actually wrote a book a few years ago. It is basically about the life of a working artist (I write about myself...but other artists as well). I would like to publish it as an ebook, and sell it on this blog, but so far I'm too techno-challenged to actually do it. Some of you techno-geeks out there? Any advice?

Not Cool

"Cape Neddick"

12X9

oil

Today has been unusually busy for me, starting with my morning walk at 6-something. Now that summer is upon us, early morning is the only time of day that one can possibly bear walking. I can't say that I really enjoy walking, but I do it. I guess for my health. Walking and sweating...yechhh. I'm waiting for the day that some study concludes that walking is not healthy after all. Then I will hang up my sneakers. But I digress...

This is another Maine painting, which (I think) has already been sold. It looks so nice and cool there. Of course, most places are cooler than Texas. That can be interpreted for both temperature and trendiness. It's okay...I can say unflattering things about Texas because I'm a native.

I will admit that there are less cool places than Texas. Arizona for one. I lived in the Phoenix area for about ten years. Summers there are brutal. One doesn't go outside unless one absolutely has to. And if one must walk...one does it at a mall. Discretion has overtaken me...so I won't comment on the relative coolness of Arizona in regard to the other connotation of the word. I don't want to be YELLED AT IN CAPS from my Arizona friends/followers. As I've said before...I am a delicate flower.

 

I'm done with my walking for today. I've driven to the big city of Tyler to run errands today. I've sold a small painting today. I've had coffee with friends today. I'm going to kick back and relax for the remainder of this day in this decidedly not-cool place. I hope the same for you, my friends...there are worse things than not being cool. And I should know.

Monday Musings

"Scott"

9X12

oil

Redheads are fun to paint. And, yes, I did exaggerate the red somewhat. But that's okay...I have a license to do such things. An artistic license. Oh, it's nothing I take pride in. Anyone can have one. Really. ANYONE.

In fact, one of my pet peeves (that should probably be the name of this blog..."Pet Peeves") is that in my two particular areas of skill - music and art - there really isn't a license. No bar to pass. Anyone can buy a guitar, learn four chords, learn a couple of songs, and say with great conviction, "Yes...I'm a musician". In the same vein, anyone can buy paints, brushes, and canvases, take a few lessons - or not - and say, "I'm an artist". I think it's one of the reasons that people tend to not take artists seriously. And I'm no different, really. Every time I do an art show, there are at least a few people who say, "Oh...my mom is an artist" or words to that effect. And I usually imagine a gray-haired little lady painting bluebonnets very badly.

At the risk of offending a few people, I'll continue on my roll. Not just anyone can practice law. There's standard that must be met...a bar to pass. I'm sure some of you are thinking that the standard for being a lawyer is woefully low, but that's not the point. There are requirements that must be met.

I can't just declare myself a therapist. Nor can I prescribe medicine (if I could, I'd prescribe a few good meds for myself). And I can't arrest anyone. That one really blows. I've met quite a few people I'd like to arrest.

I usually don't know where these posts are going to go. This one went in an unexpected direction. All because of the term "artistic license". Sometimes it's hard to be me.

Without going into too much detail about the model for this study, I will say that he's related to me by marriage, and that he's a vet. I always say that, in regard to finding models, I exploit my family whenever possible. They usually work really cheap. Or cheaply. (For the grammar nazis among you)

I've noticed that while quite a few people read these posts from time to time, very few leave comments. Which is okay. But as always...feel free to make your own observations and comments. I will publish them. Unless I don't like them. Kidding. Mostly.

Shoes Dropping

"Untitled"

oil

11X14

You know the expression "waiting for the other shoe to drop"? I've had a shoe-dropping kind of day. Everything's been going along quite well as of late. Until today. I received a text from my property manager (I have a house in AZ with a renter in place) informing me that the A/C has gone out.

I will throw in here that I'm notorious for borrowing trouble. I'm already preparing for a worst-case scenario. So...hopefully it will not be such a big deal, but I'm inclined to imagine the worst. To elaborate a little bit about this house...

In 1999, in the midst of going through a divorce, I visited AZ and while there I bought a house. I know. Don't ever tell me I'm not ever spontaneous. Anyway, I lived there for 10 years before coming back - somewhat reluctantly - to Texas. Since then I have had three different renters in place. Between the three of them, they have (1) changed the locks on the doors without consulting me (2) been perpetually late paying their rent (3) used my house as a daycare - also without consulting me (4)...well, you get the general idea. 

I really don't enjoy being a landlord. It's one of the many things for which I'm not well-equipped. As I write this, I'm waiting to hear from my long-suffering property manager as to what we're dealing with. Any and all advice is welcome, FYI. 

 

About the above painting...it's actually an experiment I tried last year in which I took a photo from a movie still to use as a photo reference - just for grins (it was a slow week). So this is actually a photo from the movie "Bugsy". And now you know, if you were interested in the first place. If you weren't...oh, well.

 

Fingers crossed...when the shoe drops, it won't make too much noise.

"New Castle Lighthouse"

11X14

oil

This post will be short and sweet. Or maybe just short. I'm off in a little while to the big city of Ben Wheeler to deliver several paintings, including the one above, to be delivered to Maine. In case you're unfamiliar with Ben Wheeler...I'm not sure it even qualifies as a small town. To say that Ben Wheeler is a big city is akin to saying that Kim Kardashian is an intensely private and unassuming person.

I wish that I could be in Maine right now. It's only June and the temperature is in the upper 90s. As I've already mentioned...I do not enjoy sweating. No plein air painting for a while. Unless I do it at 2 a.m. I suppose I'll have to resort to what I think of as "pretend plein air painting", which entails standing at the easel in the air-conditioned comfort of my studio, imagining that I'm outdoors. It doesn't really work very well. I never actually lose sight of the fact that I am, in fact, standing in my studio.

Kim Kardashian...now I'm thinking about her. It's like having "the song that never ends" or "B-I-N-G-O" stuck in your head. And now I have both songs AND Kim Kardashian stuck in my head. It's hard to be me.

Three In A Row

"Untitled"

9X12

oil

This must be a record for me...three posts in three days. I just finished (or almost finished...I haven't decided yet) this one, so I haven't thought of a title yet. All suggestions are welcome.

I feel like celebrating tonight. Not that I finished two paintings in less than a week, though that is true and I'm glad of it. No. I've been trying to finished "The Bully Pulpit" by Doris Kearns Goodwin for what has felt like an eternity. Not that I haven't thoroughly enjoyed it. I just haven't have the large blocks of time needed in order to finish it in a timely manner. I finished it today and was pleased to find that I only owed a 25cent fine for turning it in late. 

I took the opportunity to get rid of 25 pennies that have been taking up way too much space in my coin purse for far too long...so all the more reason to celebrate the hard-fought battle to learn everything I ever wanted to know (and more) about Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft. 

When I use the word "celebrate", it probably doesn't hold as much meaning as you might think. For me it means that I'll have real salad dressing instead of low fat. Or maybe I'll really splurge and have extra Parmesan AND full fat salad dressing. And I'm pretty sure there's a glass of Chardonnay with my name on it. So...good night. And celebrate when you can, for both real and imagined accomplishments.

Revelations...

"Little Diva 1"

9X12

oil

Before I write on the topic posted, I will say a few words about the above painting. It's of my granddaughter Madeleine from several years ago. I believe that she has abandoned ballet, though she has not abandoned being a diva. Don't get me wrong...she's a very well-behaved child. But she is a person of drama. I wonder where she gets that?

About my topic "revelations"...I've come to a few conclusions about myself. I think it's important to know oneself in order to find one's way. For example, I know that I could never have been an EMT. Or a nurse. Or a nurse's aide. I can't handle gore, grief, or bad odors. Even though I would loved to have been a dancer and bitterly resented the fact that I was saddled with piano lessons rather than ballet, I have long since realized that I could never have been a dancer. I don't have the right proportions. Also I don't enjoy pain.

I have come to the conclusion that I will never really be computer literate. My brain simply objects too much. I will never climb Mount Everest, nor will I ever run the Boston Marathon. I'm too accident-prone. And I like being comfortable. Which brings me to my latest revelation...

I actually realize now that my inspiration for this topic came about as a result of a very simple conclusion. I have been in my 80 degree+ studio trying to paint. I never realized before today just how much I hate to sweat. As previously stated, I like to be comfortable. I really, really do. 

Therefore, I gave up on painting for today, and decided to write a post instead. Please feel free to share your own revelations about yourself.

Getting Back On Track

As the title of this post implies...I'm trying to get back on track with blogging, as well as painting. Anyone who has ever been in the position of managing an elderly parent will understand the emotional and logistical complications of trying to keep up. Or maybe it's a convenient excuse. Or maybe a little of both. Enough of this topic...

I was contacted a few days ago by one of my favorite collectors (you know who you are), telling me that a gallery in Maine wants me to send them more paintings. I'm trying to think of the name of the gallery. Van something...Van Dyke? Van Winkle? Van Johnson?...no. That's not right. Oh, that's right...Van Ward. They want paintings of lighthouses, etc. from that area. Unfortunately, I only have a few photos from that area.  Anyone out there have any good photos of landscapes, seascapes, lighthouses, etc. from Maine?

As a topic of possible interest, having nothing to do with painting, blogging, or old people in nursing homes. Recently I was a temporary refugee from my home, when a fertilizer storage facility caught fire a couple of short blocks from my house/studio. We were all evacuated and couldn't return until late the next afternoon. Very exciting. Very annoying. But I won't complain, since the facility could have blown up, and I would probably not be writing this right now. I would be vapor, I suppose.

I guess this ends my vacation from painting. At least for a while. Back on track. Maybe. Definitely. Hopefully. (please feel free to comment...)