Lazy Boy 2014-W49

It's true that lately I've been thinking about replacing a piece of furniture in my living room with a La-Z-Boy type recliner, but I think my title was more a commentary on how I've become lax with posting my blog. Chiefly because I haven't been painting as I should. Partly busy, partly lazy. So as 2014 dwindles down, I will plan to redouble my efforts in the New Year.

In this and prior year's resolutions, I recall also having mentioned exploring abstract painting and although I don't think today's painting exactly qualifies, it is at least a nod in that direction. And it most definitely was an abstraction since there was no underdrawing... I just painted as I went. So it won't win any prizes for composition but the color is nice and in any case it's much better than a big sheet of nothing.

Hope your holiday season is off on the good foot, that you're on top of your errands and scored some good bargains. Please take a moment tomorrow to remember Pearl Harbor day and the many Americans who gave their lives in serve to our country. Peace.

Abstraction of Clivia

Second Time Around 2014-W46

I'm not sure exactly why, but I seldom will do anything to a painting after the first session. Perhaps I'm lazy. Artists who paint in Acrylic or Oil can and often do rework portions of their paintings, whether fiddling with details or wholesale paint-out and do-over. We who suffer with watercolor accept that watercolor is difficult to alter once you lay it down.

Nevertheless, I wasn't so satisfied with my painting from two weeks back and so today I tried to address some shortcomings without leaving it overwrought. You can join me as I wonder whether I succeeded. Either way, I have had enough and no doubt that this is its final form!

Essential Autumn

Natural Horror 2014-W44

Normally I would have painted my annual Paintbox of Horror entry for today, but wasn't able to prepare sufficiently.  I hope to have it ready for you next week though.

Meanwhile, we had a different sort of horror in the form of the weather that Mother Nature sent our way yesterday.  One of the coldest most blustery autumn days I've ever seen, and although I got home without too much bother, my heart was breaking for the children who watched their Halloween blow away in the wind.

Essence of Autumn

I had no trick-or-treaters and only saw a couple plucky youngsters with even pluckier parents make the effort.  Next year I think I must hand out full size candy bars to help atone.  But in happier news...

Our chummy Salon deWinchester painted today for the first time since June — although we have met socially so we didn't have to spend the entire time yakking.  Artwise I revisited a subject I painted a five or six years ago.

I was walking up Damen Avenue in October and noticed a tree that seemed to have all the summer and fall colors on a single branch.  The original painting is to the right and today I reinterpreted it as below.  I'll check tomorrow to see if that poor tree has any leaves left after yesterday!

Essential Autumn

Who's that {woman}? 2014-W42

So I took last week off and it was fun and the world kept turning so no harm no foul.  Before I continue with the blog proper, we see from the title that this ends week 42 and the year has 52 weeks which means...  that's correct, there are only 10 weeks left in 2014. Let's all be anxious together about that fun fact!

Moving on to today's subject, she is the World's Oldest C---.  She's not the world's biggest c--- or the most stupid c---.  But she has been at it since I was a lad.  Not exactly on center stage any more, but I recently heard the latest bit of nonsense from this C---.  Who by the way is Phyllis Schlafly.  My contemporaries remember her as a leading campaigner against the Equal Rights Amendment during the 1970's.  I hadn't thought about her much until she was blowing some new malarkey out of her pie hole.

In her latest crackpot theory, this old C--- claims that President Obama is deliberately letting the Ebola virus sweep into America to make it more like Africa.  I don't even know what that means.  I would first tell that C--- that her boys Georgie and Dick didn't exactly keep their hands on the wheel during a certain September, and oh by the way the body count so far is Ebola: 1, 9-11 Terrorists: 2,977.  In fairness to the withered C---, I would agree that attack did not make America more like the Middle East.

I think I may paint portraits of another c--- or two.  Fox News has a whole barnfull to choose from and I fear that one or two may soon join the US Congress.  Such is life.  Can't get through it without running into the occasional c---.  By the way, C--- is short for crazy bitch.  You knew that, right?

Crazy Bitch: Phyllis Schlafly

Leaf Litter 2014-W40

I finally took myself up on my offer to every now and then skip a week of blogging, so the continuous run of posts going back to January 2011 finally broke last Saturday. (Maybe the streak didn't go quite that far back.  I may decide to check that, or not.) Which brings us to this Saturday.

Whereas a taste of autumn might be nice, and I think we've already had a few licks on that lollipop, this morning brought us a sucker punch of winter. It is cold.  Not chilly, but rather 40 freezing degrees. If you just said "brrrr", that is correct. I planned to hit the Ravenswood Art Walk, but with the cold and drizzle I couldn't find it in me to go out and support my fellow artists. Instead, I bundled myself up, stayed indoors, and worked on some textile arts.

When suddenly it was 4:30, and I realized I hadn't eaten and nor had I made anything for the blog. But happily, I found inspiration on both counts and after some nourishment I got painting. I used a piece I made in 2008(?) to model today's abstraction on that theme. See if you can spot the seminal work in My Gallery. It's probably not the first one you see though. Keep going.

This week I also got a new phone, and nowadays that also means I got a new camera. I haven't cropped the photo to upload yet, so I don't know how I feel about the camera.  But I feel happy enough with the artwork.  It just goes to show that any idiot with a couple of brushes and 30 minutes can make something artful. In closing, I have to say that I enjoy looking at fallen leaves as a painting much more than on my lawn while I'm holding a rake handle.  Plenty of that to come, I fear.  But then again, it beats what comes next. Happy October!

Leaf Litter

Scotland Blinks 2014-W38

Though we're Americans now, a century or so ago my family were newly arrived Scottish immigrants.  Thus is why I had my Saltire sweater all set to wear yesterday. Immediately upon waking I checked my smartyphone for the outcome of the independence referendum in Scotland. Unfortunately, the nays had it and so for the next decade or two anyway it will remain united with the rest of that kingdom.  There are plenty of online post-mortems you can enjoy at your leisure so I don't feel a need to wade in there.

I did read that the Scottish referendum got a bunch of southern folks riled up about seceding from our union. Not surprising... they tried before. I gather they are tired of "Big Government". If so, I can only say one thing:

THEN QUIT YOUR MOOCHING

That's right.  If you ever wonder which states take take take more money from the federal government than they pay in taxes, find any political map and look for the color red.

You see, the turrible liberal states on the coasts and in the upper Midwest pay more into the Federal treasury than they get back. Tennessee, on the other hand, gets $1.64 back for every dollar they put in.  Money that comes, perhaps, from Massachusetts. It might surprise many Tennessee folk to learn that 41% of their state government is funded by the Feds.  I would love for them to pay that out of their pocket instead of mine.

What about Indiana? Our hardy Midwestern neighbors like to talk a good game but they get $2 back from the Federal government for every dollar they pay in and 33% of their government is funded by the Feds. Good luck going it alone.  And no survey of the South would be complete without our friends in dysfunctional Mississippi.  Lord only knows they like to talk about fiscal responsibility down there. But as we know, talk is cheap. Which is good because Mississippi is one of the poorest states in our nation... despite taking back over $3 from the Federal treasury for every dollar they pay in.

In the interest of brevity, I won't go on about Kentucky, Alaska, South Carolina, Alabama, Louisiana, Montana, and West Virginia. Except to say mooch, mooch, mooch, mooch, mooch, mooch, and mooch.  Y'all want to secede?  Scram already, and don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.

I must say, getting that off my chest was more fun than a bar full of Fightin' Palins. Meanwhile, I previously decided that regardless of the Scottish vote this week, I'd showcase my one (to date) painting that includes a Saltire. As my family motto says, Ne Obliviscaris.

Inveraray New Prison

That Darn Cat 2014-W37

I think that was the name of a Disney movie back in the groovy 70's, but the cat never got a franchise like Herbie the Love Bug. Feel free to let your mind drift away on a momentary current of nostalgia.  We'll wait...

Even though last week I gave myself the freedom to skip the occasional blog posting, I was sipping morning coffee #2 when suddenly I got motivation.  Not sure why whence or how, yet I popped up and cleared the clutter around my painting spot.  I began with a different kitty idea, and'll use it soon but it was too elaborate for today.  Instead we have a more geometrically designed cat.

Whilst painting, I felt like I was getting something along the lines of "bad cat in outer space" and so was inclined to make the background a little more cosmic.  But in the event, I decided I liked the background base coat just the way it was.  Go ahead and imagine it murkier if you like.

What I would like is some warmer weather, dang it.  We've had an early cold snap, brrrrr, and although I don't much like cats I sure wouldn't mind having a homegrown coat of fur today...  even if it meant coughing up a couple hairballs tomorrow.  Or on second thought maybe just a sweater will do.  Stay warm yourself and enjoy the latest in my series.

Bad Kitty IV

I Compel Thee Nae More 2014-W36

Our second Bloggiversary is today, more or less... this Painterly Thoughts blog having started up on 9/9/2012.  Most weeks it's a labor of love, but you see the key word there is labor.  I feel compelled to keep the streak alive and so I have for two years running. Actually somewhat longer if you count the sister blog for Salon deWinchester which had a good consecutive posts thing going until I started this one.

But now enough is enough.  Not that I have any intention of halting this blog.  Just that from time to time if I decide to skip a week, so be it.  The earth will still rotate as expected and life will go on as if nothing happened.  Now that you know the blog will still appear nearly every week at its new time, you can sigh in relief or despair as you see fit.

In the spirit of fully freeing myself from feeling compelled to paint and blog every Saturday, I decided to blog — it is Bloggiversary, for Pete's sake — but not paint.  So I fished through my first sketchbook.  We saw an entry from it in the 2013-W33 posting.  I bought it in Winnipeg, probably in 2001, and took it with me to England while I worked there in 2002.  Amateur watercolor painting seems to be more of a thing there.  I remember trundling some stuff with me on a day trip to the seaside resort of LLandudno in Wales, where among other things I did a painting sketch of the Great Orme.  It's a somewhat impressive rocky promontory with a very impressive name.  Take that, Little Orme.  Which of course is nearby.

After some dabbles in England, I occasionally would take out my art supplies and admire them.  Even more rarely, I would get them wet and do something with them. From among those early dabblings and book lessons, I chose this page from November, 2003, to share.  I thought it was pretty nifty at the time and I still like both of the ancient tiny paintings on it.

In the intervening years, I've learned a lot about how to paint, and how to be a little less miserly with the art supplies.  Living larger, I must have done a couple hundred paintings since then, culminating in Bad Kitty III last week. And though he hasn't got much patina yet, I like looking at him too.

Thanks for your patronage and please keep coming back.  I may skip a week now and then, and I don't mind if you do the same.  Peace!

Well Well Well 2014-W35

As in, how many times can you go to the well?  Three and counting for today's subject, another variation on our newest old friend, Bad Kitty.

And also, well well well...  next week marks the 2nd anniversary of the Painterly Thoughts blog.  I racked up more than 3,000 visits in that time.  I know they weren't me or my family so to my other friends and you strangers who stumbled upon it:  Thank you for your patronage.  I appreciate it.

For the last 10 weeks or so, the days have been getting shorter and in a few more weeks the nights will be longer than our shortening days.  We all know what that means.  Bears games and holidays and vortexes.  (Vortices, if you're fancy.)

As for today, we sure are having us a nice one as Labor Day weekend kicks off.  I think I will give myself some advice for a Saturday, and you are free to follow it yourself: don't make hay while the sun shines...  kick back and watch someone else do it!

Bad Kitty III

UFOs Everywhere 2014-W34

Relax, I have not gone Glenn-Beck crazy with flying saucers that are invading us because of Obamacare (better buy more gold).  I mean UnFinished Objects.  If your house is anything like my house, the place is crawling with UFOs.  I'm a fantastic starter, but when the novelty of the latest effort wears off so too does progress grind evermore to a halt.  Like yourselves, I never mean to do half a project, but let me ask you what the road to Hell is paved with...

Good intentions, that's what, in case your mother wasn't fond of that expression.  In my time I feel I well intendedly have paved a few miles on that road.  I wonder if there is a sign that says so, like the ones that tell you the local Jaycees pick up the trash along this stretch of highway 181.  (And thanks, by the way.)

One of my resolutions this year was to try seeing some of my many UFOs through to completion.  And I have done some, fewer than I would wish but more than none.  And I still have a third of the year left to build on my success to date.  Which brings us to this week's painting.

Back in June some of my art friends came by to paint en plein air back in my garden and I began painting on a horrible paper called Yupo, which for starters isn't even paper.  It's the same stuff you recycle as plastic (5).  After three minutes, I said "hell no" and ran in to grab the real deal.  But that piece of Yupo has been mocking me ever since with it's masking tape and three lousy flowerheads and nothing else.

Well, in the war between humans and plastic paper, I decided humans must win so I pulled it out to paint.  Oh it vexed me.  I'd say one panel is okay, one is not horrible, and one is horrible.  But here's the thing:  all three panels are done.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it, René Magritte.  Here is completed UFO, 8-23 edition, and I hope one day my heirs will have the good sense to throw this one into the recycling bin.

Jardin, Oui, Belle, Ma Non

Sketchy, Two Ways 2014-W33

First, because obviously these are sketches.  Today the Truman Irregulars Summer Sketch Club was at Rosehill Cemetery, and these are indeed sketches of a fine fancy monument and a sweeping lakeside willow tree.  So, see... I can draw.  I just don't like to very much although during high school and college I did more doodling than note taking. Eventually I'll circle back and find the lesson to be learned in that.

Sketchy the second way because although I could have pawned these off as from today, I actually drew them at a different cemetery and two years back.  It was the end of a hot July, the London Olympics were underway and I was eager to get back home to watch an "unauthorized" real-time feed of some swimming finals.  I so hate how NBC insists on the fake delay nonsense.

Anyhow, with nothing artful to show today except a well-mowed lawn (finally), I went with my sketchy sketchbook sketches.  But at least I'm getting the post up right in the middle of the first Dog Watch, as promised last week.  I do have a challenging subject I have been procrastinating to paint, so perhaps I will get an early start during the week and have it for you next week at our new regular time.  In the meantime, have a lovely week!

Deathstyles of the Rich and Buried

Dog Watch 2014-W32

You never know what you will learn on any given day.  I thought today's topic would center around my scheme to shift the "usual" posting time a little later in Satur's day.  Maybe 4-ish/5-ish, and that got me to wondering...  how many bells would that be in ship's time?  Because I figured "7 Bells" would make a cool title for the post.

It turns out, ship's time is a little bit interesting and not just due to the crazy bells.  The ship's crew will eat in shifts, some at 5pm and some at 6pm.  The bunch who are on duty from 4-6pm are working the "first dog watch" and they are followed by the (second but called "last") last dog watch.  Henceforth I'll be posting during the first dog watch.

Speaking of the dog watch, very oddly it so happens that today I am literally watching someone's dog AND I'd already begun a painting of said dog when I diverted to learn all about ship's time and the dog watch.  I love it when the universe stitches a common thread through such disconnected cloths.  

If all this wasn't enough to raise your eyebrows just a tad, get this...  I read this morning that our entire universe may in fact be a 

3-dimensional event on the horizon of a 4-dimensional black hole in a 4-dimensional universe.  I wonder what dogs look like there.

Shards of Olive

Whoops 2014-W31

I popped out of bed at the usual early time, and got right to work with laundry and some other chores.  I had meant to join some of my Truman art friends at their outdoor sketching club this morning but then one thing led to another and boom, I was on my way to Ikea instead.  Along the way I realized, whoops — no blog post and nothing to post in it.  So I'm afraid it's a rerun for today, and a late one at that.  I have been back from Ikea and took care of three other errands before I finally sat down to whip up this post.  It all began...

Four years ago at an event on Cape Cod, the event photographer took a great photo of me with my head in the clouds.  Art imitates life, I suppose.  It is my profile photo here, but even before the Painterly Thoughts blog came into being I painted this portrait from it about 3 years ago.  Since then, I have become the paterfamilias and if I were to paint me now I think I would have to lift a little (or lots) more black out of my hair here and there.  I still enjoy this one and I hope you like it too.

Portrait of the Artist as a Not Young Man

Lack of Focus 2014-W30

This week I had lots of thoughts, many of which I should probably keep to myself.  Thoughts about why we don't do more to stop gun violence against our children.  Thoughts about why we can't do more to rein in Israel from its campaign of murder in Gaza.
Thoughts about why we tolerate a world where the game is rigged so it's "heads, bankers win & tails, we lose" ...where the 85 richest people own as much as the poorest 3.5 Billion.

No wonder I found it hard to focus on painting this morning.  As we got to the 11th hour (literally) I decided to paint a recent subject in a different style.  And I may do that again and again as I find myself in a pinch on Saturdays to come.  So say hello to version two of our feline friend.

Bad Kitty II

Say What Now? 2014-W29

This week's post has a potpourri of possibly cryptic musings.  Let's begin.

Not many people could solve this riddle, regarding a certain streak:  5y + 6w = 1868. Don't forget, one of the y is a l*** y.  But now the streak is over.  Amen.

So, a few days back I read where scientists are investigating whether Toxoplasma Gondii protozoa (which dwells in cat droppings, as we learned in last week's post) feasibly might be repurposed into a promising new weapon in the fight against cancer.  Or maybe this news is merely a smokescreen perpetrated by cat-fancying researchers in an attempt to divert attention from my exposé of the environmental (and psychological) havoc caused by the furry terrors.  We shall see.

This week has been disorienting and exhilarating, and not just because of the shocking cat developments.   I have significantly altered my daily routines...  I'm a CTA commuter now.  Egad.  The physical fitness regimen took a big hit and my healthy eating schemes got turned topsy-turvy.  I'll have to ponder how to remedy both of those.  Fortunately, I did remember that Saturday morning is devoted to the peace of painting and then the less peaceful routine to get the blog post posted.  Artwise, I tried something experimental today.  When I have some time I'll decide if it were a success.  Hope you like it.

Experimental Waterlilies I

Bad Kitty 2014-W28

I recently read where cat owners are (allegedly) smarter than dog owners.  Before I accept that I'd like more details about how this study arrived at its conclusions, but meanwhile for being a dumdum I have so far done okay for iself.  Or is it myself?  Meanwhile if cat owners are indeed smarter, they should be wracked with guilt if only they knew the environmental havoc wreaked by their indifferent little bird-killing furballs.  Though I'm not talking about how cats adversely impact the populations of migratory songbirds.  Instead, let's go back in time...

The cat became a viable housepet option with the invention of Kitty Litter in 1947, because their terrible smells could at last be absorbed.  But at what price?  Turns out that clay kitty litter is bad for the world.  It is strip-mined dirt, kiln-dried, transported overland via combustion engines, and ultimately destined to wind up in landfills where it never biodegrades.  Never ever ever.

Year after year, four billion pounds of bentonite clay are strip-mined in the American Southwest for domestic litter boxes.  People who like to visualize things, picture this:  the Great Pyramid of Giza weighs about the same as three years worth of clay kitty litter, although owing to its lower density the kitty litter mound would be somewhat larger and undoubtedly less polyhedral.

"But I don't use clay kitty litter!" you say?  Before you mount your high horse, other types of litter are no better.  Clumping litter is strip-mined and clumps in the lungs of your cat (so that's a plus); organic litter doesn’t really biodegrade.  No congratulations if you use silica gel litter or trained your clever puss to poop in the toilet as either method requires solid waste flushing, which spreads toxoplasma gondii into the water supply.  In coastal areas this protozoan pestilence infects oysters, the beloved food of the joyful sea otter — so playful and sleek, and now dead at the hand of your cat.  Well, not exactly the hand but you get the point. Toxoplasmosis also afflicts humans (plus most warm-blooded animals) in case you wondered.

Thus the facts are clear:  your furniture shredding house cat comes at quite an environmental price.  Accept your guilt.

In marked contrast, dog waste management requires no more than small, biodegradable plastic bags and a few daily bursts of exercise on the part of their owner.  This seems better for Earth and better for you, too, but what do I know?  I'm just a less intelligent dog fancier.

Bad Kitty

Portions of this somewhat tongue-in-cheek post were excerpted/adapted from an article by Paul Ford on medium.com, where he goes on (with great humor) to attribute cats as causal to the development of Internet culture.  Is Al Gore aware of this?!  Grammar Police can relax, I have used "wreaked" correctly and "wracked" is acceptable so I elected to use it in lieu of "racked" for the alliterative effect.  Finally, Kitty Litter is probably a registered trademark of some corporation, duly acknowledged herewith alongside my continuing reluctant admission that kittens (but not cats) are indeed the most adorable creature there is.

Tree No. 613 2014-W27

Today's subject lives in the Lurie Gardens at Millennium Park, one of my favorite spots to sit and take in the city.  For a long time not many folks seemed to know about the enchanting garden that lurks on the other side of the evergreen hedges from the Cloudgate sculpture (which you probably call "the bean").

Now the cat is out of the bag and more people are ever present, but Lurie Garden was very tranquil once upon a time and on a nice bench I first painted this tree in March 2010. It was a young whippersnapper and just budding out in early spring.

I next painted the tree about 18 months later, in August 2011...  finding her a little more sturdy than my first capture, and fully leafed out in the dog days of summer.  Almost three years have passed since then.  In 2012 and 2013 I guess nothing in particular drew me downtown.  Or maybe I just didn't feel like schlepping all of my plein air regalia.  We will never know.

Happily, I had occasion this week to meet up with an old friend I haven't seen in a while.  She works nearby the Lurie Garden and so I thought I would take a few minutes to visit another acquaintance — who I now know bears a small metal tag with the number 613.  After 20 good minutes I captured a current likeness of my little tree, which isn't so little any longer.

Only time will tell when next I'll get around to painting her again.  But here, resplendent in her summer glory on July 3rd, I give you the 2014 edition of Tree No. 613.

Tree No. 613

Belle Jardin 2014-W26

I think that's French for pretty garden, but if not I hope it's nothing offensive.  I had a couple pals from the Salon deWinchester over to see some of the fixups I recently did inside my house and then enjoy a bit of artmaking in the great outdoors.  Their works are on display in the Salon deWinchester blog, a link to which appears along the left border under Awesome Links.

Meanwhile, after a false start on a horrible plastic paper called Yupo, I ran indoors for the real thing and managed to capture three flowering plants from assorted spots around my yard.  One of them looks good enough to eat... and fortunately it is quite edible! Enjoy

Vignettes from my Garden

Backup Cat 2014-W25

I meant to paint this week's artwork on Monday, but ran out of time.  My entire immediate family arrived mid-week for a visit and so my art studio had to morph back into its original identity as dining room table for the time being.

Thus I put the painting and blog post for this week on hold until next Saturday.  Instead, today's painting was done back in 2008 or 2009 during a class exercise where we painted in the style of one of our fellow students.  If you think that sounds like fun, it sure is!  Done in the style of Ken Schadt, the artwork displayed below inspired a continuing series of Cats in Hats & Wigs, which you can see in My Gallery.  While you peruse it, I will be busy enjoying some family fun and I hope you can fit some of that in too.

Kitti Longstocking

Jerry's Pond 2014-W24

In honor of Father's Day, I thought a reprise was in order for something I originally posted in 2012 on the Salon deWinchester blog.  My brother now owns the original; you can see the series it inspired in a dedicated section of My Gallery.

*  *  *  *  *

I never sang (much) for my father.  I sing badly — so like anyone, he was grateful to be spared.  But I did get a chance to paint for him.

One day my eye was drawn to a vivid scarlet dragonfly at rest on one of Dad's pond plants; the ensuing photograph inspired a series of paintings in 2009.  Later that year, I relocated to Texas to help out with Dad's cancer therapies and I brought those paintings with me.  He really liked one in particular, so I framed it for what turned out to have been his last birthday.

Ten months later, Dad passed... peacefully, in his sleep, in his own bed, right before our very first Salon.  Consequently, he never got to see any Salon art.  But I thought that on this Father's Day, wherever his spirit may be, Dad might smile to see his pond painting take the place of pride as our Classic offering.  I hope you enjoy it as he did.

Jerry's Pond

Go Ask Alice 2014-W23

I'm sure that came out of Mike and Carol Brady's mouth a million times, or it would have if they were real people and not fictional characters.  He was a workaholic and she did... well, nothing as far as we know.  The burden of keeping that blended family from a descent into chaos was doughty housekeeper and wonder woman Alice Nelson.  The maid.  Why Carol Brady needed a maid is a topic for another day.

As portrayed by Ann B. Davis, Alice took care of everything and yet never sought to take center stage.  Capable, upbeat, always nearby the next source of trouble, who wouldn't want an Alice or two in their lives and in their household?

Commenting once on her cute but ordinary looks, Ann remarked that she knew glamour girls who were starving.  Meanwhile, she had steady work and won a couple of Emmys along the way (for a pre-Alice role.  Let's not kid ourselves about the Brady Bunch plot lines!)

Since I felt Maya Angelou's passing was well lamented and her many achievements justifiably lauded, I opted instead to honor Ann Bradford Davis.  May she rest in the peace that Alice Nelson so richly deserves.

and Ann B. Davis as Alice

Tardy 2014-W22

Wow, what a super-late posting!  Another busy day in the yard, with some bursts of painting interspersed.  And then I finally finished up after an hour of lazy recovery.

If the United Kingdom still had an empire...

They don't, of course, although that news seems to have escaped the notice of many who live there. But if they did have that empire, this would be the leader of the free world.

So see, things could be worse.  Enjoy the last few minutes of May, and I hope your June gets off on a good foot.  Cheerio!

Derp

Dig it 2014-W21

I'm in a hurry today as I have a lot of toil in my landscape ahead of me.  For starters, three rosebushes to plan.  Dig dig dig.  Plant plant plant.  Ache ache ache.  Still, worth the effort once they bloom — which won't be long off from the looks of it.

Owing to the rush, I wouldn't put forward today's painting as a Best Of candidate, but good enough considering I only spent an hour or so.  I didn't think much of Secretary Geithner when he was heading the Treasury department but his assessment of today's subject was accurate and succinct, and I thought it a suitable title.  Although I hasten to add that our subject is also an adulterer and self-confessed felon.  Nice trifecta.

Dick

Old Red 2014-W20

It's nearly 20 years now since I moved into my current domicile, but that was in autumn so this is really only my 19th springtime here.  But heck, close enough.  The back yard didn't have much going for it back then.  One bright spot was a solitary red tulip near a corner of the garage.

Who planted it remains a mystery.  And not a compelling one so no effort was put into discovering who or when someone buried that bulb.  But it sure is a hardy fellow.  Year in, year out, with not much care (other than what force majeure furnishes) it has bloomed.  And so it came into flower again this year.

Seeing it cheers me, and after all these years I guess it is as good as any other old friend.  "Haven't seen you in a while..." and then we settle into familiar and comfortable old rhythms.  I leave that little corner of the yard unbothered, and if a squirrel is foolish enough to start digging around there, squirrel gets a taste of whatever is handy to throw.  Don't mess with my friend, you lousy tree rat.

As we do with our other old friends, I overlook it's flaws.  It isn't my favorite type of tulip and I don't like red flowers.  My garden is much grander nowadays and so spring means a lot of backbreaking work lies ahead. I frown at the thought.  But as I begin raking the winter detritus from his spot I think "I hope Old Red comes back" and I work more happily, confident he will soon arise as we move through the cycle once more.

Old Red

"M" is For... 2014-W19

"M" is for the many things she gave me...   thus begins an old-timey song.  Once we put them (letters) all together, they spell
M-O-T-H-E-R.  She who, I just learned, typically devoted 90 minutes of her day just to you.  That's why she deserves a bunch of flowers and a nice phone call tomorrow, if nothing else.  And you let her talk as long as she wants, dammit.

After her high school graduation my mom joined the Navy, where she met and later married my dad.  Eleven months later, an angelic baby named "me" was born and thus began her nearly 30-year run of raising and eventually evicting her three sons.

Not surprisingly, we were a handful but by 1976 our baby was almost a teenager and mom waxed nostalgic about her high school experiences as an award winning artist. She decided to explore the exciting new world of acrylic paints, and over the course of I forget how many days/weeks she patiently labored over an atmospheric landscape painting that she gifted to dad.  The unnamed landscape hung proudly in their home ever since. 

Oddly, mom never again picked up a brush (except to paint walls) and would go years between a bit of dabbling with a sketching pencil.  Nevertheless, it was her example and encouragement that ultimately led me to my own quest at artmaking.

* * * * *

Our beloved mother passed away late last year and recently she was interred in the national cemetery next to our father.  But it may surprise you to learn that she was the war veteran who earned them that privilege; dad rode in on her coattails.  We her sons of course knew about her service, but only in the last year or so did we come to realize how extraordinary it was.  

I'll tell you what, if you need someone's assistance at the VA or any military bureaucracy to cut through some red tape, find any woman on their staff and tell her your mother was a Korean War Veteran.  Without exception, they will bend over backwards to help and unabashedly will tell you how they owe so much to women like mom, who broke ground and paved they way for their careers in the military.  That is humbling and gratifying.

If you've never attended one, a military funeral is a dignified and wrenching ceremony filled with symbolism and respectfully conducted by an solemn honor guard.  We all know the opening strains of "Taps" but in no way does that prepare you for the upwelling of emotions and tears it cues in such a setting.  As the ceremony concluded, I was presented the flag by a Commander as he intoned, "on behalf of the President of the United States, the US Navy and a grateful Nation..."

* * * * *

I'm now custodian of that flag and the aforementioned landscape painting until both pass down to our family's young generation. Two boys and fortunately we have two flags.  And two of mom's artworks because in addition to the landscape we also have the high school artwork for which she won the regional award.

I have long perceived that landscape as a seminal work for me even though I did not paint it, because of what it inspired me to try. And so today as we celebrate mothers — but mostly in honor of her life, I present this fine work by Mary Ellen Campbell.  Thanks Mom, for everything.  Wish I could phone you and say so.

Untitled

Go Fish 2014-W18

Been a long time since I played that.  Got any 3's?  During one of our polar vortex weeks I alluded to another series but withheld details until now.  Though as big reveals go, I would dial your expectations way back.

Whereas the series is meant for small pieces of paper, it interested me to make a bigg'un first.   Tiny editions to follow over spring and summer, and here on 10x7 paper and without further ado, number one...

Fish Fly 0

p.s. I don't know what it's called or what it's meant to lure. Sorry!

Reddy Steady Go 2014-W17

I apologize, to the world at large and including Helen Reddy, for the horrible pun that forms today's title.  My plans took a turn this morning, so instead of painting at Salon deWinchester we are speeding west to DuPage county on some errands.

Fortunately, I had the time and wherewithal to paint up another plaid study Friday night.  Red, one of my favorites.  Compared to the others, this came together without much effort or painstaking thought.  Perhaps I was due for an easy one (or, maybe it's just not very good).  Via this series, I've discovered that regardless of how much I (dis)like each one, it's fun trying to decide which way is its "up" side.

Thanks for stopping by and come back in May...  I will be putting a little more effort into the painting for next week, promise.

Mad for Plaid V

How Green Is My Valley? 2014-W16

Nothing like a week of moderately warm temperatures (and a lot of raking) to turn grass from a brownish winter dormancy into a lush green carpet.  Suddenly, the crocuses bloomed, the daffodils are trying, and trees are budding out.  Where are the dandelions amongst the new burst of color, one wonders.

Speaking of color, compared to other mammal species we primates have better color vision.  Although ours is not as good as most birds and bugs so we shouldn't get too high and mighty.  Allegedly, the color we see "best" is green...  makes sense.  If you are a monkey swinging through trees it is probably helpful to distinguish a leafy branch from a slightly different green tree snake.  But back to spring.

Besides being warm all the way through to my bone marrow, the thing I like best about spring is all of the different shades of green we get to enjoy.   I love how the greens of spring as so vital and fresh looking.  By mid-July, they will seem tired and lackluster as we echo complaints about the heat (sometimes) and especially the gawdawful humidity.  So make the most of spring green while you can!

As for the title of this post, it's a trick question.  I live in Illinois, the 2nd flattest state in the nation, and we understand the concept of "valley" even if we have to travel to another state to see one.  But my flat rectangle of a yard is gloriously green and that inspired the primary color for the latest plaid.  Y'all come back, and Happy Easter!

Mad for Plaid IV

Lazy But 2014-W15

My painting today is really just the underpainting.  I like it as it is too, though, so I've decided to wait a spell before I alter it any.  Plus I'll hold up the painterly thoughts behind it all as well.  And it's just as well I've decided to be lazy about art today.  We've had a very nice week of weather and that spells y-a-r-d-w-o-r-k of which I have a lot left even though I diligently saw off at least half (I hope) during the week.  So I will be heading down the back stairs in T-00:45 seconds from when I click the Publish button.  If you don't enjoy the art, at least you can enjoy not doing the 90 minutes of raking and digging I'm about to undertake!

Koch's Banshee

Brave New World 2014-W14

My ancient Mac book is starting to make a funny noise, so I fear it may be nearer the end of its days.  I've had an Android tablet almost as long as it takes to have a baby, and so this was the week to go Cold MacTurkey.

Most things are going well now that I have forced myself to learn the new regimes.  Some will take time, and it was a tough ride jockeying the tablet along to make this week's blog posts here and at Salon deWinchester.  That was with the keyboard attached!  I can't imagine fingertyping it all.

Nothing too grand came off the brush today.  I'm no fan of yellow, but I admit you can't beat it for warmth.  Here I have plaidified it for you.  Next week I hope to put more efforts into the words and less effort into getting them onto the web.  Enjoy your days in the meantime.

Mad for Plaid III

Spring It ON 2014-W13

Don't get me wrong, it's been above freezing and very melty lately.  All good, even though everywhere looks wet and dirty.  (Snow cover has one thing to be said for it.)   On Sunday, Chicago expects the warmest weather in months and the citizenry stands ready.  Us who live on the lakefront cannot know beforehand whether we will participate.  The price of a chilly spring is what we exchange for our cooler summers and warmer winters.  Great deal, but now the bill comes due.  A good westerly wind can grant a reprieve though, so please cross your fingers on our behalf!

Last week while writing the blog I wasn't enthused by that day's painting.  Since then I've come to enjoy its quirky enthusiasm.  Maybe there will be a fourth or fifth in that Mrs. Black series.  And speaking of new series (as we now are) I've begun one.  Perhaps two, but first things first.  Scottish I am, and therefore mad for plaid.  Tartans, actually, but that doesn't rhyme so well.  What I painted couldn't qualify as tartan regardless, so plaid is is.  Through the plaid series I look forward to exploring color and value effects on rectilinear subdivision of plane space.  For you, I just hope they look pretty in the way that stained glass can do.  I'll leave you in suspense concerning new series two, but not for long.  There's also a p.s. with two additional fun facts on the plaid thing.  And hey, thanks for stopping by!  I appreciate it.

Mad for Plaid II

p.s.  in my introductory watercolor class way back when, the first homework assignment was to paint a plaid using both our brushes and all 7 colors on the palette.  Talk about pressure!  So that was Mad for Plaid I, and who knows where in the archives it lurks.  Fun fact 2:  in Scotland, a plaid is a piece of tartan fabric worn as a sash over the shoulder.

 

Bloody Hell 2014-W12

My mother's grandparents emigrated from Poland.  Once he'd earned his citizenship, her grandfather voted in every election and he dressed in a suit and tie to do so.  Maybe that was common then, I can't say.  But like him, I take our duty to vote seriously.  If you don't vote, keep your yap shut about your complaints concerning America.  Our state held primary elections earlier this week.  I confess I put less diligence than usual into vetting the slate of judges.  Otherwise most candidates were unopposed so it all went quickly.

At my precinct we vote in the vintage school auditorium and then stick our gigantic ballots into a cardboard sheath, whence we feed them into some big lockbox—which is motorized to suck them in—and consequently (if you are squeamish skip to the next paragraph now.  do it now.)  during the intake process I got a prolonged and exquisite, robotic paper cut.  Good gracious!

Being in a public place of some propriety, I felt obliged to chew down a litany of bad bad language.  I declined the offer of an emergency bandage, instead wrapping my pinkie in the voting receipt and beelining to the door so I could start swearing.  Only, it seems school had just gotten out and so while amidst the schoolchildren I had to keep the cork in my piehole.  One speedwalk home later, I washed out the cut and so refreshed it enough that I finally got those swears out.  Sweet relief.

Regular readers may recall I contemplated a few variations on a purple-yellow portrait (each also having some blue and orangey-browny) to explore different violets and yellows.  Today's uncooperative and underwhelming violet reminded me why it is not on my usual palette.  With the series wrapped up (I decided) let me say: thanks to Mrs. Black, and to you I say enjoy the first weekend of spring!

Mrs. Black III

Krappy Kat 2014-W11

Cat Study

Almost none of my painting exercise this morning worked as I wished, so I ended up with another cat clunker.  Not as very bad as W08 tho.  As for this effort, I'll think about other approaches and make another go.

Should that too fail, at least the bad kitty trio will be complete and thus the curse shall break!

Normally I don't invest much energy entitling works but I was all over the map with thoughts today...  pole cat ha ha, ninja imagery, ....modern variant of Cheshire cat, notable absence of cat hat.  Maybe as this isn't the painting of destiny, the name is eluding me.

Speaking of elusion, the real-life cat depicted sat on the pole longer than it planned.  Seems that the local Fire Department arrived and declined to rescue that cat, claiming they are smart animals and it could figure out how to get down; eventually the citizenry took the initiative. 

I can't contradict the Fire Dept. on this one, and in the end all was happiness.  And on the theme of happiness, you have an enjoyable and safe celebration of St Patrick's Day!

Like the Fastest Jet 2014-W10

Tempus fugit.  Time flies.

Boy, does it ever!  My baby brother turns 50 and has qualified for AARP.  I have vivid memories of the final months of my mother's pregnancy — probably down to the Kennedy assassination — and I recall my other brother and I got shuttled off to the Malloys during the "confinement".  I'm not sure we ever saw the Malloys after that.

Back then we used funny words like "confinement" instead of "delivery" and diapers were made of cloth.  Take that, Maytag.  My mother thought it would be a good idea if I learned how to change a baby so although I was a first grader and diaper pins were as big as my hand, change that baby I did.  Usually without jabbing.  There would be plenty of time later to scar the boy, as brothers are wont to do.  We fought a lot, about whatever was handy.

After as much of our current tussle as she could bear, our mother would often play the Circle of Love card.  I love you little brother, and you are fond of me.  Let us be kind to one another, as brothers ought to be.  Forced to recite this while hand in hand, I'm surprised none of us has permanent knuckle damage from the vicious vice-grip handholds underneath the muttered poem.  Good times.  I don't think we fought any more than your average three boy household.  And of course, I could pick on my little brother but you hadn't better try.

My brothers and I, we're orphans now and undeniably mature men.  Possibly by some measures we are senior citizens, if only just.  But like many, we now know that children keep you young even if paradoxically they are the sure cause of many wrinkles and much grey hair.  Still, at least some of the wrinkles formed from eyes crinkled with the laughter they have brung.

My nephews are still young and a joy to me.  I have so many stories to tell them about our familial collective experiences growing up and introduce them to ancestors and assorted crazy relatives who have gone before.  Much more than that (and despite that regrettably my brothers and I are now cast as tribal elders) I look forward to the new memories I'll forge with our youngest generation.  Fingers crossed, I have lots of time for it all!

If you are a young person reading this, I can only say:  enjoy it while it lasts.  Which isn't half as long as you think.

Meanwhile, I ended up today with a painting I think will go into the Women of a Certain Age series.  She is famous and you know her but you have to guess.  As a clue, I put one of her recipes below the picture.  Enjoy one, the other, or both!

Paula Chickengöbbler

Healthy Fruit Salad:  Empty 1# bag of Skittles in large bowl.  Pour large bottle of Ranch Dressing over, and stir.  Serves 2.

Can You Spot 10 Differences? 2014-W09

I got a couple new paints delivered—one purple, one yellow—and wanted to see them in action so I thought back two weeks to a mostly purple and yellow painting*.

And I made a variation today.  Here they are, side by side like sisters.  There are lots of differences you can identify...  it will be just like a doctor's office magazine game!

In the two weeks since I did her, I've learned the original looks greenish at night.  We'll see how the twin does there.


One difference is that I spent at least twice as much time on the painting today and that shows.   But I was on a mission, wasn't I?  Not much learned about the yellow today, but the purple handles very differently from the one I used before.  Some good some not ideal.  Fun though.  I have another yellow/purple pair in a palette I don't tap into much but I think a second variation will be forthcoming.  Thanks for stopping by!

1st Variation on Mrs. Black

*Both also use an orange and a blue; it's hard to see the "orange" hair in the original painting tho

Bad Horoscope 2014-W08

Glazed Over Cat Abstraction

After a tedious morning consumed by errands on foot, I got to painting late and even that went astray near the start.  Bad kitty.


I must have an unfavorable horoscope today — better quit while I'm not too far behind and look forward to better painting and blogging next week. 


Enjoy what's left of February!

Bright Eyes at 35 2014-W07

I can't imagine what it must be like to be famous the world over.  Fun at first I'm sure, but then it must be wearying.  Now, try being the most famous celebrity in the world for half a dozen years, those years being the Great Depression.  Oh, and you're five years old when the fame wave hits.

So with all that in mind, I have to credit Shirley Temple for surviving all that and leading a fairly normal life...  if you call being a country-club Republican turned diplomat normal.  Two times an Ambassador and the nation's first female Chief of Protocol.  A distinguished career piled on top of another distinguished career.

It should give us all hope that we are right to always believe the best is yet to come.  Though probably not in the form of today's painting I think.

It depicts Shirley as merely Mrs. Black — before her first ambassadorial appointment; gone are the golden ringlets, replaced by an ultra-60's pre-groovy look.  For contrast, you can search online for a Salvador Dali work that features Ambassador Black from her days aboard the Good Ship Lollipop.  And to save you wondering, Bright Eyes is the name of the film that shot her to fame in 1934.

At the Time, Mrs. Black

Survival 2014-W06

Normally when March starts coming into view, I'll feel I've gotten through another winter.  This year, I will feel I have survived this winter, which has been terrible and seems to have a hostile personality.  Probably we were overdue to have a bad winter so my hope is that our account is paid back in full and we won't see this kind of relentless nonsense for a spell of many years.

No connection meant to St. Valentine's Day by today's painting, but I hope you have a nice one!

Je Vois la Vie en Rose

Hold Your Horses 2014-W05

Let's open up with:  Happy Chinese New Year!  Evidently this begins the Year of the Horse.  I'm not sure what qualities this bestows on babies born under its auspices, but good luck to them all.

Speaking of horses, I'm not sure if young girls of today are fascinated by/obsessed with horses as they were in my youth.  I have to admit, I never got that... not that there's anything wrong with it.  I just found it puzzling, probably like the girls of my time scratched their heads about the allure of little plastic soldiers and cap guns.  But I'm sure we all agreed that Slinky did not deliver on its promises.

Our weathermen promised us a few inches of snow overnight and sadly, so it came to pass.  This inclement weather forced us to cancel our painting salon today, so I whipped up a quick (and timely) study of a newborn horse in lieu of the painting I had planned.  And when I logged in to write up today's posting, I saw my blog had its 2,500th viewing earlier today, so thanks for your patronage and a happy horse year to you all!

Baby Clyde

The Party is Over 2014-W04

The holidays and other winterly celebrations are mostly behind me now — which means getting back to my workouts and making resolutions this week, to name two necessary evils.  Why not go out with a bang?, I thought to myself...  so I had a huge brunch/breakfast of duck sausage, eggs and red hash.  Mmmm mmm bad.  But good.  And there's pizza yet to come.

I started today's painting before (the first) gorging, and finished up in the afternoon before heading out to an art show opening.  The show is at the Ten Cat bar and billiard hall and features the work of friend & fellow artist Ken Schadt.  If you live in Chicago, the venue is just south of Irving Park Rd on Ashland. Check it out if you can.  Maybe I might have my (first ever) show there soon; stay tuned as that story develops.

So, instead of enjoying my usual Saturday afternoon nap, here's what I did instead.  Hope you enjoy it enough to validate my choice!

Moonweed

Clunkers 2014-W03

After reflection, I decided that in order to restore balance after the lashings of self-praise in my "best of" posting, I should probably own up to the worst of 2013.  The runner up for the dubious honor is this color study (to the right) for the sketch that I posted last week. 

But the clear winner appears below; it resulted from a directed exercise from a propuesta in Acuarela Creativa.  Thus, I can duck the blame for the original concept.  Nevertheless, when it comes to the resulting "painting" I can't find much to recommend it.



I did not enjoy one iota of its making, save for one of the white daisies.  Undeterred, I later made a second exploration of wet-in-wet poppies (Pavement Poppies in Ravenswood, at left), the result of which was also wanting... although it looks much better when when displayed near 2013's clunker of the year.

Terrible as they may be, these painting help me remember a useful motto:  keep up the bad work.  Eventually, something good will come of it.

Field Poppies

The Vortex 2014-W02

What a week or so this has been.  I flew back from the east coast the afternoon of New Year's Eve and landed during the beginning of a snow storm that seemed to last continually until sunset on January 5th.  That day alone saw us get close to a foot of snow, followed by the plunging temperatures of the infamous Polar Vortex.

Our all time low in Chicago (not windchill but actual low temperature) is I think -25, which occurred on a Saturday night in January 1985 as I recall.  I was out and about in that, and probably not entirely sober.  So on Monday morning, I pulled on several layers of clothing and ventured out for a walk around the block in the sunny -16 air just to say I had been out in it.  It was beyond refreshing.  Needless to say, I completed said walk as efficiently and promptly as I ever have done, and once back inside I remained so for the next 48 hours.

Today is rainy and in the mid-30's.  While walking to the corner for some milk, I felt odd...  as if I were bundled up in June.  Such is the difference that 50 degrees makes.  I suppose now we are concerned about flash flooding and everything is soggy, but as I like to observe:  no one has to shovel rain!

As I said previously, I'm not fond of cats, domestic on up, but I do have a certain admiration for cheetahs and jaguars.   I meant to paint today's offering last month but I neglected to bring the reference photo to Salon (and besides there was a lot of gab that day) so I made a color study from my recollections and now today another, better sketch.  And now I can move on.

Cheetah Study II

SOLVED! Plus, "And the Other 335?" 2014-W01

A + Barren + (Coat - Cot) + Hat

First, I am happy to report that a certain rebus puzzle that has been the topic of several past blog postings is finally solved.  So SPOILER ALERT...  the answer now appears as the title of the image in my gallery and to the right.

The prize for solving was a stuffed bear wearing a hat.  "A bear in a hat".  Get it?  An awesome Chicago Bears hat, even though the Bears did not finish out the season in an awesome way.  Oh well.

With that out of the way, we can get to the posting I had planned for December 14th but which painting I only just finished today.  So pretend you're still caught up in the excitement of Christmas instead of the hangover that is early January while you read on...

Now that over-the-top holiday themed sweaters are a thing, I first have to comment that intentionally gaudy renderings of same simply cannot be appreciated in the same way as the sincere, accidentally vulgar creations that started the whole ball rolling.  Get real or get out.  And with that said...

Move over garish sweaters, there's a new sheriff in town!  Christmas tattoos.  Talk about commitment, I thought to myself while I read an article that presented a glittering array of lurid noëlesque body art.  I suppose by their very nature tattoos are not meant to be tame.  Still, outside of the roughly 30 days from Thanksgiving to Christmas, why would you want such a tattoo?  They must look awfully odd with sweaty dew causing them to glisten in the dog days of summer.

They sure are compelling images though.  Without further ado, may I present this anonymous bicep adorned with a charming Yoda-Santa mashup.  I'm sure many of you who saw last week's post thought it was going to be the Grinch.  Gotcha.  On the off chance that Fox News personality Megyn Kelly reads my blog (hah) she will be comforted to see that, although this Santa is green, at least it's on the arm of a white person.  Please enjoy the painting with one eye as you roll the other eye (for whatever reason pleases you)!

The Force of Christmas Spirit Tattoo Always With You Be