Art in the Park

Just finished two paintings this evening. Here's the first. Don't know if I should call it Faith or The Clown. The quote says "Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark" by Rabindranath Tagore. I like birds. They make me happy. You know, except in real life. This is painted on roofing felt, or tarpaper. Here it is framed:

Here is the second. It's called Jawbreakers. Not sure this photo does it any favors. It is actually not misshapen like this. Acrylic on gallery wrapped canvas.

Getting ready to head out to the Goodman Museum in Tyler  to do Art in the Park tomorrow. It's going to be a gorgeous spring day and I want to sell everything (just about) I've ever made. Come see me!

Riding out April

Springtime and a girl wishes she had lots of time to do spring-y stuff but instead she is writing papers and reading boring text. Still... I have been meaning to post something for some time now. I know it's been months since I managed the last post. So, a sad little scan of a sad little sketch I did over spring break of flowers from the front of seed packets. I did get these seeds planted and I have a few sprouts. Not so many as I would like. When May comes along I'll have a little more time to fuss with flowers.

I tried very hard to get past the drawing slump over spring break as well. Here is my pep talk to myself. The inset is from a sketch I did last semester trying to find something to make into a print.

This is a sketch I did about one of my dreams, something I always say I will do but have never done before. Let me tell you what the journalling says, you know,  just in case you were at all interested in what I dream about:

I dream. A lot. I always have. I don't really understand those people who say they never dream. But I do feel sorry for them. My dreams are colorful, action-packed, odd, sometimes terrifying. Sometimes when I wake I know exactly what a dream meant - usually highlighting some insecurity or fear or preoccupation. But most times I'm stumped. I have re-occuring dreams (like flying, which I don't have much anymore) or that my teeth crumble (which also don't happen much anymore, thank goodness) and saving the baby ( I don't know who the baby is, but I am the only one who can save it).

     Saturday morning I dreamt I had been betrayed by someone I trusted. They turned into a Doberman and I started pulling pieces of broken glass out of my mouth. I actually had a chance to paint this but the sketch turned out better. Guess I'm pretty rusty.

Here is the little painting. It's on tar paper, which is my new obsession. Kind of bumpy for faces though. Sorry about the glare on the lower left side. I didn't think tar paper would catch the light like that. And no, it's not a self-portrait.