Even though it has been just six years, "9.11" seems like a memory from long ago. As fast as time seems to go for me, I'm not surprised that it feels like ancient history, and just like yesterday at the same time. The morning that the horrible thing took place, I was sitting in bed watching the morning news. When the show switched to the live feed, I was aware that it was happening in real time, however, the physical reaction I was experiencing felt like the same one I had on the afternoon that President Kennedy was shot.
I felt sick, nauseous, light-headed, and frozen in place. All the old, past, horrors I had witnessed on television came flooding back. First, the assassinations - Jack and Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King, the attempt on Reagan, movies I had seen where Gandhi was shot, the death of Princess Diana - memories that haven't faded. Then the memories of violence - the Oklahoma bombing, the first World Trade Center attack, clinic bombings, racial struggles with water cannons and tear gas, police with clubs and guns watching their cruisers burn, looting and fires, photos of concentration camps, the silence and smells at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial in Israel - all events that I had seen on TV, in photos, and some, places I had been.
Natural disasters bring dark days too. I've never felt an earthquake, but I have seen the destruction repeated in newscasts and documentaries. The 1964 Alaska Earthquake, the "Good Friday Quake," occurred the day after my son was born. In 1989, the Cypress Freeway collapse from the Loma Prieta Quake crushed 42 people. On a morning in 1994, I was awakened by news reports of a massive earthquake in California, the Northridge Quake. The stations were showing scenes of the damage and I saw the pinnacle of my denomination's "Mother Church" lying on its side in the street at a good distance from the building. The Sumatra quake and tsunami will be a part of my grand children's memories of dark days. This morning the news reports were remembering Hurricane Katrina and giving updates on the Mississippi bridge collapse and the lost miners.
Dark days are a part of every one's lives. As children it may when we fail a test in school, suffer a disappointment that hurts our feelings, when a best friend moves away, our pet dies, or we lose a family member. When we are grown, those times may alter the course of our lives and bring changes that we weren't ready to face. When our parents die, we understand what it means to be truly alone. If serious illness forces us to revise our "life plan," career choices, or how we spend what time we have left, it may seem that there are only dark days ahead of us.
The 6th anniversary of "9.11" is two weeks away. Those who lost loved ones in the attacks will never forget that day and neither will we. The lines in my sketch both separate, and join, us to the events of "9.11," as the towers did that day. Once again on the anniversary, our tears will join with the souls of those who were lost. (Pen, ink and watercolor, large watercolor Moleskine)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Beautiful Baby Ben - One More Time
This is the first color sketch that I did of Ben and I think I will draw sketches of him many, many times. He is my "buddy" who lies happily on my left hip when I am in the chair and quietly on my left side on the rare occasions that he is allowed in the bed.
Ben was an unexpected acquisition. Two of our dogs had been accidentally killed one evening when they escaped from the yard. I still don't understand how they managed to get out of all the careful security that I added to the gate, but they did. One of the dogs was the companion of Alice, my first doxie. She was grief stricken without her best friend and the other household pets were well aware of the two missing spirits. Alice got more and more sad and I became more and more depressed.
I was surrounded by pets that were aging and starting to have health problems. I was struggling with my own problems with aging and significant changes in my health status. In addition, I had recently left my career due to circumstances beyond my control and was unsure of how I was going to add any substantial income to our home. My mother, as well as a dear friend of many years died around the same time. And, to add to my distress, my long-term partner decided on a life change that ended our relationship. It was a difficult few years.
My friends and family thought that the addition of some "new life" might help me maintain my mental health and more successfully survive the recent losses. Thus, Benjamin came into my life. His mother's name was "Fanci" and he was the only puppy in the litter. I fell in love immediately! Alice, however, was not as pleased with his addition to the household. After all, she was twelve years old and he was nine weeks old! Alice was tolerant of Ben's attempts to play but found his needle-sharp, puppy-teeth to be an irritation to her ears, lips, feet and tail. Through it all, she contained her irritation and good-naturedly played with him.
It quickly became apparent that Alice's energy level was not up to Ben's standards. What to do? Why, get another puppy so Ben can have a friend! It didn't take us long to find Yeshe, a black and tan doxie, just a bit younger than Ben. Yeshe was the perfect solution - Ben had a friend to play with, and Alice, now relieved from her responsibility of being the "big sister," could watch from a distance while the little boys chewed one another's ears and left her to rest.
Ben and Yeshe are three years old now, Alice's muzzle is white, she's a bit deaf, can't see as well, and walks with some difficulty. Two of my cats have died in the interim, and Mittens, whose big eyes you can see in the upper right of this page, is getting frail. She has passed her 16th birthday and the signs and symptoms indicate say that she probably won't see her 17th. After Alice and Mittens leave us, we will learn to manage without them. All of us will mourn but we will adjust to the space that their spirits will leave. Their urns will join those of P.J., Miss Ninny, Crow, Gertie, Maxx, and Dolly.
Over time, I will post sketches of the other animals who live with us. A little bit of Yeshe has already appeared in the drawings of Ben. Pumpkin (feline) and Christy (my avian companion), are more difficult to draw but I will do my best to share their shapes and their spirits. Even though they are older than "the boys," I think they will be around long enough for me to get a lot of practice in.
Friday, August 24, 2007
EDM #2 - Draw a Lamp
A Santa Fe Lamp In late March, four of us headed off to Santa Fe, NM for a vacation and celebration of the 40th birthday of the youngest of the four. The location and the B and B, were her choice of where to spend such a significant day. I can say, without reservation, that it was the most beautiful place I have ever been.
The vistas of the southwest are so different from anything else I have experienced. The landscape is wide open and the sky is clear and huge! The light has a penetrating quality to it and is either warm, or cold, depending on the moment.
Most EDM folks will understand when I say that I may have taken a few too many art supplies with me. After all, what's another suitcase, even if it costs $25.00 extra because it is overweight? I was certain that I would have hours and hours to sketch, paint, and journal on this trip. Plein air! My dream come true! This was my chance! I wasn't in charge of anything on this trip other than my own relaxation. A week of unfamiliar scenery, museums, galleries, great meals, and lots of shopping was before me. I was ready to set up shop wherever, and whenever possible, and record the beauty of the area. The lamp pictured here is the extent of my art work for the whole trip. It wasn't even air unless you consider a community room with the door open to be air! What I hadn't counted on was the difficulty of breathing at that altitude. Walking around, looking at the scenery, and trying to take it all in was about all I could do. Really and truly, that was sufficient! The snow showers that greeted us on our arrival were an added thrill for me. I have always loved snow and spent hours and hours out in it as a child. I still love the beautiful stuff but it seems so much colder than it did 50 years ago!
Our departure was also accompanied by snow! Only this time, it was heavy enough for us to be concerned about our air travel. We were sweeping snow off of the car in Santa Fe and there wasn't a flake to be seen at the airport in Albuquerque. It was still springtime there!
The vistas of the southwest are so different from anything else I have experienced. The landscape is wide open and the sky is clear and huge! The light has a penetrating quality to it and is either warm, or cold, depending on the moment.
Most EDM folks will understand when I say that I may have taken a few too many art supplies with me. After all, what's another suitcase, even if it costs $25.00 extra because it is overweight? I was certain that I would have hours and hours to sketch, paint, and journal on this trip. Plein air! My dream come true! This was my chance! I wasn't in charge of anything on this trip other than my own relaxation. A week of unfamiliar scenery, museums, galleries, great meals, and lots of shopping was before me. I was ready to set up shop wherever, and whenever possible, and record the beauty of the area. The lamp pictured here is the extent of my art work for the whole trip. It wasn't even air unless you consider a community room with the door open to be air! What I hadn't counted on was the difficulty of breathing at that altitude. Walking around, looking at the scenery, and trying to take it all in was about all I could do. Really and truly, that was sufficient! The snow showers that greeted us on our arrival were an added thrill for me. I have always loved snow and spent hours and hours out in it as a child. I still love the beautiful stuff but it seems so much colder than it did 50 years ago!
Our departure was also accompanied by snow! Only this time, it was heavy enough for us to be concerned about our air travel. We were sweeping snow off of the car in Santa Fe and there wasn't a flake to be seen at the airport in Albuquerque. It was still springtime there!
This "somewhat southwest" sketch started out as a doodle on a page in my journal. It is an image from my mind and the colors are personal preference, nothing more. I started it after the vacation and have worked on it a few times since then. I added color to it this week with the intention of posting it here. The "Community Room Lamp" and this "Somewhat Southwest Scene" are my Santa Fe Series!!!! (chuckle)
Such a delightful vacation warrants many more sketches! We took some photographs worthy of sketching so I have more material to draw from (that's a pun!) for future sketching. I think a sketch of something near Ghost Ranch or of Georgia O'Keeffe's beloved red and gold cliffs would make a good addition to my memories of this trip.
Both sketches were done in my regular journal, with plain paper refills from. Done first in pencil, inked, and later color added with Derwent pencils, and brushed with water to blend.
Such a delightful vacation warrants many more sketches! We took some photographs worthy of sketching so I have more material to draw from (that's a pun!) for future sketching. I think a sketch of something near Ghost Ranch or of Georgia O'Keeffe's beloved red and gold cliffs would make a good addition to my memories of this trip.
Both sketches were done in my regular journal, with plain paper refills from. Done first in pencil, inked, and later color added with Derwent pencils, and brushed with water to blend.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
EDM #10 - Draw Your Hand
Is this really MY hand? Each time I look at this sketch, my impression is that it belongs to someone else. Who? But, it really is my left hand, lying in my lap. The way that the light hit it at the time, the redness of my knuckles and the bumps on my fingers looked unusually pronounced.
It may seem odd, but I like the bumps on the last joints on my fingers. I know what they are - arthritis - a consequence of aging and a manifestation that my body is wearing out in different places. Perhaps others wouldn't find the idea of one's body wearing out a pleasant thought, but I don't find it upsetting at all. I think that is because older people have always been part of my life.
As a child, I lived with my grandparents and my great-grandmother. My aunts were great-aunts and the Wednesday Canasta games were played by women in their 50's, 60's and 70's. The people around me were considerably older than my parents would have been if I had lived with them. My great-aunt was the person who took me on the train to Baltimore to shop for winter coats. It was her gnarled hands that knitted the Christmas stocking that my grandson now uses.
When I was ill with a variety of childhood diseases that seemed to come one after the other, it was my great grandmother who took care of me. Her hands were narrow with prominent veins showing through the thin, pale skin. I remember that I loved to touch her hands, look at the lines on her palms, and wonder what all the lines meant. I worried that her "life-line" was fractured at several places - I depended on her to be there when I needed her, when I wanted answers to questions about the past - and the future. I was fearful that any event would shorten her life and separate us. As a little girl, I hoped that one day my hands would look like Nanny's.
The sketch I have done of my hand is far from perfect, or even accurate. The joint from my hand to the first knuckle is too long and changes the proportion of the sketch. I didn't put in any background to place my hand somewhere in space. I didn't take time to make the bright orange "Medic Alert" bracelet rest on my wrist, instead it looks like more of an orange handcuff added as an afterthought. It doesn't look much like Nanny's hand, or my grandmother's hand. Rather, it reminds me of someone else's hand, someone closer - my mother.
I recall often looking at her hands during the last few years of her life. They didn't show many of the usual signs of age even in her late 70's. Yes, the skin was thinner, the veins a bit more prominent, the lines on her palms a little deeper - and there was even a bump or two on some of her fingers.
Is that really MY hand, my left hand? Maybe. I'm not certain...could it be my mother's?
(This sketch is in a 5"x8" Moleskine notebook, done in pencil with a touch of watercolor paint.)
It may seem odd, but I like the bumps on the last joints on my fingers. I know what they are - arthritis - a consequence of aging and a manifestation that my body is wearing out in different places. Perhaps others wouldn't find the idea of one's body wearing out a pleasant thought, but I don't find it upsetting at all. I think that is because older people have always been part of my life.
As a child, I lived with my grandparents and my great-grandmother. My aunts were great-aunts and the Wednesday Canasta games were played by women in their 50's, 60's and 70's. The people around me were considerably older than my parents would have been if I had lived with them. My great-aunt was the person who took me on the train to Baltimore to shop for winter coats. It was her gnarled hands that knitted the Christmas stocking that my grandson now uses.
When I was ill with a variety of childhood diseases that seemed to come one after the other, it was my great grandmother who took care of me. Her hands were narrow with prominent veins showing through the thin, pale skin. I remember that I loved to touch her hands, look at the lines on her palms, and wonder what all the lines meant. I worried that her "life-line" was fractured at several places - I depended on her to be there when I needed her, when I wanted answers to questions about the past - and the future. I was fearful that any event would shorten her life and separate us. As a little girl, I hoped that one day my hands would look like Nanny's.
The sketch I have done of my hand is far from perfect, or even accurate. The joint from my hand to the first knuckle is too long and changes the proportion of the sketch. I didn't put in any background to place my hand somewhere in space. I didn't take time to make the bright orange "Medic Alert" bracelet rest on my wrist, instead it looks like more of an orange handcuff added as an afterthought. It doesn't look much like Nanny's hand, or my grandmother's hand. Rather, it reminds me of someone else's hand, someone closer - my mother.
I recall often looking at her hands during the last few years of her life. They didn't show many of the usual signs of age even in her late 70's. Yes, the skin was thinner, the veins a bit more prominent, the lines on her palms a little deeper - and there was even a bump or two on some of her fingers.
Is that really MY hand, my left hand? Maybe. I'm not certain...could it be my mother's?
(This sketch is in a 5"x8" Moleskine notebook, done in pencil with a touch of watercolor paint.)
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
EDM #117 and #28 and "Best Buddies"
EDM #117 -Draw Something Round
I bet you don't know what this round thing is! I wouldn't have known three years ago, but now it is a part of my life several afternoons a week. This red, round item is the "stamper" that I use to put a postmark on letters and packages at my Post Office. It has a flat side so that it won't roll off the counter and so that the postmark can be positioned correctly. If you put your thumb on the flat side, it assures that the post mark will be upright!
The handle is made of wood and really is bright, shiny red. The end of it has a circle of rubber type that lists the city, state, our Contract Postal Station number, and a place for the date. In the center are three tiny slots for the month, day and year. I have to use tweezers to take the numbers out and put the next ones in. At the end of each day, one of us changes the date and stamps all the forms for the next morning.
When I joined the EDM list, "draw something round" was the challenge for that week. I drew this at work, in pencil, and painted it in watercolor sometime later. I touched it up last night and lifted a little bit of the color in the dark areas. The Holbein watercolors lift with ease, blend smoothly and are very rich. They are highly saturated, a little goes a long way. In my opinion, that makes them an economical choice for artist quality paints. They are my favorites! Paper is a page from the small watercolor Moleskine.
EDM #28 - Draw an Appliance
I did this sketch on a terribly hot day at Stan's Laundry, where it was also very hot. Stan's is close to home, and the majority of the machines are in working order - most of the time. This giant costs $4.50 to use but holds a huge quantity of laundry. On this particular day, I was there to wash every throw rug and "dog towel" in the house. Twelve little dog feet and daily summer rains create a bunch of laundry! This is in the 5"x8" Moleskine Notebook, sketched with a Cretacolor GraphitAquarell, 4B. I brushed on a bit of water when I got home. The GraphitAquarell is smooth to use and erases easily - without smudges. I use it for Sudoku too - lots of erasing!
Speaking of little dog feet...
Here are two more sketches. One is in pencil and the other is in ink with Faber-Castell Aquarelle Pencil. They are done in a Bateman Sketch book which has a firm, smooth paper that handles a bit of wet media pretty well.
There are two Doxies in these sketches. The one on the right is a black and tan, and very, very round. These little guys are three years old and have been inseperable companions since we got them. They are crated together when we are out and they sleep together on my chair, the sofa, or the dog bed. Doxies seem to do best when they are part of a "herd" and prefer to sleep piled up on one another. Since it is hot weather, side by side will be OK for now!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
EDM #13 - Draw Your Phone
When I was a younger woman, with two small children at home, the telephone was something that hung on the wall in the kitchen. The cord was long enough for me to get around the room and shut off the faucet, turn off the stove, or set the table. My chin held the phone, supported by my left shoulder, and I often had one of the children on my right hip. Recalling my image in my bright yellow kitchen of the mid 60's, I am not surprised that I that my spine is a bit off kilter. A cell phone isn't as easy to fit into that space between the chin and the shoulder, or, could it be that my neck doesn't bend as well after 40 years?
The telephone was my lifeline when the kids were young. When I was at home with them and not able to get out of the house for one reason or another, I could call my friends and share the tales that young mothers tell about their lives. As I have aged, the phone is a different kind of lifeline. I carry the cell phone with me when I drive, if I'm working outside, doing the laundry in the garage, and I even keep it next to the bed so I don't have to track it down in the morning. It is a safety net. It is with me if something happens that I need it.
Phones have changed so much! As a teenager, I was excited when I got my first "Princess" telephone in my bedroom. It was a thrill when push buttons replaced rotary dials on the wall phones. Later, portable phones made it possible to move from one room to another, even outside, without picking up an extension. Now, a phone with no antenna somewhere in the house and no cord to tangle. You can carry it in your pocket or bag and never be out of touch (except in the Smokey Mountains or the Blue Ridge).
I resisted the cell phone idea for a long time. But, just like an automobile, it became a necessity. I assessed my vulnerability index and realized that I probably couldn't change a tire anymore or walk a mile or two on the side of the highway to get a gas can filled. It is possible that I could fall outside, or inside, and break a bone and not be able to reach the phone. Of course, the convenience of not getting up to answer the house phone is another point in its favor! If I could get high speed Internet here, I wouldn't even need a land line! When the land line goes dead from storms, falling limbs, or blown transformers - I reach for the ever-handy cellular!
I could have sketched any phone. However, this little one, clothed in a leather, with a brightly colored screen and a jaunty ring tone, has made my life easier, safer, and more convenient. Therefore, this phone has the honor of being my EDM for today! (5 x 8 Moleskine plain notebook, Holbein watercolors)
Thursday, August 2, 2007
EDM #8 - Draw Your Watch
Recently, I have begun to consider the passing of time in a different light. Most of my life, time has seemed to be an unfriendly element that either constrained me or rushed me faster than I wanted to go. Most of the time it was rushing me. Now that I am 62, time goes faster than ever, but I am able to better appreciate the value of its passing.
I have a book about the relationship of Native Americans and time. There is no word for time in Native American languages and anytime is the right time. The beginning and end of each day is accompanied by prayer and ritual. For the First Americans, every day is a gift to be cherished, enjoyed, and used wisely.
I think that my relationship with time changed when I started school. There wasn't any pre-school or kindergarten when I was 5 years old. You started right out in first grade! I don't think I could read much, if at all, and I know that I had no clue about mathematics. I didn't mind being at school but the hours seemed to creep as I anxiously waited to get back home. Why did school have to take up so much of the day, so much of my time? I had a lot of other things that I wanted to do!
On August 1, each year, I spend a bit of the day thinking specifically about the importance of time because it is the 63rd anniversary of my father's death. He didn't have much time to live -he was 22 when his plane crashed in England during World War II. I have already lived 40 years longer than my father. His death reminds me that I have a responsibility to cherish the time I have today, and every day.
The watch in the sketch above is clipped inside the bag that I carry each day. I rarely look at it to see the time, but it is there if I want to. For today, I will do the things I need to do and remember how lucky I am to have another day to live and to remember my dad.
(2B pencil, Moleskine 5" x8" notebook, Graphtint pencils)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)