An old crockery pot lay against a crooked stone wall. Dusty and hot in the sun. Chipped just a tiny piece in the back. I nudged it with my toe, and while I knocked loose part of the stone behind it, nothing crawled out, so I considered it safe to pick up. I blew off some of the dust, wiped a bit of the grime away, and thought I might have found a treasure. How old? Who was to say, and what difference did it make? What I saw was beautiful… and I had a use for it. It was brand new to me.

Age really isn’t an issue — even ours. All we know for sure is how many years we’ve had, but we don’t even know how old we are until we know how long we have yet. We’re standing at the beginning of the rest of our lives. What will we do with it? Time and duties and circumstances have left their dust on us. How will we blow it away and polish up our own usefulness?

In an earlier post, Childhood Dreams Fulfilled?, several people left comments regarding the lateness of the hour as they began pursuing some of those early dreams that had been blocked by circumstance until now. Yet all of them are moving on… pursuing what was buried either because of duty or because someone unwittingly had trounced on those dreams.

Sliloh and Dee are both talented artists and writers. Their blogs are not just delightful, I learn something whenever I visit either one of them. Both have overcome circumstances that might cripple some — but they tend to their respective passions… and life is good.

Wendy wrote: I am another late starter. I wasn’t allowed to go to university, so after being edged out of my computing career due to my age, I went to a TAFE college for 3 years and then to university and finally got my BFA last year. I am very lucky, because I now have a nice life teaching painting, book art, and working on the website & advertising stuff for an acrylic paint company. So it is never too late.

I think Wendy is “lucky” because she has pursued her dreams. I agree completely — It’s never too late.

Susie wrote: I so relate to this Barb. I was informed that all the art I loved, writing, sculpting, painting, musical instruments would never get me anywhere in life, so opted for the “real” world. I’ve raised my family and now disability has actually allowed me to come back to my passions…oh life is grand!

Viki wrote: I think our childhood dreams never really die, but are always lingering in the back of our minds, patiently waiting to emerge… My artistic ability is what made me shine during my childhood, but I was told time and again that I couldn’t make a living with art. So I pursued something more practical - accounting. Sure, I was good at (it) and (it) brought in decent income, but it wasn’t fulfilling. I was eventually attracted to the web design business and now writing, both of which bring out the creative in me and indwell me with a sense of fulfillment and peace.

I love stories like these. There are several others as well, all the comments heartfelt. I’m grateful to you all for sharing something so personal in such a way that each of us knows we are not alone.

An old pot sits in the sun against the stone, waiting to be useful. Take it, plant it, and nurture your treasured dreams. Today is a beginning.

Come for coffee — and help yourself to the chocolate as well.

Barb

With brush and pen I paint… er, make that brush and pencil. Liquid pencils that come in a jar.

On a quick trip to Bunny’s Artwork a couple weeks ago I found what looked like an ink and wash painting, which reminded me of Angus Stewart’s watercolors. I commented to Bunny, and she wrote back that she’d used Liquid Pencils, not inks.

Ahhh… I’d never heard of liquid pencils, but I was in discovery mode, plus I love Stewart’s work, and so started my search. I watched the quick drawing demo (scroll down the page to find it) and immediately ordered all the colors available. They aren’t colors, actually, only hints. (Before ordering, click on the Video button to watch another way to use this new medium also in an acrylic base.)

Last weekend at WetCanvas — a painting community online — I answered a challenge to paint any of several photos submitted by one of the members. I chose an antique rocking horse ready for auction. A perfect subject for testing my new toys — six little jars of wet graphite and a new pointy round brush.

And now I’m addicted… this wonderful medium in a water base is completely manageable on watercolor paper. You can rewet it and move it around. I used a rough paper which didn’t allow me to lift completely. But it did give me nice texture for the old wooden horse.

Hot press paper works very well too.

Here are both the photo and my drawn painting. I used the yellow pencil, and then glazed it in Painter X with a gel-layer of sepia.

Original photo, courtesy of Beth at Wet Canvas	Wooden Hobby Horse, 9×12, Liquid Pencil on rough watercolor paper

Next I will try spraying the drawing with fixative, and experiment with watercolor washes… Another day.

Have you heard of these? What have you done with them, or do you prefer to use ink? Link us to your drawings so we can see…

And have some coffee! Bunny’s pouring.

Barb

My interest in all things art-related goes back to my little girl days of Crayola crayons, kid-safe scissors and paste, and all the scrap paper I could find. I remember loving the splashes of color in my grandmother’s English-style gardens, and how pretty everything looked when the sun was low in the sky and made patterns on houses and tree trunks. When someone asked me my favorite color, I said yes. My mom used to tell people my favorite was red. She didn’t seem to understand my answer – I loved them all!

Sadly, art was not a consideration when I headed to college. It was thought of as play by my parents, who were paying for my education.

So my dream, like many others’ childhood dreams, got stuffed into the treasure box of my mind and tucked under the bottom shelf. I moved from college into the business of helping to make a living with my new husband and planned-for kids. We made the life, had the kids, and life happened non-stop for many years.

But I am a firm believer in taking out and polishing up old dreams at some point. It’s part of discovering life — an on-going process that never ends, no matter the age. Two years ago I wrote a letter to myself and outlined the two paths I wanted to pursue. You guessed it… writing and painting. I’ve taken many workshops and have been encouraged to continue.

My life is full, and I am growing.

Today I happened on this conversational-friendly blog, This Garden is Illegal. I wouldn’t have thought to go there if Alice hadn’t recommended it in The LVS Blogging Blog as a great example of good writing. But boy am I glad I did. I love this blogger’s friendly approach and humor, as well as her writing style. But most of all I was taken with her list of three childhood dreams fulfilled. If you have a minute to spare, you will enjoy reading this older post, called The Meaning of it All.

And maybe you’ll start thinking about some of your old buried and forgotten dreams. Tomorrow’s today will have a clean slate, ready for you to fill.

So grab a mug and share what dreams you’re unearthing…

Barb

Painting done with Painter X brushes.

When we were little, my sister Nita and I took piano lessons together. I labored and plunked until I became passably good at playing a few pieces. I usually managed to get through the annual recital smoothly, without embarrassing myself. (Family and friends’ parents were always gracious anyway.)

My sister, though, didn’t just play the piano — she became one with the music and simply played what she felt. What she heard in her head came through her fingers as a gift to the rest of us. Even as a child, whenever she played, I sat to listen. Her music was magical, not just perfectly played, but with its own life.

Today she paints, using Painter X and its wet pixel pigments. She looks at photos of people and pets, and sees behind the eyes. And she connects with who she feels they are. I’ve told her she paints as she plays the piano, giving life — that something more — to each painting, and her response was this:

When I’m painting faces — either on people or animals — I do have a similar feeling as when I’m playing the piano. Becoming a part of the subject or piece completely takes control once I start….almost without trying. Hard to explain…

You can see some of her work in her Painter Magazine gallery. (Don’t miss the second page.)

I no longer play the piano much. Nor do I know how to play any other instrument. My music is in words and paintings. And is played with pen and ink and brush and pigments.

Here is a doodle I made in honor of my sister’s talents. (There is abstract music (score) in the background. You can see it larger if you click on doodle link.)

We all have music inside us… what is yours and how do you play it? Please feel free to share your site as a link.

It’s a warm summer afternoon — iced coffee anyone?

Barb

Life is not without it’s surprises and seeming failures. Almost daily. Even when the day is planned to the hour, in some cases the minute. And just like the famous Biblical quote in Romans, paraphrased here by me, God weaves all our daily entanglements and urgencies and oopsies together for good if we love and trust… Okay, so I’ve taken that verse loosely. But I live by it. Because if he can do this for the biggies in my life, surely I can take some of my small blunders and play them into something good.

For instance, one sunny morning I laid out a large sheet of Arches 300# paper, white acrylic gesso, acrylic paints, inks, and several doo-dads for creating visual as well as dimensional textures. My goal was to throw it all together somehow and create a masterful abstract while watching Pat Dews’ video “Designing Great Starts with Texture and Form.”

What I ended up with was a colorful mess. So I put it away.

Some days later — on another let’s-do-something-off-the-wall day — I put the sheet back on the table and ran a black mat around it, hoping to salvage a piece of it. And I did… cut it out and went to work with more acrylic paints to bring out what I saw.

I named it “Impromptu Lunch at the Vineyard.” At the same time I was putting together a purple collage I’d been requested to do. I named it “A Walk in the Vineyard.”

Scrolling through Wendy’s blog, Quirky Artist, I stumbled on this wonderful post on creating small texture paintings. I think I’ll try that next…

Do you have a drawer full of blunders to rework another day? What do you do with them? Feel free to post your blog or gallery page in your comment for us to see.

Oh yes, help yourself to coffee…

Barb

It’s through story that we understand truth… a truth that is bigger than we are, and bigger than we are able to tell. But various artists try for pieces of it… using the tools of language, or canvas, paper and pigments, or notes, half-notes and cadence, even dance.

Truth often renders such beauty that it catches your breath. The opus performed in full orchestra, for instance. Or an aria building from the first notes to the final one, held in near perfection — these can cause your soul to sob and leap for joy at the same time.

A classic or modern piece of literature that nails your values and elicits an ah-ha! near the end simply satisfies.

And then there’s the painting… you know, the one that says something meaningful to you every time you look at it. I have a print of one like that hanging in my kitchen. I can’t tell you how it feeds me, but it does.

Here’s one I did of my daughter — the photo reference for this was taken 14 years ago. My daughter was going through a rough patch in her life. But here, holding her new niece, she seems to reconnect with what’s precious and normal. What is purer than a new baby? And holding one you love so close is in itself purifying. Or so it seems to me.

I framed the snapshot back then. Two years ago I painted it, using Painter pigments and oil brushes, and had it printed on canvas, 16×20 inches. It’s framed in a wide, rich mahogany frame, and sits on an easel in our home.

Every painting, as good works of any kind of art, tells a story.

How are you telling your stories? There are so many ways to do so…

Coffee’s on… water too. Even lemonade if you call ahead.

Barb

Dani fills a blank journal with scraps and snippets. Pages of print fonts. Paragraphs she’s cut out or creative pieces she’s written herself, and pictures cut from specialty papers or photos she’s taken. Both sides of every page are filled with whatever pleases her visually. I see no particular continuity to it, yet I love paging through it. Or even better, watching her page through it, sharing it with me. I watch her face, her demeanor, and feel her pleasure as she gives me the gift of some of who she is. Dani is one of my granddaughters. Several years ago I found a bunch of small blank spiral bound sketch books stacked on an end cap at a discount store, priced very low. I bought all they had. A dozen or so. And for the next several days I covered the kitchen island and all peripheral counter-top space available to me with acrylic liquid paints, embossing powders and inks, waxes, buttons, tassles, metal thingie-bobs from the craft store… and I lost myself in the wonderful mess of creating journal covers. Here are eight of them… all given that year as gifts. (Mistake, and lesson learned: don’t give art books to people who don’t write or sketch… just have the covers printed and give those — framed.) Wendy’s blog at QuirkyArtist inspired me to remember my love of journals and dig out these old photos. I have shelves and boxes full of journals — not hand made, but pretty — mostly writings, some drawings. No plain school-type spiral notebooks for me — they just aren’t fun to doodle in! Art journals are though. A fun place to put things — our thoughts, pictures, dreams and wishes, our questions and discoveries, our stream-of-consciousness writing or drawing. Personal stuff. Famous artists’ journals are sometimes published. I once borrowed Frida Kahlo’s from the library and didn’t want to return it! I kept it for a month, feeling I had an intimate portrait of her personality, just by looking at her drawings — mostly of herself. The coffee’s on… come in and share your art journals, or art books, or just a thought about how you use (or love) them. If you’d like to, leave a link where we can see your stuff. And enjoy your day. Barb Hartsook Some of my paintings can be seen here…

This was one of those mornings when coffee and a good book would have been enough. The air was quiet, the sun just yawning, ready to rise with me, and my comfy morning chair beckoned.

But it was not to be… I have deadlines to meet, classes to attend, homework to do. And later in the day, a dance dress-rehearsal to photograph for future paintings. (Two of my granddaughters compete — this weekend is their yearly show.)

I’m rounding out week two in both my current classes, Blogging at LVS, and Open Studio (painting landscapes this session) at the Digital Art Academy.

God stop me if I ever again try to immerse myself so publicly, so visibly in classes that split my thinking! My two brain hemispheres have a challenge working in the same room at the same time. Choose, they tell me. One of us at a time!

Or should I apply what I’m learning in my painting class to my new blog? Maybe. I think so…

I plan to post paintings often — what I’m currently working on, sometimes works-in-progress, sometimes finished paintings already on canvas or watercolor paper. (I paint with traditional watercolors and oil paints as well as with Painter.)

Sometimes I’ll post a tutorial using Corel PainterX.

Here is a quickie landscape I did using Painter last fall. I use it as a greeting card, blank inside.

Today I’m sending it to you as my way of thanking you for stopping by. I hope doing so will make a difference to you somehow.

I welcome comments and conversation… the coffee pot’s on, the teakettle steaming.

Barb

Some of my paintings can be seen here…