18
Jun

Does Romance Outlast the Rose?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Blogging, Doodles, Just Thoughts..., Paintings, inspiration

Roses say romance… but does the romance outlast the rose?

Once upon a time, eighteen years or so ago, a young man won his love’s heart with a rose every Friday.

Oh, it wasn’t always a rose. Sometimes it was a dozen roses, sometimes a teddy bear. But always a gift, and always on Friday. And always with a note, “Will you have dinner with me?”

She had fallen in love with him long before the gifts began, when they had dated earlier. But circumstances had happened, and at this point, they were not a couple.

She liked getting the gifts, and the romance they promised. Yet she wondered how long both the gifts and the promise would last once she said, “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

So for a while she said nothing………………………………

But before we finish the story…

web-rose-signedMy husband’s and my forty-five-year-romance is rarely conveyed by a dozen roses delivered as a matter of expectation for a holiday or anniversary, but by the little surprises that come just because – for no special reason.

It’s finding a note and little cartoon drawing put next to the coffee pot where my husband knows I’ll greet my morning. Love that!

It’s dinner out, sharing an entrée, two forks, one plate, two glasses of wine – his red, mine white.

It’s talking about the books we’re reading, sharing ideas, while sipping hot café mochas in a coffee shop anytime of day. Or just reading together, quietly, over our coffees.

It’s adventure – exploring places together. We can be hiking or biking (once we went sky-diving!), dressed in sweats or denim, have soup and salads for lunch, or a chunk of bread and cheese and a glass of red wine. Nothing need be fancy, or expensive. It’s the doing… together.

It’s his framing a snapshot of me, taken on one of those adventures, to hang above his desk, with this comment typed around the edges: When a special person touches our lives then suddenly we see how beautiful and wonderful our world can really be… Love that!

Enduring romance is an intimate discovering of life, together, through many ups and downs. It’s a mutual awareness of and sensitivity to each other, knowing there is no one else you’d rather be living it with.

web-erin-ken-bermuda

…And back to the story…

Our daughter did eventually say yes to the young man’s dinner plans. This Saturday will be their 17th anniversary.

They’re in that process of discovering and enjoying life together. And he’s still giving her gifts. Like this recent trip to Bermuda…

What is your idea of romance? Poetic or otherwise.

Please enjoy the coffee, have a seat, and think back…

Thank you for coming. :)

Barb


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11
Jun

Do We Always Do What We’ve Always Done?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Digital, Just Thoughts..., Paintings

Must we always do things we’ve always done just because we’ve always done them?

I used to cook. And decorate the food.

When Wes and I were first married, I learned to cook on a budget because money was definitely scarce, and much of what little we both made as teachers had to be saved to buy furniture — and later a home.

But I cooked! I got very creative with chicken and hamburger. And not just with recipes…

I learned how to present food! That just means I arranged it on inexpensive plates so you’d not notice the plates so much. And made centerpieces of wildflowers — weeds? — and driftwood.

We invited new friends over and fed them pretty food. Still chicken, or budget cuts of beef, but pretty!

When our girls came along I continued to create meals, ever experimenting with new tastes, new looks. (The artist in me has always wanted to speak.)

I don’t cook pretty anymore though… What happened?

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Sketched and painted in Corel Painter

Now when the kids come over on Sundays, lunch is usually pick-up-style. Hot soups and stews in cold weather. Sandwiches and cookouts in warm. With nibblies and extras on the side…

Yummy — but rarely pretty. Rarely creative!

Friends are still and always welcome — but they get coffee and nibblies. Or wine and nibblies. We go out for dinner!

Things change as we change.

My girls grew up………………………

Wes and I found out how much fun it is to share a meal without having fixed it. Or having to clean up afterwards. Besides, we have better conversations when we go out to eat. Just the two of us. That’s fun.

I still need to create. That hasn’t changed. But my way of expressing it has…

jamie-at-12I’d been dabbling in oils and watercolors and doodling with pens for many years. I love watching people, their emotions, un-asked questions, pieces of their personalities manifested across their faces and in their posture.

Body language really does have a lot to say if we take the time to listen to what we see.

I wanted to capture that with my brushes. And I started searching for portrait artists who could teach me. Both locally and on the Internet.

Then in April, 2006, I met Corel Painter software and the Wacom Intuos 3 Tablet in a week-long workshop taught by Jerry Schuster in Durham, North Carolina.

This was my first digital oil painting, my first experience using Painter.  Jamie — at age 12 — put on her mom’s sweater and sunglasses and posed. I took a lot of liberties, using more than one photo to get what I saw in my mind, and Jerry printed it out for me on a 16×20 inch canvas.

I’ve been hooked ever since on all things Painter, and everyday I learn something new. I’d far rather discover something with my paints than cook!

Will this change too?

Probably — because I keep learning and growing and experimenting and creating.

For me, change is a forward motion. Circumstance sometimes requires it, but just as often, we require it. We change as we grow………………….. we move on.

What do you think?

What has changed as you move forward?

Barb

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4
Jun

When is the Art Done?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Just Thoughts..., Paintings, inspiration

I was recently asked, When is the art done? And I gave some silly response that had nothing to do with the question.

Maybe if she’d asked, Is the art ever done? I might have answered like this:

No. It’s never done. Not really. Not if the artist uses pigments to tell a story and the lead character is a person, or a flower, or even a lonely pot by a stone wall.

People aren’t done. Flowers aren’t either — whether attached to their roots or cut for a still life portrait. They grow and bloom fully and then wither. Like people.

There’s a reason the old crockery pot sits alone in the sun against a stone wall. Someone put it there… someone else may pick it up and use it in ways it’s never known before.

Good art captures the story of the moment… and allows viewers in to observe, feel, and become a part of that moment. To embrace it as their own, and to imagine what’s next. Or what difference it might make to them.street-scene-signed-800pix

Good art may begin a story, but more likely will point to a moment in time and allow the viewer to finish it.

…you skip in

to the painting…

get lost in a tale

told with shadows and light…

enriched you move on…

and come back…

Okay. not great poetry, but I hope you see my point.

As a painter there are times I feel my work is ready to frame. That’s because what I saw in my mind’s eye I managed to say on the canvas.

So to answer the original question When is the art done?:

I suppose my painting is done when the story of the moment has been told.

What do you think? Do you have that one painting that is an open-ended story you love to revisit? Do you consider it done?

Thanks so much for coming by and sharing your own tidbits…

Barb

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29
May

Do Impromptu Visits With Friends Uplift You?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Just Thoughts...

My friend Donna rapped on my door one night as I sat down to read the paper before dinner.

She stood in the drizzle of rain mixed with twilight, her face barely visible under a hooded sweatshirt.

Just for a bit of conversation she said.

I was delighted!

I crave the kind of friendship that sees no clock or circumstance, that just wants to come and share for a small while.women-talk-over-coffee

When she left, another friend called and asked to come over. She wanted us to tweak a brochure I had made for her on my computer.

She came. We tweaked.

And then we talked over freshly-brewed mocha cappuccinos.

Yum… both the mochas and the friendships.

I didn’t have much dinner that night, and I didn’t miss it!

I was filled by the company of two friends who are genuine and who uplifted me with their impromptu visits.

That they wanted to stop by somehow validated me and I felt good. Right or wrong…

Do unexpected visits from friends interrupt your day? Or uplift them? Or both?

Have some coffee. Mochas and frappacinos and bottled water are all available. :)

And share your thoughts……. :)

Barb


Image © Forestpath | Dreamstime.com

27
May

What Will You Have Done With Your Day When the Sun Sets?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in inspiration

The day is still fresh though the dew has dried. The cool air brushes by softly, but I’m comfortable in sweats. A few birds still sing. A neighbor starts his lawn mower somewhere in the distance…

And I have my day planned. What am I doing with it?

Out of the blocks…

jamie-out-of-the-blocks

Jamie VanCauwenbergh

By evening, when the sun says good-night, when the birds settle down and the crickets take up the song…

What will I have done with my day?

Terry Starbucker and Chris Garrett are both having one of those heady blog conversations:

What comes naturally to us, like breathing? And are we doing those things — in our careers and in our lives beyond careers?

What am I natural at doing…

What do I love doing…

What am I good at…

What do I not love doing…

What am I not good at…

I grew up with parents who loved, ate, breathed their professions. My dad lived by the motto “You gotta’ love it!”

So I knew I would love whatever I did.

Because that’s how life was.

And I knew what I would be. A mommy.

Since college was part of the deal in our family, and since I’d been told that teaching would allow me to be on my kids’ schedule once I became a mommy, I went.

And I became a teacher…

…which I did not love. Oops…

But I did love being a mommy.

Fifteen years and three growing girls later, my husband and I started a family business, which he built and I ran. My teaching turned to training others for business…

…and in that process I realized I had a heart and passion for people — encouraging them to hunt down and define and pursue their dreams. To stand tall in who they were becoming. To believe in their abilities, their unique gifts.

From how they dressed to how they ate and exercised to what they read to how they prepared their hearts and minds for all the life they had in front of them, I wanted them to catch my upbeat outlook. I wanted them to be excited about their own possibilities.

I still feel that passion… I have enough years behind me that I know some things are not worth worrying about, that many so-called failures are simply low grades on a test — meaning you just haven’t learned the material yet. I know that while it’s good to be liked, other people don’t define you.

I love my life and anticipate every day of it — one day and adventure at a time. I need to share that — with my kids first, and then with others who want to live life fully.

That’s what I want to have done at day’s end… shared something good with and about the people I come across on any particular day.

I’m an encourager…

Who are you?

What will you have done by day’s end that you love doing?

Do you make it part of your career? And beyond that, part of your life?

Thanks for coming by… please have some coffee, and share something about yourself if you’d like to… :)

Barb

Image of my granddaughter Jamie © Kelly VanCauwenbergh 2009

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23
May

Do You Have a Minute, Jack?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Just Thoughts..., Paintings

I fell in love as soon as I opened the photos for last week’s Weekend Drawing Event at WetCanvas.

His name is Jack…jack-low-res

He’s so young, but I see a child who appears comfortable with who he is so far. Maybe he is loved enough to be who he is. That’s a comforting thought.

He looks as if someone has just asked: Do you have a minute, Jack?

And he has stopped his work to listen…

little-boy-signed-print

Whatever his story, I needed to paint it...

He slows the world down for me, just for today. In a world that’s crazy with GO! — a world that seems to spin ahead with or without my permission — this little guy offers me a minute to breathe and gather my thoughts. To smile. To feel like I matter.

He’s in no hurry.

Am I? Do I take the time to say yes to someone who needs a minute to be heard? Do I consider them important enough to stop what I’m doing and just listen?

How about you?

Barb

P.S. Thank you so much for coming by. Please help yourself to coffee — Valerie often brings doughnuts or other goodies over from Seeing Things.

This morning I’m stealing a rose from Vered’s beautiful garden for the side board. :) If you get a chance, scoot over there for a bigger bouquet and for her thoughts on life-predictability and time’s fast pace. You’ll be glad you did. Just the pictures are worth it.

The painting is done in Corel Painter 11, using Den’s Oil Brushes. You can see the details of the painting here if you wish.

I drew him first, and used Den’s Oil Brushes in Corel Painter 11, giving him different shirt colors to bring more focus to his precious face and posture.

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15
May

Fiction Touches and Helps Heal Real Life Emotions

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Doodles, Just Thoughts...

Can we heal emotional hurts by reading and relating to fictional stories?

I think so…

At Every Day Thoughts from Life readers were invited to look at and give critique to the beginning of a short story called Death of the Heart, written by Sal Vilardopatty-nice-fractal-play

As the story opens, a young man named Micca stands at a window in his dad’s room (at a small health care facility) looking through the rain at a poorly-kept lawn and a small, cluttered back porch. His memories and thoughts run crosswise through his mind and roughshod over his heart. Like so many broken pieces.

His dad is dying, and he’s the only one there…

Reading the story’s opening paragraphs brought up my own memory:face4

I’ve been at that window…

… at the end of a hospital corridor, with those emotions, as my mom lay close to death in a room down the hall.

They were sending her home, and I’d just been made primary care-giver. Without warning, without experience, without wanting the job!

I lived 1300 miles away… I couldn’t nurse… Couldn’t lift my mom… Had family and kids back home… Had just found out about the severity of her illness… Hadn’t even had time to process yet!

Standing there, looking out over the hospital lawn with rains trickling in chaotic patterns on cold unfeeling glass, my emotions churned and fell over each other. Fast. Nothing lasted long enough to figure out. Just questions. No answers. Like the chaos on the window glass. Ever-changing. Cold.

Would anyone understand I couldn’t deal with this?

Did they care?

During those last three months of my mom’s life, I wrote. Not in the pretty journals I was used to — but in large ugly spiral notebooks and sheets of cheap yellow manuscript paper.

I wrote poetry. And prayers. I asked questions and wrote out my frustration. It was my way of sorting and trying to understand feelings and thoughts that made no sense to me.

That was twenty-three years ago. The world returned to normal as I came home to my family, to my life.

Yet I’ve never been able to rewrite or share how I felt until today. I still miss her…

…my mom’s intelligence, her spiritual strength, and her sense of humor remained to the end. And those are treasures to me to this day — treasures I wouldn’t have been given had I not stayed to care for her. My sisters and dad and I grew even closer, sharing responsibilities as each of us was able.

There are so many reasons why I wouldn’t trade those months. Not for anything.

I wonder how Micca’s circumstances will resolve?

Have you ever had a terrifying experience you wouldn’t trade?

Does reading fiction help you deal with and learn from those experiences?

Have a great weekend, and enjoy the coffee……………………….. :)

Barb

P.S. The abstract painting is here by permission of the artist, my friend Patty Nice. You can see this one and others — fractals and kaleidoscopes — on her blog, The Accidental Artist.

The second image is a doodle I did in Painter X, playing with the brushes. To me it feels like I felt that day at the corridor  window so many years ago.

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28
Apr

Why Does an Artist Paint? Or a Writer Write?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Just Thoughts..., Watercolor

Other than as a way of earning a living, what drives an artist, writer, musician — any creative person — to do what they love doing? Why does an artist paint? Or a writer write?

I know there are many reasons — all as unique as the person(s) behind the art — but here are just three:

1. Lose oneself in play and discoveryscan0001

I lose myself… in the wonderful mess of creating journal covers or filling up the pages with words arranged all sorts of ways.

Or dropping wet watercolors onto a thick thirsty sheet of Arches 300# paper and watching where it goes… what I can encourage it to become by tilting it and pouring salt on it.

Or laying a graphite stick on its side to draw a shape simply by shading its sides and watching as three dimensions form on a two-dimensional surface.

Or just with a pen or pencil, doodling and scratching out designs on whatever surface I can claim.

2. Reconnect with oneself

Deb Boyken at Punctuality Rules says writing helps her be herself…

In many ways, sitting down to write something feels like getting back in touch with my brain. Much like a painter who finally finds the time to pick up a brush and place it on canvas, or a runner who puts on her shoes and goes out the door–writing touches something that makes me feel like ME…

elizabeth-roth-Mary_s_Annunciation3. Express oneself and tell stories

My artist and writer friend, Elizabeth (Sally) Roth, describes the artist behind her paintings at her Cottage Door Studio:

I am an artist with no formal training in the arts. I paint, draw, photograph and write because I find these the only ways I can express my true self.

I have many stories to tell, as we all do.  Painting one’s — or another’s — story is what my life is about — painting (both with) words and paint…

Sally painted Mary’s Annunciation, at left, during a week-long workshop in Vermont,  and the story you see is reflective, personal, and beautifully told in watercolors.

This print plus more of her work is available in her online shop.

What is your way of playing, discovering, reconnecting with and expressing yourself? And can you add another reason for doing it?

Thank you so much for coming by.I hope you’ll share………………….

Barb

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15
Apr

Do We Really Get What We See?

   Posted by: Barb Hartsook   in Art Works, Just Thoughts...

Do we really get what we see? Or must we learn to see past what we see?

In the The Art Spirit, artist/author/philosopher/teacher Robert Henri, wrote :

We have strange ways of seeing. If only we knew — then we could tell. If we knew what we saw, then we could paint it.

It’s true not just for artists who paint stories with brushes or pens, or for writers who tell those stories with their words.

It’s also true as we look at and interact with each other. Friends, old and new, and those we are just meeting, casually or professionally. Is what we see really what we get? And do we get what it is we’re seeing?

If only we knew, then we could tell…………

1girl_810I entered this painting-from-a-photo, done in Corel’s Painter X,  in a contest at Digital Painting Forum a couple years ago. Contestants were given a choice of photos to use as reference, and I took this one after spending some time looking and wondering what this young woman saw…

Was she turning into something or away from it? Was that uncertainty or determination in her face? Fear or anticipation? Or all of that? barbhartsook_girl_signed_800pix

In the photo she’s dressed in what could be an after-five-meet-for-drinks basic sheath, but she looks hesitant to me. As if maybe she were meeting a group of new friends or coworkers. Stepping outside her comfort space.

I painted her at the edge of the party, determined to be there, to mix and meet and fit in. Anticipating yet a little uncertain. But I also painted her alternative choice to stay casual and relax and just “hang out” with her closest buddies.

Other contestants saw other stories, other personalities. And who is to know really? (I didn’t win this one. :) )

We only have the book’s cover — not enough to tell us all we need to know about her. The other party guests will have to take it from here.

What can they expect? What is there to like or learn by getting to know her? Can they discern integrity and trust, intelligence, talent, even her entry level into the company, by her appearance? Does a quick glance tell us the whole story?

We have strange ways of seeing. If only we knew, then we could tell……………………….

I think how often I snap to a judgment based on first glances. I’m just imagining after all… and when I do imagine, I must remember it IS my imagining, not who they may actually be.

What do you think? Can you separate your visual judgments from who a person actually might be?

Just like all the artist contestants who saw something different in this photo, I enjoy the variety of stories you all add in your comments here. I value them all. :)

Barb

P.S. Please treat yourself to a wonderful way of Seeing Things…

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I love to take tests… personality, color, clothing-style tests — whatever is offered. What I don’t like is that the questions asked often require more than scaled-answer responses offered. You know, the on-a-scale-of kind of answers with no provision for actually answering. Or multiple choice answers — and none of the choices fits you exactly.

So of course, the results aren’t really accurate. They just hint at… Oh well. They’re still fun to take and share with your friends.

We’re ALL valid!

What I do like about such tests is how many colors and styles and sounds of validity there are. We’re all valid. All the personality types, expressed in so many wonderful ways, have value and place in our communities — online and off.discovering-inner-style alive-with-color

What’s my clothing style? Does it match my hair style and makeup and jewelry? My personality?

I’ve been professionally color-coded as sunlight, vibrant summer, winter 2, maybe spring, soft summer, hmmm…

I’ve been told (also professionally) I’m a Natural in clothing (I like denim), a Classic (I like clothes that are fairly timeless), a Gamin. (Really???)

I’ve been assessed as being a C (conscientious) or an S (steady) personality types. C’s are task oriented. S’s are people-oriented. Both are introverted. Hmmm…

Even though the results of such tests are always ambivalent because the topics are subjective, they serve a purpose:

They make us ask more questions and think more and grow and change — all to see what works and what doesn’t. And they add to our conversations.

I’m me. And you’re you. Genuinely, authentically. And as long as we accept our own validity and everyone else’s, we’ll all fit.

What do you think? Have you taken any tests that give validity to you and help you see how you fit? How we all fit?

Water’s cold; coffee’s hot. Help yourself. :)

Barb


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