Tuesday, March 31, 2009

LOOKING GLASS



When I first arrived home, I went up into my childhood room to unpack my things. As I stared into the fisheye mirror that hung on my bedroom wall, I thought to myself, "Perhaps this was a contributing factor to my low self-esteem and poor body image growing up." Either way, looking into that distorted exaggeration of reality, at that specific moment, felt appropriate - like I was about to enter "that" world.

*this is an excerpt from my cancer memoir CAR DEALER'S DAUGHTER

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

JETHRO... MY WONDERFUL DOG



There's no better dog in the whole wide world than my boy Jethro. I got him six years ago from a shelter in Kennebunk, Maine - one cold, rainy, June morning. His birthday is an easy one to remember: 3/03/2003. I was told that he came from down south - living in a small, overcrowded pen full of neglected Black and Tan Coonhounds of all ages and temperaments. He was 4 months old when I got him, and had completely missed out on that small, but important socialization window; as a result he's a bit of a scaredy-cat, and overcompensates by overreacting to other dogs with a show of off-the-charts barking, lunging, and acting the fool. He knew nothing of apartment-living etiquette when we first got together: sounding his bellowing hound alarm most every night at most every little noise, chewing through electrical cords, falling up and down stairs, peeing on my bed and artwork; within the first several months of owning him, he had ingested and thrown up darn near my entire apartment's contents. The outside world was an even greater challenge; he felt the sky was falling with every step he took. We've come a long way since that morning in June - he and I both. We spend 24 hours a day together, and I have to say I love him more than anything. We've been working on "play dead" this past week; he's picking it up pretty quickly - though I'm having a hard time convincing him that "dead dogs" don't wag their tails. He's perfect at "bow," "wave," "shake," "jump," "touch," and your basic "sit," "stay," "wait," "heel," and "come." We have a little dance routine going - albeit a rough one; Jethro likes Willie Nelson and Junior Brown - must be his southern roots. 

* This is a 5'x6' painting I did for a dog training facility in Portland, Maine called "My Wonderful Dog." I used Jethro (as a pup) for my model, and painted it to look like he's sitting on their logo... "good sit Jethro."


    

Monday, March 16, 2009

THE WEIGHT OF THE FAITHFUL



Aside from yearly holiday and special occasion trips home, most of my adult relationship with my parents took place over the phone. I usually spoke with my mother, who later reported to my father as to what I had been up to; much was lost in translation. If it was a Sunday (the only day my father wasn't at work) then it was all three of us on the phone at the same time.



These three-way calls often turned into trivia based squabbles between my mom and dad, as I listened in as the silent third party. "Bill, the name of that actor was Mitchum, not Mitchell - you keep calling him Mitchell - get the Almanac." The Webster's Dictionary, Book of Hoyle, and The World Almanac were the three reference books that held the power to end most every argument between them. These dog-eared referees had the final say, but never the last word; each face-off ended with one of my parents declaring, "HA! I WAS RIGHT!"

I'm not sure if happiness was a goal in my parent's marriage; their example of "union" wasn't what I wanted for myself, but seemed to be what worked for them - or simply, what seemed to be. Their relationship was like an old car held together by MacGyver riggings; it got them to where they needed to go, but I have no idea how it ever passed inspection.

*an excerpt from my cancer memoir entitled CAR DEALER'S DAUGHTER.


Sunday, March 15, 2009

SAVE OUR SOULS



If you've ever been to rural, southeastern Pennsylvania during the summer, you know that the sun is a scorcher, and the air is thick with humidity and clouds of pesky gnats; this summer was no different. There wasn't as much rain as usual so I needed to supplement the gardens daily with a sprinkle from the hose. It felt as though I was giving the thirsty plants just enough water to make it through another day; it felt careless the amount of time I had to devote to such things. That's how everything felt that summer - insufficient - like we were all surviving off crumbs. We were able to eat, sleep, laugh, and cry just enough to make it through another day.

*an excerpt from my cancer memoir entitled CAR DEALER'S DAUGHTER

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

FRANK AND NANCY


I dipped my paintbrush into a little kitsch and painted a portrait of Frank and Nancy Sinatra. If you want to feel good, in that kitschy sort of way, play yourself some "The Last of the Secret Agents," "Summer Wine," "Something Stupid," and "Jackson" -  you just can't be in a bad mood while listening to them and using cobalt blue and cadmium red straight out of the tube!



* both of these pieces measure 18"x24" and are from a series of musician portraits.

Monday, March 9, 2009

STOLON SPRING



"You can die from a fish bone." I've held this ominous certainty to memory as far back as I can recall.


One could die from a fish bone as well as a broken heart. How could delicate cartilage and sadness have the same authority as violent crime and cancer to snuff out life?



These disturbing beliefs caused me to walk through childhood by way of caution - combing for tiny bones, and making a point to let no one hear too much hunger or heartache in the way I stated my needs.

* These are the opening lines to a short story I wrote last May called STOLON SPRING. "Stolon" refers to the root systems of the Trout Lilies I was admiring when I discovered the body of a man lying dead in the park where I walk my dog everyday; it was a "stolon" spring and a "stolen" spring. 



Sunday, March 8, 2009

TOTAL TRANSFORMATION



This is a recent commissioned portrait I painted of James Lehman; he works with troubled kids through a program he developed called "Total Transformation." I'd love a few more commissions to come my way so I could totally transform my troubled bank account.

* this piece measures 24"x36"

Saturday, March 7, 2009

MR. FREEMAN



An 18"x24" portrait of Morgan Freeman - because he has a great face, because I want to hone my portrait painting skills, and because I recently read where his career didn't get serious recognition until he was fifty... there's hope for me yet.

* the photo I used as reference for this painting was lifted from the internet, and, in no way, do I take credit for it; I believe it was a Rolling Stone magazine cover a few years back.


Thursday, March 5, 2009

MAX



A 3'x4' painting of "Max" in summer light - noble boy that he was.


Wednesday, March 4, 2009

COUCH POTATO


A portrait of a white couch potato.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

TESS


A painting of "Tess" in the snow.