Ramblings about Texas

As a young girl, I had a certain impression of what Texas was all about.  Both of my brothers attended Letourneau College, which is near Longview.  We visited several times.  I remember flying into Dallas, and being struck by the huge flatness and dust.  It was very different from the green Catskill mountains of New York, where I grew up.  I never really "thought" of living there.  It was far away, and different, like another country. 

Several years ago, my husband and I watched Lonesome Dove, and then we read all of Larry McMurtry's books about Lonesome Dove.  They awakened another vision of the Big Land.  One of a hundred years ago, where buffalo and Comanchees roamed and reigned.  A wild land of extreme temperatures, and the newly formed Texas Rangers.  I have to admit that Gus McCrae will always be one of my favorite heroes. 

During this time, I really got into the whole vintage cowboy thing for a while.  I remembered a vinyl record of cowboy ballads we listened to as kids, we all loved it.  I found the download on amazon, it has classics like "Blood on the Saddle", and "Jack of Diamonds" on it.  I listened to Johnny Cash and Mary Robbins all of the time, too.  My favorite song, which every cowboy must sing is the "Streets of Laredo", ironically I just discovered it was originally an old Irish ballad, and has quite a few versions, or tales written for the tune. The version below is awesome with the cartoons of a pig, but more importantly, all of the verses I knew as a child are in there. 

So, to continue my ramblings, and to get off of my rabbit trail, I appreciate the history and adventure of the state, and now with the prospect of possibly living there for a while, it means a little more.
First of all, after some online research, it appears that the state is greener than I thought.

 There are fields of flowers, the Bluebonnet is the state flower, I believe.

Of course, there are a couple of middleschool boys I have to trick into viewing the whole thing as an adventure. My daughter is all excited because we are going to take horse back riding lessons!

Visual Journals

On Saturday, I attended a Visual Journal workshop with the local Art Guild that I am a member of.  It was great.  Visual Journals can serve so many purposes, and can be created by anyone.  Following the same type of idea that I use with old recycled books, I began a journal with blank handmade paper from India.  I splurged on it because I fell in love with the leather embossed cover.  I felt it may help inspire me.

The Instructor, Leigh, is an awesome art teacher, who taught highschool art for years at a local private school.  When she taught high school, she encouraged her students to journal, sketch, and brainstorm ideas in altered books and visual journals.

To begin our journals, she encouraged us to use different painting techniques  to create interesting backgrounds.  She often creates a few backgrounds, and then brings the journal with her to sketch and write over the creative backgrounds.  After our backgrounds were dry, she showed us a few different transfer techniques, and we painted and collaged.  The handmade paper I used ended up drinking up the paint very nicely.

 The below method includes gesso, writing text (I chose some Narnia quotes) and smudging. The quotes are two of my favorite interactions from the Last Battle. On a funny note, my daughter asked me a while back, who my favorite fictional animal was, and without thinking I said "Jewel the Unicorn", yes, I really haven't changed much since 6th grade.
To finish the page, I added watercolor paint over it.  Highschool students love this creative activity.

 A background I created today, not sure what I will do to finish it. 

I have a student who is creating an art journal for her confirmation.  I am looking forward to sharing some of these new techniques with her. 

Names and Artistic doodling

For a while now, when a friend has a child, I have painted a piece for the baby's room.  My sister wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise, so I was working on a neutral sheep (her theme) painting for the nursery.  It was not working for me.  She had the baby and no spectacular painting.  So, this is what I came up with when I heard the baby's name.  Adeline is a family name from my dad's side and Frances is a family name from my sister's husband's family.  Now at least she has something pink. 

In other artistic pursuits, I have been mainly doodling.  There is a trend in art called Zentangles, it is basically structured doodling.  I have been looking at some online and it has been a lot of fun.  Zentangles are awesome because you do not need any artistic experience to learn, but as an art teacher, there is a lot of skill development.  Some of my art lessons have doodling included which are very similiar to the Zentangle approach.zentangle explanation 
What I have below are not really zentangles though, but my own take on artistic doodling.

Not a zentangle, but a watercolor poppy.  Poppies always remind me of the Wizard of Oz.

Above are a couple of my Zentangles.

A sketch of a rose from my Valentines bouquet. My husband, bought me the best bouquet this year, because it was a mix of red, pinks, and white.  I think the white ones were my favorites.  Red roses are so hackneyed.  And they are more difficult to sketch, since the values are so dark.

Fixing the Peacock

So, I realized with horror that I made a fatal design mistake with the composition of my peacock.  So, I had to figure out a way to fix it.  I realize that I don't like the radial compostion that a fanned peacock would present, as much as a dripping diagonal. That, however, led to my horizontal lines being too median.  Anyway, I worked on it a little today.

Not so sure I am happy with it, now.  The lighting is bad right now, but I tinted the background slightly with red-violet and greens to get rid of the too much white.  I think I may end up just cropping out the below portion of the tale and framing it to make a unique abstract. 

Fun highlight of this coming week will be a visual journal workshop. I hope to get some great ideas to post here.  Another thing I have been meaning to "get to" is making some instructional videos for art techniques and possibly one for how to wear my wrap around necklace.

Altered Journal pages and Peacocks

 Some new pages in my altered book.  This is nothing but therapy for me.  And trying to free up some creativity.  Getting past the mental blocks and all.

And here are the watercolor fowl that I have been working on.  Trying to let the paint do its own thing is a difficult thing for me.  I think its about control.  Anyway, any suggestions, critiques or feedback is appreciated.

Muppet Cure "Boys Don't Cry"

I love this photo..

ἰχθύς Tattoo

Recently, a former student asked me if I would be able to come up with some designs for a potential tattoo.  He wanted a tattoo with the ancient Greek letters  ἰχθύς (icthus).  The early Christians used the Greek word icthus which means fish as a way of communicating their faith.  Icthus was an anagram, each of the greek letters stood for a word which ended up being the phrase :  "Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, Θεοῦ Υἱός, Σωτήρ", (Iēsous Christos, Theou Yios, Sōtēr), which translates into English as "Jesus Christ, God's Son, Savior".  I think that is pretty cool. Thus, the origin of the Jesus fish.  The persecuted christians, when meeting secretly, used the sign of drawing a fish in order to know they were followers of the Way.

Anyway, I have been thinking about how to go about this for a while.  I have been sketching out some ideas. A couple of my ideas are a mix of different types of letters/languages, in a way.   In the ancient early Christian church, symbolic letters and words often were a mix of latin and greek, so I thought that in the same general way, I could try my own hybrid fish. 
  A brief explanation of each of these designs follow:

The first one is traditional, although I did not actually draw the fish shape around the letters, I wanted the letters themselves to form the shape.  I added a hopefully unique tail.
The second is a basic variation of the letters, my own style.
The third was inspired by a Hobbit font.  Instead of using the greek letter Theta, I substituted the English TH equivalent.
The fourth was inspired by the Elder Scrolls font, which is a video game that I know he loves.  Again, I substituted the TH.
The final sketch is a variation of a Lord of the Rings elven font, but with the greek letters only.
I think I will find out if he likes any of the concepts, before continuing, but this has been enjoyable to play around with. 



The Peacock Tree

                                                        

I am getting a little addicted to this blogging thing.  Something has happened recently. For the first time in years, I have the time to read, write, and create (for myself not for a job).

Fortunately Facebook has been boring me, so it hasn't had a hold on me.  That could totally eat up way too much time.   But blogging is another thing all together.  I keep getting all these ideas that I have to get down.  It is like a collection of my thoughts, and all the things I love. 

Anyway, this is my second for the day.  I think two is a little much, but I have been working on this certain project for a week now.  I woke up in the middle of the night with the idea of creating a tree painting which had peacock feathers instead of leaves, or a hybrid of a leaf and a feather for leaves.  So I wanted to document the process, because I often mess up horribly by doing too much, although the last few strokes are what brings it all together.

These first two sketches are preliminary ideas, one of which I drew while waiting in the DMV this week while my husband renewed his license. 

I really liked the second one's design, but it is on cheap paper and the marker I used ruined it.  But I was just playing around with the idea.  It's the journey, right?

Today, I began a new painting.  I sketched the design with  a water soluble pencil on watercolor paper. 

Then, I used a thin black pen to outline.

 I used water colors to add tints of color.  I didn't plan on this being my final, so I didn't use my favorite watercolor paper and that was a mistake.  I took the risk that it would be good, and not on archival paper. 

I added acrylic paints to deepen the color.  I am not a purist.  I tried to stick with only water colors, and then decided that I need to add other mediums and material.  My dilemma with the leaves was whether to have them all feathery, or like leaves with peacock dots.  One of my private students told me I should have both.  So that is what I went with. 

This will be a work in process.  I love my idea, and some of my elements, but I am not ecstatic with the finished product.  I do have to admit, I enjoyed writing about it though.

Schisms and Lyrics

I am appreciative of the musical background that I grew up with.  Classical, Frank Sinatra, musicals, and other "cultured" choices.  Rock music was banned by my parents.

 It was my brother's fault.  Not my oldest brother, Luke.  He was an independent soul, but not rebellious.  He listened to Rush, Kansas, and did not blast it.  He did not annoy anyone with it.  And then he went off on his own, to seek his fortune at an early age.  He was flying planes in Arkansa by the time he was in his early 20s (he actually flew Governor Clinton around).  My second oldest brother, was a little bit more rebellious.  He didn't do anything tragic.  He just had an attitude of rebellion.  He listened to Led Zeppelin.  A lot.  And my parents attributed his rebellion to his music.  He is 10 years older then me, so by the time I became interested in my own music, I had a tough battle to encounter.  Little by little, I discovered music and would introduce soft songs to my mother, sharing the lyrics with her.  She did not see the music as coming between us since we were sharing it.

The first time I heard the Cure was at church.
It was probably the late 80s and there was a  special guest speaker at my youth group.  They had a presentation with clips of different bands and songs (mostly dated) who were satanic and evil.  They played a clip from a Cure song.  The Blood.
I instantly fell in love with the mood and sound.  The Blood is a debatable song, and could be interpreted as being blasphemous.  I discovered a lot of their other lyrics were very poetic.  And yes, my mother and I listened to the Cure and Depeche Mode in the car.  My dad, however, said that it sounded like cheap chinese music and that Robert Smith sounded like he was constipated and in pain.  That is actually funny.
I really like Tool.  I can't listen to all of their songs.  Some of their messages and lyrics go against my conscience, no matter how much I love the sound.  The predominant base and angst ridden vocals stir me.  There is truth in their wailings.  Schism is my favorite song, the lyrics are beautiful with pain, desire, regret and love.

I know the pieces fit cause I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing,
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication.

I know the pieces fit cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it
Finding beauty in the dissonance

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication

Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy sense of compassion

Between supposed lovers
Between supposed lovers

And I know the pieces fit 
Schism - Tool

Wanderlust

This morning, I was packing up some of my beloved books, in order so that I could organize everything better. We are in the process of preparing our house for the market, so the room I have all my art supplies, books, and work table (the office), will become the television room, so that our living room can look more like a family room and not a worship room for the almighty screen.

I picked up my book of Collected Poems by Robert Service and opened to this particular poem. I had not read it before, but it is a prime example of why I love this guy.

 My father would read his poems in front of the fire when I was a kid. Those dark, frigid New York winter nights were instantly warmed by my father's voice reading Service's accounts of adventures in the far north. My father would have loved to live that life, in a distant day. I think if he lived during the time of the Alaskan Gold Rush, he would have journeyed there and lived off the land. I envision him accompanied by a loyal wolf or husky. The wolf would have had a great name, too. Something like Longshanks, I suppose. He would NOT have suffered the same fate as the guy from "Into the Wild".

The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence, -- yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.

Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
          Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has got me . . . by the belly-aching fire,
By the fever and the freezing and the pain;
By the darkness that just drowns you, by the wail of home desire,
I've tried to break the spell of it -- in vain.
Life might have been a feast for me, now there are only crumbs;
In rags and tatters, beggar-wise I sit;
Yet there's no rest or peace for me, imperious it drums,
The Wanderlust, and I must follow it.

Highway, by-way, many a mile I've done;
Rare way, fair way, many a height I've won;
But I'm pulling my freight in the morning, boys,
And it's over the hills or bust;
For there's never a cure
When you list to the lure
          Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has taught me . . . it has whispered to my heart
Things all you stay-at-homes will never know.
The white man and the savage are but three short days apart,
Three days of cursing, crawling, doubt and woe.
Then it's down to chewing muclucs, to the water you can eat,
To fish you bolt with nose held in your hand.
When you get right down to cases, it's King's Grub that rules the races,
And the Wanderlust will help you understand.

Haunting, taunting, that is the spell of it;
Mocking, baulking, that is the hell of it;
But I'll shoulder my pack in the morning, boys,
And I'm going because I must;
For it's so-long to all
When you answer the call
          Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has blest me . . . in a ragged blanket curled,
I've watched the gulf of Heaven foam with stars;
I've walked with eyes wide open to the wonder of the world,
I've seen God's flood of glory burst its bars.
I've seen the gold a-blinding in the riffles of the sky,
Till I fancied me a bloated plutocrat;
But I'm freedom's happy bond-slave, and I will be till I die,
And I've got to thank the Wanderlust for that.

Wild heart, child heart, all of the world your home.
Glad heart, mad heart, what can you do but roam?
Oh, I'll beat it once more in the morning, boys,
With a pinch of tea and a crust;
For you cannot deny
When you hark to the cry
          Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust will claim me at the finish for its own.
I'll turn my back on men and face the Pole.
Beyond the Arctic outposts I will venture all alone;
Some Never-never Land will be my goal.
Thank God! there's none will miss me, for I've been a bird of flight;
And in my moccasins I'll take my call;
For the Wanderlust has ruled me,
And the Wanderlust has schooled me,
And I'm ready for the darkest trail of all.

Grim land, dim land, oh, how the vastness calls!
Far land, star land, oh, how the stillness falls!
For you never can tell if it's heaven or hell,
And I'm taking the trail on trust;
But I haven't a doubt
That my soul will leap out
          On its Wan-der-lust.

Service was a fascinating adventurer. 

http://www.robertservicecampground.com/en/robertservice.html

The most awesome Caspar David Friedrich

Recently, I have been captivated by the paintings of Caspar David Friedrich.  His paintings are nothing short of haunting. His visions of ancient church ruins, as well as lonely souls staring out at sea and mist intrigue me.  A sense of longing, called by C.S. Lewis "joy" tug at my heart while searching his art galleries online.

Here is one I especially like, It is called Abbey among Oak Trees. As I looked for background information, I found out that it is about the splitting of the church during the reformation.  As you look at the details, the message is unmistakable. 

T

This is the companion painting:  Monk on the Seashore.

Another of my favorites is The Wanderer Above the Mists

And then there is Two Men Contemplating the Moon

As always, his worldview/theology is reflected in his work.  He saw nature as a revelation of God.  The  decay and  beauty of nature, as well as the overwhelming majesty seeps through every brush stroke.
It is said of his work that he discovered "the tragedy of nature".  I like that.  The overwhelming beauty and at the same time, the destruction that is inherent in our world both in conflict.

Mr. Fezziwig's Wisdom

It is now several weeks past Christmas, but I was thinking about a particular scene from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
Scrooge is brought by the Ghost of Christmas Past, into his own past, to a joyous Christmas party given by his boss, Mr. Fezziwig.  Mr Fezziwig was by no means rich.  But he was extravagant with his Christmas party.  By setting aside a time for his employees to drink, eat, dance and be merry, he gave them more than just a good time.  He gave them wonderful memories, hope for the future, and over all it was an expression of his heart.  He would take out his fiddle and play while the young people danced. It was one of the memories, one of a kind man who was generous to those he cared for, which helped Scrooge's heart turn to flesh again.

I grew up during a time when both my extended family and church culture was a lot more legalistic than what it is today.  There was no dancing, no drinking, and no mini skirts allowed.
Now, to be honest, there is dancing which is not "good", atleast unless you are married and dance that way for your husband, and then its okay.  There is abuse of alcohol , and some people develop problems and addictions to it.  And dressing inappropriately, that is a whole other bowl of chips.  It is wonderful to know that there are more and more christians who are not getting caught up in these rules and legalism.  These people realize that we are all convicted of what we should do, and we need to be more concerned with our own hearts and lives than other's actions.  However, it is not dead.  Legalism still lives in the hearts of men in every church.  Have you ever felt like this when around religious people?

It is easy to live that way, I guess.   The line of thinking goes like this..."Don't drink, smoke, dance, or go to movies, and I'm good.  I'm going to heaven.  And the rest of those sinners, well, I am SO glad I am not as bad as they are."
The problem with having a list of rules which have nothing to do with morality, or even law or scripture, is that something a lot worse happens as a result.  I will use alcohol as an example.  We all have encountered the person who will not touch alcohol.  I totally respect that decision.  But it should be a personal decision.  We all have our vices.  We all have things which we need to be careful not to allow to overtake our lives.  For some people its food, or lack of food.  I remember reading something by C. S. Lewis where he describes the person who becomes prideful over their delicate palates, and their picky appetites.  This is where I am going.  When you follow rules which make you feel superior to others, it is much, much worse than actually being the partaker.  Even if the partaking is not good for you.
But concerning alcohol, even the Bible does not condemn its use.  Psalm 104 says this :
14 He causes the grass to grow for the cattle,

         And vegetation for the labor of man,
         So that he may bring forth food from the earth,

15And wine which makes man’s heart glad,
         So that he may make his face glisten with oil,
         And food which sustains man’s heart.

That sounds permissible to me.  Let's not forget that Jesus' first miracle was to turn water into wine. And it wasn't the watered-down variety.  It was the good stuff.  Just read the story.

Some of the most loving, fondest family memories I have of recent years are sitting around a feast with my  family enjoying Barbarone (a red Italian peasant wine).   Sharing a bottle of wine with my husband allows us to relax, reflect, and put the worries of the day behind us.  It is a gift!  The ancients knew this.  They thanked their gods for wine and mead.  They attributed the knowledge of creating fermented beverages to a higher power.  They knew life is hard.  Life is pain. Life is full of trials, but alcohol allows us a little bit of joy during the toughest times, and  can help soften the edges of a difficult day.  It can also let us be less critical of others.  This  is from my own experience.  If someone has annoyed me, and I have a drink with them, and talk things out, it allows some sort of common bond to form.  Goes for marriage too.  Most of the things I want to criticize my husband for simply don't matter.  Instead of criticizing him, I have found to bite my tongue and enjoy a drink with him, and I realize he is much more important than a silly misunderstanding or shortcoming.  And God knows my shortcomings are far worse than his.  

I usually do not write much about religion.  The reason is mostly because there is enough people being theological out there, and I have nothing new, fresh, or even very good to add.  This is more of a venting, I guess.

I am just done with "religious" or "spiritual"  people who follow all these rules, and expect other people to follow them.  I am tired of these same people who make others feel inferior, not worthy, or in anyway less of a "christian" because they do not have the same convictions.

I believe that it is much more important to show love,  compassion, understanding and forgiveness.  Who cares if someone smokes?   Or drinks beer?  Or eats ham?  

I am tired of feeling like this: 

(Apologies about the rambli-ness here, my thought process is exactly like this, I don't think linearly..haha)