Oddly enough, this rather energetic painting springs from the constant tiredness that I have with Grave's Disease.
When I was really sick last year, I spent hours and hours compiling a file of pictures of things that (to me) were super energetic: pink lipstick, Tina Turner, electric guitars, red high heels, neon lights, spatter paintings, etc. etc. etc.
During those long months I was almost too sick to move, most of the time.
Then a switch flipped, Springtime arrived, and I started painting. This wasn't the first painting to come out... it was maybe the fortieth... but it was always waiting in the wings. It is the visual summary of all those pictures I was compiling, and I love it.
If you love it too, you should get a print. Or get a throw pillow, and toss it around the room while you play loud music. I would totally approve of that.
I know, I broke my own rule! This is definitely NOT a painting of the word LOVE, is it??
I painted this at least two months ago, and I'm only just sharing it now. Why? Because frankly my dear reader, I spent a couple of months down in the dumps and joy was the last thing on my mind. It wasn't anything in particular... just a chemical depression from my thyroid acting up.
But you know what? I could have posted it anyway, because there is another meaning to "joy" besides mere "happiness." Ever since I became a Christian, there is an underlying joy which accompanies me even in my suffering. It is very difficult to describe. It is as if all the sorrows of the world were wrapped up with (and offset by) all of the joys of God.
I still suffer all the time, just like everybody else. But the joy is there, too.
If you would like to give someone a little more joy, or have more of it in your own life, why not get a print?
My last painting, Ode to Mary Ellen, was dedicated to my grandmother. It seemed only fitting to dedicate this one to her husband Walter, my grandfather.
He smokes a pipe, and ever since I was a child I have loved the sweet smell of pipe tobacco. It is never foul as cigarette smoke can be, and it is not insistent like cigar smoke. It insinuates and lingers.
Walter (whom we call "Pop-pop") is a deceptively quiet man. Underneath that quiet exterior lurks a shrewd mind and a subtle sense of humor. I am proud to have him as my grandfather.
Maybe you like this picture because it reminds you of your favorite pipe smoker... or maybe you just like the curly smokey lines in it, or the contrast of the blue against the yellow rose. If you like it, why not buy a print?
There is a generation passing away which I already sorely miss. My father's mother, Mary Ellen, was from that generation. She smoked cigarettes, watched soap operas, kept a beautiful and frugal home, read trashy romance novels, cooked wonderfully, loved her grandchildren, dressed with care, and was amazingly, incredibly kind and big-hearted.
Here she is:
Is there someone in your life or in your memories who makes you nostalgic for the coil of fresh cigarette smoke? Or do you just like the misty swirliness of this painting? Either way, you can get a print by clicking this button:
You might have noticed that this is my first post in awhile.
All my life, I have judged people who just lie around the house doing nothing and feeling depressed. Then my thyroid condition kicked my butt again this winter, and suddenly I became one of those people. Also, my stomach hurt and the last thing I wanted to do was art. Waaaaaaahhhhhh! 😭😭😭😭 Poor poor pitiful meeeeeeee! 😰😰😰😰
All of which is a way of saying, "I'm back. Sorry I was gone for so long."
And I am back with a very wistful painting, because this has been a wistful winter. This painting is about wanting to leave and fly South with the geese:
It was inspired by a song which my husband sometimes plays on the guitar, and when he plays it, it is SHEER MAGIC. Alas, I do not have a recording of said magic, because he is camera-shy. So you will have to make do with this version, which is OTT Western:
Imagine that song sung by a guy who sounds like Richie Valens and looks like Ryan Gosling with a beard, and you'll get an idea of why I'm in love with my husband.
As always, this painting is available as a high-quality print. Git yours while the gittin's good!