A Work in Progress

Through no one's fault but my own,  I lost myself for a while.  For several months I spent all my time cooking,  cleaning, redecorating - all good things to do; but, also all things that can never be completely done... And so, each day I would think I could finish my "to do" list, only to find that I had added even more to the list.
Finally, Sunday morning I woke up refreshed after the Sabbath day's rest, quickly got as many chores done as I could, and got my paints out.  I hadn't painted in so long that it took me a lot of time to find all the supplies I needed.  There were a few moments of frustration when I wanted to forget the idea and go back to the laundry, the dishes, the dusting...  But, no!  I persevered, and, with great encouragement from my Hubby,  got all my watercolor paraphernalia together on the big dining room table. (Covered, of course, with waterproof pads!)
I worked on four projects simultaneously, which is my usual habit. With watercolors, one has to wait for layers of paint to dry, etc., and it makes no sense to sit around waiting.  So, I work on at least two projects, alternating time between them to get the most out of the chunk of time I've allotted myself.

Project #1: My favorite flowers are daisies.  I decided to paint daisies kind of free form, with the background defining the flower shapes more than the subtle painting of the petals.  As usual, my impression/expression of white is that white isn't white! So, the "white" daisy petals are various shades of blue, teal, lavender and yellow. I poured the dark greens and browns to give the impression of stems and leaves, allowing the paint and water to  create the organic shapes through gravity and the chemical reactions of the paints with each other.  I added a bit of "lace" to one side for textural interest. I temporarily have this painting in a black matte, but think it would look better in a brown or green one... will experiment with that today or tomorrow...

Project #2: I made a collage of several paintings, chopped and rearranged until I felt they were pleasing to the eye.  I titled this one "Dreams of Summer Recitals".   It took me back to when I lived in my big ol' house and taught piano and singing lessons to a handful of boys and girls.  The two main paintings are impressions of my old living room with the baby grand piano, where many a recital was held.  I added other dreamlike shapes and forms - a big open Hibiscus to represent Summer in the South,  pieces of architectural columns to commemorate the old house.  I don't know if anybody else does watercolor collage, but I enjoy it.  If a painting sits around long enough, it becomes fodder for "the chop shop".  The first time some of my former art students saw me chopping up paintings, they were mortified,  AND, piecing things together "just right" takes a lot more time and patience than one might think, but the results are pretty cool.

Project #3:  Another chop shop project.  I love chopping up old paintings into squares, then putting the squares together in and interesting and balanced manner.  Again, this takes a lot more time than you would expect.  It's like finding just exactly the right puzzle pieces to fit together, but the puzzle doesn't have "edges" and doesn't form any certain image. It's all about balance.  In this case, a completely different background made this piece very exciting to me.

Project #4:  This is a little painting in progress.  I decided to show something incomplete in this posting, to show the steps of working on a painting.  First, I took the photo; then cropped it and sketched it on the watercolor paper.  I wanted the painting to look cold and Wintery... haven't decided yet whether or not I've accomplished this, but, hey, it's not completed!   So far this painting has a couple coats of paint, with a salting of the water in the stream between coats.  Salt on watercolors created certain textures, depending on which paint the salt is sprinkled on. Watercolor painting is really chemistry and physics as much as it is having an eye for color, balance, and composition... perfect for me with my medical background.


Hope y'all enjoyed this glimpse into my viewpoint on creating art.  Some time soon I will be creating yet another blog - focusing solely on my art. (Or, should I say "soul-ly" on my art?)  A psychologist I  once knew said that the only difference between pain and paint is one letter... He was right.  Looking at that blank white sheet of paper is always painful. At first.  But, then... ohhhhh.. the escape into creativity.

Shalom  Y'all - Twyla

I Don't Know How She Did It!

     Last night I went to bed cold and hungry.  I could have found something to eat that fits my current dietary restrictions  (no sugar, no corn, no gluten), but chose to be disciplined instead.  The cold is another matter... We have the wood stove, but it simply will not heat the entire house; we knew that when we got it.  We keep the central heat on automatic, with the thermostat set at 60 degrees.  Now, sixty degrees is a might chilly...  We also have an electric blanket, so I usually pre-warm the bed.  But, last night I just couldn't get warm, couldn't get comfortable, couldn't sleep.  CassPurr tried to comfort me with his wonderful purring in my ear, but I still couldn't sleep. Moshe was snoring like a freight train, so I knew he wasn't going to participate in  any conversations any time soon...  So, I thought and prayed.  Prayed and thought.  Tried to think of everybody I know... what does he or she need from God.  I prayed for our country.  I prayed for our finances;  we, like so many people nowadays, are struggling to make ends meet... What will become of us?

...an accident from the 1930's...

     But, before the above-mentioned  "freight train" arrived, I mentioned to Moshe that I'd been thinking about my grandmother, and I just don't know how she did it. She lived on a farm in Michigan.  She was widowed at an early age; had several children to take care of.  Lost two children in an auto accident in the 1930's. (That must have been one of the earliest auto accident fatalities, no?)   She brought up those children during the Great Depression. She must have done a wonderful job, because my Mom says that their childhood was "just like The Waltons" - they even all had red hair!  Mom would've been the equivalent of "Elizabeth" - the youngest Walton girl...

The Waltons

 I never knew my grandmother all that well.  I saw her once a year at most until she died when I was sixteen. Whenever I saw her, she was cheerful enough.  Not overly talkative, but pleasant.  She ALWAYS wore a dark, printed dress with a full apron over it. Her hair was kept up in a rather untidy bun; but, a couple times I saw her brushing her hair out in the morning... It seemed like it was a mile long to a little girl - especially a little girl with short hair.  Her hair had been red when she was younger;  by the time I knew her, it was white like mine is now... with some dark hair in the back... just like mine.
      Minnie Harper.  A good country name.  With children's names such as Elva, Luella, Milo and Louie - to name only a few out the ten she bore.  They are all in heaven now, except my Mom.
  

corn crib,barn, and a few of the "aimless chickens"...

     But, how did she do it?  She lived in a big hand-built, fieldstone house. She never did get that indoor plumbing.  She had a pump, which, when properly primed, would supply one end of the kitchen with cold water. In her later years, different sons and daughters offered to build her a bathroom, but she declined their offers every time.  They got her a TV, but the only time it was  on was when company turned it on. When it was on, she would leave the room.  I remember her saying, "Those people on there can look right up my dress."  The family insisted that she have a phone, and someone got it installed for her.  She would answer it, but never once placed a call. She cooked, baked bread, and heated the house with two wood stoves. (Actually, I think one of them was a coal stove, come to think of it.)  She had dozens of chickens, which wandered aimlessly throughout her property... Hence, there wasn't a blade of grass to speak of in her "yard".

Grama's quilted pillow, alongside my Mom's doll, Tracy

   I remember when she had milking cows in the barn, and a mean-looking bull, which we kids were told to stay far away from. (Steer clear of the steer, dear?)  There were cats, but not the friendly kind like I had back home.  And she always had a dog.  I don't know how many dogs she had over the years, but it was always one at a time, they were always big brown dogs, and they were all named "Pat". The first "Pat" I remember was really smart and he knew how to turn the doorknobs and open the doors;  we kids thought that was just super-neato!

     In her "spare time" she quilted.  I have a couple pieces of her work, and they are treasures to me.  Completely hand-stitched; she didn't own a sewing machine.  I think she embroidered some, too, although I don't have any mementos of that.
     Amazing. I'm sure she read quite a bit. I never heard a radio playing in her house, although she may have had one.  She had a piano, but I never heard her play it. (Usually, it was locked when we visited... I was always insulted by that, because I actually played well. But, I guess when you're expecting a passel of kids, you'd be wise to lock the thing up before they all thought they should pound on it!)

     Of course, we always visited in the Summertime. I can't imagine how cold it must have been in January or February.  The closest house was a couple miles away, and the closest relative was about ten miles away.  She didn't have a car, but family took her to town "to trade eggs" every week or two.  There was an apple orchard, and fields of corn, wheat, etc, which my Uncle Louie cared for when I was growing up.  But, before that,  I can only guess that my Grama had to do it... Her and her children.  Wow.  How  DID  she do it?
  

some of my teacup collection

     It was a treat to be allowed to play upstairs at Grama's house.  There were two or three bedrooms up there, plus a little alcove where I loved to play.  I played with miniature china - real china - that had been my mother's when she was a little girl.   I still have one cup and saucer from that set!  Can you imagine?  In my later years, I started collecting cups and saucers.  I used to have two or three times as many as I do now... gave a bunch away, and sold a few as well.  Some are very ornate, some are probably valuable; but, the most-treasured one is that simple white miniature cup and saucer that somehow survived all these years...
  

the little teacup, alongside a "fancy" one

     When Grama died, the family put out the word that anyone who wanted anything should lay claim to it.  I told my Mom that I would LOVE to have one of Grama's old black rocking chairs.  I remember there were a few of them, all lined up in one room, alongside a couple of sofas, a daybed, the piano - it was a BIG room!

the old rocker, near our pot-belly stove...

      Mom got me that rocking chair and I still have it.  Decades ago, I stripped off the blackened varnish, to discover gorgeous golden oak.  Mom said she found out later that nobody took any of the other rockers... I can't imagine why.  It seems a shame, but when the property sold, the house was full of old rockers, china cabinets,  beautiful chiming clocks, probably the huge upright piano...with its' key.
  







 So, how did she do it?  I can only surmise that she had faith in God.  And, that God saw her through those many years, provided for her, cared for her, loved her, cheered her.
     And He will do the same for me - even when it's cold and I am hungry.



         Shalom  Y'all - Twyla

Once A Bunch of TIme...

this is about a week's worth of wood

  
      Another busy day.  It takes a lot of energy and organization to live our lifestyle.  Moshe spent a good bit of the day  pulling, chopping, toting, splitting, and carrying wood for the wood stove.  (Hope I didn't inadvertently leave out any verbs... There's a LOT of work involved in keeping up with the wood supply.)
I spent the day doing various things, including all the mending which had piled up over the past few months.  Of course, there were the usual chores... cleaning, mopping, doing dishes, laundry, cooking. 
     We had an awesome lunch in the midst of our toils.  Moshe picked a huge amount of cabbage yesterday afternoon.  He chopped it up for me, and I cooked it in one of my canning pots, adding sauteed onions and garlic, and a little bit of olive oil.  Most of it went into containers and into the freezer, but I kept one mess of it - probably about a quart or so - and added some sauteed turkey bacon.  I let this simmer all morning, and we had it with baked potatoes.  Who would've thought that cabbage could be so tasty?

"Recital" - my watercolor, based on my old living room where we had piano recitals

    
     I had wanted to redo the living room today - change the decor to Winter - paintings, candles, etc... but, I ran out of energy. There never seems to be enough energy.  Even though this living room is a fraction of the size of my old one,  the task was daunting.  Maybe Monday... "Once a bunch of time" - that's how my daughter, when she was four or five years old, started stories that everybody else started as "Once upon a time"...
     Once a bunch of time I had lots and lots of energy.  Really, more energy than just about anyone I knew.  I worked more than 40 hours a week - often 60 hours or more - yet, still managed to keep up with a really big house,  garden nearly every day, and do art and craft projects. Oh, and I taught piano and voice lessons.  We had recitals four times a year.  I started walking for exercise, then one day decided to run!  So, I ran and walked... walked and ran.  Every day, in addition to my full schedule...
     And then along came fibromyalgia and lupus.  Followed by a stroke.  The fatigue, oh, the fatigue.  And the depression that goes along with it.  But even so, God took something that "the enemy" meant for evil and turned it into something good.  With the slowing down of my body came a speeding up of my spiritual quest.
I don't teach lessons any more, but there are still many, many lessons to learn. And so,  "I press toward the mark for the prize of high calling of God in Christ Jesus." (Phillipians 3:14)
                Shalom Y'all - Twyla