Saturday, April 26, 2008
My shortest journal entry ever!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
APB alert! Missed blogger!
Friendship: on-line and off-line.
When your off-line friend doesn't call you for a few weeks, you call them to find out if they're okay. If they don't respond to phone calls, you drive to their house and ring the door bell or walk right in. You have to know if your friend is okay, because if he or she isn't, you want to be the one to help them through whatever malady has taken them away from living their life as you know it. Friends will do that for each other.
But what does one do when an on-line friend doesn't post for several weeks? You return to their journal many times and you see that the blogger isn't posting, as he was in the habit of doing for a few years. So you email him. Or her. A week passes, no response from the email. You reread past posts to find out if there were any clues about a family vacation, or possibly a planned surgery, or other intended hiaitus. You find nothing. Not a word. Even previous emails leave no suggestion that the blog writer would be away for such a lengthy time.
What do you do then? You don't know their real name, you don't know phone numbers and addresses. You just know the story of their life as they have told it in their blog and in subsequent blog-related email communications.
One of the drawbacks of establishing an on-line friendship is that when the person disappears from life, they literally disappear. When they stop posting, how long should one wait before one starts thinking they might be in the hospital, seriously sick? or worse, they're already gone from this world?
I am feeling fearful about our blogger friend, Barry. AKA, Bbartle3, of the aol journal Vengeance. He started his aol journal in 2004 with an entry about reconnecting with a former classmate that he hardly remembered, but was able to find some common memories.
He wrote the following words: "Over time, not only do people die, become incapacitated, or ill, they also store up feelings of having failed, even when there is plenty of evidence of achievement, and growth in wisdom."
I don't remember my first visit to Barry's journal, but I do remember having to read and reread his entries to find out just where he was coming from. It took some work, but I soon figured him out. And now that I haven't seen an alert from him in over two months, I'm very worried.
So this entry is my APB alert... All Points Blog alert!
Has anyone seen or heard from Barry? He's a handsome gentleman in his seventies, has a very young wife (they've been married 15 years) from South America, and four beautiful sons (the youngest is just over a year old, Marc Andrew, and he sings Beethoven!).
I did a few minutes of searching through his archives this morning just for this entry, and found what I was looking for... photos of his beautiful family. Click here for that. and here is another great photo of the whole gang.
I miss Barry's entries, often caustic, always opinionated, and always reflective. You can tell his mood once you get to know him. He's a gentleman at heart... a real gentleman.
Barry, if you read this, how about dropping me or anyone of your journal friends an email. Tell us you are away on vacation in that new car you just bought, or you off to Australia to visit your family. Please tell us something like that! Maybe your oldest daughter (previous marriage) will read this and respond.
I just want to know. Otherwise, I'm thinking you've left us for good this time. I don't like where that thought is taking me.
I'm praying for you, Barry, and your family. I hope this is just a temporary situation, and that all will be well. But I am worried.
If anyone has any inkling of information about the well-being of Barry of Vengeance, would you email me? My email address is bgilmore725@aol.com
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Saturday Thunder, and a memory
Click on the title above for an entry that brings back fond memories. I wrote it back before I had learned how to add big photos to my journal. But you can make them larger by clicking on the words above the photo.
Every time I hear thunder, I think of Mr. Max.
Today I heard thunder during a light rainshower, and the memory of Max hiding in the bathroom came rushing over me. The tears began. I didn't stop them as I remembered. Has it been a month already? Almost.
Marti, of PorchStories, lost her dog Penny yesterday. Please go by and leave her a comment. I know she would appreciate it.
Our Homeless Friend
River is back, writing in his journal!
Some of us have been waiting for nearly a year to see an alert from him. This morning, I found two alerts from his journal.
I had hoped that the reason for his absence was that he had moved from Las Vegas and was able to get re-established with a job and a home again.
He had been homeless for nearly five months, living on the streets of Las Vegas. He had been writing about his experiences there, looking for shelter, food, and helping others who needed the same.
He reminds us that the homeless are "All God's children" as well. I don't know what he's going to write about now, and I'm even a little fearful for him, and for what he will expose as he writes about the fruitless deeds of a dark society.
His story is about relying on others, and relying on his faith in God, to get by. He returns with a mission statement, and now he seems focused on his work.
Won't you drop by his journal with some words of encouragement? He is among nearly 15,000 homeless people in Las Vegas.
He reminds us that not all homeless people are drug addicts or criminals. Many are there because of financial downfalls and have medical conditions that prevent them from working.
It may be no coincidence that the entry number for "Unfruitful Works of Darkness" is 911.
That means what he has to say is very urgent. Take heed, America!
You won't be able to read anything about him in his About Me column, but if you go to his third entry, called Introduction, you will learn more about his vision, his purpose, and his passion.
Welcome back, River!
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Dreamtime paintings by NC kids
Ever hear of Aboriginal artist Clifford Possum? I had not heard of him until a few months ago when I started looking for ideas for classroom art projects. Two of my art classes are working on projects related to the culture of Australia. They've made tag board boomerangs (which I forgot to photograph, but will try to remember to do that this week) that are for show and cannot fly like a proper boomerang, and they're working on paintings based on the style of the Aboriginal Dreamtime paintings.
It's never proper to try to copy an artist's style, or a culture's style, but I do believe it is permissable and even encouraged to take elements from that style and make something new with it. That's where Clifford Possum comes into this story.
Clifford Possum lived from 1933 until 2002 in Australia. He is among the most famous of Aboriginal artists, if not the most famous, for having started a painting style called Dreamtime painting.
He discovered the art form for himself one day in the 1970's when a teacher, Geoffrey Bardon, gave him some brushes and paints and told him (and some other men) to put their stories on canvas. Prior to this historical moment, Aborigines drew/painted their stories on the ground, on bark, and on their bodies. About as permanent as painting in the sand at the beach. The way I understand it, once Clifford learned how to paint on canvas, he encouraged other Aboriginal artists to put their dreaming stories on canvas as well.
This sparking event took place in a "rundown settlement called Papunya Tula".
Clifford soon became recognized in this style of painting which came tobe called the Papunya Tula School, also known as dot and circle painting because of the use of both in abundance throughout the sacred paintings. It took many years for dot and circle style of storytelling to become appreciated by the greater art community.
A dreaming story is a like a creation story, of a family or a tribe of people. Dreamtime stories are individual and personal, and it isn't acceptable for one person to tell another person's dreamtime story.
You can read more about Clifford Possum and other Aboriginal artists at this website called Making Tracks.
What I took from Clifford's circle and dot painting was the circles and dots, and other lines. The students were told to think about the animals they see in their own backyards (North Carolina backyards) and to draw them on brown paper (to simulate the former Aboriginal style of painting on bark) using oil pastel crayons. They had to incorporate the dots, circles, and lines, and any other design element they were familiar with, into their painting. After they had drawn enough to fill their paper, they had to pick one color and paint watercolor over the entire picture.
The one above is mine, the teacher's model. If you've been reading my journal over the past two years, you know we used ot have a koi pond, and turtles, frogs, and all sorts of wildlife were subjects for me to write about. The painting represents a portion of "my Dreamtime story."
But as you can see in the pictures that follow, the students did a far better job with their dreamtime stories than I did.
Now kick back and just enjoy the color and the shapes. The students haven't written their stories to go with the painting... I wanted them to paint first, then write.
Yes, these are the work of children. In 3rd-5th grades. Special Education.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Do not attempt to do this at home with your turtle!
Many of you may remember that back in December, I entered a contest called 'operation turtleblog'. Contestants had to write a blog entry about Koopa the Turtle, then add a link back to the artist's website (turtlekiss.com) where the contest details were posted. In January, I learned that I had won one of Koopa's paintings. Kira and I had kept in touch via e-mail since then, and one day in February, she sent me pictures of Koopa... painting my painting!
I asked Kira, sort of an e mail interview, how Koopa went about his painting business, and how much input she added. After all, I knew someone had to build the canvas, and squirt the paint onto the canvas... that was a given. I had provided input about colors, and Kira used her artistic expertise to place the colors on the canvas in a manner that would, hopefully, prevent the effect of mud. To Koopa, mud would have been the perfect color.
Kira also assured me that she uses non-toxic acrylic paint, and gives Koopa a warm bath after every painting. I asked her how long it takes him to complete a painting, generally. She said about ten or fifteen minutes. You can read more about Koopa and how Kira first discovered Koopa's natural talent as a painter at their website, turtlekisses.com.
I'm a believer that pictures speak more than words, so here are some of the photos she sent me of Koopa at work on my painting.
First the basic layout, using words I had sent. The words are simply a creative way for Kira to add the colors. She also added symbols for the dragonfly and cicada because the words would have been too much paint. '1981' was the year we built our home.
Kira also added colors she needed to make sure there was the right balance of lightness and darkness between the colors. The canvas she painted orange in the middle because if she had added it as a wet color for Koopa to crawl through, most likely we would have ended up with a muddy, brown picture (try mixing orange and blue sometime!). Although, that color would have reminded me of my pond, it was not something I wanted to hang on my wall!
Koopa takes his first step onto the canvas. Notice the word he is standing on. You can tell he's got a plan, and knows exactly where he wants to go. An artist usually starts out with some kind of plan, but as he works, he could possibly change his mind, or discover something about the composition that might look better done another way. I'm thinking Koopa does that sometimes!
See what I mean about a plan? There he goes... this little guy has purpose. He's walked across 'frog' and is heading straight for the word "pond."
Kira told me that often Koopa walks straight across the canvas and off it. She just turns him around so that he'll walk back on again. If I was Kira, I'd be pretty scared at this point.
Here you can see what is happening to that brilliant light blue. You can't really tell how beautiful that color is through this picture. When I saw the actual canvas I could see it had a luminescent quality... it shimmers.
I was looking at these pictures in the email a few weeks before I actually got the painting, and I'm thinking, oh my goodness... what if I don't like it? What will I do? This photo did not do the final product justice. But look at that turtle paint!
Kira sent me a photo of Koopa sleeping beside his heated box-house. You can tell this turtle is well pampered (by Kira).
Before I go on about the finished painting, you must know this about Koopa. He is not doing well this month, and it has nothing to do with painting. Kira is at her wit's end worried sick about Koopa. He won't eat, he won't come out of his turtle house. She took him to the vet, and some bloodwork was done. It didn't sound good.
Here's what Kira wrote in her blog:
"He was treated for a respiratory infection as a precaution, but neither his health nor behavior has improved. Koopa received x-rays, had blood work done, and was tube-fed earlier this week. The x-rays showed nothing unusual, but today the vet called with the results of the blood tests. Koopa’s liver values are elevated, which could indicate cancer, liver failure, or a tumor."
As a result of this diagnosis, Kira retired Koopa. He is no longer painting. She is terribly upset, and I am telling you this because I hoped some of you would visit her website and read her entries. Leave her a comment. She could use the support as she watches her little friend struggle for his life.
You will see his other paintings, the ones that are still for sale. Koopa is world famous, and has painted "827 gorgeous original paintings hung in all 50 U.S. states and 9 different countries. There are only a few paintings remaining to be offered on eBay."
This sad news came about the same time that I learned from the vet that our other dog, Misty, has elevated liver numbers as well. Our vet said basically the same thing: it could be old age, and to be expected... on the other hand if the liver values increase rapidly this month, we are looking at either a tumor or liver cancer. At her age, surgery would be out of the question.
One day, after we got home from our trip to Georgia, this is what I found leaning up against the wall outside our door. I had been expecting it, and before I even unpacked the car, I opened the package.
Below you can see the painting in two different lightings. The first is taken outside with natural light on a semi-cloudy day. The second one is taken inside with flash. Neither one truly shows the beauty of the colors in that painting. There is a layer of varnish on the paint to protect and preserve it, and that's what is giving off the shine. I'm going to keep trying until I get a picture that shows it the way Isee it.
I may need to ask Greg (Photo Trek) for some photographic tips. Help me Greg!
I love my new painting. I titled it "Pondering," in memory of our koi pond which had to be filled in about two years ago. We miss it very much.
The painting is at school in my classroom for now. I've been showing it to my students, and telling them about Koopa. I haven't decided where to hang this one of a kind abstract, but believe me, it will have a home in one of my rooms.
Please go by and visit Kira. All you have to do is click on one of the links in this entry. You might even want to bid on one of Koopa's paintings at eBay.
Thank you, Kira and Koopa, for the painting... I love it!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Portrait of Max
I sat down and sketched my Max today. The way I want to remember him. After I forget all the details of his passing. This is the Max who livened up our home.
I had him for 9 1/2 years, and the only time I drew him from life was long ago, when both dogs were sitting outside in the yard or on the chair in the living room. I don't even know where those sketches are, but I'm going to find it. Most of the sketches I did of them were when they were sleeping... had to get them when they were still. Sometimes they would sit and stare out a window long enough for me to capture them in pencil or pen and ink. Yeah, I have some of them around somewhere. Just got to find the sketch book they're in.
I have drawn pictures of all our dogs after they passed on. Just a few months ago I was thinking I should draw Max and Misty from life, in natural everyday poses. My sketches from life are more lively and spontaneous than the ones I copy from photographs. But I kept putting it off. Never put off until tomorrow... yeah, I know.
I sketched this one from a photograph... except the top of his head was cropped off, so I had to make up what the ears looked like. But I remember my baby's ears. They were my second favorite part to touch, after his head. His ears were the softest, silkiest ears to touch.
This is only the first of many sketches I will do as I work on a larger pencil drawing, or perhaps a watercolor. Something to hang alongside our other pet portraits.
We miss him so much. Today was probably the hardest day because I was home all day, alone. My husband had gone to work, and I was home with plenty to do, but couldn't get up the motivation to do more than write, read, putter about the house, and take Misty out for a walk. It's so quiet without Max's barks and the way he would 'talk' when I petted his belly ... low, soft growling sounds that sounded like speech. Misty doesn't do it like Max did.
While I was looking for a file to save the image of the pencil sketch, I found this picture in the same folder. Max and his soft football. We buried him with that football. Steve laid it beneath his head like a pillow. Sometimes Max slept on it like a pillow. He loved for me to throw that football. He'd leap into the air like a basketball player trying to catch it before it hit the ground. If Misty took it and ran, Max would chase her down, snatch the ball from her, and run back to me with it.
I like to think that he and our other dogs are running around together, perhaps hanging out with my dad, his dog, my sister, my niece, and their dog. I'd like to think he's running across Rainbow Bridge, playing with the other dogs who went before him, wagging his tail, waiting for Misty, waiting for Steve and me.
I'd like to think of Max anywhere other than where he is right now.
I'm still sad... sorry for making such sad entry. I think it helps to write about my feelings just now. I will have happy things to write about again.
