There is something so soothing about simplicity.  

​Clear spaces, harmonious colors.  

My shop has been feeling cluttered and crowded for a while, so I have cleared it out.  Difficult to navigate, so I have pared down to three categories.   The Serenity series is entirely new, with its simple color palette and real gold leaf.  The paintings evoke peace and tranquility.  

The Hope series highlights the beauty and wonder that is found along the journeys of our lives,  and a looking beyond this present world. 

And then there is the familiar and loved Courage series, which is what I'm calling my bark and leaf paintings. 

My Etsy shop now has a sister "Pattern" shop which has a cleaner interface.... any click on my "Shop" tabs will take you there.  They are linked, so it's totally a matter of preference which you use.  But I like the clean, classy look of the Pattern shop.

I'm left with about 20 paintings that don't fit in these three series.  They will be sold by Facebook auction, and I'd love to have you join me there on January 31- February 2.  Fifty percent of the  proceeds go to The Morning Center, which provides free and compassionate prenatal and postnatal care for Memphis women, and they would love to expand to other cities.   

Myself, I'm thoroughly tired of political talk.  I'd love to be able to do something to actually help someone.  To ease the path for someone who doesn't have many resources of her own....to do one tiny thing to help.  Want to join me?  Click here to join the Facebook Auction  

I guess you would call this a confession.

When I went to visit my sister, I admired her wall of art.  She has a small collection of both prints and originals.  Charming works that she has found here and there, works that spoke to her, or tickled her fancy, and she bought and brought them home.

My husband is not what you would call an artsy guy.  He appreciates fine art, in moderation, but spending time browsing  galleries isn't something he would do, unless it was to make me happy.  Yet when we got married, he brought to our marriage an original work of art he bought from the artist.  He told me once that he would rather have an original from a lesser known artist, than a print from a famous one.  Whatever it is that makes an original work of art special, he recognizes it and appreciates it.

But me?   I have never bought a single work of art.   I am not even sure that I have ever bought a print directly from an artist.  From a yard sale, maybe.

I have thought about why, and I think it comes down to identity.  First of all, I was brought up in a home that had to pinch pennies, where every cent counted, and original art was definitely a luxury and not something we could afford.

But my sister grew up that way, too, so that can't be all.  Somehow she made the shift in her mind from"luxury I can't afford"  to "luxury I can afford", but I didn't.

I am not sure why.

Maybe it is because she isn't afraid of prejudice.  She isn't afraid of people thinking that she is snooty just because she collects art.  She simply isn't snooty, and that is that. 

Or maybe it is because she is humble.  She knows that even though she is perfectly capable of making beautiful pictures, there are other artists out there that see the world differently and do what she cannot, who can give her a piece of the world to appreciate and love that she would be missing otherwise.

Maybe it is because she truly loves art and wants to makes sure that more art gets made. 
 
Maybe it is because she is smart.  She can see that original art is special, that there is something to it that can't be duplicated in a book or even in a print.  The paint interacts with light in a way that ink never can.  The touch of the artist comes along with the original work.

Whatever it is, I think she is right. 

Ship painting that my husband bought before he met me.

What farmer is there that refuses to buy food?  An author, perhaps, that refrains from buying books?  If I want to call myself an artist, then it seems to me that buying art should be part of my identity.

From this moment on, I am setting aside a part of each sale for buying art.  I am entering the art market, looking for something special to me, from an artist that isn't too famous for me to afford.  And it's a lovely feeling.

Last week we got to take a road trip, to surprise my sister Theresa for her 40th birthday.   She was surprised!  She and my sister Raquel and I were able to spend some precious time together.

So did our kids...it was fun to watch the cousins playing together and taking walks to the library.

I enjoyed snapping  pictures outside of my usual rural habitat.

And we took time to seriously ponder some artful whimsy.  Behold the Octopotomus!   Yes, my sister is as much fun as she looks to be;   and she knows and understands me so well!    Love you, TC!  Looking forward to surprising you on your 80th.....

There is a little tiny girl who was born the same day as my little baby.  She was born far too early, weighing not even two pounds,  and her lungs are still fragile and undeveloped, even at three months of age.  I know she has been borne up by  prayer, but I also think she must have some spunk to hold on to life the way she does.    It was my privilege to draw her portrait without the tubes and medical things that have tethered her all her short life.

The rest of us have our own battles to fight.  Yesterday, as I thought about what I wanted to paint for a journal type page, I thought of the words, "Courage, dear heart."  I think I remember Aslan saying something of the sort to Lucy, his lion breath strengthening her.   Life has a way of making us tremble in our boots.  It can be such an effort to keep taking steps, to push through weariness and pain and fear.  We need strength that is not our own, some breath of the Lion of the tribe of Judah to give us courage.

Even though there are times of happiness and ease in a life, more often it seems there is a hidden part that looks sadly out the window at the rain.

When I count all of my blessings---so many!---it is a wonder to me that I can be so dragged down by the mundane details of life.... the children's disagreements and disgruntlements,  the chores that pile up,  the way the kitchen cabinets seem to be falling apart a little more every week....

This week has driven me to Jesus' feet, to throw down a few cares there.  There is no better place to be.

This week I did this mixed media piece of my husband... another sketch over collage with accents of paint.

On the left is my first version, which looks very much like him but seemed a little off to me. 

Below is the same picture with a few small changes that make it look much more like him... mostly adjustments to the bridge of his nose and the shape of his head.

Also, there is a bluish cast to the photo which I rather like... but it is not accurate to the original!  He is a blue kind of guy. 

Earlier this week my sister, who lives in another state, posted on Facebook  that she wanted daisies.   I happen to have a lot of daisies, and I wrote,  " I wish I could blow you daisies like kisses."  That inspired the painting that I have begun below.

I plan to have this lady blowing roses, daisies, and maybe a few other kinds of flowers to a loved one.  Getting the look of someone blowing is a challenge, but I am working on it!  Another example of tiny changes having huge artistic consequences!

"Mommy, when are you going to paint a picture of me?"

It's hard being a middle child.   You are slight, softspoken.  I am busy, so much to try to keep in my mind before the next thing.   "What did you say... I can't hear you."

May is the month when spring comes into its own in Michigan, the month that my husband and I were married, the month the trilliums bloom. 

This time of year I usually take long exploratory walks, drinking in the brief season of trillum bloom.  In places it feels almost like fairy land to me.

My inspiration was to put several of these loves of May into one painting.....and the beautiful words from Song of Solomon that only grow more meaningful for me as the years go by.

The long darkness, cold, and confinement of winter bursting suddenly into the warmth, beauty, and freedom of spring.
The sweet surprise of love after long years of loneliness.
The fading away of this sad world in death, and awakening to the joys of heaven to be greeted by the Savior. 


What could be better?