Sunday, October 29, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
(16x20 oil on panel)
Just as I was starting to paint last night I got an emergency phone call. The rest of the evening was spent making calls and praying. This morning I decided to post a painting I did several years ago.
If you have any interest in purchasing this painting, please drop me a quick note in the comments link below.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
HE SLIPPED AWAY
This is a painting of my cousin Ronnie, when he was a little boy. I took the reference photo in the backyard of our farmhouse with my 126 camera. I was just a kid at the time, too (five years older than Ronnie and his twin brother Donnie).
On December 6 it will be 20 years since Ronnie slipped away at the age of 21. I've always loved this painting (maybe because it's of him) and decided to post it today.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
HE WATCHES ME
(5x7 inch oil on panel)
This past Saturday I had the honor of being part of a group of people who were blessed to go to Washington Park in downtown Cincinnati for an outreach ministry. Washington Park is located directly across the street from beautiful Music Hall. In a Cincinnati Post article written by Kevin Osborne the park was once known as the "Queen City's crown jewel." But now according to Osborne it is "a haven for stumbling-drunk winos, beggars and drug dealers".
I've always heard it referred to as the Homeless park. It is surrounded by various social service agencies.
We were there to reach out to the homeless people in the park. Our church has a wonderful bus ministry and Samaritan ministry. Each Sunday the bus goes down and picks up anyone who wants to come to church and the Samaritan ministry feeds them breakfast in the morning, and dinner in the evening. The only requirement is that they attend the service after breakfast, or the service before dinner.
Anyway, last Saturday, we were blessed to be able to give out 200 brand new winter coats to those in need. We also served pizza at the drop-in center.
But, the reason I tell this whole story is to tell you about this one little lady who came to the park that day. She was dancing and having a good time. After Pastor finished talking to the people gathered at the Gazebo, he held the microphone to her mouth, and she sang one of the most beautiful versions of the song "His Eye Is On The Sparrow" that I've heard. Her voice was as clear and sweet as a bell.
The thing that is so amazing about that song is the simple truth of it's words..."I sing because I'm happy; I sing because I'm free; His eye is on the sparrow; And I know He watches me." If God watches over every single sparrow in this world, and not one falls without His knowledge, how much more value are we to Him? Amazing. I couldn't believe how many of these people who had reached the bottom walked up to me and hugged me or smiled into the video camera I was operating, and told me how very blessed they were.
Friday, October 13, 2006
(5x7 inch oil on panel)
This is my brother, Larry. He's ten years older than me. My first remembrance of Larry took place somewhere between my being 2-years and 5-years-old. I know this because, when I was in kindergarten, we lived in the house on Mulberry Street. This event took place when we lived on Stubbs Mill Rd. I didn't walk until I was almost 2-years-old (some kind of problem with one of my legs not growing.) Anyway, I remember that Larry made us (me and my sisters) Superman outfits for our Troll Dolls. I thought he could do anything. I was right...he is a genius!
I went to Bonita's show tonight at Closson's. It was a great show. I met the neatest lady there. Her name was Sue. In September she and her husband will be married 51 years. I found Sue to be fascinating. I hope we meet again someday.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
(7x5 inch approx. oil on panel)
Tonight, my friend Bonita Williams Goldberg has an opening with two other artists, Judy Anderson and Gayle Gillette Hummel at Closson's Art Gallery in Cincinnati, Ohio. If you're in town, check it out. 5:00-8:00 pm (continues through November 5, 2006). Closson's Art Gallery, 10100 Montgomery Rd., Cincinnati, OH 45242 (513)762-5510.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
(5x7 inch oil on panel)
This is my memory of the pond in the backfield of the farm in Lebanon, Ohio, where I grew up. On the other side of the fence was one of Mike Drexinger's fields. My memories of Mike are only wonderful. He was a gruff, little old man, with a thick German accent, who always seemed to have a two-day beard. He lived in the big farmhouse around the bend from our house, with his sister Doris, who was completely deaf. She could communicate very clearly, though.
I remember once we took Doris to see the Cincinnati Reds. She loved the game, but there was a great deal of drama at the stadium. She had never seen or been on an escalator. She was terrified and pretty determined that she wasn't going to start that night. With some coaxing she finally conquered that fear. It was a great night. My mom was dreading it, because our communicator with Doris, Mike, wasn't gonig with us. She was afraid it would be a difficult evening. But, Doris was great. I told Doris I wished that I could catch a foul ball, but she made it very clear to me that it would burn the snot out of my hand. What a great smile she had. She and Mike have been gone for a long time now. But, Good Lord willing, they will live on in my memory.
Murphy, my labrador retriever, learned he could swim, in this pond, on an Easter Sunday afternoon. He's been gone for 5 years, but he was a good friend and companion for 16 years and 11 months.
(10x10 inch oil on panel)
I always intend to take photos throughout the process of a painting. Often I'll take several in the beginning stages, but then get so wrapped up in the painting that I forget to take any more. That is the case here. This is the last photo I took of this painting. In the completed painting, the young man is holding his uncle's accordion.
I didn't paint last night, so I'm posting this painting which is available at G.C. Lucas Gallery.
G.C. Lucas Gallery is located at 4930 N. Pennsylvania St., Indianapolis, Indiana.
Open Tues.-Fri., 10 a.m.-6 p.m.; Sat., 10 a.m.-4 p.m., the G.C. Lucas Gallery represents realist painters from around the country and has the largest selection in the city. The gallery also carries American regionalist works from 1915-1950. Call (317) 255-4000 or email firstname.lastname@example.org.
Monday, October 09, 2006
(2x5 inch oil on panel)
The last time I painted at the Blue Ash Airport by myself, was a very strange experience. I refer to it as the "bread bag shovel" incident. Saturday I was parked in the same abandoned parking lot as I was on that day several years ago. I think of this part of the airport as the plane graveyard. The planes in this portion of the airfield, seem unattended, with grass and weeds overtaking some of them.
So, there I was, seated in the passenger seat of my car, windows all rolled down, keys in the ignition, painting away. Seemed like a great day. Then a man pulled in behind me in a pick-up truck. I felt a little trapped because of how he parked the truck. I would certainly need to do some maneuvering to get around his vehicle.
The fellow got out of his truck, of course my eyes were glued on him in the side mirror of my car. That's when I noticed that he was looking back at me in the side mirror. He walked to the back of his truck and reached into the bed. He pulled out these gloves (I forget now what type they were, but, for the sake of this story, and because I really do think this is true, they were like those
big yellow rubber gloves you use for dishwashing). All the while looking back at me in my side mirror. He put the gloves on and then reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out an empty bread bag. He put it over one of his gloves. He found another bag and did the same with the other glove. Looking at my eyes, looking at his eyes. (Needless to say, now my imagination has totally gotten the better of me. It was almost as though I could hear Bill Cosby telling his Chicken Heart story, only now, it was my heart doing the loud pounding.)
At this point I'd reviewed every conceivable plan for escape and had already decided that since my windows were electric, and I drove a stick shift, there was no way to roll them up, and I certainly couldn't dump all the painting supplies, boxes, etc. and jump over the console wearing a skirt. I was trapped.BOMP-BOMP!!! BOMP-BOMP!!! My heart raged on. (Of course, in my mind, I was calling on the name of the Lord...don't let this guy hurt me, and help me be a witness to him if he doesn't know You.)
The man began to walk directly to the side of the car where I was seated. This seemed to take 30 minutes, but in reality, it was probably 30 seconds. He leaned down, right into the side of my face, and said to me... (Yikes! I can barely stand to repeat it!)...he said to me "Hi! Are you doing a painting of one of those airplanes?"
"Yep, just finishing up!" I answered, voice trembling I'm sure.
"I'm just here to do a little cleaning up around that plane over there." he reported.
"Oh, well, looks like you've got a great day to do it."
What can I say, I've always had a great imagination. But, come on, empty bread bags rubberbanded around the wrist over your gloves, abandoned building and parking lot? What would you think?