Friday, March 8, 2013
Two of my latest paintings: New idea: Paint one conventional painting and one with my own imagination. Thus, everyone could be happy. As I have a few collectors who love the conventional paintings of local scenery and then, a lot of friends who just want me to paint my own wild and colorful stuff.
The canvases are the same size and took about as long to paint.
Realism is a challenge and maybe some of my art spirit shines through; maybe not; for the beach camping painting.
Next I may try the same scene in two ways. To render it realistically and to create it with imagination.
I always called them stolen days: those days that are wonderful; where you somehow end up having an exceptional day; often outside; often with a good friend.
This was one of those days. The weather was exquisitely beautiful. After some rain the valley greens.
This is the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy land down in what is called the river bottom. There is a river and it is running through a large valley. Often and for months it is dry.
There is an abandoned orchard of orange trees and we picked a bag of them to make sweet juice.
There was hardly a soul down there until we were leaving and then the horses started up the trail.
Monday, October 22, 2012
A perfect day in Carpinteria.
This is where we spent some of our childhood summers in a little rental by the sea. There were six cottages in two rows of three. Most were summer rentals but one family lived there year round.
Scruffy little houses with linoleum floors and old furniture. Lots of places for people to sleep...
It is still called The World's Safest Beach.
Down to the snack bar with a little change to buy a snow cone.
The carnival came to town on Labor Day. Throw a ring around a quarter and win!
The Spot is still there with the usual snack bar offerings...still there after at least fifty years...
A sweatshirt, a few pairs of Horgan shorts, a summer hair cut (called a pixie then), a rubber raft...and we were set. I can't remember what we wore on our feet. Maybe we went barefoot!
Bologna sandwiches or tuna or peanut butter and jelly; always on white bread. Best Food's mayo, never Miracle Whip. Potato chips. Fruit?
Parents and their cocktails at happy hour...
Idle hours lolling in sand dunes. Listening to the Kingston Trio...how old they were to me then...Did he ever return; no he never returned. And his fate is still unknown. He may ride forever neath the streets of Boston. He's the man who never returned...
Peggy, my mother's friend, playing her guitar..Maryann O Maryann o won't you marry me; we could have a bamboo hut and whiskey in our tea. Leave your fat old mama home; she never will say yes. If mama don't know now. She can guess. (It is only recently that I understood those lyrics!)
Reading True Confessions looking for the good parts, never having been kissed ever yet.
Hours in the water...still rocking on the sea when you go to bed in sandy sheets.
Fathers coming up on the weekend after their work is done.
Your turn for a shower. Breck shampoo and some soft detangler going through your hair that Mom mixed with water in a plastic cup.
Then home and back to school. A few new things to wear and some paper and pencils. Leaves turning.