Getting ready to watch a film, the Girl with a Pearl Earring. I came home from work and after I helped Scott get ready for Dnow in Oklahoma and SNOW, I took a nap. I woke up at 9:30 and thought it was morning. I hate that feeling like who am I and what am I doing here?
Just a fun story tonight. We have so many elderly people come in because it is Richardson and the neighborhoods haven’t turn over quite yet. There is a lady I love who sells Avon. She is a pastor’s wife who is about 75. Every other week she comes into the shop to fax her order in. This week she tells me that since I have seen her last she has fallen into the Rio Grande.
See I like that, a woman after my own heart I tell her. She went rafting with the Senior Center on a trip to Big Bend. The raft hit a rock and she bounced out of the raft into the river. She told me after her rescue her guide said, “I want you to know you went over with a smile!”
That would be me.
Then another lady came in who is more my age. We were talking and I found out her daughter was in the TVAA High School art show at UTD and won an award. That is just exciting to hear a parent talk about the effect the show had on her daughter. She home schools the daughter, but has private art lessons for her because art recently became an emerging interest. The show helped solidify her decision to attend Austin College in art. I told the mom to have her daughter attend the opening next week of Art of the Everyday because one of the artists in the show is a professor there.
I love all these connections.
Art of the Everyday Art Exhibition Opening Reception
Apr 3(6:30 - 9 p.m.)
Location: Visual Arts Gallery
Part II: March 27 - May 2, 2009The University of Texas at Dallasartist reception: April 3, Friday, 6:30 - 9:00 pm
How very weird... that film is my story.
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sunday, September 7, 2008
My weekend in review.
Dinner really did taste good. But the tortilla fell apart when I was dipping them in salsa and rolling them. I had to be very creative. I had salsa and tortilla pieces all over the place. Like between my toes. (the 5 second rule is null and void when food lands between the toes) I wish I had my dog.
I fasted most of the weekend. Did God speak? That is the reason I fast. He did this week in the middle of the week. Said he would deliver me from my distress. That all centers around the job situation. So I am learning to trust.
We talked about money in church. SHOCK. But I was glad because it is on my mind all the time. And I would like to talk openingly about it. I started to tell my parents what is going on with me. I ask for prayer all the time. I get discouraged and upset. I get tired and I can only do so much … so I have to place it in God’s hands.
I worked on my assignments and I taught art then took some photos.
I fasted most of the weekend. Did God speak? That is the reason I fast. He did this week in the middle of the week. Said he would deliver me from my distress. That all centers around the job situation. So I am learning to trust.
We talked about money in church. SHOCK. But I was glad because it is on my mind all the time. And I would like to talk openingly about it. I started to tell my parents what is going on with me. I ask for prayer all the time. I get discouraged and upset. I get tired and I can only do so much … so I have to place it in God’s hands.
I worked on my assignments and I taught art then took some photos.
This is what I drew. It is a landscape, abstracted. Looks like a big eye. I may change it. I dunno. There were two new High School girls that are interested in drawing. I had two moms and four little girls and a baby boy in the second class. Crazy but good. They may have learned something.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Saturday Morning Find
Cloud hidden moon
reappears
in the iris' rustle
I found this in the print out of The International Haiku Contest- commemorating 40 years anniversary of the Modern Haiku Association (Gendai Haiku Kyokia), Tokyo, Japan
This haiku was rejected by the editor I mentioned last time. So who knows what is good or bad haiku.
I also use it in the watercolor haiku moon which was exhibited at the Brevard County (Melbourne Florida) Art Museum's Annual juried show. A big deal for me.
Friday, July 11, 2008
haiku, hands, art... Oh My!
From wind chimes issue 25.
Hal Roth was the editor of wind chimes and became a friend who encouraged me to write. He self published the magazine and sold subscriptions in the little world of American haiku poets that existed in the 1980's mostly consisting of artists, poets and college professors. Some of the presses where associated with universities on that the editors taught most likely literature. My mentor was well respected in this little world and opened doors for me. What I learned was persistence, how to handle rejection, the rewrite and just observing life or allowing life to observe you and catching the moment.
Hidden in a box
autumn leaves
mother pressed
in wax paper
and my longing for home
fog
the road I know
by heart
snowbound
fingerprints
on white walls
I also found a copy of a very nice review of my little book. There were two. One from an editor that was always so hard on me. I was completely surprised. (He was a literature prof., I think)
I was trying to think about the poem I posted yesterday, Recovery, what was on my mind when I wrote it. The hand were me. Although I wrote as if they were another, it was like observing my self... three phases. The bleeding and cut hand was me as I entered recovery. It is a picture of my broken relationships. The second hand being made smooth by the sand is me having my rough edges worn away. I was a rough person when I drank. The third image was when life and warmth began to replace the old and all through the poem images of being in this process on my own and often feeling like I spoke but no one heard. The hand as an image of my being works because of my identity was an artist. I am because I do. I went to the art gallery at Collin College tonight and one of the ladies use the image of hands with the ides of being. I said, "yes" There ya go.
Hal Roth was the editor of wind chimes and became a friend who encouraged me to write. He self published the magazine and sold subscriptions in the little world of American haiku poets that existed in the 1980's mostly consisting of artists, poets and college professors. Some of the presses where associated with universities on that the editors taught most likely literature. My mentor was well respected in this little world and opened doors for me. What I learned was persistence, how to handle rejection, the rewrite and just observing life or allowing life to observe you and catching the moment.
Hidden in a box
autumn leaves
mother pressed
in wax paper
and my longing for home
fog
the road I know
by heart
snowbound
fingerprints
on white walls
I also found a copy of a very nice review of my little book. There were two. One from an editor that was always so hard on me. I was completely surprised. (He was a literature prof., I think)
I was trying to think about the poem I posted yesterday, Recovery, what was on my mind when I wrote it. The hand were me. Although I wrote as if they were another, it was like observing my self... three phases. The bleeding and cut hand was me as I entered recovery. It is a picture of my broken relationships. The second hand being made smooth by the sand is me having my rough edges worn away. I was a rough person when I drank. The third image was when life and warmth began to replace the old and all through the poem images of being in this process on my own and often feeling like I spoke but no one heard. The hand as an image of my being works because of my identity was an artist. I am because I do. I went to the art gallery at Collin College tonight and one of the ladies use the image of hands with the ides of being. I said, "yes" There ya go.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Literature Assignment: Reader Response Three - Personal Coat of Arms
The third Reader Response for my literature class is to read a group of text from our text book, Text Book: Writing Through Literature and create a Personal Coat of Arms. I put my fertile mind to work and decide to take it to the next level or so and do three things. I will create my crest in PhotoShop because I am a graphic designer and that is what I do. Taking it to the next level is what I have learned to do at UTD in Arts and Humanities in the Fine Arts Department. Blame them.
In the readings this week, "Names and Professions" by A. A. Roback, I learn that originally names were a reflection a man’s occupation. So the process I use for this assignment will reflect mine. This process is a traditional way I make Christmas cards. The process is a secret, but meaningful to me. The next thing I will do is blog the whole process. This is another tradition. I blog my Christmas card art whether it is the computer quilt process I am using in the coat of arms or watercolor. I am also going to comment on the text because I am a writer and writers also have an opinion on EVERYTHING.
I am the curious type, so I look up my family crest. My maiden name is West. It is Irish and here is our crest. I thought I might let this influence me.
In the readings this week, "Names and Professions" by A. A. Roback, I learn that originally names were a reflection a man’s occupation. So the process I use for this assignment will reflect mine. This process is a traditional way I make Christmas cards. The process is a secret, but meaningful to me. The next thing I will do is blog the whole process. This is another tradition. I blog my Christmas card art whether it is the computer quilt process I am using in the coat of arms or watercolor. I am also going to comment on the text because I am a writer and writers also have an opinion on EVERYTHING.
I am the curious type, so I look up my family crest. My maiden name is West. It is Irish and here is our crest. I thought I might let this influence me.
From a site called All Family Crests
Significance of colors and animal in the crest
Gold: Generosity
Green: Hope, Loyalty
Black: Constancy, Grief
The Leopard: Valiant and Enduring Warrior
We are to take this simple coat of arms outline. Answer a few questions and illustrate our answer.
First question 1. Something that you feel you contribute to the lives of others.
I decide to use a recent photo I took on my lunch break. It represents the way I see the world. I hope I bring life, beauty, passion and art to the lives of others. I love tulips. They remind me of my childhood in Ohio. Tulips symbolize perfect love. The red tulip in particularly symbolizes true love.
We read from the text about Romeo and Juliet. The text is the famous balcony scene when Juliet laments her separation from her true love. Their names point to the fact that she is in love with her enemy. Romeo overhears her lament and denies his name in order to reveal his love. His name becomes beloved. Ah the dilemmas we call love.
Second Question: Something that you dislike, hate, or find troublesome. This was very easy to decide. I hate gossip. I have been extremely hurt by it. I have to admit it has unfortunately shaped my life. For the most part, for a long time I remind silent. That is the title of this self portrait; Silence. It is what someone should do when tempted to spread falsehood or things they know thing about but have no business repeating.
Third Question: Something you have accomplished.
One of the biggest accomplishments of my life is not something I did alone, but am a part of. I was instrumental in the concept design of a very large stained glass window for my church. I am writing a book about it.
Fourth Question: What is something you really want.
I want to finish this painting. It is called, The Way Home. It is a work in progress. I guess a home always is. I want a peaceful place for my boys to call home whether they live with me or not, a place they can always come home to. I have fought for this, now I am struggling for this. I want them to know that they are loved
Fifth Question: Something that is keeping you from achieving this.
Heaven is our real home and the painting suggests that too. The image is taken from the book of Revelation. The painting depicts the river of life and the tree of life as described in Revelation 22. What keeps us from heaven is what keeps us from peace while on earth. That is sin. Our sins and the sins of others keep us from loving others as we should. Thankfully the way to heaven does not depend on me. Thankfully I can know peace in my heart here and now.
Sixth Question: Jelly beans who are important to you.
Sean, Cassie and Scott
Sean Alexander was named after Sean Connery. We are both a bit Irish. We liked the name and the movie Zardoz. It is a really cool science fiction fantasy. Interestingly enough Sean loves science fiction fantasy. His middle name we thought sounded good with Sean. It is after Alexander the Great. No relation, but we found out later Sean's great grandmother's favorite uncle was Alexander and he was Irish.
Scott Nicholas was names after his father's middle name. We are both a bit Scottish. Nicholas is for Csar Nicholas. We thought it fit with Sean's name. We used to call him Scotty Nick. He was/is adorable.
In the text "From Hidden Names and Complex Fate," Ralph Elllison, like my sons struggle with a BIG middle name. His full name is Ralph Waldo Ellison. A reference to Emerson. It causes him a great deal of confusion as a child. His dad liked to read. As an adult he hid the name with a W.
Monday, March 10, 2008
From my past..........
I wrote this years ago, when God was awakening in me His will for my life. I can look back and see how important this little devotional was. It shows how God spoke to me as a very new believer, how He has consistently continues to speak in a way that is clear to me as an artist. We have a love language that we enjoy. It shows me the need for art ministry to continue in my life, whatever form it may take.
My frame was not hidden from Thee, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth Psalm 139:15
When I paint I often pray. I usually ask for the skill to render what it is I’m painting. It just seems natural to go to the Creator of all things when I endeavor to be creative. I think He understands that part of me.
One afternoon while my young son slept I was painting with watercolors. With a lack of inspiration, I prayed, “Father what would you have me paint?”
It was during this time of my life, I was taking watercolor classes from an abstract impressionist painter named Zoe. It was in that manner I began to just paint, not knowing what it was I was painting, just simply letting go and painting. After a time I stepped back from the colors I had placed on the page. It was with great surprise that I saw the shape of an unborn child and the uncurling petals of a flower appear. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but I went and got a picture of a fetus and during the next few days painted definition into the unborn child and the flower. I called it my fragile flower. I wondered, “So, an unborn child is like a flower ?”
It wasn’t until I was in my garden in the summer heat that I saw the bigger picture. I was planting a border of marigolds. My two year old son Sean was with me. Unknowst to me, he had followed alongside me ripping out each flower that I had carefully planted. Finally, I looked over and screamed “Stop!”
As I watched his countenance fall, I knew I was wrong. “How foolish,” I thought, “those marigolds cost 12 cents a piece, whereas my son was priceless to me.” Then it occurred to me that it is a natural response to be angered when something of beauty, like a flower is needlessly destroyed. But in our time so many without complaint allow the destruction of our own children.
“Lord, I think I understand what you are saying, but why a painting?” It still seemed a little odd to me. He gently replied, “Child, don’t you see, what people value they elevate to art. I want you to show them what I value.”
Today, the painting hangs in the prayer room of a pregnancy resource center in Melboune Florida. The year I painted the watercolor nearly 100 women made a confession of faith in that center, more than any of the large churches in the area.
My frame was not hidden from Thee, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth Psalm 139:15
When I paint I often pray. I usually ask for the skill to render what it is I’m painting. It just seems natural to go to the Creator of all things when I endeavor to be creative. I think He understands that part of me.
One afternoon while my young son slept I was painting with watercolors. With a lack of inspiration, I prayed, “Father what would you have me paint?”
It was during this time of my life, I was taking watercolor classes from an abstract impressionist painter named Zoe. It was in that manner I began to just paint, not knowing what it was I was painting, just simply letting go and painting. After a time I stepped back from the colors I had placed on the page. It was with great surprise that I saw the shape of an unborn child and the uncurling petals of a flower appear. I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but I went and got a picture of a fetus and during the next few days painted definition into the unborn child and the flower. I called it my fragile flower. I wondered, “So, an unborn child is like a flower ?”
It wasn’t until I was in my garden in the summer heat that I saw the bigger picture. I was planting a border of marigolds. My two year old son Sean was with me. Unknowst to me, he had followed alongside me ripping out each flower that I had carefully planted. Finally, I looked over and screamed “Stop!”
As I watched his countenance fall, I knew I was wrong. “How foolish,” I thought, “those marigolds cost 12 cents a piece, whereas my son was priceless to me.” Then it occurred to me that it is a natural response to be angered when something of beauty, like a flower is needlessly destroyed. But in our time so many without complaint allow the destruction of our own children.
“Lord, I think I understand what you are saying, but why a painting?” It still seemed a little odd to me. He gently replied, “Child, don’t you see, what people value they elevate to art. I want you to show them what I value.”
Today, the painting hangs in the prayer room of a pregnancy resource center in Melboune Florida. The year I painted the watercolor nearly 100 women made a confession of faith in that center, more than any of the large churches in the area.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Wish I had some Daylight to photograph this
Origin of sin by Ruth and Scott Eshbaugh
Photocopies repel water and reflex overhead lights, unlike real artwork. O this is real. Scott prismacolor markered the tree. I primsmacolor penciled the sky on the right side to blend with the watercolor on the left. Eve in not pasted down and there is this demensional thing going on. We are very excited about the product and we loved the process and doing it together was great.
Artist Statement
“When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it.” Genesis 3:6a NIV
A decisive moment in the story of mankind; a simple act of disobedience changed us forever. Where was Adam when Eve was deceived? He failed to watch over and protect her, eyes diverted; Adam had one foot out the door as Eve tasted the forbidden fruit.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Eve is Finished
Finishing a work of art is like finishing a fast. Same sensation. Feeling of "it is finished", I have done what was asked. I now set it aside and the evaluation begins. I place the art where I can see it and I look it over and over again. I need some distance. The fast finished, I write, I journal. Maybe I have a conversation and some blanks are filled it. I start a fast with a question. I start a work of art with an answer to a question... or so I think. In the process my perspective changes. As others weigh in it becomes what art was intended to be; a dialogue. Fasting enable a deeper conversarion with the One who sustains us. Art gives us a way to comunicate beyond the ordinary.
So lets converse and enjoy this call we have to create and connect and worship.
Eve is finshed but she is not yet over with as she will be place in relationship with Adam and the tree. 
The tree is being watercolored. Adam will be done in graphite. Although I am tempted to leave it a photo. This is mixed media and I make up the rules. Scott is going to supply the text in tagging and all will be placed in PhotoShop. It will be printed on a Canon copier, both B & W and color. I think also I may take it to Kinkos and go the canvas route I have been meaning to explore. Then one of three versions will be an oil glaze. For that I will need to go to Michael's my drug of choice for a fix; art supplies........ I never have enough. I am sitting here with 3 tins of drawing pencils.
For Scott's contributions to the work we will enter the work as a team submission.
Art is process.. a series of decisions and accidents and ventures into the unknown.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Art In Genesis
Decided to go with the Eve Scott liked.
Eve in PhotoShop.
Making Eve art.
And then I made Scott Adam. Don't let anyone tell you it is easy getting people to model.
I used Scott's self portrait and his idea, but backwards. He said it was escaping sin through new life is Christ. I am making it leaving the garden.
Eve in PhotoShop.
Making Eve art.
And then I made Scott Adam. Don't let anyone tell you it is easy getting people to model.
I used Scott's self portrait and his idea, but backwards. He said it was escaping sin through new life is Christ. I am making it leaving the garden.
You too can be grist for the mill. I can't wait.
He Lifts Me Up, I stand
Life is short but
Not short of miracles
I look over my shoulder
And know
There is no turning back
I set my sights on what lies ahead
I take a hold of his hand
He lifts me up
I stand
Whatever trouble
There has been
He’s been there
Whatever happens
He cares
There is no turning back
I set my sights on what lies ahead
I take a hold of his hand
He lifts me up
I stand
Tell me your story
We’ve been here before
We are standing
On the threshold of
an open door
There is no turning back
I set my sights on what lies ahead
I take a hold of his hand
He lifts me up
I stand
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