Thursday, July 23, 2015

Treasure

One Man's Trash is Another Cat's Treasure

Hey all you flea market junkies, thrift shoppers and garage sale addicts out there! Are you the type who can't walk past a great bargain or a see the potential in something that can be repurposed? Do you worship the junker's patron saint, Fred Sanford? Or do you just love to see old objects live out their lives 'til it hurts?
Illustration Friday posted the word and "One man's trash is another man's treasure" immediately came to mind. Not admitting guilt by any means...Ahem. But do you understand how the concept of spring cleaning can morph into a four season, life long affair?
Gotta go now- I have to throw a few things out today. Swing by and see if you'd like any of it! ;o)

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Garden

Hanging Around In The Garden
I've been thinking (again). And sometimes that can be a dangerous thing. 
This week over at Illustration Friday, they posted the theme, "Garden." That's a nice word, conjuring up images of lush, beautiful green spaces, happy scenes of watering cans and pretty flowers. I've done some of those illustrations for various products over the years, but they won't appear here today, as they're mostly tucked away and covered up in the past tense now.
Excited as I was about this theme, I sat down and quickly banged this one out, but it sat on my desk for most of the week once the nagging doubts began. ("Why did you put THAT in it?" "You shoulda..." etc.) I struggled with the decision whether to even publish one this week. But really, this little watercolor might be more representative of the word "garden" for me. Not as a noun, but a verb. 
Gardening here at my place means planting, weeding, watching, watering. OK, maybe not so much watering during this drought! 
In the years I've been here tending my little patch of landscape, it's been a process very much like painting. Sometimes things just work and everything's beautiful, and sometimes the results are haphazard with much less success than anticipated or hoped for. But all in all, it's always an effort or expression that nobody else will approach in the same way. Sometimes it has to be done quickly, down and dirty without any real instructions or recipe for any of it. It's ongoing trial and many errors, and that in itself is what brings the joy. 
Here's a sampling of a scene from my backyard, just throwing it out there like nobody's looking. This isn't the Garden of Eden- no need to be embarrassed for me. That "shame" thing isn't going to work on me today!

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Sharp

Sharp As A Tack
Late spring and early summer have taken me here and there and everywhere. With many family obligations to meet and related opportunities for tasks, to do's and related errands, there's been a lot of multi- tasking in the way of happiness, sadness, hellos and goodbyes, much soul searching in mind but not a lot of "free" time for just staying put, blogging or participating in the weekly Illustration Friday challenges.
On one of the trips I recently took, I had the opportunity to take my dad to visit his aunt, a retired schoolteacher who celebrated her 100th birthday earlier this spring. As the younger sister of my grandmother, there was a noticeably strong family resemblance. Even her soft voice reminded me of her. We couldn't stay for too long, as it was difficult for her to speak, but her quick responses to our questions and comments made it as clear as her blue eyes, that her mind was as sharp as ever. Up until recently, she was still able to drive around town, and wasn't relying on glasses in order to read during our visit. So mentally alert, with a complexion smooth and unlined for a woman who's seen so many changes in a century, I'm guessing there's something good in the water that she's been drinking, or could it simply be years of wholesome living in and among small towns and farms that compose the prairies of the midwestern US?
Whatever it is, I doubt I'll ever discover her secret for longevity. But one thing's for sure, that listening to my dad's detailed accounts of incidents that happened so long ago, there is at least a family gene for memory, tucked somewhere deep in the creases of our brains. Hopefully, I'll be as alert and retain the ability to edit some of what's been stored in mine, if I'm ever as lucky to be so blessed with a long and fruitful life!