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Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

  “Latin is a dead language, it is plain to see. It killed off all the Romans, and now it’s killing me.” – a comment in my high school yearbook from a Latin student classmate

Today's art, from back when I felt I had to sign my paintings boldly.

Today’s art, from back when I felt I had to sign my paintings boldly.

Illegitimi Non Carborundum

As is common in the work place, I one time found myself working with someone who was driving me crazy. Since I loved my job, which at the time was environmental reporter at a 65,000 circulation daily newspaper, and the person making me crazy had the power to fire me, I knew I needed to find a way to cope.

Knowing my frustration, a friend gave me a desk plaque that read: Illegtimi Non Carborundum. If you don’t know what it means, and since I don’t want to make this an X-rated blog, check it out at: http://tinyurl.com/rsbmp

Looking at the Latin saying usually eased the tension in my shoulders so I could do my job.

The funny part of this story is that only the person who could accurately translate the Latin quote, was the person who was “wearing” me down.

Thankfully, he never knew he was why I had it on my desk. He was that kind of person – thankfully.

            Bean Pat:  Velvet Verbosity  http://tinyurl.com/lk9ptjv It’s nice to know that perhaps one day we can stop faking it. I, like this blogger, was quite a late bloomer

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Monday’s Art and Quotes

The rooster walks with intent, wearing indifference as his charm. -- Illustration by Pat Bean

The rooster walks with intent, wearing indifference as his charm. — Illustration by Pat Bean

On Writing

“The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.” – Norbet Platt

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” – Anton  Chekhov

“Easy reading is damn hard writing”. – Nathaniel Hawthorne

 “I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when here was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it. – Ernest Hemingway

 “All good writing is swimming underwater and holding your breath.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald.      

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Wind Against Current http://tinyurl.com/k3mv8dp Fiddling along, crab style. I think these crabs look like pieces of art.

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Chigger

 “I had been told that the training procedure with cats was difficult. It’s not. Mine had me trained in two days.” — Bill Dana

Chigger

Chigger, as I saw and painted her back about 1996.

It was Christmas Eve,  1982, a time when my life was in the middle of major changes.  I was temporarily living in a small, quaint apartment in Utah that I would soon be leaving to accept a new job as regional editor at the Times-News in Twin Falls, Idaho.

Literally blowing in through my door on this cold, snowy night came my son, Lewis, who was on leave from the Army. He was driving down through Sardine Canyon in Northern Utah after visiting friends when he spotted a tiny kitten that had carelessly been set adrift in the snow by some heartless person.

He did what any of my children, who had been taught to love and respect all animals, would have done. He rescued the bit of cold fluff. And now, his cheeks still red with the cold, he dumped her into my lap and said, “Merry Christmas, Mom.” The kitten immediately snuggled herself deep in my heart.

I named her “Chigger,” because later that night, at about 3 a.m., she decided she wanted to play while I wanted to sleep. Since nothing is peskier than chiggers, I decided the name fit her.

She was my companion for the next 18 years.

Bean Pat: The Chase http://tinyurl.com/oavqocr Enjoy fox watching from your armchair. I did. Onion flowers http://tinyurl.com/lt6jy86 Something to think about.

 

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Not Much to Say

Yesterday's art

Yesterday’s art

      I prefer tongue-tied knowledge to ignorant loquacity.” –Marcus Tullius Cicero

Until I Thought about my Favorite Books

I think I have writer’s block. I’ve spent the past half hour writing opening sentences for three potential blog topics, then deleted all the words because I didn’t seem to have anything else to add to the first sentences.

Sky and water study from the past. It's interesting to compare my art. I think my current work needs more freedom from my earlier work when I really didn't know what I was doing.

Sky and water study from the past. It’s interesting to compare my art. I think my current work needs more freedom from my earlier work when I really didn’t know what I was doing.

 

What seemed like brilliant ideas at first simply went nowhere.

.          In desperation, I came up with the idea to share the titles of my 10 favorite books. I actually continued on until I had 63 titles, but these were the first 10 that popped into my head.  .

They were:

“Gone with the Wind,” by Margaret Mitchell.

“The Farseer Trilogy” by Robin Hobb.

“The Help,” BY Katheryn Stockett.

“Pillars of the Earth,” by Ken Follett.

“The Great Santini” by Pat Conroy.

“Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood,” by Rebecca Wells.

“Road Fever” by Tim Cahill.

“Wild America” by Roger Tory Peterson and James Fisher.

The World According to Garp” by John Irving.

“I Married Adventure” by Osa Johnson.

What 10 books would you name off the top of your head?

Bean Pat: Mom, We Did It http://tinyurl.com/pxp25yx An amazing story when so much chaos is going on in this world. It gives me hope for a better future.

 

 

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Yesterday's art and the first piece in a new journal that I have promised myself I'm going to add a daily quick sketch.

Yesterday’s art … a scene captured on the hop. — Quick sketch by Pat Bean

            “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” – Mahatma Gandhi

            ‘If the highest aim of a captain were to preserve his ship, he would keep it in port forever.” – Thomas Aquina

A Journey through the Mind  

Pepper taking a break on the picnic table after a hard run around the dog park. She got groomed later this day.  -- Photo by Pat Bean

Pepper taking a break on the picnic table after a hard run around the dog park. She got groomed later this day. — Photo by Pat Bean

          As a young, but erratic journal keeper, I quickly realized that what I would write one day would not be the same thing I would write the next day. Not only is memory an infallible tool, life changes us every day.

No one puts this reality into luscious words better than Vita Sackville-West in my favorite writing quote:

   “It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.”

While it can be confusing, irritating and even debilitating occasionally, I’m glad my mind, and hence my writing, is constantly in a state of flux. It’s a byproduct of my eagerness to learn something new each and every day, and my willingness to take my ship into unknown waters.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat:  The Return of the Modern Philosopher http://tinyurl.com/m3udejl A very large umbrella solves the problem. This blogger usually has a very upside down view of life. He makes me laugh.

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            “What is the purpose of the giant sequoia tree? The purpose of the giant sequoia tree is to provide shade for the tiny titmouse.” – Edward Abbey

I've seen rainbows almost every day for the past week. I'm glad I took time to enjoy them. This one was seen from my bedroom balcony. -- Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve seen rainbows almost every day for the past week. I’m glad I took time to enjoy them. This one was seen from my bedroom balcony. — Photo by Pat Bean

And We’ve Had Rain        

Flowers pop out everywhere in the desert after a rain, and I tried to capture the transformation in this quick watercolor. -- Art by Pat Bean

Flowers pop out everywhere in the desert after a rain, and I think this old painting of mine well captures the excitement of such a transformation. 

     I finally got caught up on my e-mail, household chores and a few other things yesterday after doing little for the past week but watching old Survivor seasons (recently added to Amazon Prime) on my computer, reading a lot, and walking dogs.

I’m retired, and so I shouldn’t feel guilty – but I do.

I wonder what my purpose in life is these days?  It’s a question I’ve long pondered without coming up with a good answer.

Meanwhile, it feels good to once again have my fingers playing on my computer keyboard. And for today that’s enough. I’ve always found it best to simply live in the moment.

Bean Pat: Write like Han Solo http://tinyurl.com/kkuw8gs I found this to be a thought-provoking blog on writing.

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A Rainy Day in Tucson

      “Poetry is not the most important thing in life. I’d much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha  Christie and sucking sweets.” – Dylan Thomas

I was doing sky exercises with my watercolors, and came up with this one for a stormy day.

I was doing sky exercises with my watercolors, and came up with this one for a stormy day.

And It Captured too Much of my Attention 

It rained here in Tucson yesterday, a hard downpour that pretty much kept up a steady pace from early morning until mid-afternoon. I got drenched twice trying to walk dogs during pauses in the rain. But each time it began raining again before I could get back under a roof.

I  titled this one "After the Storm."

I titled this one “After the Storm.”

I’ve always loved rainstorms, but there seems to be something magical when rain falls in the desert. My neighbor said she watched the patterns of raindrops as they flowed on and off the leaves of the tree that shades her balcony for hours.

I also watched the rain — but only for a few minutes at a time. Even as an old broad, it’s hard for me to stay still doing nothing for long.

Instead, I found myself frequently glancing at the rain out the window that sits in front of my computer, while I tried to do a serious job of line-proofing my book, “Travels With Maggie.” It seemed like a good occupation for a rainy day.

Or maybe not.

I just reread some of what I had proofed yesterday, and found missed mistakes. Some days I don’t think there is an end in sight.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Martha died 100 years ago this month.  http://tinyurl.com/pvoaxsk Who is Martha, you ask? Check out this blog and find out.

 

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Ugly Furniture

“I consider that a man’s brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose.” – Arthur Conan Doyle

Be it a string of berries or a colorful sunrise, Mother Nature always has beauty to share. -- Photo by Pat Bean.

Be it a string of berries or a colorful sunrise, Mother Nature always has beauty to share. — Photo by Pat Bean.

But I Didn’t Complain

            One of the things I told myself, when getting rid of all my furniture and stuff in preparation for living in a small RV so I could fulfill my lifetime travel dreams, was that when I finally settled down again, I would have the fun of decorating my new home from scratch.

I love this photo of my and my daughter, Deborah, taken when she was only five days old -- but not the chair I'm sitting in.

I love this photo of me and my daughter, Deborah, taken when she was only five days old — but not the chair I’m sitting in.

And that’s exactly what I did nine years later, nine years in which I learned that I didn’t need much “stuff,” because I had no room for it. My new goal was not to bring a single item of furniture into my newly rented small apartment unless I absolutely loved it.

I thought about that the other day when I came across a picture of me holding my precious first child when she was only five days old. In the past, all I’ve seen when I looked at this valued photo was a too-young-mother, who was coming to realize she had married the wrong man, a fact she wouldn’t undo for four more babies and another 21 years.

This time, however, I noticed the chair I was sitting in for the picture. That set off a string of different memories.

 

Everything is light and bright, with lots of red, in the nest I've created for myself since giving up the RV life. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Everything is light and bright, with lots of red, in the nest I’ve created for myself since giving up the RV life. — Photo by Pat Bean

Three weeks before my baby was due, my husband had found a new job that would require us to move from Houston to Lake Jackson, 50 miles south on the Texas Gulf Coast. His parents had arrived from Dallas to help us move, but that same night I went into labor. By morning, I was holding my daughter in my arms. We were going to name her Debra Leigh, and I had spelled it out for my husband. Instead,  he signed her birth certificate and named her Deborah Lee.

Then, while I remained in the hospital in Houston, he and his parents moved the few belongings from our furnished Houston apartment to an unfurnished apartment in Lake Jackson. The three of them then went shopping. and bought brand new living room, dining room and bedroom furniture.

I almost cried when I finally saw the furniture, especially the couch and chair, which were a drab, grayish brown plaid that already looked old. But in those days, I kept my feelings to myself. The dinette set was gray with gray plastic covered aluminum chairs, and the bedroom set a plain, pale blonde without any distinguishing features.

I had to live with that furniture for years. But I never complained. I think the latter is the sad part.

Bean Pat:  A little tune http://tinyurl.com/lwg37fc Just a cheerful photo to cheer your day. Mother Nature is so awesome. I hope you always have time to enjoy her. It was her beauty that helped sustain me when I had little beauty to enjoy behind walls.

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Art and Thoughts

           “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” – Pablo Picasso

Chickens and Flowers

            I pretty much gave up painting for the nine years I lived in an RV. Just not enough room to piddle around with it the way I do. I’m trying to get back to doing it these days, Just for the fun of it.

And sharing is part of the fun. I know it’s not great art, but doing it cheers my soul and satisfies my creative side.

 

These hens remind me of the ones that ran around my grandmother's backyard, and eventually ended up on the Sunday dinner table.

These hens remind me of the ones that ran around my grandmother’s backyard, and eventually ended up on the Sunday dinner table.

 

            “If you know sometin’ well, you can always paint it, but people would be better off buyin’ chickens” – Grandma Moses 

Not exactly how I wanted this to come out, but I'm committed to finishing every painting I start, even if it goes in the garbage can afterwards.

Not exactly how I wanted this to come out, but I’m committed to finishing every painting I start, even if it goes in the garbage can afterwards.

And this is the poem I think of when I think of flowers:

 I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

 I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

~William Wordsworth, 1804

Bean Pat Birding Thailand http://tinyurl.com/ksl9p4v Some armchair birding for species not you won’t see unless you travel. There are nearly 10,000 bird species worldwide, of which not quite 1,000 can be found in North America. I would truly like to see all 10,000 in person, but since I can’t this is the second best way to go birding.

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I Love Storms

    “Storms make trees take deeper roots.” – Dolly Parton

"A Storm -- Shipwreck" by Joseph Mallord William Turner. Turner's many storm paintings, like this one, capture both the fury of Mother Nature and her amazing light. He's one of my favorite artists.

“A Storm — Shipwreck” by Joseph Mallord William Turner. Turner’s many storm paintings, like this one, capture both the fury of Mother Nature and her amazing light. He’s one of my favorite artists.

And So Did William Turner

I sat on my balcony two days ago, ignoring the drops of rain that blew into my face, watching as Mother Nature had a temper tantrum. While three dogs, my own canine companion, Pepper, and two I was dog-sitting, all tried to get in my lap at once for comfort, I reveled in the awesome concert created by rain slamming hard against the ground, the sky exploding with jagged streaks of light, and the thunderous claps that punctuated the air.

The aftermath of the storm here at my apartment was a huge fallen branch from a tree that appeared to have been struck by lightning. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The aftermath of the storm here at my apartment was a huge fallen branch from a tree that appeared to have been struck by lightning. — Photo by Pat Bean

As I watched, I thought of Joseph Mallord William Turner, whom I once wrote a paper on for a college art class. This nineteenth-century English painter, whose canvases often captured the intensity of storms at sea, was said to have once tied himself to the mast of a ship so he could fully feel Mother Nature’s fury.

I envy him.

Why, I wonder, do I get such pleasure from something that can, and often does, wreak havoc on our planet? Why do I not cower when lightning lights up the sky and thunder booms its response — as does a friend of mine who literally hides in bed during a serious thunder storm?

One of the favorite memories of my time living in a small RV for nine years, was the morning I lay in my over-the-cab bed at Kickapoo State Park in Illinois as a mountain of rain pinged off the metal roof so close above me. I had never before felt as close to a storm as I did this one.

It was a real doozy of a tempest, too, one that caused the trees surrounding me to shake and sway and bend and dance beneath a psychedelic lightning-lit sky, while overhead the air vibrated with the quaking bass voices of rage.

I loved every moment of it. And now I wonder what that says about me?

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Great old Broads for Wilderness http://greatoldbroads.org/  If you’re an old broad like me, or even if you’re not, you might find this web site of interest. Their mission is one I support. I agree 100 percent with what Edward Abbey said. “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.”

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