This week, Throwback Thursday falls on Valentine’s Day, so it’s only fitting that I post a painting of one of my four-legged loves, Champ. He patiently poses for countless photographs and happily tolerates the occasional costume I ask him to wear. If I had even half of his patience, I would be a better person.
“Patience”–Watercolor pencil on Arches Cover
Champ is my ten year old Boston Terrier. He is my loyal ‘studio dog’, my protector, and the perfect traveling companion on my Artist’s Journey. Champ wants nothing more than to sit on my lap or lie at my feet while I draw and paint. He readily poses for photographs or quick sketches, and most recently, he sat for a watercolor assignment. That painting is hanging proudly in the display case at Valencia College. I don’t know if a painting could ever convey the love I feel for him, or the devotion he seems to feel for me. He is my love, my buddy, my boy.
“Guard Duty” Watercolor on Arches Aquarelle
I knew it was coming. I could feel it. Still, I tried to be optimistic. We were behind schedule this semester–maybe we would run out of time. But yesterday, the dreaded assignment was announced: Self-Portrait. I doubled over in pain like I had been hit by a truck while trying to cross a busy street. When I finally straightened up and clawed my way back to the curb, I got hit again as my instructor announced there would be not one, but two self-portraits due next week.
Why do I loathe this assignment so? First, my self-portraits never really look like me. They always come out looking like a generic version of someone who slightly resembles me. Second, the self-portrait demands careful scrutiny of my aging face. I am forced to study and record every wrinkle, age spot, and imperfection that I try so hard to disguise each morning as I sit in front of my make-up mirror.
The younger generation doesn’t seem to mind the self-portrait. They still have flawless, taut skin that is just beginning to tell its story. My face is an epic novel, telling of love and loss, missed opportunities, blistering summers on the beach, and parenthood. There are hundreds of subplots that weave in and out leaving seams around my eyes. My face tells the ongoing story of my life. It’s all there–the good, the bad, the exhilarating successes and devastating failures. The lines on my face are born from both the happy times and the sad. So today I will pull out my mirror and work on the cover art for my novel. And while it will hint at the stories inside, no one will ever fully understand the countless pages of my life. It’s a good read. I’m only half way through and I just can’t seem to put it down.
“True Colors”– a self-portrait in progress–oil pastels and watercolor on Arches Aquarelle
Last weekend, I crossed the country, bound for Disneyland California and a sprinkling of West Coast Pixie Dust. While I usually pack my pencils and ‘The General’ (my favorite eraser), on this trip there were stowaways in my carry-on tote. A travel set of Winsor & Newton watercolors and some roller ball ink pens accompanied me on my journey. I couldn’t record this trip in black and white. I needed color!
Disneyland was a bouquet of inspiration for the senses. There was something truly magical about being bombarded by so many delightful sights, sounds, and smells. I was enveloped in a bubble of happiness where words like ‘diet,’ ‘excess,’ and ‘restraint’ don’t exist–A world where chocolate can be consumed in mass quantities without guilt and wild raucous laughter is completely acceptable. I didn’t want to leave, but reality tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me that I had duties back home. It was time to return to the land of housework, humidity, and homework. Besides, every great journey has to come to an end before you can begin a new one.
“Bubble”– watercolor–inspired by the magic and wonder of Disneyland
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