It's not polite...

Two bald face wasps let me know they didn't appreciate my attempts to draw their nest building.  Of course you can't outrun them, but I sure did try. Theirs was to let me know to back away.  Word travels fast in the insect world as shortly thereafter a grasshopper aggressively aimed for my glasses while I was sketching him. His aim was perfect and it stunned me that he could have such impact for his size.  There are times when nature is bold in letting you know it's not in the mood to be drawn.

But then I do wonder if we share this "gaze awareness" with the animal kingdom.  I thought I'd discreetly draw some of the travelers in the airport, but it seems most people can sense when they are being watched. There's a frown that usually follows to let you know it's not polite to stare.

There's a variety of articles about gaze awareness, but I especially liked this one. It does leave me wondering if it might be better to stick with sketching nature--but then only the meekest critters.

An Invitation

"Do you want to see heaven?"

Our first day visiting with the grandchildren and they were offering us something that we couldn't pass up.

There's a narrow side window with a wide ledge in their bedroom and carefully arranged within was "heaven": a statue of St. Joseph and the child Jesus; a tiny nativity set with figurines, a small statue of Our Lady of Lourdes,  St. Francis, and a two-inch high replica of the Pieta.  There rested holy cards that were gifts from Godparents and their own drawings of children at prayer. A small oval box contained slips of papers with prayers. A brightly colored wooden cage with a wind-up bird that sings like a canary rests on the very edge of the ledge--who doesn't love a canary's song and yes, heaven is bound to be filled with the sound of birds.

This icon is a square inch and though it seemed pointless to put so much effort into something of this size, now I know just the place for it as well as others I've most completed. I'll be anxious to learn where in "heaven" they'll be placed. 

Heaven may be a bit remote to adults, but a child's heart gives a glimpse of what we one day hope to see.

..., again and again...

"The masters must be copied again and again, and only after having given every indication of being a good copyist can you reasonably be given leave to draw a radish from nature." Edgar Degas

We made a trip to the Portland Art Museum for Mother's Day to view the Degas Exhibit before it ends the last of this month.  I jotted down Degas' quote as a reminder that nothing comes without practice.  Degas own progress in sketches throughout the years is obvious.  It's mastery through work.

At the end of the evening any piece of paper will do to draw for those "at least 15 minutes" I told myself I would do--"if nothing else."  It's humbling to produce sketches that are awkward,  incorrect, or a far cry from the original subject.  Sometimes there's progress, and then sometimes, not so much.   Guess it's all about plugging away..."again and again."

Creeping Charlie

While Nana and Gramp were on their hands and knees trying to root out dandelions, I was using the flowers to decorate mud-pies.  Nana knew her flowers, cultivated and wild, and could recite their names for me.  This new-found blue flower taking up residence in her lawn was going to be a colorful addition to my mud-cakes, but first I wanted to know what it was. 

"That," Nana responded in such a scornful tone, "is Creeping Charlie." Nana was charitable in her estimation of everyone--hers was "to give the devil his dues." Her disregard for this "Charlie fella" led me to imagine him as some shadowy little creature raising Cain in her garden on moonlit nights while she slept unaware. 

Many years ago he hitched a ride on one of Nana's plants that was headed for my new flower garden. Needless to say, Charlie is well-established and there to cheer on the dandelions. Recently he has taken a whole new direction and is now scaling trees. 

Of all the many other aliases he has, "Creeping Charlie" is all we refer to him as around here. Oh, Nana, if we only knew then of his many attributes, we could've given the "devil his dues" and brewed the water for tea. 

Mary's Month

This time of year, especially where the month of May is dedicated to Mary, I collect early spring blossoms and place them before our statue of Our Lady of Lourdes.  The flowering quince held up for about a week before the color started to fade and it was time to gather a new bouquet.

I noticed two petals had fallen so perfectly on and near this image that rests beside our statue that for some reason, I just had to have a photo.