Italian women pride themselves on their clean, orderly homes, their freshly ironed linens, and of course the food they cook. This painting was inspired by a photo of my cousin Silvana, who lives in Sersale, a small town in Calabria. Many times when we spoke, she told me she was cleaning her house or ironing innumerable shirts for her husband. Here she takes a break.
What does this painting tell you? Is there a story in it? Want to share? If I like your story/explanation, you will win one of my small original paintings. Post your story here on my blog in the comments or on Facebook, using a link to this blog page and this painting.
Does the sky make you joyful? Sad? Is it foreboding? What does the crow see?
Your prize will either be one of the small crow paintings or a post card sized cat hand painted and signed by me.
I am looking forward to hearing from you. The deadline is September 10, 2010
If you click on the painting twice you can see it larger.
photography by Les Dozsa (click on his name to see more of his great photos)
How do you get yourself into the mood to paint, or cook, or write, or whatever your craft is?
I’d like to tell you about how my day at the Renton Art and Antique fair went.
I was one of about 70 artists and crafts-persons invited to sit outside of downtown businesses all day last Saturday in Renton, Washington to display my wares. If I was lucky, someone would buy something. (and I was lucky, I sold two original paintings) But honestly I was not in the mood. It’s true. I was bone tired from lack of sleep, and it was cold out. Really, it was, we’ve had a very cold summer. I was wearing a hat and a scarf and a jacket, we were on the shady side of the street. But It is rare for me to find opportunities to “meet the public” so I did my best to play the part of a gracious artist. I had my tables set up next to Seana, one of my artist friends. Seana is wonderful; she engages everyone easily, and not only sells herself and gets commissions, but she also sells me. Effortlessly. And I knew for a fact that Seana didn’t feel so hot either.
I did not feel like painting, but I know that if I always waited for inspiration, I would probably not be at that fair. An artist doesn’t just exist, an artist creates. And the act of creation requires energy and commitment. Right about that time, as I was wrestling with myself, a little boy walked up to me. I am not sure how old he was, but I saw no parents nearby, so I assume he was at least 11 years old.
He looked at my stuff and looked me in the eye and said:
“I am an artist. Can you tell me if you draw an outline before you paint, or do you just apply paint to blank paper?”
I was delighted and astonished. Someone wanted to talk to me about painting! And that someone happened to be a cute little kid. We talked for a while, he wanted to know how long I had been painting; I told him 4 years. His eyes got big, but I added;
“But I have been drawing all my life.”
and his response: “Me too!” I told him good luck and keep drawing. There he was, not yet an adult, but confident, open, engaging. What is an artist? That boy is certainly one. And so am I. I started to paint.
Is there anything that helps you get started? Tell me, I love to hear from you.