Bull at the Fair

Took this photo when I was in Georgia, at an art fair. Just thought he was so cute, especially since he was on the other side of the fence. Tried to get a better shot but I wasn't the only one that thought he was cute.

BULL ON A BLOG

I'm just a bull at the fair

Can't understand why everyone stares

I guess because I am so cute

and my profile has a certain flair

They take photos

but I don't care

I think I'm more handsome than cute

I become blogcelebrity

end up on someones blog

See I told ya

I'm the Baby

My daily lap

You can't beat that

Can't help myself

What do You think of that

Mommy gets mad

and that makes me sad

but she doesn't think I am bad

After all

Gotta Love Me Cause I'm the Baby.

Birdie

What are you thinking

What's on your mind

Wish you could tell me all of the time

You swing on your swing

& curse at your toys

Say that I am bootiful

& sing with joy

You call out our name & we do the same

My question to you is

Who's teachingwho?

I know, I know I posted this on the other blog

jersuzstuff.blogspot.com - but I found this picture of Birdie when she was just a baby. Couldn't help myself, she's so cute. She is 3 years old now, and carries on a great conversation. Never know if it's me talking to myself or her.

Labels

1. Hue- Very similar in value. Impressionist, Contemp, Post impressionist-(Bonnard-Flat patterns)

2. Black-Old Masters, Contemporary-(Matisse-Abandoned all color theory to work with his intuition)

3. Grey-Contemporary, Luminous- Turner

4. White-Impressionist, Contemporary-(Charles Reid-High key)

5. Shade- Adding a small amount of black or a complement to a pure color. Old Master, Traditional -

6. Tones-Luminous, Traditional (Turner-Strong contrasts in value are avoided.)

7. Tints-Sometimes called tones. Impressionist, Luminous, Traditional, Post Impressionist (Bonnard, Matisse, Turner) Tints are pure colors that have been lightened with addition of water.



It was late 19th century when we started with the formal art criticism and the sale of works in private art galleries. Cassatt (one of my favorites) and others were struggling artist at the time and these new labels were suppose to promote interest and help sales. It didn't but the labels stuck. Then labels became groups and most "Artist"/people do not like to be Labeled



My work is me, my thoughts, feelings, emotions, just me, and am different at different times. If I was grouped I guess I would, be "Excontimrealcubcolorsionism" but that's a really big word, maybe I will stick with Susan.

This is a photo of a bad photo of a painting I did of my Grandmother. (Watercolor)
I have done 3 paintings of my grandmother, I gave this one to my mother, and the other two, I gave to my sister.
I have to get back to painting, so many thoughts. Right now I have an idea. ---------My very good friend, Lorrianne is in the hospital recovery from surgery, she will need chemo next. In my minds eye I have a masterpiece of a painting about her. Now I have to get my mind to paper.

Where were You

Tom Paxton wrote a song within a week of September 11, 2001. Garrison Keller sang it on his October 13, 2001 Prairie Home Companion Show.

This painting symbolizes Birth, Living, Rebirth and Death.

Color-Patterning-Stories-Birds-Trees-Symbols

I really love patterning-Birds-Trees-symbols I PUT IT ALL IN THIS PAINTING> Many layers.
I heard so many stories, fables, and sayings when I was growing up, didn't realized at that time there was a meaning behind them. Just enjoyed my mother reading them to me. I would read them to my little sister until she became a better reader than I, same with my kids. Now I read to myself, can't get better than myself, It makes me better.
Fable-A narration intended to enforce a useful truth.
The Sky Is Falling (fable)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Sky Is Falling, better known as Chicken Licken, Henny Penny or Chicken Little is an old fable about a chicken (or a hare in early versions) who believes the sky is falling. The phrase, "The sky is falling," has passed into the English language as a common idiom indicating a hysterical or mistaken belief that disaster is imminent

Watercolor on 300lb paper.

The Old Barn

The Old Barn

I've been standing much to long

Many an animal I have homed

Long and short, big and tall

There all gone and I miss them all

The other day the wind did blow

Shifted me to the left and then to the right

Ripped my boards from head to toe

They came out and said I had to go

They brought machines

and tore me down

Lit a match and I hit the ground

I'm still here

But they can't see

Only a memory

Left to be

Have Loved this old barn since we bought our place in NC. In July when my grandson and I were in NC I noticed it leaning and knew it wouldn't be long.

So I wanted to get a photo of it before it was gone.
Took this shot on Sat.the 5th of Sept. and it was still smoldering Sunday night, didn't go down without a fight.

Hope the owner saved some of the old wood.

UPDATE- From my friend Jo Kilmer-rusticfurnituremakers.com/jo kilmer.htm

It was sad to see the burning pictures..I did love your poem, only you left out one part,,
How ...the nieghbor up the road {me}
was hurrying to and fro
gathering some of that 100 year old wood
to keep it alive and render it's beauty
for as long as She could..

I got enough to make some beautiful table tops and even do a good size room flooring..

Boo Hoo for all the rest that went up in smoke
jo

Less is More

Just got back from NC, had a wonderful weekend.

When I was there, I opened up my journal and found a flower that I put in there on my last visit. Thought it was so pretty and didn't have a whole lot of time to think this morning, so thought I would post something simple.

"Less is More"

My Mother

It's been 3 years ago today that my mother passed away. I am so blessed to have had such wonderful parents, and wonder do you ever get over the pain of losing parents.

My mother was 94 when this photo was taken.

MOTHER

My Mom would complain about those ducks

we would say, stop feeding them and they'll go away. She would not listen, so they would stay

After she passed they came around for awhile, but then again so did I.

Every evening she would sit on the back porch and watch the birds and recite the poem The Childrens Hour by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Between the dark and the daylight,

When the night is beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations

That is know as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me

The patter of little feet,

The sound of a door that is opened,

And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,

Descending the broad hall stair,

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,

An Edith with golden hair.

I loved that poem, especially the last two paragraphs

I have you fast in my fortress,

And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon

In the round-tower of my heart

And there will I keep you forever,

Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away.

My mother loved to read, and always read to us. She also kept a journal, her granny taught her that. She kept a journal up until the day she passed, at 94. I have one of her dairies from her high school days. She wrote "We went to the bank today, and the bank had no money" from that experience she learned to manage money. She worked very hard, taking care of her Grandparents. She would pick berries and gather eggs to sell at the local feed store.

She married our Dad, who was just as wonderful as she was. She just couldn't live without him. We were and are so blessed.

Thank You Mother.