A Couple Miniatures for Tiny Treasures

Both paintings 2.5x3.5 inches, acrylic on watercolor paper

I was approached by a person online who wanted me to create an artist trading card sized painting of a raven, with the understanding she would send me something she had done.  I haven't gotten into ATCs very much, but since I enjoy working small I did a little series.  Each card started out with some altered tissues and National Geographic pages, but all that ended up being buried under acrylic paint.  What remains is the texture, which was, in the end, impossible for me to photograph without getting reflections.  If I had photographed before I varnished, I would have been OK, but I got impatient.  That's not a good thing.

I plan to send these small paintings to the Wisconsin Regional Art Program for their annual Tiny Treasures fund raiser.  Artists create ATC sized paintings, pay a small fee, then the paintings are all sold to raise money for the organization.  In addition, the entries are judged.  There are some cash awards, and the winners are printed in a pocket calendar.  I was happy last year to have my painting chosen for the cover of the calendar. 

Almond Kisses

This is the finished version of my Hershey almond kisses.  I'm not sure it has much of a "Wow" factor, but I had fun with trying to capture the reflections on the foil wrapper, and the little paper strip was interesting to do as well.  I'm thinking now that the chocolate looks like dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate, but it's going to stay as it is.

Tonight we watch the Oscars.  Both of us are compulsive movie watchers, and have been since we started dating in the early 1970s.  Over the years we have almost never missed the Oscars, and have an ongoing contest to see who is a better picker of award winners.  He wins more than I do, though with all the internet analysis we've been much closer in our choices, which takes some of the fun out.  Still, I'm looking forward to setting in with snacks and beverages, and my check sheet in hand.

Considering Chocolate

5x7 inches - acrylic on canvas board

This is my plan for a painting of two Hershsey's almond kisses.  I made the mistake of buying a bag of these little treats before Valentines Day, and we are hooked.  Anyway I painted this little value study and my husband told me it was hard for him to see what the it is.  "They're just shapes," was his comment.  I told him,"You're right, Sweetie!"  Tomorrow I'll add the color with oil paint.

I guess I should not show my work to friends or family, especially if I'm in the least ungenerous mood.  I took a couple things to show at my local painting group and found myself annoyed about well-intentioned critical comments.  I understand completely that they felt helpful, but I bristled at all of them.  I either need to learn to stay home when I'm in that sort of mood or find more gracious ways to accept criticism.  One thing I sometimes remember to say when I don't necessarily agree with what someone says is "You might be right." On the other hand, maybe we all need to ask before we offer advice, and see if it's welcome.  Next week maybe I'll take along a little bag of chocolate just to be sure we're all happy with each other.

The Prelude
By Matthew Zapruder

Oh this Diet Coke is really good,
though come to think of it it tastes
like nothing plus the idea of chocolate,
or an acquaintance of chocolate
speaking fondly of certain times
it and chocolate had spoken of nothing,
or nothing remembering a field
in which it once ate the most wondrous
sandwich of ham and rustic chambered cheese
yet still wished for a piece of chocolate
before the lone walk back through
the corn then the darkening forest
to the disappointing village and its super
creepy bed and breakfast. With secret despair
I returned to the city. Something
seemed to be waiting for me.
Maybe the “chosen guide” Wordsworth
wrote he would even were it “nothing
better than a wandering cloud”
have followed which of course to me
and everyone sounds amazing.
All I follow is my own desire,
sometimes to feel, sometimes to be
at least a little more than intermittently
at ease with being loved. I am never
at ease. Not with hours I can read or walk
and look at the brightly colored
houses filled with lives, not with night
when I lie on my back and listen,
not with the hallway, definitely
not with baseball, definitely
not with time. Poor Coleridge, son
of a Vicar and a lake, he could not feel
the energy. No present joy, no cheerful
confidence, just love of friends and the wind
taking his arrow away. Come to the edge
the edge beckoned softly. Take
this cup full of darkness and stay as long
as you want and maybe a little longer.