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Mary Liz Ingram —  January 19, 2024 — Leave a comment

Visit my new Portrait Store to easily commission a portrait of your pet, loved one or favorite location. Follow the link here and get started today!

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Create an heirloom to be enjoyed for generations by commissioning a portrait of your loved ones, your pet or a special location. Color commissions are painted in pastel or watercolor; black and white are drawn in graphite, charcoal or ink. Each piece is made with the highest quality materials on archival surfaces, so these pieces are guaranteed to last and satisfy.

Portraits are completed in a timely manner and at reasonable prices, so all can enjoy the special presence of a personal work of art in their home. Portraits make meaningful gifts for birthdays, holidays and special occasions.

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The Baltic Sea, Part 2

Mary Liz Ingram —  August 14, 2018 — 2 Comments

Old Thomas, Tallinn, Estonia

I was standing in a nearly empty museum, in an upstairs room lined with plaques covered in paragraphs and old pictures. We were intending to leave, having found what we were looking for – the 1952 version of the guardian of Tallinn, the copper weathervane Old Thomas. In this small city museum in Estonia, I had wandered into the back room just to see what there was to see.

As I browsed and skimmed the walls of words, I caught a few phrases that suspended me mid-stride. Deportations, Siberia, children freezing and starving to death… In a “wait, what?” moment, I started back over with a frown on my face. Around me, all at once I took in the images of war and hatred and pain – busts of Stalin, Nazi flags, cattle cars of people being transported.

Of all the countries we visited, I knew very little about Estonia. I didn’t know they had been taken over by so many countries. I didn’t know that the Soviet Union had undertaken 2 mass deportations, sending young and old Estonian men, women and children to Siberia. I didn’t know that the Nazis had occupied Estonia in between those deportations, sending away even more “undesirables.”

Old Hansa, Tallinn, Estonia

I didn’t write about that discovery in my travel journal. I wrote about the cool medieval restaurant where we ate lunch called Old Hansa. I wrote about the cinnamon beer and the big wooden spoon that came with my soup. There’s a whole paragraph about our food. I wrote about eating marzipan cake (Tallinn is famous for marzipan…who knew?).

All I wrote about the museum was this: “we learned more than expected about the hardship Estonians have faced.” I didn’t elaborate.

But out of all the memories from this incredible trip, that quiet moment in the upstairs room of the Tallinn City Museum particularly lingers.

Lighthouse, Warnemünde, Germany

Like there are two sides to every coin, there are two sides to our trip. There’s the simple freedom we felt in Scandinavia, and there’s the rich but heavy history we felt in Estonia, Germany and Russia. We were enveloped in the gorgeous flowers climbing the German homes, the sunny boardwalk, strawberry candies and old lighthouses on the shores of Warnemünde, the onion domes and towers of Tallinn, and the incredible palaces and museums of St. Petersburg, the Neva river and delicious vodkas. But all the while, evidence and memories of the World Wars, the Holocaust, the upheaval, oppression and seemingly endless assassinations throughout Russian history remain.

Golden Peacock Clock, St. Petersburg, Russia

I didn’t feel the heaviness in the people, nor in the experience of visiting these wonderful places. I feel the heaviness when I sit in my home and think back; when it frighteningly saddles up next to our current climate and I have to ask myself “Have we learned nothing?” The history of humanity seems stuck on repeat, “otherizing” groups of people, picking “in-groups” and “out-groups,” and following these dangerous paths until atrocities explode.

I feel the heaviness when I think of the 80% – or even 90% – of my friends who are afraid and affected by the state of our country. My friends who worry how they will be treated because they don’t look or don’t live like me. My friends who have lived here for decades and are now told their immigration papers will not be renewed without explanation. My friends who are all too often reminded that hate is loud right now in America. That hate has been emboldened. I fear for them; I weep with them.

St. Christopher, Tallinn, Estonia

Sitting on the couch one evening, my middle school daughter said “I don’t like that I look like this. It’s not fair.” Not referencing the awkwardness of puberty, or low self-esteem, she was talking about being blonde, light-skinned, blue-eyed. The unfairness she feels is that she is treated kindly at all times. She is spoken to with respect. She never experiences the looks, condescension or suspicion our friends receive.

It’s easy to just carry on, business as usual, when the world treats you well. But right now is not the time. We must not be indifferent, and we must not hate the haters. We must protest hate with connection, with a recognition of our shared humanity.  We can start by just paying attention, with kindness, friendship, honesty; by refusing to be fooled or distracted when hate and fear are normalized. Like the smiling statue of St. Christopher in Tallinn with a stone on his back, we must bear some of the weight so that others will not be crushed.

“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.” –Elie Wiesel

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

Travel always shapes you. It helps your eyes to open a little wider, your mind to see a little bit differently, and I believe it always makes you a better person than you were before you left. Below are my travel doodles and some photos from Warnemünde, Germany, Tallinn, Estonia, and St. Petersburg, Russia:

At the end of June, my husband and I escaped the thick Alabama heat and travelled to Northern Europe to explore the countries around the Baltic Sea. We arrived in Copenhagen, Denmark with eager eyes, prepared to experience the magical places we had read so much about.

Viking Ship, Oslo, Norway

Awhile back, before it was the cool trend it is now, our family discovered hygge, the Danish, and more widely Scandinavian “warm, cozy sense of well-being; being grateful for the present moments, for warming, light-filled simple things,” as I wrote several years ago. I’ve read books about Danish lykke and hygge, Swedish lagom and fika, and Finnish sisu, soaking up all sorts of cultural goodness. I was so excited to actually visit these places that I spent 125 days straight learning Danish on my Duolingo app. (Ja, jeg ved, jeg er lidt skør. Men jeg er også sjov). I read up on Norse mythology, pestering everyone with my accumulated facts. We researched the culture, landmarks, history and food of each country to which we planned to travel. I was more than ready for my fika in Sweden, a sauna in Finland and a bicycle ride in Denmark.

The Scandinavian countries have a pretty amazing reputation, consistenly ranked as the happiest countries on earth despite months of cold, dark winter. Traveling around, we experienced a peaceful beauty, a community-oriented social structure, and a simple, healthy wholeness that we, as Americans, would do well to notice and absorb. In the beautiful Scandinavian countries of Denmark, Norway, Finland and Sweden, we stumbled into wonder. We would also travel to Germany, Estonia and Russia, but we will save those tales and drawings for another day.

Nyhavn, Copenhagen, Denmark

We spent two days in Copenhagen, riding roller coasters at Tivoli, eating great food, visiting gardens, castles, and museums. We also spent a lot of time wandering. We sat on the stones by the sea, watching crowds of tourists teeter on rocks for selfies with the famous Little Mermaid statue. We strolled down streets and through the squares in the late night sun, taking in the sights, listening to revelers laugh and sing on a Friday night. We walked along the top of the old fort, bracing ourselves agains the strong breeze and watching swans swim and magpies scavenge. We posed for a picture in front of the famous colored facade of Nyhavn. We enjoyed pastries and coffees in a softly lit cafe, with comfortable benches and blankets. Denmark was heavenly – beautiful, friendly, one of the greenest countries in the world. And yes, there are bicycles everywhere.

doodle of Munch’s Hans Jaeger, Norway

Next, we boarded our cruise ship and headed for Oslo, Norway. My previous image of Norway was only shaped by Epcot and the movie Frozen, and Vikings of course; as expected, Norway is so much more. Oslo is a strong, sleek city and, upon arriving, we hopped a ferry to the Viking Ship museum and the Norsk Folkemuseum. We spent a lovely day exploring old Norwegian homes and farmsteads, culminating in the iconic Stave church- ancient, dark wood, nestled in the firs, the strong smell of pine will stay with me forever. When we got tired, we rested with soft serve ice-cream rolled in chocolate powder…everyone should do that. Yum. We went to the Nasjonalmusseet and saw Edvard Munch’s The Scream, but I have to say my favorite Munch painting was Hans Jaeger. I had to give drawing him a try. Exhausted, we walked through the Nobel Peace Center (they give out the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo), and then slept really well as we travelled to Germany.

Helsinki, Finland

Fast forward to our arrival in the gorgeous country of Finland. I think these might be my people. Known for being introverted, the Finns are so friendly in a relaxed, casual way that I, as an awkward introvert myself, felt so at ease. We wandered through Helsinki early on that Sunday morning; the city felt still and empty, a cold wind whipping through the streets. We climbed the giant stairs of the National Cathedral and sat in the sun, watching the city wake up and feeling the warmth return. After we had thawed out, we found a cozy cafe for a delicious coffee and cinnamon bun. We shopped in the market square, walked down a few piers to look at the Baltic Sea with its rocky islands and sail boats, and then made our way to Löyly, a strikingly built Finnish sauna on the water.

The sauna = my favorite moment on the trip. Whoa. Hotter than I could have imagined, the heat of the smoke sauna burnt my lips and nostrils. I slowly breathed through it until I realized I wasn’t actually going to die. Then we started sweating. Holy moly, even the back of my hands were sweating. After 10 minutes of enduring the heat, not totally unpleasantly, we walked out and jumped into the 40 degree Baltic Sea. It took my breath away and I popped back out really fast, but I. Did. It. And then we did the whole process again, and then one more time. We were so happy. Stupid happy. We sat there in the sun with a Finnish beer, feeling invigorated and alive. I wish I had a sauna and a cold sea outside my doorstep…

And now for Sweden. The last stop on our adventure before heading home, we were only able to wander around Stockholm for a small portion of the day. We saw the huge Vasa, the 17th century Swedish warship that sank upon its first sailing and is almost perfectly preserved. We ate Swedish meatballs with potatoes and lingonberry jam in the old town square Gamla Stan. The architecture was spectacular, the city magnificent.

Scandinavians know how to do it right. Besides a few treats and trinkets, we brought back an ease, a further encouraged desire for equality and peace, for a better way, a better lifestyle, for better environmental and financial choices. It bolstered the thoughts we’ve been gathering and showed us a better way to live – centered around life, family and nature, rather than the rushed, anxiety-driven, consumerist lifestyle America seems trapped in. We realized we can do something different, and we intend to.

Since the trip, we have been following up on those lessons. We have been steadily minimizing our possessions and our spending, and working on a serious plan to pay off debt that we had previously thought was just given monthly bills. We are trying to be more community-oriented and experience-oriented. We look forward to seeing where this path takes our family.

“The key to a wonderful life is to never stop wandering into wonder.” -Suzy Kassem

Below you will find my travel doodles from the Scandinavian countries we visited, drawn in ink, colored pencil and marker. Stay tuned for The Baltic Sea, Part 2 – Germany, Estonia & Russia.

 

I read every day…a lot. I get up early and read books that shape me. In the afternoon I read books that are a little lighter, but from which I can still learn. At night I read old mysteries by Valentine Williams and E. Philips Oppenheim, passed down from my grandfather. I keep a journal by my books and I record notable quotes and thoughts, which end up being like a map of learning.

At the beginning of this year, I looked through my notebooks from 2017 and created a summary of what I read and learned. Below are some rough notes about important things I took away from each book. Excuse the format, my running thoughts, and know that you will probably uncover different things than what touched me. I realize after reviewing my year that if we want to be better, to shape our world, indeed to save our world from where we stand, it takes work like everything else. Reading and processing is how I “practice” being a better, more peaceful, present and loving person. Some days it is exhausting. But when you look back over a year, how encouraging it is to see a path that you stumbled upon.

Since the year began, I’ve also been *trying* (key word) to draw or paint something each day, usually inspired but what I’ve read or learned. So here is a summary of art and reading. I hope some of these books will inspire you and shape you as they have done for me.

“Caminante, no hay camino, se hace al andar. 

Traveler, there is no path, the path must be forged as you walk” -Antonio Machado

(or read?)

Dorothy Day: Selected Writings – inspired to take action and lead, little by little, taking small steps knowing they can be greater than you think, living simply and being open and hospitable

Documentary “Minimalism” and articles by the Minimalists: create more, consume less; I could write so much more. Just go watch it.

Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson – “You can’t understand most of the important things from a distance…you have to get close,” lose fear and “beat the drum for justice,” be a “stone catcher” when people throw them at others

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho – embrace mystery, follow dreams, don’t fear, walk forward; the soul of the world is love, immerse your “soul into the universal current of life,” “I must not be afraid to change my life”

Mary Oliver, several different poetry collections – “I don’t want to be demure or respectable. I was that way, asleep, for years…” I could just list all her poems…they are amazing

Thoreau, Civil Disobedience – did he write that yesterday? It mirrored our current cultural and political climate so closely. “Let your life be a counter friction to stop the machine” of injustice

Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass – find beauty everywhere

We Make the Road by Walking , Brian McLaren- don’t uphold the status quo; rethink everything; be “creative nonconformists,” a “community where anyone who wants to be a part of us will be welcome”

The Rebirthing of God, John Philip Newell – heartbeat of God is in all things; “dream the way forward”

Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv, Rambunctious Garden by Emma Harris, Bringing Nature Home by Douglas Tallamy, and Planting: A New Perspective by Piet Oudolf – books about nature that changed the way I look at the world and our role in it; “Let nature be your teacher”

Emotional Agility by Susan David- Life’s beauty is inseparable from its fragility

Illuminate by Nancy Duarte and Patti Sanchez – be a torchbearer, leading the way forward, dreamers, pioneers, leades

Awareness by Anthony de Mello – Wake up! Unlearn, listen, see, put on a new mind. I love this book. He doesn’t mess around. I read it 2 times this year. Then I read The Way to Love and Song of the Bird

Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari – history of Sapiens and human culture; ” the pursuit of an easier life led to much hardship.” You can clearly see the path that has led us to today. A very interesting book.

Present Over Perfect by Shauna Niequist – “charm…your act is easy,” be good, not perfect; break addiction to achievement, image management

The Sabbath, by Abraham Joshua Heschel- rest and reclaim your dignity, the soul and body to be wise

The Sacred Enneagram by Christopher Heuertz – find beauty in our imperfection, trust your feelings, don’t fear; cultivate emotional intelligence. Great leaps in understanding myself through reading this book

Braving the Wilderness by Brene Brown – be brave; don’t “sort” people, very relevant to our current climate (I could write a lot more…)

The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown – shame/vulnerability; “share is the fear of being vulnerable,” foster creativity and self-compassion

The Remarkable Ordinary by Frederick Buechner – art says stop and see; go out into the world, not hiding, even if you’re scared

Rising Strong by Brene Brown – 10 Guideposts for Wholehearted Living

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown – culture of scarcity, “never enough”; shame/vulnerability, build “shame resistance” and self-compassion; a really great book – every one should read this! Changed the way I see myself, the way I parent and interact with everyone.

The Wisdom of Sundays by Oprah Winfrey – set intention, follow your bliss, so many good, good things in this book

The short notes above, summaries from the short notes in my notebooks, are barely shadows of the treasures found in each of these books. Several of these books are or have been in our Little Free Library, and I’m always happy to lend one if you want to read!

An Open Hand

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 12, 2018 — Leave a comment

The sincerity of a 5 year old

standing straight and tall on a bench at the table, blue eyes bright

a passionate speech delivered

about love, hate, division

about broken hearts

courage, dreams.

She learned about Martin Luther King, Jr. at school today, and full of fervor, recounted the events of the Civil Rights Movement. She is known for giving spontaneous speeches, and I listened closely. My 5 year old, in all her innocence, spoke such truth in a time when it feels like truth is lost:

“You shouldn’t judge people. It matters what you say, even how you look at people. Words hurt. It can break your heart. It splits them in two. When people are mean to people just because they look different, it hurts their heart. It doesn’t matter what your skin looks like, or your hair, or your eyes. Your heart is what matters.”

“He was a good man. I want to be like him. I look up to him. Even though he’s dead, I look up to him. He wanted people to be friends.”

An hour before, I spent time sketching a portrait of one of my dearest friends.

I heard today what our President said about her country, many countries; the man who is supposed to represent the land of opportunity, the land built of immigrants, who calls other countries “shitholes.” Just a few days before we celebrate the bravery of Martin Luther King, our president again shows his racism.

In response, I sought to honor my friend by drawing her beautiful face, thinking of her grace and kindness, her strength and worth. I thought of my many friends from Haiti, Peru, Vietnam, Indonesia, Yemen; people I see and love everyday. People who matter. People whose hearts are broken by other people who judge them and do not know them.

A 5 year old knows we are all human; that we all have deep worth, and that it lies in our hearts. No matter our gender, our ethnicity, our religion, our country. We would do well to listen to her and do what is necessary to restore our common humanity. It seems more fragile every day.

“Whatever you do in life…remember…think higher, and feel deeper. Life is not a fist. Life is an open hand waiting for some other hand to enter it in friendship.” -Elie Wiesel 

 

For the Girls

Mary Liz Ingram —  November 17, 2017 — 2 Comments

For the Girls, 20x20 watercolor on canvas

This girl. She is strong. She sees past excuses. She has a spirit that is passionate for justice. She is small of stature, great of heart. When I see her, I see hope. I see a backbone that won’t let you push her around. She makes me stand up a little straighter, which is hard to do these days.

Every day I wake up to a struggle for hope in a world that keeps beating us down. Reasons to be afraid are paraded before us, dividing us, depressing us, threatening to consume. Fear of violence, fear of leadership, fear of catastrophe, fear for the environment, fear over the food I buy, the way I live, the places I go, the choices I make, the things I say.

The world seems tilted and it’s hard to find my footing. But when I look at a child, when I look at my child, this brave young lady, I find it easier to plant my feet, to find my balance, to keep moving forward. I find the strength to grab the world with a white-knuckled grip, filled with outrage at the mistreatment of truth and love and faith, and hold on tight, pulling with a determination on my one piece of this world to keep it from tilting further. I add my weight, however little it may be, for decency, for kindness, for peace, for hope. Because what we do matters. Our choices matter.

As I drove along in traffic one morning, this image of her face flashed in my mind. With the laundry list of world problems, American problems, Alabama problems that are dividing us, I can’t help but scream, “Aren’t we worth more than this?” We trudge along, hunkered down in whatever way feels most comfortable. We may plug our ears, turn away from the pain and insulate ourselves; we may succumb to fear and batten down the hatches, mistrusting everyone and everything; or we can stand up to the tumult and weather the storm with each difficult step. How will it get better if we don’t stand up and raise our hands together for goodness, for unity? What will this current course leave for our children? For us?

So I stand up. Even if it feels scary, however standing up may manifest itself today.

For the girls. For the boys. For the tired, the fearful, the hateful, the loving, the strong. I will pull and pull at this tilting world like a life or death game of tug-of-war.

It would be so much better if we can all pull together. To look in each other’s eyes and see we are not just divided into men and women, republican and democrat, liberal and conservative, this and that, us and them. We are human – e pluribus unum. Out of many, one.

         

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

 

                                       Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

-Walt Whitman, O Me! O Life!

 

For quite awhile, I have been using Square to accept online payments and send invoices. I am happy to announce that I now have an online store where you can securely and easily purchase many items including my Birmingham notecards, Alabama art, and custom commissions. Visit my online Square store today by following the link below!

Mary Liz Ingram Art on Square

Across the Sea

Mary Liz Ingram —  September 18, 2016 — 2 Comments

We met a man in Santorini who told me that when you come expecting good things, with a good heart and good intention, you will find goodness returned to you. When your eyes are open and your heart is willing, you see magic things all around you. You notice the hummingbird moth on the yellow thistle, the feathers on the ground, the adventure to be found.

Be a child with wide open eyes, welcoming whatever arises. -Sister Dang Nghiem

At the end of July, my husband and I were so grateful to be able to travel to the Mediterranean, journeying through Greece, Montenegro and Italy. Through the whirlwind of experiences, I watched for the twisting of the olive trees, the constellations in the sky, the plants I knew and those that I had never seen. We put our feet through the black pebbles on the Aegean coast, rode a Moped through low-growing vineyards, climbed the Acropolis in Athens, wandered through dark catacombs, ran around Rome at night. I watched the moon over the waves and knew each experience was shaping me a little bit more.

Traveling with a great group of people, we collectively reflected upon our days in the Mediterranean. I wrote in my journal on the last night in Rome, sifting through images and snatches of thoughts I had collected:

I’ve been amazed, felt filled with adventure and life, I have been worn and tired, I have felt relaxed and at peace. I have wondered after the wisp that catches my attention every now and then. I have tried to be present, at home with every step. It has been impressed upon me even more deeply than before that I am a part of the whole of creation – that the bee, the bird, the sea, the sky, the trees, the air, the land, the past, the steps and people are all so interconnected – we are a family on earth, and each place is our home. The mystery of the sea and sky and life itself seems even deeper and more mysterious and wonderfully complex than before. I am ever more convinced that love must grow, that unity and patience and an embrace of the other is necessary and compelling. There is no other way. We are all one – all one. Brother, sister all around from the people who smile to the people who push you – the bee on my plate, the cats on the pillars, the trees twisting and reaching, the sparkling sea and stars that guide. Unified as one body, God is in the wild places, all around and in and through.

Now that we are back home, I try to keep that spirit with me. The open eyes, the sense of adventure, the unity and connectedness of life on this earth. During our travels, I drew pieces and places that I collected each day, from little flowers to towering columns. I like to flip through them and remember.

I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world. -Mary Anne Radmacher

 

Daily Rituals

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 29, 2016 — 1 Comment

I tried to avoid the steady gaze. It seemed like the brown eyes pierced into my very soul, asking questions, surveying my existence. So contemplative, so knowing. I unwittingly mixed in a little introspective therapist into the pastels I applied, and I had to giggle a little when I stood back to survey the finished product. He’s very regal, very convicting, on his leather couch, eliciting introspection as he silently listens.

While drawing this winter, I listened to Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey, a fascinating book in bite-sized pieces detailing the routines and habits of around 160 artists, musicians, writers, and great thinkers. Along the way, as I layered fur and leather, I thought about my own daily habits, my own rituals to entice and encourage my artistic creativity.

I have to say, after listening to over 100 stories of artists’ bad habits – alcoholism, substance abuse, and some really weird rituals – I feel a little bit better about myself. They do take a lot of afternoon naps, though; I wish I could incorporate that into my life. What a lovely habit.

I began to worry, as I have joked in the past, based on the biographies of great artists such as Van Gogh, Degas and the like, that I will never be a very successful artist unless I have more problems, more existential throes, more drama. Luckily, after I finished Daily Rituals, I listened to Elizabeth’s Gilbert’s Big Magic. Speaking on the same subject – these crazy artists literally killing themselves over their creativity, living in the bowels of anxiety and personal torture – she gives a different view:

On these grounds, naturally I am tempted to make the case for drinking myself to death as a creative exercise, but that would be self-destructive.

Creativity resides in making the choices that make you happy, and anyone who tells you otherwise — your inner critic, your outer critics — is fooling you. Originality is out, authenticity is in.

Whew. That’s good news. As I finish up “Bogie” the dog, I relax a bit, look him in the eyes and say “thanks.” We made it out together. He seems relaxed.

Bogie, 11x14 pastel on card

Bogie, 11×14 pastel on card