Archives For doodle

Across the Sea

Mary Liz Ingram —  September 18, 2016 — 1 Comment

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

 

Birds

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 26, 2016 — 1 Comment
Tree full, ink doodle

Tree full, ink doodle

I cracked the window an inch,

letting in an icy draft

filled with the chattering of birds,

dotting the yards,

punctuating the trees.

The smallest movement sends them

flying in a blur.

Red-wing blackbirds, waxwings, grackles

cowbirds and red-breasted robins,

a congregation of busy, nervous feathers.

Cat comes running up the sidewalk,

her body alive with eagerness for a feast

if she can catch one.

No luck yet.

“I meant to do my work today but a brown bird sang in the apple tree…” -Richard Le Gallienne

Pet Portraits

Mary Liz Ingram —  October 21, 2015 — Leave a comment

A portrait is a wonderful way to create a lasting memory of your pet…any pet! Either in black & white or full color, I so enjoy creating a true-to-life painting to bring out the personality behind the photograph. With each detail captured, from the glint in the eye to the many hues in the fur, these portraits can be valued for generations. I’ve drawn everything from fish and dogs, to cows and chickens, to rabbits and cats.

Pet portraits make wonderful gifts…in order to ensure completion for Christmas, contact me today! marylizingramart@gmail.com

Pet Portrait Pricing:

8 x 10″: $175 ink or charcoal, $225 color pastel; add $90 for each additional subject

9 x 12″: $200 ink or charcoal, $260 color pastel; add $100 for each additional subject

11 x 14″: $250 ink or charcoal, $325 color pastel; add $125 for each additional subject

16 x 20″: $400 ink or charcoal, $465 color pastel; add $200 for each additional subject

18 x 24″: $550 ink or charcoal, $625 color pastel; add $275 for each additional subject

24 x 36″: $750 ink or charcoal, $850 color pastel; add $400 for each additional subject

Prices for other subjects and sizes available upon request.

Ready to goWhen you constantly create art, you eventually run out of room.

Time for a Summer Art Sale!

The pieces below are marked down for the next 2 weeks only, July 31-August 14.

Pastels, ink doodles, framed, unframed…there are lots of options. Some of them are my favorites, and they would love to find a home on a wall near you!

Contact me today to purchase your favorite! marylizingramart@gmail.com 

Art is available for immediate pick up or shipping (shipping costs apply). Cash, check and credit card accepted.

Click on the image to see the full view

 

Home Grown

Mary Liz Ingram —  July 4, 2015 — Leave a comment

“This land is your land, this land is my land…”

It’s the 4th of July, Independence Day here in the USofA.

Front Garden

We make our homes, build our lives, work to provide and strive to enjoy our days together, like just about every human being.

Here at the Ingram household, we have dug up 2/3 of our front yard (remember last fall?) and are growing our first spring and summer garden. And good grief, is it ever a fight. You’d think you could just plop some seeds in the dirt and they will grow into full, lush plants dripping with fruit. Not so much. Amending the soil, not over-watering nor under-watering, picking off those (bleepity-bleep) cabbage worms, fighting off the ants, beetles, birds, cats…

It takes consistency, perseverance, problem-solving, patience – much like life.

My garden daily calls me to consider my life.

A good life, a well-spent life, takes all of these things that the garden requires. You must get your hands in the thick of it to make a difference, to live outside your safe walls. You must persevere and admit you have no idea what to do next sometimes. You have to keep trying, being okay with failure here and there, knowing you will get where you want to go in the end – somewhere good and full of life.

We have successfully eaten food from the garden; we will, with working hands and honest eyes, find progress toward good things. 

Bugs!My frontyard garden puts me closer to community. I can’t hide in my backyard privacy fence, caring only for my own. And I don’t want to. My neighbors see my yellow tomato plant, give me advice on how to get the beetles off my bean plants, ask me how my lavender has stayed alive. I’ve met so many people while pulling weeds near the road. My garden has led me to some of my greatest new friends, like Ms. Gladys from Haiti. People I may never have met.

Forcing myself out front in the garden helps me put myself “out there,” taking greater chances in community. It has given me courage to speak to people in our community who know little English, not as worried if I look like a miming fool. And the fruits of these awkward conversations have been beautiful.

This land is OUR land…all of us together, with our glorious diversity. 

Our news is currently filled with examples and actions of hate in our nation. Intolerance, pointing fingers, pointing guns… we are better than this, surely. Our nation is founded in diversity, a country made of immigrants. It should flourish in its diversity.

We have so much to learn from each other, if we can open our eyes and work with love. Get our hands dirty, and be willing to look a little stupid sometimes when we feel unsure. Live with kindness, courage and understanding, not hate, fear or suspicion.

Let’s celebrate together, grow together and move forward together.

Spare Time

Mary Liz Ingram —  July 2, 2015 — Leave a comment

Back in late December, when we often reflect upon the year almost past and what we hope for in the days to come, my fingers started itching.

Actually, now that I remember, they were literally itching. I kept googling “itching fingers,” but that is apparently a silly thing to google and I found no answers that applied. They always seemed to itch in carpool line. I decided to blame it on the heater. Who knows. They don’t itch anymore, anyway…

They also itched to move.

More specifically, an idea implanted itself in my whim-loving mind, and my fingers itched to play the banjo. That’s right, the banjo.

My understanding husband and family humored my whim for awhile, probably hoping it would pass (insert chuckle). But it didn’t! I saved up money, and kept pestering Stephen, and a month or so later, came home to a brand new banjo waiting for me (thanks Stephen!).

Since then, I’ve practiced and practiced and can play “You are My Sunshine” fairly well, and am learning two other tunes. Yee haw!

It is very therapeutic – kind of like typing away on my old typewriter – and I just really like it.

Here’s to my banjo!

Banjo

Sunny California

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 23, 2015 — 1 Comment

It’s been a while since, months can pass so quickly, but I find my thoughts daily straying to my few days on the Pacific.

I left the downpours of an Alabama spring behind and spent some time on the shores of California. A rare retreat alone, my husband and I felt like excited, curious children on a grand adventure. We ran around Hollywood Blvd., drove down the coast in a little red rental car, climbed over the rocks and tidal pools of Laguna Beach, went whale watching, and Stephen took a surfing lesson while I giggled and watched.

It was glorious.

With such incredible surroundings – the tallest palm trees I’ve ever seen, the sky catching on fire as we watched the sun sink into the ocean, dolphins, gray whales and sea lions right in front of me – I planned to paint and draw a lot.

But, I enjoyed myself so immensely and found myself so relaxed, I didn’t feel like doing much of anything besides staring at the ocean and listening to it sing. I found the words of Mary Oliver’s poem “Today” drifting through my mind: “Today I’m flying low and I’m not saying a word….Quiet as a feather. I hardly move though I’m traveling a terrific distance.”

Here are a few paintings, doodles and thoughts from those transforming days in California:

Pacific Ocean treasures, watercolor

Pacific Ocean treasures, watercolor

When I saw this collection of ocean treasures – shells and seaweed, sticks and pebbles – I was reminded of the poem “Breakage” by Mary Oliver as well. I recommend you read the whole poem…all of her poems, really. They are so simple, so beautiful.

I go down to the edge of the sea. How everything shines in the morning light!

….

First you figure out what each one means by itself,

the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

 

The Nap

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 2, 2015 — Leave a comment

There was a recent day when my son was sick. Tired and weak, he crawled into the deep pile of pillows on my bed to rest, and quickly fell asleep. On tiptoes, I inched into the room to feel his flushed cheeks and warm forehead, checking him with a mother’s worried, loving eyes.

The Bed, Toulouse-Lautrec

The Bed, Toulouse-Lautrec

The room was still and soft; the folds on the white pillows were tinted with blue and gold. The quilt lay across his sleeping chest, and the beauty of this restful moment enveloped me as I stood, quietly watching.

Always one to browse and soak in Impressionist paintings, an image floated through my mind as I lingered, a painting by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. I suddenly saw the moment as a painting.

As an artist – well, really, as a human – I try to pay attention. To notice and find the beauty and wonder in everyday moments. To value everyday moments, because that is where life is, and life is so short. When I see it, I try my best to capture what I have seen, what I have felt, what I have imagined. Sometimes it is easy, like a quick doodle to capture a snapshot in the day; sometimes it requires more effort.

In this case, I used gouache for the second time in my life, and sought to blend the images of Toulouse-Lautrec’s painting with the quiet, colorful moment of a child’s afternoon nap. It’s not perfect, but it captures a hint of what I saw as I stood in my room, and it is always a gift to try something new.

The Nap, gouache on board

The Nap, gouache on board

“The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.”  –Pablo Picasso

Birmingham Doodles

Mary Liz Ingram —  November 17, 2014 — Leave a comment

Introducing my new series of Birmingham doodles… I’m happy and surprised to say they are going fast! Ranging from $25 – $45 for original drawings, to $20 sets of notecards, these make great gifts for the holidays. I enjoy capturing the iconic landmarks of my wonderful city, and sharing them with YOU!

These doodles will make their debut, along with my pastels, at the Mountain Brook Art Association Holiday Show, open December 5th – December 19th at Brookwood Mall. Hope to see you at the opening reception December 5th from 6:00- 8:00!

2014-holiday-card-hi-rez

The Garden

Mary Liz Ingram —  October 23, 2014 — 5 Comments

For months, I’ve been consumed with my latest project:

My fabulous front yard garden.

I’ve researched, I’ve measured, I’ve sketched and planned. I’ve shoveled dirt, I’ve carried rocks, I’ve moved buckets and buckets of soil. I’ve planted, I’ve watered, I’ve problem solved, I’ve watched food grow, I’ve eaten produce from my front yard.

With my trusty helpers, including the 2 year old, we have made my dream a reality and I have to admit I am super proud – giddy even. If you follow my blog, you may remember my post from St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, when I was first inspired to plant the garden. Well, I’m happy to say I DID IT. I did it!!! And if you follow me on Facebook, you’ve been barraged with garden doodles.

In planting, I tried to be responsible – environmentally, economically and practically. After a persistent search, I found an amazing deal on recycled fire bricks ($25 a ton!) to edge my garden. I ordered a huge dump truck load of soil at the best price. I compost and I now own a $40 rain barrel. I ordered non GMO seeds ($.99 sample packs!) from seedsnow.com and they grew. I shop at my local Homewood Garden Shop and have healthy blueberry bushes and lovely plants.

I worked my butt off building and planting this garden.

Beginning at the end of August, in the Alabama heat, I made it happen with my ever-present garden buddy. My kids, especially my son, now understand exactly where food comes from and how to grow it and care for it. My son waters it, pulls grass out of it, harvests the radishes, and takes a walk through it every time I open the door.

My garden is planted to grow community.

I didn’t know how that would work, but the first day I was out there I had real conversations with a dozen people, neighbors and passers-by. I share food with my neighbors and have met all sorts of new people. My kids tell anyone who asks about the plants growing, and I find that food is an easy thing to discuss, a common denominator.

My favorite story happened a few weeks ago. As we walked home from school, I began talking to an older lady about rosemary, as our kids were smelling it by someone’s mailbox. I just made a quick comment, not aiming at anything, not trying too hard. A few words later, we were talking about my garden. She was interested and missed her garden, as she said, “in my country, we have sun everyday and I grow many plants.” As we parted ways, I told her to stop by anytime and see the garden and take some herbs.

A week later, she stopped me at the corner with her two grandsons and asked if they could walk down to see the garden. On our short stroll, I find out they are from Haiti, and that her entire family was there during the earthquake except for her. She had arrived in the US four days before the quake for a wedding, and was plagued with anxiety over the separation at such a time. I now know her name, I know a portion of her amazing story, and the kids all ran together along the stepping stones of my garden.

Growing something, overcoming obstacles (like cats, cabbage worms, flooding rains, aphids…), being faithfully attentive and persistent…you learn things from gardening. About life, about children, about the world. I feel at peace and connected to nature when I’m checking the leaves and hearing the spray of water hitting the thick pile of green collards. It is a small miracle to see a snow pea sprout and grow out of the dirt, mere days after planting. There are more benefits to this garden than I can name.

My Garden Doodles thus far: