Archives For Southern

Stately Moos

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 1, 2014 — Leave a comment

Berenice was adored by the other cows for her poise and beauty. Her rich color strikingly marked with white made her a cut above the rest…

Berenice, 8x8 pastel

Berenice, 8×8 pastel

 

Bootsie loved to stop and watch the world go by…

Bootsie, 4x4 pastel

Bootsie, 4×4 pastel

 

Beulah was the matron of the herd, sitting proudly on the hill in all her splendor…

Beulah, 18x24 pastel

Beulah, 18×24 pastel

 

Meet these new bovines in person next Saturday, April 5 in Crestline at the Mountain Brook Art Association Spring Art Festival…they would love to come home to a wall near you!

Feathered friends are coming up next…

A Muddy Introduction

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 31, 2014 — 1 Comment

Debuting at my next show, coming up Saturday, April 5th in Crestline, here is the first bunch of new buddies ready to come home to a wall near you…

Pinkerton was a curious, eager little pig, always looking for his next adventure…

Pinkerton, 4x4 pastel

Pinkerton, 4×4 pastel

 

 

Francis ruled the pen with kindness and mud…

Francis, 8x8 pastel

Francis, 8×8 pastel

 

Matilda was a fun loving swine who was always laughing at her own jokes…

Matilda, 8x8 pastel

Matilda, 8×8 pastel

 

The three little pigs were always jostling for attention, but one was more shy than the others…

3 Little Pigs, 10x20 pastel

3 Little Pigs, 10×20 pastel

A peek into the process of creating the 3 Little Pigs:

 

Stay tuned to meet the newest members of the herd…

Retro Icons

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 30, 2014 — Leave a comment

I’m gearing up for my art show next Saturday, April 5th in Crestline! Over the next few days I’ll introduce you to the pieces making their debut and ready to find new homes.

My newest series “Retro South,” is all about history, color and icons of the South, and even more specifically the city I call home: Birmingham.

Take a look and follow the links to read more about each piece:

Yellow Truck

Vulcan

Penny

Sloss Furnace & Airstream

Rusty Train

 

 

 

 

A Rear View

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

It’s been nine years since I sat on the cool marble bench, in a brightly lit room, surrounded by people.

One of my dearest friends by my side, we stared at a very nice, very shapely rear end.

We had quite a conversation about this certain rump, exposed and shining in the overhead light.

We laughed and closed one eye, pretending to give it a pinch from our seats.

We even took a few pictures.

Michelangelo knew how to sculpt a butt. David has quite a nice tushy.

That was not the only time I’ve been mooned by a statue.

We residents of Birmingham, Alabama can be mooned any day of the week by our resident Roman god of the forge, Vulcan.

Sloss Furnace, 12x14 pastel

Sloss Furnace, 12×14 pastel

Vulcan watches over “the Magic City,” which grew so fast in the early 1900s due to the abundance of materials and ability to make iron and steel (hence Sloss Furnaces!). He has a pretty cool story. We had to write reports all about him back in my early school days. Here’s a snippet about Vulcan, but you should really check out Vulcan’s full story.

“Vulcan, Birmingham Alabama’s colossal statue is the world’s largest cast iron statue and considered one of the most memorable works of civic art in the United States. Designed by Italian artist Giuseppe Moretti and cast from local iron in 1904, it has overlooked the urban landscape of Alabama’s largest city since the 1930s.” (source)

So in my pursuit of capturing iconic landmarks and pieces of the “Retro South” with my pastels, I of course am obligated to give homage to Vulcan.

Now, Birmingham residents may notice what I chose to depict in his hand. Vulcan, restored in 1999, now holds a spear. But when I was growing up, he held a lighted torch. It glowed green on days when there were no traffic fatalities, and red when someone had died in an accident.

Perhaps a little strange, a little morbid, a little heavy for kids, but my sister and I were obsessed with seeing if anyone died or not each day. I confess I was a little disappointed when this quirky signal was changed. But hey, my kids still love to see if they can spy Vulcan atop Red Mountain whenever there’s a chance.

And they thought it hilarious the day we were at Vulcan Park, standing on his pedestal overlook, high in the air, looking up at his big naked booty.

Vulcan, 8x13 pastel

Vulcan, 8×13 pastel

Penny

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 14, 2014 — 1 Comment

Quick snap of downtown B'hamWe load up in our late ’80s Dodge minivan, wearing floral dresses stitched by our Granny’s tight hands, with our long hair tied in ribbons. Heading down Red Mountain Expressway, we see the city as we turn the corner.

Nearing the 2nd Avenue exit of downtown Birmingham, my sister and I plaster our noses to the window, waiting for our weekly glimpse of Penny the dog wagging her tail.

Growing up, my family attended the beautifully historic 1st Presbyterian Church of Birmingham, Alabama. We had certain landmarks to look for with each 12-minute journey from our suburban home into the heart of the city.

We always watched for Vulcan, Sloss Furnace, Penny the dog, the castle apartments, and on the way home we loved stopping for a Pete’s Famous Hot Dog.

So here’s my tribute to one of the many Birmingham icons, the Gold Seal Dog Food, and later Birmingham Hide & Tallow Company’s “Penny the Dog.”

Recently restored and moved to the new Region’s Park, home to the Birmingham Barons baseball team, Penny will continue to be a childhood memory for even the smallest Birmingham residents, like my three funny kids.

Penny, 11x12 pastel on card

Penny, 11×12 pastel on card

Birmingham

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 18, 2014 — 1 Comment

This is my city: Birmingham, Alabama. Home sweet home.

Birmingham, 8x16 pastel

Birmingham, 8×16 pastel

Southern Snow Day

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 12, 2014 — 2 Comments

Today is a snow day…but so far it’s a rainy cold day.

We are all waiting and watching the weather, snow supposedly approaching.

Here in the South, snow causes paralysis. You can’t go anywhere, as my previous post of being snow-stranded attests. And if that’s not enough, take a read through last year’s hairy adventure driving home in the snow.

So… it’s a big deal if we might have 4 inches of snow this afternoon.  We’re all home from work and school, some hoping and waiting for snow and some crossing their fingers we miss it (can’t blame them, after our last episode).

I personally love a snow day and adore the falling snowflakes, despite the chaos it can cause. It is a magical thing here in the South; a gift that is never guaranteed. Some winters we have no snow; some only a few flurries; and rarely do we have a big, dangerous event. Remember the ’93 blizzard, anyone? Sleeping by the fire in our den, eating smokey-tasting soup cooked in our fireplace day after day, carving paths through the snow for a lost duck and a cold neighbor… for a week without power…. Fun times.

Feeling the impending winter doom hanging over us in the gray, clouded sky, wondering if we will actually see a snow flake or not, this morning I read an article by Rick Bragg, aptly entitled “Dixie Snow.” Speaking of the wonderment we Southerners feel when it snows, he writes:

I still feel it, some, when I see children rush into a snowfall that could not cover pea gravel. I see them using spatulas and spoons to scrape up enough snow to make the saddest snowmen you have ever seen, more red mud than anything else. They last a day, or a morning, and then become forlorn lumps. I have seen children make snow angels in what, mostly, seemed to be slick gravel. But I love to see them try.

-“Dixie Snow” by Rick Bragg, in Southern Living January 2014

It’s true. Countless images of my kids (okay, okay, and me…) come to mind: rushing outside at the first sign of snow, trying to catch some on your tongue before the flurries stop, making snow angels in a half-inch layer of snow while getting mud on your back, making tiny snowmen just to show you can. It’s a special gift, the magic of snow, when you don’t get to see it everyday.

But as the saying goes, “make sure you have plenty of milk and bread”…

"Snow Angel," 6x6 watercolor doodle

“Snow Angel,” 6×6 watercolor doodle

My Yellow Truck

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 7, 2014 — 1 Comment

So there’s this yellow truck…

I. Love. It.

I don’t know why…It’s just an old yellow truck that lives at the tire store across the street from my neighborhood. The tire people put it inside at night, and park it out front every morning. It’s big, it’s shiny, it’s very yellow. And I love it.

I try to take pictures of it every time I’m close enough, but could never get the whole thing. Finally, thanks to the patience of my daughter, and me looping around a few times in our car, I got the money shot. Well, sort of. There are always bushes blocking the front.

But I rigged it up with a few successful photos and variety of angles, and finally…FINALLY…I present to you my much-awaited “Yellow Truck,” 15×15″ pastel.

Yellow Truck, 15x15 pastel

Yellow Truck, 15×15 pastel

Beulah

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 6, 2014 — Leave a comment

Here’s a much bigger MOO right at you!

Meet Beulah, a big, comfy cow resting in a sunny patch on a green Southern hill… 18×24′ Pastel on Pastelbord

Beulah, 18x24 pastel

Beulah, 18×24 pastel

Retro South

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 4, 2014 — 2 Comments

Over years of creating art, I have noticed cycles of creativity. Every winter, I get a touch of those dreaded “winter blues.” Art to the rescue! Tired of the same old, same old, I try something new. This year, I’ve been very much inspired by the 1940s and 50s, draw to images from that era.

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you’ve seen most of this new art. But it’s past time for the website debut!

Let me introduce to you my new series, “Retro South”:

Airstream sketch

Airstream sketch

Airstream

While my husband drives, I take pictures of the sky, the fields, the cities, old buses…whatever strikes my fancy. My phone is always clogged with potential art subjects. My art journey into the “Retro South” started with a quick snap of my phone camera on a trip through Alabama, when I captured a shiny RV and bright blue skies. I loved the angle, the iconic Southern image it presented.

I turned it into an Airstream, and voila! It was the first in a new journey of Southern art.

Airstream, 12x15 pastel

Airstream, 12×15 pastel

 

Sloss Furnace Sketch

Sloss Furnace Sketch

Sloss Furnace

Next, I moved on to another picture I took from the car window, as we drove through downtown Birmingham. Sloss Furnace is a huge and historic part of my city’s skyline and heritage, and I love it’s rust and age. The significance of Sloss Furnaces is stated best on it’s website:

Sloss Furnaces produced iron for nearly 90 years, which gave rise to the city of Birmingham, AL. Now recognized as a National Historic Landmark, Sloss Furnaces with its web of pipes and tall smokestacks offers us a glimpse into the great industrial past of the South and our nation.

Sloss Furnace, 12x14 pastel

Sloss Furnace, 12×14 pastel

 

The Alabama Theatre

Continuing to tell the story of my place, I painted another historic Birmingham, Alabama landmark: The Alabama Theatre. This beautiful building opened in 1927, and I love to go watch old movies there with popcorn and cherry coke. Check out my earlier post about the Alabama Theatre to see some photos of the gorgeous interior.

Alabama Theatre, 7x12 pastel

Alabama Theatre, 7×12 pastel

Other pictures are coming, and some have already been shown, such as my new “Old Rusty Train.” I have lots of plans for more art, so stay tuned!