Archives For

You can learn a lot of things from the flowers, for especially in the month of June. There’s a wealth of happiness and romance, all in the golden afternoon. … 

-Alice in Wonderland

Honeysuckle Vine, Ink and Pastel Pencil sketch on paper

Honeysuckle Vine, Ink and Pastel Pencil sketch on paper

A quiet Saturday in May, we decided to take a stroll through the neighborhood. Our boy on his bike, Spiderman helmet secured; our eldest first trying out her roller skates, then after squeals and crashes, switching to her bike, sans training wheels; the baby in her stroller until Mommy’s hip sounded like such a better place to ride; Daddy helping the cyclists-in-training.

Golden Afternoon, original photography

The sun shining golden through the shade trees, heavily laden with rich green leaves, adds warmth to the unusually cool Spring day in Alabama. We wind our way in an unplanned pattern through the web of streets and sidewalks. As we’re admiring the fresh cut grass of a friend’s home, half-jealous as ours is still in need of a trim, a sweet scent teases our senses. Briefly caught on the soft breeze, the smell conjures immediate memories of childhood. For a moment, we are all enveloped in a completely carefree moment, gathering around the happily discovered honeysuckle vine, relishing the tiny drops of nectar that hide inside each flower.

A song floated into my mind on the tails of the honeysuckle vine, and I slowly spun and danced down the street singing it to my giggling dimpled baby girl, as the big kids successfully pedaled home. I noticed a neighbor on a porch mid-(not-so-graceful)- spin and, I’m sure, badly sung version of the Alice in Wonderland tune, but I shrugged off any embarrassment and continued our freely twirling walk home, experiencing for a moment that pure, open and innocent enjoyment of all the good things in life.

 

What’s the point?

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 28, 2013 — 3 Comments

“Ah, ignore me. I’ve got a touch of existential flu”  –Inspector Lewis, “Soul of Genius”

Every now and then I have a bout of artists angst.

The Point, original photographyMy creations seem worthless, foolish, juvenile attempts. I ponder questions of the meaning of life, of my daily doings. I wonder internally and externally “What’s the point of it all?”

After purposed distraction away from my “existential flu,” I am able to reflect upon firmer footing. I hear quiet, in-progress answers.

The point of art, of “platform-building,” of more Twitter followers, more Facebook likes, more blog subscribers, art shows…well, of everything really…the point of it all is to share.

At least to me, at least today.

Sometimes our efforts are directed toward success: fame and fortune. Probably not gonna happen. I honestly can’t name a single “famous” living artist. I can name successful, well-known local artists, or respected artists in this particular group or that. But an overarchingly world-famous modern day artist? Not your household name.

Hoping for posthumous fame? It could happen…but why strive only for such a slim, seriously almost impossibly slim, chance? Not my goal… (I mean, hey, if I turn out to be amazing and take the world of art by storm, and am remembered throughout future history, I won’t complain).

Fortune? I sell art  in a satisfying amount, at what I hope are reasonable, accessible prices… Not seeking my fortune.  (yes, I have a day job, as most artists do…)

At this point in my life, the point of my strivings are to collect and share.

To collect pieces of beauty, depth, purpose; to evoke memories, some form ofgoodness, to encourage reflection and change, to share truths small and large as I find them.

It may sound mushy; “sentimental hogwash,” if you will. But I think it is a worthy endeavor.

I think this “point of it all” can be applied everywhere in life. To share what we can with our fellow beings. To share support with those who need it, to foster environments of safety & respite where it is lacking. To share peace & beauty when things seem dim, to share some sort of goodness in a world that holds on to much pain. To share a presence and an understanding that life is not easy, and you are not alone.

“We’re all in this thing together
Walkin’ the line between faith and fear
This life don’t last forever
When you cry I taste the salt in your tears”
-Old Crow Medicine Show

Hee Haw

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 25, 2013 — Leave a comment

So I drew a donkey. He is up close and personal. He is stately and thoughtful. He is probably stubborn and temperamental. And he really needed a name. 

"Donkey Hotey," 11x14 soft pastel on card

For this important task, I turned to my friends on Twitter and Facebook. I got tons of great feedback from peeps all around the world:

Blue, Don Burro the 3rd, Ned, Sir Yeknod, Trevor, Hector, BrayPitt, Platero, Daniel, Donk, Charles, Rabbit, Darcy, Murray, Homer, and I have to admit my favorite:

@sbarrphoto: “Hotey, that way he is Donkey Hotey, to dream the impossible dream.”

You dream that impossible dream, Hotey. Dream big.

 

 

This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none. and this little piggy…went “wee, wee, wee!” all the way home…

Well, this little piggy was meant for market, and this little piggy found a new home. My fastest sale ever thanks to a lovely lady from the Birmingham area, he made a quick debut on Facebook and used his charm to find his own place in the world. He is a happy little fellow!

"Oink," 8x10 soft pastel on card, sold

“Pig #3,” 8×10 soft pastel on card, sold

While I was drawing this pig, I remembered a scene from my childhood…one of triumph and pride that I carried with me for quite some time. I confess, it’s been awhile since I thought of it. But how could I forget?!

It was the Alabama State Fair, circa 1985. I was there with my family, perched on my mom’s hip. I can still picture the scene, in that long-ago, fuzzy kid-vision we have of moments that make a great impression…the colors, the noise, the smell of hay. Continue Reading…

Alabama Goods

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 21, 2013 — Leave a comment

After sitting on my work for quite some time (having an infant makes it difficult to keep up!), I am happy to announce that my pastel “Pieces of the South” are now available at Alabama Goods in downtown Homewood, Alabama.

The specialty store will carry my large and small pastels of cows, pigs, cotton…all things Southern!

Here are a few of my new pieces that have made their way to the shop…

"Moo," 8x8 pastel on card

“Moo,” 8×8 pastel on card

all framed up

all framed up

"This Little Piggy," 8x8 soft pastel

“This Little Piggy,” 8×8 soft pastel

 

Surprise!

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 15, 2013 — Leave a comment

Art desk scrubbed, pastels ready, paper cut, charcoal in hand, reference propped at just the right angle…

Deep, contemplative breath in, nervous exhale as I prepare to begin another portrait.

Grasping for my inner creative, I look at the photo reference, with the jet black backdrop behind this cute chubby baby, and I try to envision the finished product. I used to aim to be a camera: copy the image as exactly as possible. With some experience and years of art behind me, this is no longer my goal. I now try to take an image and “make it sing,” however that translates on paper.

Baby Boy, 11x14 preliminary sketch

Baby Boy, 11×14 preliminary sketch

I sketch out the sweet little boy; feel pretty good about feature placement. Now it’s time for the dreaded background. In my mind’s eye, I see a light, wispy something or other, which is not much help. Instead of agonizing over it, I just jump in.

Working on a deadline, I don’t have time to mess around.

The joy of being back at my art desk after a few busy weeks, mixed with determination to get the portrait finished, ended up surprising me with yet another evolution of my art.

I’ve found over the years, that even though you are creating art with your own hand, your own head and your own heart, the results can sometimes surprise you. Though you may have drawn something in the same way many, many times, all of a sudden the finished product is something unexpectedly and delightfully different.

With this portrait, I unknowingly used a lighter, looser hand, less defined edges, and worked the color and texture of my pastel card into the painting. I was (thankfully) quite happy with this new result, and am very glad that the new owners are as well!

Baby Boy, 11x14 pastel on card

Baby Boy, 11×14 pastel on card

The Yellow Haze

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 10, 2013 — Leave a comment

My car covered in pollenSpring has sprung in Alabama, and with its advent comes the yellow haze. The dreaded pollen influx has enveloped our neighborhoods, coated our cars, and invaded our lungs. Yellow clouds are stirred by the wind like sand storms. We’re all on Zyrtec in order to survive.

But with all this yellow dust, comes the most beautiful array of Spring flowers. Now, if anyone cares to notice, I don’t often draw flowers. I think flowers are fabulous (hint, hint to my husband); but I’m just not a huge fan of choosing them as my subject. I’ve drawn them occasionally: daffodils, camellias, magnolias…

Do thistles count? Continue Reading…

It seems to be a normal part of life that days never proceed as planned.

Office PrankI’m a planner…a list-maker extraordinaire. At work, I’m known for my broad use of sticky notes, so much so that the other day I found my office covered in notes, a joke from a supportive friend and coworker.

My expectations are so regularly thwarted by the not-unwelcome interference of life in family and community, that I’m slowly learning to relax and enjoy each moment as it comes, whether its on my list or a curve ball from left field.

As an artist with a “day job” and young family, art usually must take a back seat. I don’t have as much time as I used to for reflective, (I won’t even try to say uninterrupted) creativity. When I encounter a long stretch without creating, my mood definitely drops and I have to find a moment for at least a quick sketch.

My baby girl is about to turn one year old; my son will be starting kindergarten at elementary school in August; my 1st grade daughter has lost four teeth and can write her own stories; I’ve been married almost 11 years to my wonderful husband. Those busy days that usurp my sticky-noted lists are bearable-and enjoyable- because I know how fast time flies.

One morning before school, an amazing teacher and friend spoke in tearful reflection about her youngest daughter in her last year of high school. She shared some very wise, yet simple words that have settled and taken root in my heart:

“I look back on when my kids were young and realize it didn’t matter if my house was clean. Time with them has gone by so fast.”

I think of those words and that emotion often. When I get frustrated by my derailed plans, or my crumby table, or the mountain of laundry, I look at my family, at the trees, at my hands, and remember that life comes as a gift to us, one day at a time.

If I don’t relish life as much as I can, as each moment passes, it seems to pass like water through my fingers.

I am thankful for this day and all that it brings; may my eyes be open to its moments, and my breath be deep enough to absorb the minutes and make them count.

“Always remember that the future comes one day at a time.” -Dean Acheson

Making a List

Making a List, charcoal and conte sketch on paper

Out of the Box with Mary Liz Ingram

Picture

Come discover a new side to working with soft pastels!
Join award-winning pastel artist Mary Liz Ingram, and learn how to paint stunning landscapes. Mary Liz will demonstrate techniques to move you beyond traditional light & smooth pastel drawings to pastel paintings alive with brilliant color. We will be creating two finished pastel landscapes, large and miniature. You’ll achieve great results that will have people guessing your medium! Click here for details, and visit Forstall Art Center’s website for more info.
Saturday, May 4, 10-4pm.
Forstall Art Center, Birmingham, Alabama
$85, supplies needed, lunch included.

It was a few weeks ago, I was driving with the flow of before-work traffic, sipping my blessedly fragrant coffee out of my travel mug and listening to NPR, while my son counted repeatedly to 100 and my baby threw her toys around. I heard snippets of an interview with Facebook CEO Sheryl Sandberg. Between listening to counting, stopping and going down the highway, and planning for the day ahead, one piece stayed with me: Sandberg’s favorite workplace poster: “What Would You Do If You Weren’t Afraid?”

That got me to thinking. Mary Liz, what WOULD you do if you weren’t afraid? That half-answered and waiting question floats in and out of my head from time to time.

What would you do if you weren’t afraid…

I would stand up for what is right, for what I believe is good and true. I would take action when opportunity arises to make the world a better place.

I would do these things in spite of fear of what others would think, who would disagree, who might think of my beliefs with distaste, or question me. If I were not afraid, I would be a better person, I think.

So I’m going to try to take steps as they come, to do more good with less fear. I’m sure the lesson should be much deeper, the deeds greater, but you have to start somewhere.

So I start here. I support and want to encourage equality among people…we are all human, we all feel love and hate, sadness and joy; we are a mixed up lot and disagree so much because we are all unique. But no matter our circumstance, we are in this together, in flesh and blood, living and breathing. We all have a story, half-hidden, so do not judge; I won’t judge you.

“Be kind. Everyone you meet is in the midst of a great struggle.” -Plato

Marriage Equality, 3x3 pastel on card

Marriage Equality, 3×3 pastel on card