Archives For charcoal

Loyalty

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 12, 2016 — Leave a comment

We have busy minds. We are always in the process of becoming. For better or worse, our thoughts, actions and choices move us forward, or maybe backward, along the line of history and personal quest. I frequently get caught up in the existential throes of being an artist, of trying to be the best person I can be for the time I have on earth.

One morning I was thinking about fear,

how to overcome it, how to lessen the fear around us. I realized that most cruelty, most fear comes from us, from humans. We humans, more than any other species, threaten each other – with hate, with guns, with war, with irresponsibility, with greed and robbery, with anger and disregard for human life. Recently two young boys that I count as nearly my own had a gun pointed at them while they were simply playing near their porch, and this in a safe neighborhood. There was no cause or prompting, just a quick move by a man with unknown motives. It causes fear. Fear that must be overcome daily.

May we live with more peace and regard for each other. May we treat each other with love and loyalty, as members of the human race, members of creation.

Peas, ink & markerI hope we can learn from the example that surrounds us, the peaceful cooperation found in nature. The trees, the soil, the birds, the animals work together to survive and thrive with beauty.

In my garden, I witness a microcosm that balances and cooperates to bear fruit. Insects, bacteria, nutrients, soil, water, sun, roots, leaves…it all works together to form food we can eat, beauty we can enjoy. And I get to be a caretaker, to guide and protect the process. May we do the same in our everyday lives, care for each other, guard the process of becoming.

At this point, I hear Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life,  waving dismissively, “Sentimental hogwash!” Maybe I’m laying it on a big too thick. To bring it a few steps down from mushiness, I hope we can be  more like our dogs. Our pets love us, even when we act like jerks, when we ignore them or forget to buy dog food. They are loyal and forgiving, and their love is constant. We are the ones who complicate things.

Here are a few furry friends that now have their portraits painted, a testament to their worth and value, and their loyalty to a fickle race.

Rest, 11x14 pastel on card

Rest, 11×14 pastel on card

 

Gift Cards

Mary Liz Ingram —  December 1, 2015 — Leave a comment

Sometimes it’s so hard to choose a piece of art for a friend! Or you want to commission a portrait for a family member, but you’re not sure which photo they would like. If you’re stuck, I have an option for you:

Gift Cards for artwork!

Gift cards can be purchased in any amount and are redeemable for commissioned or available pastel paintings of chosen value. From pastel portraits, to ink doodles, to watercolors…so many options available for your friend or family member to choose from!

Gift Card

Gift cards will be written for the amount paid & purchase intention noted (ex: 5×7 framed pastel; 8×10 unframed portrait, etc.). Gift cards will be signed by the artist for authenticity. Those receiving gift cards may upgrade to higher-priced artwork by paying the balance. 

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.

Baby Brothers

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 11, 2014 — 1 Comment

Recently I had the great pleasure to do three precious portraits of baby brothers. They are such cute little babies, I just kept staring at them while they rested on my art desk!

Here’s a peek at my portrait process:

There’s always that middle point, when I begin to cover the bright colors, when I panic. And babies especially make me sweat, with their smooth little faces. You have to be so careful to keep all shadows and lines subtle, to keep their chubby cheeks chubby and their newness young.

Introducing three cute little buddies, and a huge thanks for this fun commission!

Baby Brother, 8x10 pastel

Baby Brother, 8×10 pastel

Baby Brother, 8x10 pastel

Baby Brother, 8×10 pastel

 

Baby Brother, 8x10 pastel

Baby Brother, 8×10 pastel

 

Big Brag…

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 4, 2014 — 1 Comment

Please excuse this blatant brag post…

I must. I can’t help it.

I received this email last week about my oldest child, and I’m so proud of her that I just have to share!

Good Morning,
 
I wanted to let you know that your daughter is my February Student Spotlight! This month teachers were looking for students in their classrooms who show “Tolerance”. This is a student who recognizes and respects the opinions, practices, or behaviors of others-even if they are different from his/her own-and welcomes new experiences and people into his/her life! She will be recognized at an assembly…. and this will remain a surprise for her until our counselor recognizes these students during the morning announcements sometime next week!

As I write this, she doesn’t know of the award. I love that she is being honored for something that just comes naturally to kids, but seems so difficult for so many adults.

We can learn so much from the small ones in our world, if we just pay attention, watch & listen.

Daughter, charcoal sketch

Daughter, charcoal sketch

Intermission over, the curtains raise. The mother enters.

Scene 3: Piano & Jumper Cables

Another night passes and we find the mother once again fixing breakfast in the kitchen. Boosted by the happy ending of her suspendered adventure of the previous day, her outlook is bright.

The work day commences and comes to a well-ordered end in time to make an early carpool arrival – ensuring a timely appearance for her daughter’s second piano lesson. In line for half an hour, with snacks prepared and resting thoughtfulness underway, she sketches and thinks and waits.

Rear View Mirror Doodle, ink on napkin

Rear View Mirror Doodle, ink on napkin

Ah, the cars crank and brake lights glow. Ready for the slow crawl around the corner towards the school, she turns the key. Tick tick tick – nothing.

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick – nothing.

Nothing, Nothing, NOTHING!!!!!

It’s too much. It’s the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

With wide, glazing eyes she waves the moving carpool line around her unmoving car. She calls her husband and her mother and her stamina fails.

She cries.

She sits in carpool line and cries. Pitiful.

Knowing the eagerly awaited piano lesson will be missed, she sits deflated and calls the instructor. But wait! Cancellations have been made and another lesson time is available whenever the mother can get there! Saved from the tears of her daughter on top of her own, another surprise approaches.

A kind stranger, circling back, pulls in front and signals for the mother to pop the hood. With jumper cables and an understanding smile, with his bouncing daughter watching from the back seat, he starts her car! Again, the mother cries, but this time overwhelmed by the kindness of others.

The day is saved and the mother carries on.

 

Scene 4: Sanitized Lungs

Night falls and the tired mother sinks into the couch, a glass of wine and a heated blanket. Surely, surely, that’s enough fun for one week. With an inner pep-talk, she tells herself that tomorrow is Friday…just plain Friday. Work and done.

Morning comes and father is ill.

With little sympathy where there should be more, the groggy mother impatiently fusses at father for not taking his medicine. Upon further discussion over medicinal locations, and the lack of discovery, she exclaims in short-tempered exasperation “You’re a MAN!!!” and stomps to the shower. Poor father, getting the brunt of a bad week at 6:00am.

With a haggard disposition and weary eyes, she puts her head down and pushes through the day. A pendulum of kindness and frustration, she tries to regain her balance and clarity. She takes father to the doctor, with three silly kids bobbing and chattering behind her.

Lysol

Lysol

The diagnosis seems a cruel joke: severe flu and bronchitis.

Father is settled onto the couch, as quarantined as one can get in a small home of five people. The mother takes a deep, careful breath and puts on another metaphorical hat, dosing medication and spraying lots of Lysol. A spaghetti dinner and chicken noodle soup are readily provided by friends, and the mother continues to scurry back and forth around the house, tidying and germ-killing and care-taking.

Sitting at her desk in the quiet of an afternoon family rest, the mother reflects upon the strange, yet ordinary stories of a long, long week. There always seems to be a snag, a hole, a bump, a crash that must be navigated. She knows you can’t change it, you just have to take what comes and find some humor in each adventure. It helps her carry on and find a warm spot to rest at the end of the day.

Curtain closes.

“Maybe we do the right things, maybe we do the wrong, spending each day, wending our way along. But when we want to sing, we sing. When we want to dance, we dance. You can do your betting, we’re getting some fun out of life.” -Some Fun Out of Life, Madeleine Peyroux

Tired Tiara, charcoal sketch

Tired Artist with Tiara, charcoal sketch

 

Check out the previous installments:

Such is Life, Act 4 part 1

Such is Life, Act 1

Such is Life, Act 2

Such is Life, Act 3

Cottage Charcoal

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 7, 2014 — Leave a comment

This Christmas, I was honored to draw a very old cottage located in Americus, Georgia.It was an old civil war doctor’s office that was moved and restored into a one bedroom cottage.

It’s so fun to be a part of meaningful and lasting gifts!

Belle Nuit

Mary Liz Ingram —  September 1, 2013 — Leave a comment

C’était une belle soirée pour un dîner d’anniversaire. Nous avons eu martinis et le dîner au restaurant Chez Fonfon. La nuit était chaude, le soleil couchant d’or. Nous avons eu une petite table romantique pour deux. Je ne parle pas français. J’utilise un traducteur, donc je ne suis pas sûr de ce que j’ai réellement dit. J’espère que c’est juste!

Mais je m’égare.

Ah, if only I’d spent my birthday dinner in Paris…

Highland Martini, charcoal sketch

Highland Martini, charcoal sketch

 

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

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