Archives For drawing

Making a List

Making a List, charcoal and conte sketch on paper

On the first day of Christmas sketches...

For my first lesson in making my holiday season more peaceful, I took a cue from the big man in the red suit and made a list.

There were so many tasks, wishes, duties and plans whirling in my head that it was just a big Christmas blur. No peace would come by leaving my mental state in such a mess!

During the kids’ downtime, I spent about an hour making my list, giving thought to my plans (hmmm, what kinds of gifts does mom like?), reserving time on my calendar for upcoming tasks (Christmas commissions!), getting the easy jobs done (send in that $5 for the class Christmas party!).

This organization had several benefits:

  • my list relieved me of the fear of forgetting something important
  • writing it down made what seemed so overwhelming, not so bad once prioritized
  • having it down helped me form a clearer mental space from which my thoughts can grow…(now about that present for mom…)

For me, once I have a tentative map through the holidays, the Christmas Can-Can subsides, and it all seems much more manageable. It’s like eating your broccoli first…I got the bad part out of the way, and now the good stuff can be enjoyed.

Take that, partridge.

a Partridge in a Pear Tree

a Partridge in a Pear Tree

 

Reflection, Quick Graphite Sketch… I gave a speech today. I dont like public speaking…not one bit. In seminary, I took all the classes but the preaching classes. I love teaching; I can lead a pastel demonstration for hours and actually get energy from “speaking while doing.” But at a podium with a microphone? No thank you. I’ll do it, I’ll try my best, but I don’t like it. Who does like public speaking anyway? Oh right, my HUSBAND, who happens to be really great at it. Continue Reading…

Tidy Up

marylizingramart —  August 12, 2012 — 1 Comment

Shoes, Graphite Sketch… Sunday, a day of rest and renewal; a time to reset. Sundays have become a mental health day for me…I tidy up, listen to music, drink slow cups of coffee, think about life. I shake off the stress and rediscover the joy. I clean up the grime, and unearth the shine of love and life; breathe in fresh air, notice my surroundings, find peace in my place. It keeps me going, week after week. Today I drew my little boy’s line of shoes: the epitome of tidiness in our house, since his room is always the messiest. “We are not afraid to look under the bed, or to wash the sheets; we know that life is messy. We know that somebody has to clean it up, and that only if it is cleaned up can we hope to start over, and get better.” -Marsha Norman, quoted in Real Simple, May 2012

My POV

marylizingramart —  July 21, 2012 — 2 Comments

Hay Bale, Graphite Sketch…My husband and I have a ritual; it helps us decompress after our busy days, and is a routine time to relax and enjoy being together. Each night once the kids are tucked in bed, we sit on the couch, each with a glass of milk and two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, to watch one of our recorded shows. Last night we watched the Next Food Network Star. Each Star hopeful must have a “POV,” a “Point of View” that would make their own Food Network show unique. Two weeks of my daily drawings are now complete, and over morning coffee, I reflected upon my “POV”…my own point of view around which my art revolves. I know art doesn’t have to have a “point” or a “meaning,” that it can be art for art’s sake, but my organized self loves to have everything in its place, categorized and grouped. I want my art to fit together and have a meaning, a purpose, a POV. When I reflect upon my daily drawings, I see the common thread of my own human experience: family, relationships, love, warmth, what surrounds me in my place, what is important to me in my life. Linking the theme of my sketches with my current pastels and paintings, my POV emerges as, in my husband’s words, “Southern eclectic”: a mixture of rural and city, objects and figures, past and present…the story of my place. I find warmth, family, richness and beauty in the South, in its porches and fields, its trees and marshes, its people and history, its rust and wood. A representation of the story of humanity, the South is a tightly woven tapestry of good and bad, hospitality and hatred, comfort and pain, smiles and sorrow. Despite its dark threads, my South triumphs with beauty, with color, with life, with strength; in my place and through my art, I hope to reveal and foster greater peace, honest love, and a warm, genuine reality of Southern hospitality, a welcoming with open arms.

Daddy’s Home

marylizingramart —  July 20, 2012 — Leave a comment

Daddy’s Home, graphite sketch…Today’s big event is that “Daddy is home!” My kids have been counting down to this day all week. Just as my dad did for my sister and I when he travelled, my husband always brings our kids a “prize.” This week he was in rural Alabama, not a place very conducive to buying souvenirs, but he nonetheless came home with some very interesting treasures! Cue the knitted Spiderman finger puppet made in Ecuador. It makes me laugh (it’s so odd!), and it made our son very excited. So here’s a fuzzy little Spidey: a celebration of homecoming, family and the funny things in life!

Nora, 3 months, Graphite Sketch…Today is the birthday of Edgar Degas, the French Impressionist famous for his figures of ballerinas, bathers, and other turn-of-the-century subjects. He also happens to be my favorite artist and major influence on my own art. I especially love Degas’ pastels…the vibrant contrasts, the intense markings, the vivid colors. His preparatory sketches are often a combination of strong, dark shadows mixed with precise, yet loose, lines. I like to study his work and absorb what I can into my own way of seeing color and interpreting subjects. In homage to Degas, I chose a figure drawing for my daily sketch, drawing my sleeping baby girl (who was a bit squirmier than I expected, once drawing commenced!) I used my darkest pencil, marking in the shadows, contemplating the art of Degas as I recorded this day in my baby’s young life.

The Tub, Edgar Degas, Pastel

Two Dancers Resting, Edgar Degas