Archives For drawing

Achilles Heel

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 9, 2014 — Leave a comment

Achilles heel, meet Mary Liz’s eye.

An artist needs her eye. My eye’s have always been in good shape. I can draw tiny things, see tiny things.

Until my eye met paper. Paper got a little too up close and personal over a week ago.

With one fell swoop, I was down for the count.

I felt incapacitated.

I sat around with my eyes closed for two and a half days. I wasn’t sick, so I wasn’t tired and didn’t want to keep sleeping. I couldn’t watch TV, read, look at much at all. When I opened my eye, it felt like glass and razor blades were in there, so I kept it closed and found my “happy place.” A reposed into a zen-like state and tried to wait it out. Heal, eye, heal!!!

It was a strange forced experiment: What can you see with your eyes shut?

You can see a lot, actually.

Eyes Closed, ink doodle

Eyes Closed, ink doodle

I knew how to walk around my house without peeking. I could eat without missing my mouth. I could find my purse in the car, rummage in the right pocket, find my gum, unwrap it, put it in my mouth, and put the trash in the right spot without looking. I could brush my teeth, I could get dressed, I could fix my hair in a bun or pony tail without opening my eyes. I knew where we were on the roads driving to and from the eye doctor. If I categorized it, the stuff I could “see” was the “boring” stuff: the routine, the normal, the everyday. But it was amazing how accurate you can be without seeing.

After a few days, the pain was a bit better thanks to the eye doctor and lots of eye drops. That’s when I started wearing my sunglasses at night…and all the time. As I write, I’m still wearing my sunglasses.  This is for two reasons: #1 so the light doesn’t bother my eye, #2 so my odd looking eye doesn’t bother your eyes.

They look a little “mismatched,” we’ll say, due to my eyedrops. The upside is I get ready quicker since I don’t put on eye make up!

Wonky, ink doodle

Wonky, ink doodle

 

Sunglasses at Night, ink doodle

Sunglasses at Night, ink doodle

While the healing process has been dragging on and on and on, I know and have been told it will be fine. My vision is all blurry, but my right eye is working hard to help out it’s neighbor while he (or she?) recovers. Now that I’m getting better at just using the one eye – and I’m much better at “winking” than I used to be – I drew a few doodles from the photos I’d texted to my family, showing my “eye report” for the day. Hope they don’t freak you out 😉 (that’s my squinty eye smiley).

Luckily, my eye injury will not lead to my downfall like Achilles’ heel.

Just a temporary, semi shut-down.

Still, it’s amazing what destruction one tiny corner of paper can do!

I leave you with this important lesson: DON’T EVER PAPER CUT YOUR EYE!!!

Nora

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 4, 2014 — 1 Comment

A portrait really is something special.

Of all the art in my house (and I have a lot, as you can imagine), the ones that make me stop and stare and think and smile are the portraits of my three kids.

I grew up with an artist for a grandmother. Her den was filled with family portraits that she painted. I could describe every detail, because I spent so much time looking at them. When she died, everyone took their portraits home, a treasure that lasts. She made them with her own hands, and her children and grandchildren pass them down.

Now I have the honor to do that for my own children, and for other people. I love to look at the pastels I’ve drawn of my three buddies, and think (or hope) that one day they will treasure them in their own home. Something lovingly made by an adoring mother, attempting to express what treasures they are by creating a piece of art to capture a moment.

If you’d like me to create a lasting treasure for your family, check out my portrait page. I’d love to get started and create something meaningful for someone you love too.

Now let me share my newest piece, finally adding my little Nora to the wall, next to her brother and sister. I will have this piece on display at my art show in Crestline tomorrow, April 5th.

Nora, 18x24 pastel

Nora, 18×24 pastel

Sweet Home Alabama

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 3, 2014 — 1 Comment

This is a new venture. A whim that came to me and I decided to go for it.

I think they’re a fun way to celebrate the South, and I have lots of ideas to keep me going.

With the blue skies of Alabama as a backdrop (cue the music…”Sweet home Alabama…where the skies are so blue…”), each 5×7 pastel of my state describes a color of the South:

Clockwise from top left: “Grass,” “Dirt,” “Rust,” “Camellia” (state flower!), “Wood,” “Yellowhammer” (state bird!).

Colors of the South, each 5x7 pastel

Colors of the South, each 5×7 pastel

Come see my Alabamas in person for the first time this Saturday, April 5th at the Crestline Art Show! I’ve already sold 2 before it starts!

Trailing along with the pigs & cows, here comes the goose and hens…Framed up and ready to find new homes next Saturday, April 5th at the MBAA Crestline Spring Show!

The old goose cared for the ducklings and led the ducks around the lake, never bothering that they were different fowls…

Goose, 4x4 pastel

Goose, 4×4 pastel

 

The old gray hen was a force to be reckoned with. She stood alone and kept constant watch…

Hen, 4x4 pastel

Hen, 4×4 pastel

 

She was always a very nosy bird, unafraid to stop and stare…

Here's Looking at You, 8x8 pastel

Here’s Looking at You, 8×8 pastel

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

 

 

 

 

Cherries on Top

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 20, 2014 — Leave a comment

Today was sweet and sour.

Beginning with morning cereal and milk, the day quickly spoiled as the scent of sewage came wafting from my laundry room.

An unusually complicated, multiple detour, traffic battling drive to work added a splash of vinegar to the mix.

Already a day in bad taste, heavy circumstances added a heavy helping of more nastiness to the recipe of the day.

Come midday, this unpleasant parfait of rotten luck took a better turn.

Plumbing troubles swiftly fixed with only a kind charge of creative trade pushed the stinky mix off the plate.

The sun shone brighter, my heart felt lighter, my prospects were certainly more palatable.

A successful elementary school talent show added a simple sweetness to the afternoon.

The evening topped off with a warm family dinner, a gift in good taste.

A surprise entree by a knowledgable waiter added a touch of culinary adventure.

The end to this sweet and sour day was a bowl of cherries – literally.

A fun treat from a generous waiter.

A much needed reminder.

No matter what blunders and sewage may come,

“Life is a bowl of cherries.”

And meant to be enjoyed…

Bowl of Cherries, marker

Bowl of Cherries, marker

 

Spring Prelude

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 19, 2014 — 2 Comments

Morning 1

In the Mist, watercolor & ink

In the Mist, watercolor & ink

It is a gray spring morning, damp and cold, when new buds are barely making a show.

Branches like gnarled claws, grasping into the mist that shrouds my morning drive.

The air is still and heavy, a floating moisture clings to my hair and coats the ground, muffling and capturing the sounds of waking birds.

A calm beginning, a waiting quiet, resting before the bright burst of spring.

 

Morning 2

Cherry Blossoms, ink doodle

Cherry Blossoms, ink doodle

A sleepy morning takes its turn, as warm rays burst through the heavy clouds.

Yesterday’s fog is lifted and I close my eyes to the renewing glow.

Cherry blossoms turn their face to the sun, opening bit by bit as winter fades.

Hope arrives as dreary days pass away and nature drinks in the light.

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