Mary Liz Ingram Art | Tag Archive

Chalk War

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

Summer is a haven of slow enjoyment. The air is hot and heavy here, and it pulls our busy lives to a slower pace, like a gentle tug of the shirt. Languid afternoons, the summer sun presses and the chirping bugs lull. Children find mischief and explore, and you begin to feel more like a child yourself as the summer nights lengthen and fireflies glow.

Moments become picturesque.

One Sunday afternoon my children were overjoyed to join the youth for a “chalk war” at church. My little son covered in a tie dye of colors, his small hands scooping up the colorful powder, the ground a wash of rainbows…

A moment to capture in art.

Chalk War, 9x12 pastel on homemade paper

Chalk War, 9×12 pastel on homemade paper

For a little background on the paper, earlier in the summer one of our not-so-fun activities was cleaning out the art room. My budding artists use A LOT of paper. In the spirit of creative responsibility, we decided to make new paper out of our old paper. We tore it, soaked it, smushed it, diluted it, screened it, squeezed it, dried it and voila! Paper.

In Uncategorized activity, Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, chalk, doodle, drawing, family, handmade, Ingram, kids, Liz, Mary, paper, pastel, pastels, soft pastel, Southern, summer

The Feisty Blue

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

Blue Jay, pastel on handmade paper

A mass of blue jays scatter the trees

Hopping mad they scream out angry calls

From the branch to the roof to the bush to the sky

A flurry of feisty blue

They eye the ground intensely

Switching positions without pause

I stop and stare at the feathered spectacle

Counting the moving birds in vain

Five no six, they hop and caw and screech

Wary of their sharp eyes and open beaks

I creep forward and spot a foe

A white cat perches nimbly among the azalea

With a shake of the bush, the cat escapes

The jays begin a cautious lessening

Still emitting a jumbled unity of warning

Such fierce attention and determined vehemence

Encased in those feathers of blue

In Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, bird, Birmingham, blue jay, drawing, Ingram, Liz, Mary, pastel, pastels, poem, poetry, soft pastel

Summer Rain

Mary Liz Ingram — July 28, 2014 — Leave a comment

Rainy Day, ink doodle

The sweet, hot smell of the first drops of a summer rain

Like an old friend we welcome it back and it steams off the baked asphalt

We inhale the familiar scent of renewed life

Saved from drought, the parched earth soaks up every drip

We rush outside in our bare feet, my little one giggles at the spray

The rain trickles down her nose, curls her wet hair and it plasters to her cheeks

Water beads on her little arms and drips off her chubby elbows

All smiles, dimples, rain and dirt, she plays with sticks

She stirs mud with her toes, the ground that was hard and dusty minutes before

A good summer rain that restores the dry soul

It lifts drooping leaves and greens the earth with life like resurrection

: Rainy Day Doodles, ink sketches

: Dripping Fingers, ink doodle

: Splashing Sidewalk, ink doodle

In Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, children, doodle, drawing, family, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, poem, poetry, portrait, rain, sketch, summer

A Sense of Place

Mary Liz Ingram — July 26, 2014 — Leave a comment

“Love in this world doesn’t come out of thin air. It is not something thought up. Like ourselves, it grows out of the ground. It has a body and a place.” -Wendell Berry

Blueberries, ink doodle

Listening to Old Crow Medicine Show, I’m standing in the kitchen in a summer dress and apron, hair pulled up and wrapped round with a yellow bandana scarf, barefoot in good Alabama style.

A colander full of fresh-picked blueberries from the farm, I begin to make a big double batch of blueberry muffins, ready to share with my neighbors and family…aiming for a little Southern hospitality.

I’m thinking of my “sense of place”…what that means to me, what is my place.

I may feel a pull to other places, such as the free hills of Britain, but here, standing in my kitchen in the middle of a hot, Southern summer, I am in the middle of my life.

I stir my muffin batter and dump in my blueberries, wondering what good I can do in this complicated, messy, humid, growing city of Birmingham, Alabama.

: Muffin Doodles, ink sketches

: Eggs & Sugar, ink doodle

: Blueberry Muffins, ink doodle

In Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, blueberry, doodle, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, muffins, place, share, sketch, Southern, story, summer, thoughts

Blueberry Pickin’

Mary Liz Ingram — July 24, 2014 — Leave a comment

Thanks to the fabulous suggestion of a dear friend, we loaded up our little family in our little car, picked up the always wonderful Dariana Dervis (check out her art work, by the way!), and drove out to her friend’s blueberry farm.

Hats on, buckets ready, bushes loaded with fat blueberries, we began picking away. Even our little 2-year-old cutie did a great job finding the blue ones…pretty sure she ate every other blueberry.

Blueberry Picking, ink doodle

With full bags of little berries, we headed back home, sweaty, happy and full of blueberries.

Tire Swing, ink doodle

In Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, blueberry, doodle, drawing, family, farm, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, sketch, Southern, summer, tire swing

Typewriter

Mary Liz Ingram — July 22, 2014 — Leave a comment

My newest whim weighs a lot.

And I love it.

A lot.

But why read it like this…when you can read my story like this:

Typewriter, ink doodle

That’s right. I typed that on my awesome new…well, old…Royal typewriter. And yes, I’m still in training…lots of mistakes.

My typewriter was born in 1956, same as my dad. And even better, thanks to my typewriter, we got to meet the fabulous Billy Hagood at Alabama Typewriter Co. on 6th Avenue in downtown Birmingham.

With my heavy typewriter resting in the trunk, my sweet daughter and I headed down University into the city. After a few more turns, we came to a little building, its name in white on a dark green awning, and crunched into the gravel parking lot.

Armed with my load, I backed my way through the door into a room completely filled with typewriters and stacks of papers. Old typewriters that reminded me of Singer Sewing Machines, electric typewriters like the one I used when I was little…all shapes, colors, and sizes, rows and rows and rows.

A man in a striped collared shirt and apron met us and with purposeful outstretched arms, he took my precious burden and set it on the only clear spot in sight. Slightly shorter than me, he asked me questions about my dirty typewriter, promising to fix it and “make it something to be proud of.”

Mr. Billy, ink doodle

Turning to my daughter, he told her that “any writer worth something types on a typewriter.” She was mesmerized by him and his shop full of typewriters, and I am also so grateful for a unique experience…one I hope won’t disappear.

It’s neat to preserve and USE a piece of history.

It sits proudly on our desk, waiting and inviting me to type and think and tell stories. My kids think it is awesome, and they love a turn to push the keys. I type on it every day…nonsense, good thoughts, whatever I want.

In Uncategorized Alabama, Alabama Typewriter Co, Art, artist, Billy Hagood, Birmingham, doodle, drawing, Ingram, ink, Liz, Mary, Royal, sketch, story, thoughts, type, typewriter

Wide World: Full Circle

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

An artistic pilgrimage.

Across the same bridge over the River Seine to the same, small green shopfront near the Louvre.

I stood in front of Sennelier for the second time.

Last time I was there, there was no art career. There was a lifetime of interest and dabbling, but no career. I bought my first pastels there, after hearing about Sennelier on NPR. That same year, I embarked on a career change, determined to make art a way of life.

And here I stood, years later, in front of the store that feeds my art and brings my pastels into being. We went inside and I touched the worn, wooden drawers containing every color pastel. We maneuvered around the cramped, aged art store, past the old wooden ladder and over to the notebooks. I made my choices and with a timid “Merci” purchased some notebooks, future home of new doodles. Something I can keep.

Like standing in the English field among the sheep that I’d drawn so often, standing in Sennelier was another step in coming full circle. But it was not the last.

Mont Martre.

With our umbrellas and soggy shoes, we left our lunch at the Eiffel Tower with our sights set on Mont Martre, the gathering place for artists past and present. Last time our visit to Paris was so brief, we only had time to touch this section of the city. Rain or no rain, we would soak it in and look over all of Paris from the hill of Sacre Cour.

: Mont Martre, ink doodle

: Mont Martre, ink doodle

Laughing and out of breath, we slipped and climbed up the steep sidewalks to the top of Mont Martre. Navigating through umbrellas, we wove our way past cafes and windmills, artists shielding their work from the wet weather. With easy smiles and free spirits, we leaned on the fence in front of Sacre Cour, the carousel below us and Paris spreading its arms as far as we could see.

Sacre Cour, marker & ink doodle

We moved down the steps like children and stood in front of the carousel, watching it spin and entertain. I knew every piece, a former pastel now shared in a home somewhere in Alabama. A piece of Paris.

Carousel, marker & ink doodle

My art career has grown and my life has deepened over the years. The beginning, the inspiration, the moments have come full circle with this trip of pilgrimage. I have said my thanks and recognized those things, those places and those people that have moved me and brought me thus far.

Like the turning carousel, I made it around and stood again in the same place, I very much changed.

And now I have a renewed heart and new adventures to explore and draw and share…

moving forward with much warmth and these memories in my pocket.

: River Seine

: Mont Martre

: Mont Martre

: Mont Martre

: Carousel

In Wide World Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, career, carousel, doodle, drawing, France, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, Mont Martre, Paris, pastel, pastels, Sennelier, sketch, soft pastel, story, thoughts, umbrella

Wide World: Belle Paris

Mary Liz Ingram — July 19, 2014 — Leave a comment

Traveling from St. Pancras Station, London: marker, colored pencil & ink doodle

A dark, early morning cab ride to St. Pancras. Heavy bags, heavy eyelids, heavy steps. Slumping into our seats, we barrel under the English Channel towards France. Riding backwards, the zooming landscape alternates with dark tunnels, only my reflection for a view. Our friends have scattered to more destinations, or have arrived safely back home. Now I, with my husband and his aunt and uncle, journey on.

Farewell London, Bonjour Paris.

June 27, 2014

“France began with a little chaos. We popped out of the metro by the Arc de Triomphe, with its constant swirl of speeding, honking cars, surprisingly without a clue how to find our hotel. When in doubt and lost, hail a cab. So we did.”

We unloaded our baggage burdens at last and made our way into the city, aiming at a “do-over” of the Arc de Triomphe. A lunch of croque madames at an outdoor cafe (where, it must be noted, a bird pooped on my head…what a nice welcome), we strolled down the Champs Elysees to the Tuileries Garden.

Notre Dame, colored pencil & ink doodle

The gardens were full of color, children with ice cream, people in green metal chairs around the circular ponds, pigeons pecking for crumbs. The sun was warm and smiles bright. We headed to the Louvre and split up to see the city.

Returning from the Musee de Orsay to our rendezvous by the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, a wind whipped up and enveloped everyone in huge, swirling dust clouds. With my scarf on my face, we laughed in surprise until the dust returned to the ground. We watched the men selling cheap souvenirs, the pigeons trying to impress their mates, the people enjoying a Paris summer, until it came time for dinner.

The next morning, rain fell lightly on Paris, adding umbrellas to the beauty of the romantic streets. With a croissant and cafe creme at a cafe near majestic Notre Dame, life felt still. The close sounds of french conversation, busy pigeons and clinking mugs on plates was interrupted by the pealing of bells. People and umbrellas moved quickly towards the cathedral, where an unknown church service spilled far into the courtyard in front, projected with speakers and screens.

Tuileries Garden, ink & marker doodles

La Tour Eiffel

From Notre Dame, we moved on towards the gorgeous Saint Chapelle, then finally “La Tour Eiffel”…the inspiring Eiffel Tower. For our 12th wedding anniversary, Stephen long ago made reservations for us to eat lunch high on the Eiffel Tower. Nervous and excited, we were taken up in a small elevator to the second platform and to our window seat, a view towards the Arc de Triomphe.

June 28, 2014

“So began our 5 course meal that took 3 hours. 3 hours in the clouds above Paris. The food was incredible, the view breathtaking, the company the best. We watched the rain over Paris, people under shiny umbrellas reflecting off the wet pavement below. No rush, no hurry, no stress.

When we came down from the clouds and walked out from under the tower, we wound our way down a path by a pond full of ducks. We came upon a rainy street lined with pointed white tents selling piles of food, bowls of candy, clothes, scarves, hats, bags and the coveted umbrella.”

Eiffel Tower, ink doodle

In Uncategorized, Wide World Alabama, Arc de Triomphe, Art, artist, Birmingham, chunnel, doodle, drawing, Eiffel Tower, France, Ingram, Liz, Mary, Notre Dame, Paris, sketch, St. Pancras, story, thoughts, Tuileries

Wide World: Canterbury Tales

Mary Liz Ingram — July 18, 2014 — Leave a comment

Winding our way through the streets, lined with crookedly stacked white buildings crossed with dark beams, with signs and flowers hanging off the fronts, swaying in the wind…people looking out their doors, or crossing the well-worn cobblestone roads, we hurried towards our destination, trying to keep up.

It was our last day together as a group and we left the bustling city of London, plunging into the medieval city of Canterbury. Still wrapped in Norman walls, Canterbury sucked us back in time, whispering its tales as we walked. After a big plate of fish and chips with plenty of vinegar, we made our way through the maze of streets to the soaring Canterbury Cathedral.

Hard to take in or fit in a photo, this huge, reaching, ornate structure holds too many stories to explore in an afternoon.

We entered the mother church of the Anglican Communion and met our guide, a sweet lady in a cardigan and pearls who looks like she’d be best friends with Julia Child. She took us to the site of the 1170 murder of Thomas Becket by King Henry II’s knights, explained the incredible story-telling stained glass, and led us up the pilgrim’s staircase, worn smooth with the steady, ancient traffic of respect.

We spent some quiet moments wandering the awe-inducing silent crypt beneath the cathedral, with medieval graffiti etched into the stone by watchful, waiting monks. There was an old man with a headlamp standing in the dim light, sketching where photographs are forbidden. I wish I’d had time to join him.

We participated in Evensong, sitting upright in the choir stalls beneath the vaulted ceiling containing so much history, the witness of so much life and struggle and hope.

Later in my journal, I reflected upon the parades of people who had passed in and out of those walls:

June 25, 2014

“So many years of devotion, worship, effort towards faith. The long struggle towards understanding God and following Christ is real and riddled with mistakes, but filled with honest effort, dedication and passion.”

We enjoyed a closing meal in an upstairs room where the wine and conversation flowed, celebrating our new friendships and shared experiences.

A late night, we returned to London, very grateful.

Canterbury Cathedral, ink doodle

In Uncategorized, Wide World Alabama, Art, artist, Becket, Birmingham, Canterbury, cathedral, crypt, doodle, drawing, England, Ingram, Liz, Mary, pilgrim, sketch, steps, story, tales, Thomas, thoughts

Wide World: London

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

Big Ben at night: marker, colored pencil & ink doodle

I adore London, especially at night.

We toured London by day, and a group of us went out at night:

June 25, 2014

“We took the tube to Westminster, saw Big Ben lit up at night, crossed the bridge to the London Eye in the cool night air. We walked down the Thames with lots of others, sharing our high of experiencing such a beautiful, rich city – a truly global city. We crossed the bridge and headed to Trafalgar Square, where we climbed the lions and laughed at the blue cockerel. We walked through Piccadilly Circus, then through Green Park, laughing and talking in the misty night. We saw Buckingham Palace, unlit at 10:30, and pulled our weary feet towards Victoria Station to the underground and back to bed.”

British Museum, ink doodles

The next day we moved through history at the British Museum, beginning with ancient Assyrian statues, Egyptian faces, mummies and scarabs, and the Rosetta Stone.We moved through the Greeks and Romans to the Celts, to the Medieval church, pieces from ancient ships and the oldest surviving statue of a human figure – dating around 7200 bc! It looked like modern art… amazing.

Skipping over a day, to which I will return tomorrow, we spent another day in London as most of the group returned home. Westminster Abbey, the treasures at the British Library, the Tower of London, St. James Park, and losing our way somewhere in Brompton or Kensington, rounded out London with mist and flowers. So much iconic beauty. London is a fantastic city.