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Absorbing the minutes

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 7, 2013 — 2 Comments

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

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Mirror, mirror, on the wall…

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 7, 2013 — 2 Comments

“Let us go on talking about ourselves and our own particular little niche in life. The world is too vast a place.” –The Colossus of Arcadia E. Phillips Oppenheim

Today I read a blog post by one of my fellow artists that encouraged the art of self portraiture. Hmm. Not something I do very often – ahem – I mean ever. I’m not a big fan of photos of myself, much less drawing my face.

But there is something fascinating about an artist’s self portrait. It is a window into their life, their thoughts, their persona reflected in their own creation. I browsed the web for self portraits and came across a Russian artist from the early 1900s with whom I was unacquainted.

Zinaida Serebriakova self portrait

Zinaida Serebriakova self portrait

One of the first Russian women to gain real fame in the art world, Zinaida Serebriakova painted images of her surroundings and the people in her country.  She valued life and beauty, worked in oils, charcoal and pastels. She was a wife, mother, daughter and experienced her share of tragedy during the revolution in 1917.  She began her successful art career as a young woman, and painted many beautiful self portraits that stand out to me because of her charm, her smile, her friendly, welcoming expression. The props and surroundings she chose give you a glimpse into her life: paints and brushes, her children, her dressing table with jewelry, perfumes and combs. I was fascinated by her. While most self portraits portray serious expressions, without hint of smiles, Serebriakova’s portraits intrigue me with her pleasant, almost mischievous grin.

I began thinking on my own self portrait. What would I include? What expression would I depict?

We all seek to be known. Continue Reading…

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Memories Hiding in Biscuits

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 24, 2013 — Leave a comment
My grandparent's WWII Salt & Pepper Shakers

My grandparent’s WWII Salt & Pepper Shakers, original photograph

I was standing in the kitchen eating a good, homemade southern biscuit with a nice pat of butter in its middle, when my senses whisked me back to another house, another tasty biscuit, another just-melting-but-still-cold piece of butter.

My grandparent’s house, Birmingham, Alabama circa 1991: In front of me, at chest height while sitting, is my Granny’s oval dining room table, shiny with wood polish. Around the table, on rounded and puffed, aqua-upholstered, carved wooden chairs from an era past, sits my family – my Granny with her curly gray hair, my Grandaddy topped in a gloriously soft white tuft, my mom and dad, and my little sister with her freckles.

Eating my biscuit in my own kitchen today, I remembered how things were to be done at that family dinner table. In this formal Southern dining room with it’s sheer lace curtains, the African violets bloom in the window, and Granny’s pastel portraits of my four great grandparents hang in gilded frames upon a wall-papered backdrop. In this room, your mint iced teas must sit on the silver coasters, and the tiny salt and pepper shakers – brought home from France in WWII – are set within reach. The fresh biscuits are always served in the ventilated and covered red warming dish. Continue Reading…

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Piece by Piece

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

Sometimes creating art can be a lot like completing a puzzle. I have the pieces, and it’s a matter of putting them all together.

Join me for a quick step-by-step journey, as I put the pieces together to form my latest pastel, “Cotton Whispers”:

The first piece to the puzzle begins in my mind: an inspiration; an experience; a mist of a final product. The next piece comes with my references: photographs taken on a family vacation, cotton bolls saved here and there.

Beginning the sketch

Beginning the sketch

The next step is the charcoal sketch: Continue Reading…

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The Birds

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 12, 2013 — 2 Comments
Busy Birds, 7X12 soft pastel on card

Busy Birds, 7X12 soft pastel on card

I step outside into the fresh morning air;

a swirl of eager chatter encircles me.

I lift my eyes to the busy scene:

birds playing a game of musical chairs

amongst the bare branches of the tall trees.

All weight is lifted into the cool gray sky,

agendas fade and I pause upon the stair.

I breathe in life.

I feel a small and glorious part

of the nature of things.

neighborhood chatter

neighborhood chatter

 

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1,000 Words

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

Sometimes a moment grabs you.

Your life is carrying on, business as usual. Then you look up, and, pow! An image, a person, a sound, a smell…it just gets you. It steals your attention away from the course of everyday life, and gives you pause. It’s a moment when your senses are flooded by emotion…nostalgia, gratefulness, love, perhaps sadness or pain.

I am working to soak in these unexpected treasures as they come. When I see my boy lining up snowballs, for instance, or I find him reading far after bedtime in his fort, I am thankful for the moment’s fullness; I snap a picture, and I create a piece of art to convey that moment that took hold of my heart.

It’s raining and thundering on this February Sunday. In my art room, I was irritably trying to muster the focus I needed to finish a planned pastel of a cotton field. My daughter quietly slipped into the room, and perched on a tall, yellow metal chair behind me. I turned to look at her, and saw her slowly smoothing a long silk scarf on her head as she watched the rain out of the window, dressed in a puffy pink tutu with her little feet propped up on the bottom rail.

She was beautiful. I soaked it in.

Rainy Day, pastel sketch on paper

Rainy Day, pastel sketch on paper

“A picture’s worth a thousand words”

 

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The Case for Pastels

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 6, 2013 — 3 Comments

Ahem, ahem…let me clear my throat before I begin on this apparently sensitive subject.

I myself have been known to get quite feisty over the matter, cheeks flushing and all. I have most recently been in a bit of an irritable mood over the query, and I just can’t shake it. So, it must be addressed. Allow me to present the case:

“Order in the court! Will the defendant please rise. Pastel picture, you are now on trial. Please answer the following question:

Are you a painting, or a drawing?” Continue Reading…

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The Stickier Side of Pastels

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 4, 2013 — Leave a comment

I’d like to introduce you to a member of the family. This unique relative likes to think outside the box, does not like to be constrained, and has an oily quality.

Meet soft pastel’s cousin, the oil pastel.

regular sized oil pastels

regular sized oil pastels

Now, let me tell you how I met the oil pastel, well, good oil pastels. We can all remember those crayon-like oil pastels from school art class; how their waxy marks just make a smeary mess. Who knew there was something better out there!? It’s like the difference between blackboard chalk and good soft pastels: like a whole different art medium. But I digress… Continue Reading…

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Such is Life, Act Three

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 28, 2013 — 1 Comment

The lights dimmed and the curtain raised, the stage once again reveals the now-familiar, bustling family of five.

In the driveway of their small suburban home, the father is buckling the well-padded baby into her snug carseat, making skilled attempts to wiggle her arms through the straps, as she works hard to get them out. The mother pulls at jackets and lifts under arms, ushering the bundled older children into the back of car with their loads of explorer-worthy trappings. Finally, children strapped in place, the parents take their seats and the family van pulls onto the road.

It’s a vacation day: pancakes have been eaten, lazy sipping of coffee has ensued, relaxation has crept into this usually-busy group. It’s a crisp, sunny day and the normally scheduled, organized family feels the need for a bit of spontaneity.

Time for a family hike. Continue Reading…

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Baby Toes

My Firstborn

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 26, 2013 — Leave a comment

Beginnings…there’s something about them that you just can’t forget.

I remember down to every detail, the moments when I first met each of my children. I remember the first time I met the man who has been my husband for almost 11 years.

And I remember when I drew my first pastel. It was seven years ago, and began as a doodle, just to entertain on a dull afternoon. I sketched out a picture of my first baby in black. Then I absent-mindedly added a bit of color here and there.

Congratulations all around! My firstborn pastel entered the world.

Snack Time, 8x10 pastel on newsprint

Snack Time, 8×10 pastel on newsprint

From there, I dabbled here and there and stumbled my way to my own set of pastel techniques.

If you’d like to meet my first “full color” pastel, as you might say, visit my previous post Memories.

 

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