Archives For soft pastel

My Yellow Truck

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 7, 2014 — 1 Comment

So there’s this yellow truck…

I. Love. It.

I don’t know why…It’s just an old yellow truck that lives at the tire store across the street from my neighborhood. The tire people put it inside at night, and park it out front every morning. It’s big, it’s shiny, it’s very yellow. And I love it.

I try to take pictures of it every time I’m close enough, but could never get the whole thing. Finally, thanks to the patience of my daughter, and me looping around a few times in our car, I got the money shot. Well, sort of. There are always bushes blocking the front.

But I rigged it up with a few successful photos and variety of angles, and finally…FINALLY…I present to you my much-awaited “Yellow Truck,” 15×15″ pastel.

Yellow Truck, 15x15 pastel

Yellow Truck, 15×15 pastel

Beulah

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 6, 2014 — Leave a comment

Here’s a much bigger MOO right at you!

Meet Beulah, a big, comfy cow resting in a sunny patch on a green Southern hill… 18×24′ Pastel on Pastelbord

Beulah, 18x24 pastel

Beulah, 18×24 pastel

Retro South

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 4, 2014 — 2 Comments

Over years of creating art, I have noticed cycles of creativity. Every winter, I get a touch of those dreaded “winter blues.” Art to the rescue! Tired of the same old, same old, I try something new. This year, I’ve been very much inspired by the 1940s and 50s, draw to images from that era.

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you’ve seen most of this new art. But it’s past time for the website debut!

Let me introduce to you my new series, “Retro South”:

Airstream sketch

Airstream sketch

Airstream

While my husband drives, I take pictures of the sky, the fields, the cities, old buses…whatever strikes my fancy. My phone is always clogged with potential art subjects. My art journey into the “Retro South” started with a quick snap of my phone camera on a trip through Alabama, when I captured a shiny RV and bright blue skies. I loved the angle, the iconic Southern image it presented.

I turned it into an Airstream, and voila! It was the first in a new journey of Southern art.

Airstream, 12x15 pastel

Airstream, 12×15 pastel

 

Sloss Furnace Sketch

Sloss Furnace Sketch

Sloss Furnace

Next, I moved on to another picture I took from the car window, as we drove through downtown Birmingham. Sloss Furnace is a huge and historic part of my city’s skyline and heritage, and I love it’s rust and age. The significance of Sloss Furnaces is stated best on it’s website:

Sloss Furnaces produced iron for nearly 90 years, which gave rise to the city of Birmingham, AL. Now recognized as a National Historic Landmark, Sloss Furnaces with its web of pipes and tall smokestacks offers us a glimpse into the great industrial past of the South and our nation.

Sloss Furnace, 12x14 pastel

Sloss Furnace, 12×14 pastel

 

The Alabama Theatre

Continuing to tell the story of my place, I painted another historic Birmingham, Alabama landmark: The Alabama Theatre. This beautiful building opened in 1927, and I love to go watch old movies there with popcorn and cherry coke. Check out my earlier post about the Alabama Theatre to see some photos of the gorgeous interior.

Alabama Theatre, 7x12 pastel

Alabama Theatre, 7×12 pastel

Other pictures are coming, and some have already been shown, such as my new “Old Rusty Train.” I have lots of plans for more art, so stay tuned!

Old Rusty Train

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 26, 2014 — Leave a comment
Speeding along, with rhythmic persistence, miles covered by churning wheels.
Barreling forward to each destination, no unplanned stops or slowing on the horizon.
Without forethought, the emergency brake is pulled, a screeching, steaming, crashing halt.
With a wheezing sigh, the train lies still.

Always moving, never resting, the time had come to stop. No phone, no work, no have-tos. I pulled the emergency brake on my full, ever-pursuing busy life.

As I approached my front door and weekend respite, I felt the embrace of a self-chosen hibernation. Once the door closed behind me, nothing or anything lay ahead. Quiet, rest, refueling was expected.

But that’s not how a train stops without warning.

More like a shaking, grinding, shuddering, momentum-stopping standstill.

Welcome to my Saturday morning: the aftermath of a much-needed break from everything.

I slept…I puttered…I slept…I puttered…I ate at my parents, then returned to climb in bed at 7:30pm. My head hurt all day, like being purged from the addiction of busyness.

Come Sunday, I felt clear. I felt calm, rested, connected in a real ways. Detoxified of stress, anxiety, pressure, burdens, I began to recover and reemerge with a more restful, more mindful perspective. A greater goodness crept into my tired should. My thoughts settled on family; I said “yes” more to my children. Half-formed thoughts stirred and stirred.

I followed the free string of my thoughts, now cleansed of distractions, and found myself thinking of our stories. My heritage, how I came to be here through my family. We seem to listen so late, wait so long before grasping the value in the stories of family. I decided it is time to listen more intently, to learn the stories in the lives of others. To understand the paths of my family that kept converging until mine began 32 years ago.

Like a magpie, I’ve collected treasures: symbols of the past, bits of history, connections to another time and place. I looked at a few of my favorite things and ended my weekend journey with a crock pot of taco soup and a dinner visit to my grandparents, where my children played dominoes with my Paw Paw and my baby sang “Wheels on the Bus” with my grandmother. It was  a night that unexpectedly glowed. A moment that would not exist if I hadn’t stopped and listened.

I found a different peacefulness from pulling the brake. It equipped me with a new grounding that helped me survive the tangled week to come…

At night, especially on these clear, cold January twilights, I hear a distant train whistle blow. Signaling approach, calling goodbyes, reminding us to pay attention. The train pushes on, going places in the darkness with light bright and pace steady, knowing when to stop, when to refuel and when to commence another journey.

Old Rusty Train, 8x10 pastel

Old Rusty Train, 8×10 pastel

 

Holiday Show Recap

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 16, 2014 — Leave a comment

While busy with commissions before Christmas, I have also been busy with art shows. Here’s a quick recap of the Mountain Brook Art Association Holiday Show.

Furry Friends

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

While I’m parading pet portraits, here’s one more I did as a Christmas commission. In this pastel, I put two friends together from separate photos, two beloved pets who passed away recently. I was touched to hear on Christmas day that the gift was treasured, thoughtfully given and happily received!

Bear

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 5, 2014 — 2 Comments

You look out into the night. You see two shining eyes and a big tongue. It’s Bear. Not A bear, but Bear, my grandfather’s very large, very sweet, very black, very loved Belgian Sheepdog.

I had the privilege to draw this pampered dog for my Paw Paw’s Christmas present, given by his family. Here’s how it turned out:

Belgian Sheepdog, 9x15 pastel commission

Belgian Sheepdog, 9×15 pastel commission

Shhhhh…

Mary Liz Ingram —  January 3, 2014 — 2 Comments

Twas the weeks before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse…

My blog site was quiet over Christmas. But this was only a trick. A facade, if you will.

I was quite the busy bee, but all my art had to stay hushed so as not to ruin Christmas surprises. I had lots of commissions, lots of gifts to create. Over the next few days I’ll catch you up on a few of the pieces that found new homes for Christmas!

Below is one of the first pieces this “commission season”…a very large, majestic white lab. Can I even tell you how much I enjoyed this piece? 

 

Holy Cow!

Mary Liz Ingram —  December 30, 2013 — 2 Comments

A cold, gray morning just two days after Christmas finds me groggily puttering around the house in my pjs, heading for coffee and breakfast. Still recovering from Christmas festivities, stepping over toys and readjusting to life without Christmas music, I browse my phone to see what’s going on in the world. There’s a confusing text from one of my friends that looks like this:

from www.al.com Birmingham's Best 2013

from www.al.com Birmingham’s Best 2013

I ask what it is, where it’s from, and expected questions when you are nervously beginning to be excited, but waiting to find out it’s a scammy joke. But apparently this time it’s for real. Some of my family members found the same surprising announcement in the newspaper that morning.

Some how, some way, all my little cows, pigs, portraits and cotton bolls helped me get voted by at least enough Birmingham residents to make it on the list as a runner up for best local artist in Birmingham for 2013.

I have one emphatically hyphenated word for this news: Ca-razy.

And even in the Birmingham News! Hurrah!

And even in the Birmingham News! Hurrah!

So let the confetti rain down for just a second, for this lovely year-end surprise… Happy New Year!

Gift Giving #3

Mary Liz Ingram —  December 2, 2013 — Leave a comment

Looking for a unique gift that just seems to speak to you? These quirky, textured pastel farm animals are just the thing…a gift that will last and bring fun to any room! Check out some of my newest pieces that will be available for sale at my upcoming art shows. Contact Mary Liz if you’re interested in a special piece, or one of the farmyard friends below: marylizingramart@gmail.com