Archives For Southern

Time Goes By

Mary Liz Ingram —  May 10, 2013 — 2 Comments

We arrive in our Mazda 5, which we affectionately call the “mini mini space van.” I’m dressed in my skinny jeans, a loose silky top, my iPhone in my pocket ready to snap some pictures. We walk hand in hand, the kids, my mom, and I, down the street in downtown Birmingham towards the flickering sign of our destination. We wait outside the stage entrance with other families, shivering and huddled against the unexpected cold Sunday air. Most parents are holding phones…sending texts, posting Facebook photos of shivering ballerinas, tweeting a comment here and there about waiting. Finally the doors open and we usher our tiny dancers inside.

Walking around the corner, we follow the flood of locals into a glass foyer, moving slowly in the crush. The area opens to an atrium, and time seems to shift.

The crowd seems to change in my minds eye. The jeans, phones and sandals give way to an elegance from an era past, one of red lipstick and gloves.

Alabama Theater, original photography

Alabama Theater, original photography

The ornate ceiling is bathed in a golden light; rich, red velvet drapes archways and staircases. Moravian stars light up the mirrored accents; “As Time Goes By” drifts into my senses, played softly in the background. I was enveloped in a glowing, decadent atmosphere that transported me to the Alabama Theater’s heyday of the 1920s and 30s.

We make our way to our seats, and I take a moment to entertain the baby by, once again, exploring this beautiful space. We’ve been there several times before; in the Summer, the Alabama Theater plays movies like The Wizard of Oz, Gone With the Wind, Indiana Jones, and Cinderella, and they hold concerts and performances periodically. The impact of the place never gets old, never fades.

I took some photos of our visit, using a lens/film combination that brought out the richness of the place. I hope you enjoy:

For more info on the Alabama Theater, including its restoration, visit http://alabamatheatre.com/about-the-alabama/history/

You must remember this 
A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. 
The fundamental things apply 
As time goes by.

You can learn a lot of things from the flowers, for especially in the month of June. There’s a wealth of happiness and romance, all in the golden afternoon. … 

-Alice in Wonderland

Honeysuckle Vine, Ink and Pastel Pencil sketch on paper

Honeysuckle Vine, Ink and Pastel Pencil sketch on paper

A quiet Saturday in May, we decided to take a stroll through the neighborhood. Our boy on his bike, Spiderman helmet secured; our eldest first trying out her roller skates, then after squeals and crashes, switching to her bike, sans training wheels; the baby in her stroller until Mommy’s hip sounded like such a better place to ride; Daddy helping the cyclists-in-training.

Golden Afternoon, original photography

The sun shining golden through the shade trees, heavily laden with rich green leaves, adds warmth to the unusually cool Spring day in Alabama. We wind our way in an unplanned pattern through the web of streets and sidewalks. As we’re admiring the fresh cut grass of a friend’s home, half-jealous as ours is still in need of a trim, a sweet scent teases our senses. Briefly caught on the soft breeze, the smell conjures immediate memories of childhood. For a moment, we are all enveloped in a completely carefree moment, gathering around the happily discovered honeysuckle vine, relishing the tiny drops of nectar that hide inside each flower.

A song floated into my mind on the tails of the honeysuckle vine, and I slowly spun and danced down the street singing it to my giggling dimpled baby girl, as the big kids successfully pedaled home. I noticed a neighbor on a porch mid-(not-so-graceful)- spin and, I’m sure, badly sung version of the Alice in Wonderland tune, but I shrugged off any embarrassment and continued our freely twirling walk home, experiencing for a moment that pure, open and innocent enjoyment of all the good things in life.

 

Hee Haw

Mary Liz Ingram —  April 25, 2013 — Leave a comment

So I drew a donkey. He is up close and personal. He is stately and thoughtful. He is probably stubborn and temperamental. And he really needed a name. 

"Donkey Hotey," 11x14 soft pastel on card

For this important task, I turned to my friends on Twitter and Facebook. I got tons of great feedback from peeps all around the world:

Blue, Don Burro the 3rd, Ned, Sir Yeknod, Trevor, Hector, BrayPitt, Platero, Daniel, Donk, Charles, Rabbit, Darcy, Murray, Homer, and I have to admit my favorite:

@sbarrphoto: “Hotey, that way he is Donkey Hotey, to dream the impossible dream.”

You dream that impossible dream, Hotey. Dream big.

 

 

This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef, and this little piggy had none. and this little piggy…went “wee, wee, wee!” all the way home…

Well, this little piggy was meant for market, and this little piggy found a new home. My fastest sale ever thanks to a lovely lady from the Birmingham area, he made a quick debut on Facebook and used his charm to find his own place in the world. He is a happy little fellow!

"Oink," 8x10 soft pastel on card, sold

“Pig #3,” 8×10 soft pastel on card, sold

While I was drawing this pig, I remembered a scene from my childhood…one of triumph and pride that I carried with me for quite some time. I confess, it’s been awhile since I thought of it. But how could I forget?!

It was the Alabama State Fair, circa 1985. I was there with my family, perched on my mom’s hip. I can still picture the scene, in that long-ago, fuzzy kid-vision we have of moments that make a great impression…the colors, the noise, the smell of hay. Continue Reading…

Alabama Goods

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

After sitting on my work for quite some time (having an infant makes it difficult to keep up!), I am happy to announce that my pastel “Pieces of the South” are now available at Alabama Goods in downtown Homewood, Alabama.

The specialty store will carry my large and small pastels of cows, pigs, cotton…all things Southern!

Here are a few of my new pieces that have made their way to the shop…

"Moo," 8x8 pastel on card

“Moo,” 8×8 pastel on card

all framed up

all framed up

"This Little Piggy," 8x8 soft pastel

“This Little Piggy,” 8×8 soft pastel

 

The Yellow Haze

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

My car covered in pollenSpring has sprung in Alabama, and with its advent comes the yellow haze. The dreaded pollen influx has enveloped our neighborhoods, coated our cars, and invaded our lungs. Yellow clouds are stirred by the wind like sand storms. We’re all on Zyrtec in order to survive.

But with all this yellow dust, comes the most beautiful array of Spring flowers. Now, if anyone cares to notice, I don’t often draw flowers. I think flowers are fabulous (hint, hint to my husband); but I’m just not a huge fan of choosing them as my subject. I’ve drawn them occasionally: daffodils, camellias, magnolias…

Do thistles count? Continue Reading…

Vacations…

Mary Liz Ingram —  March 23, 2013 — Leave a comment

Well, I’m back.

I had a brief blogging hiatus due to several types of “vacations”…

The first type of vacation was not so much fun: it was a work-caused vacation from my sweet husband, who was whisked away on the wings of a metal bird to places of consultation. Packed neatly in his carry on bag was the computer. Alas, no blogging to be done! And my whirlwind of a schedule with 3 kids and work did not, this time, allow me to schedule any prewritten posts. As we jokingly and lovingly say to my hubby, “Go make the money, Daddy!”

The next vacation was the absence of the computer, which was sadly left behind in a Nashville hotel room. Several days later, it returned home after days of treacherous travel in a cardboard box. Blogging delayed.

The last vacation was a splendid one…Spring break trip to visit my fabulous sister and her family in the old Southern city of Savannah, Georgia. She lives around the corner from, I have to say, one of the most beautiful streets in the world: a quiet walk along the Bluff, with the peaceful marsh on one side, and gorgeous old homes on the other, pillared and canopied in huge, ancient oak trees draped in Spanish moss. A-mazing. The fuchsia azaleas were in full bloom, and keeping my handy iPhone in my back pocket, I snapped photos wherever we went. I was, as always, overwhelmed with the beauty, the uniqueness of that place. Being with family always makes me feel nostalgic, so I took lots of photos of the growing brood as well.

Here are a few of my favorite photos from the trip:

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…

When Cotton Whispers

Mary Liz Ingram —  February 18, 2013 — 2 Comments

“Art creates a kind of commentary” -Barbara Kruger

I live in the South. Sweet Home Alabama. The southern states of the US are full of a complex history, and for me, it is always strongly felt when I have the rare opportunity to gaze in stillness over a vast field of snow-white cotton.

Cotton Whispers, 24x36" soft pastel on board

Cotton Whispers, 24×36″ soft pastel on board

Stand with me a moment:

It’s a gleaming fall day in Alabama. The sky is brilliantly soft blue as the sun shines intensely at midday, lighting up the tufts of white cotton to full brightness. The grass is becoming dry, multicolored with the changing of season.

Behind me is your average gas station. We’ve stopped to fill up on our way home. You see, I’m a city girl, raised from age two in Birmingham, “the steel city,” the largest city in Alabama. We don’t have cotton fields nearby, and I have grown up in an age in which people don’t pick cotton by hand anymore. I’ve never seen people working fields with anything other than large farming machines.  Continue Reading…

If you’re a Southerner, chances are you’ve spent a long time sitting on a porch listening to stories from your grandparent or great aunt. Most likely, the respected senior was rhythmically swaying on a porch swing or a creaky rocking chair. Mosquitos were probably treating you like a buffet, and the humidity making you feel sticky.  While listening, you may have been picking at the old paint on the porch step. If you’ve been on such a porch on such a day, you’d probably already heard the story several times before, but listened patiently as it was retold yet again.

In our social-media infused, google-run, multi-tasking reality, lazy porch-sitting days require a mental switch and a physical sigh to make the transition. Continue Reading…