Mary Liz Ingram Art | Tag Archive

Trail of Stones

Mary Liz Ingram — August 18, 2013 — 2 Comments

There are days marked in our lives with white stones. We can never forget them. Recollections, a very easy effort of memory, seem to bring back even in some measure the very thrill, the same pulsations and emotions, as were kindled into life by certain never-to-be-forgotten happenings. Time cannot weaken them. Whilst we have life the memory of them is eternal. And there are other days against the memory of which we have dropped a black stone. We shrink from anything which may recall them. No sacrifice would seem too great if only we could set the seal of oblivion upon those few hated hours. We school ourselves to close our eyes, and turn our heads away from anything which might in any manner recall them to us.

–The Yellow House, E. Phillips Oppenheim

I close my eyes, and see my life in footsteps, walking down the path of my days as Hansel and Gretel, leaving a trail of carefully laid stones behind. Here I drop a small white stone, there a few more, here a black stone, another white; some large, some small, images of events through which I’ve walked in the moments that lie before today.

I sit listening to the story of an acquaintance. I do not know the stories of this life, but I see a glimpse that reminds me that stories lie tucked away in the speaker’s heart. I remember we all have a story, littered with joys and pain.

I read chapters from an old book, as I lay safely nestled in my bed. I am reminded that our journey is unpredictable and bound towards a mixture of triumph and tragedy.

While the black stones are unmistakable, they are but moments in our long life. The white stones outnumber and shine like goodness. No matter what stones lay on your path of life, life is long and deep and full of redemption.

My children grow and flourish, my family is held in love. My baby walks and dances to Elmo. My daughter grows too big for me to carry and prepares for school. My son spins on his head and enters Kindergarten. My husband publishes his books and holds me tight. My friends are close and full of laughter. My life is so good and so full, built of a journey taken step by fumbling step.

The ghosts that we knew made us all black and all blue, But we’ll live a long life. And the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view, And we’ll live a long life. -“Ghosts That We Knew”, Mumford & Sons

Trail of Stones, pastel on card

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, black, drawing, family, Ingram, journey, life, Liz, Mary, Mumford & Sons, Oppenheim, painting, pastel, pastels, Sennelier, sketch, soft pastel, stones, story, thoughts, white

Capacitors, Handy Manny & Me

Mary Liz Ingram — July 11, 2013 — 1 Comment

I see Rosie the Riveter and Handy Manny in my mind. I hear the theme song from Rocky in the background of my thoughts… we got this.

I am a champion.

I dash back and forth a few times, 5 in 1 screwdriver in hand, and head down the front stairs. My older children watch me in confusion, eating their messy ice cream bars that I absentmindedly allowed in the flurry of sweaty chaos.

My AC is broken. My handyman Dad is out of town. My husband is at a funeral. It is h.o.t.

I’ve seen it done. I can do it. I am woman. Hear me roar.

Maybe that’s taking it too far…but still. I fixed my AC.

In my work dress and chignon, I took off the side panel of the unit, exposing the blower motor, capacitor and wires. I see that the capacitor has burned up (and YES! I even know what a capacitor DOES! Go team me!).

With my dad on the phone, we confirm the need to get a new capacitor. With the help of neighbors watching my kids, I’m able to pop off to the edges of downtown Birmingham, take my little self into the Washer & Refrigeration Supply Co., ask for and purchase a 5 microfarad capacitor for $10. Oh yeah.

: panel removed

: bad capacitor

: shiny new capacitor

I zip home in a jiffy and plug that sucker in. Voila! We have air flow.

I floated along in an internal cloud of success for quite a few hours that afternoon. I, Mary Liz Ingram, repaired my AC.

Washer & Refrigeration, 7x7 ink, colored pencil & pastel pencil on card

Washer & Refrigeration, 7×7 ink, colored pencil & pastel pencil on card

In Art, story AC, Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, capacitor, colored, doodle, drawing, humor, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, pastel, pencil, sketch, story

Thrift Shopping

Mary Liz Ingram — July 9, 2013 — 2 Comments

Me: “We’re going to a thrift shop.”
My 5-year-old son, very serious as he rubs his nose: “Where it’s $50 for a t-shirt?”

So… while he can quote it, my tiny boy seems to have missed the message in Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop.” We were about to change that.

The one rule for our outing: You must find something awesome.

Let the adventure begin.

First stop: Goodwill

First treasure goes to mom: awesome yellow sunglasses. 39 cents.

Yellow Sunglasses, Ink & Colored Pencil Doodle

We tour the facility, finding golf clubs, E.T., piles upon piles of unwanted, outdated, almost unusable items such as cassette tapes, VHS tapes, gigantic TVs, broken vacuums, horrible coffee cups. Our tiniest thrift shopper was ecstatic over the baby toys which littered the warehouse. It was a junk wonderland ready for our perusal…perfect for a rainy day.

: Goodwill

: Treasure Hunting

: Baby thrift shopper

: E.T. phone home

: Mountains of tapes

: Vacuum Row

: VCRs

: Piles of TVs

: Curiosity

: Office Relics

: Thrift Shop #3

: Nose Mug

Bright plastic shades, blue hats, orange carts…pops of color found amongst the faded, cracking grays and browns of dust-covered discards.

: The Shades, Ink & Colored Pencil Doodle

: Blue Hat Ink & Colored Pencil Doodle

: The Buggy, Ink & Colored Pencil Doodle

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, doodle, drawing, family, Goodwill, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Macklemore, Mary, shop, sketch, store, story, thoughts, thrift, watercolor

Trip Journal

Mary Liz Ingram — July 7, 2013 — Leave a comment

We recently returned from a wonderful vacation to Savannah, Georgia. We stayed with my sweet sister, brother-in-law and my tiny niece and nephew. Here are some quick thoughts, paintings and photographs from a beautiful trip:

The Marsh, 4×4 watercolor pencil

Thursday afternoon, June 27
Off on our trip, driving down I-20 packed in the jeep. Kids in a tight row behind me. Ready to throw off worries, enjoy life together, feel the free air of the coast. Listening to Cake and smiling at my husband. Enjoying the forward motion of escape.

Friday, June 28
Slow morning with kids and coffee, then off to the beach. An hour of sand pelting, hair flying, blowing wind & waves; guarding baby with a skim board, found relief in a tidal pool. Ended day around the table, warm meal with family & laughs.

Continue Reading…

In Art, photography, story Alabama, Art, artist, beach, Birmingham, drawing, family, Georgia, Ingram, journal, life, lighthouse, Liz, marsh, Mary, painting, photography, Savannah, story, thoughts, trip, watercolor

The Mirror

Mary Liz Ingram — June 19, 2013 — 1 Comment

It hangs above an old dresser, painted white and made like new.

A backdrop of light lilac, softens and surrounds its frame.

The mirror has seen life come, on the wall when life was new:

A third-time mother waited, and filled the dresser drawers,

day-dreaming in the mirror, wistful eyes on her stomach.

A new infant lay below, tucked into tiny diapers,

little hands by the mirror, ready to grow and become.

A baby sat up laughing, and kissing her reflection,

while the mother took photos, of the mirror full of smiles.

Now the baby toddles in, holding onto mother’s hand,

bedtime on another night, the mirror bathed in evening.

Time goes by in the mirror, and the mother soaks it in.

The Mirror, pastel sketch on card

In Art, poetry Alabama, Art, artist, baby, Birmingham, drawing, family, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, mirror, pastel, pastels, poem, poetry, sketch, soft pastel, story, thoughts

Summer Blooms

Mary Liz Ingram — June 17, 2013 — Leave a comment

Down my sidewalk, between the rows of tall Monkey Grass, you meet my front steps. The beige paint is weather-worn, showing patches of brick red and copper underneath. We sit on these steps often; we welcome friends and family to our home; we watch the rain and wind during summer storms.

My baby learned to walk by going up and down the path, with the flowers on the big hydrangea bush as her goal. The hydrangea stands to the left of the porch, under the window, drooping under heavy clusters of rich blue flowers. A backdrop for the softest, greenest part of our yard, the hydrangea sees a lot of summer play. The kids play in the sprinkler before the blooms, making sure they get enough water in this Southern heat. The kids wrestle in the grass, picnic in the shade, and play with neighborhood cats. Our baby loves to smell the flowers and gather as many as she can hold in her tiny arms.

The flowers, so dense and colorful, overflow vases all around our home, and are always a sweet treat from my little boy to his mama. They bring life to indoor spaces, and beauty to our home.

Bouquet, 6×7 watercolor on board

In Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, family, flower, hydrangea, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, painting, Southern, story, summer, thoughts, watercolor

Journey in a breath

Mary Liz Ingram — June 7, 2013 — Leave a comment

I wrapped the soft fabric around me, bunched it up in my hand, pressed it to my face and inhaled deeply.

The smells of the exotic filled my mind, bringing memories of expertly pointed piles of spices, rows of scarves swaying from awnings, dusky light filtered between close market stalls; the sound of languages unfamiliar and brass clinking together as the crowds slowly flow down the cobbled path.

Here’s a quick look: Walk down a Jerusalem street

It’s been years – 12 to be exact – since these experiences were my own, as I travelled for a month through Jordan and Syria. And now my husband has returned from a 2-week journey to Israel, bringing treasures wrapped in Arabic newspapers, including my beautiful scarf.

: The Scarf, original photography

: Wrapping paper, original photography

As he lifted the scarf from his bag, I knew that the fabric would be holding the scents of the foreign. I remember opening my own suitcase upon my homecoming those years ago, and being hit by the strong smell of a different place, trapped in the fibers of my clothing.

So I held my gift to my face and breathed deeply and slowly, eyes closed, transported to a place I remember, an experience like no other so far.

The Scarf, 3×4 pastel on card

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, drawing, exotic, Ingram, Israel, journey, Liz, Mary, memories, painting, pastel, pastels, scarf, Sennelier, soft pastel, story, thoughts, travel

Mr. Bean

Mary Liz Ingram — May 31, 2013 — 1 Comment

So I’ve had quite a few days on my own with the kids. I congratulate myself for successfully ending each day with everyone happy and whole by treating myself to a dessert or (oftentimes and) a glass of white wine. After a day of many doings, the house is always very quiet. All my little peeps are asleep, and it’s just me and the cat (my Dad might say, correcting my grammar, “The cat’s not mean.” But I think “me and the cat” sounds more fun than “the cat and I,” and on here I can write how I want. So there.).

It’s quiet. And a little boring.

So here’s a jaunty little poem to describe and illustrate the odd things that may or may not occur on such an evening:

Twas the night with just mommy, the toys put away, successfully living to the end of this day

The children were snuggled up tight in their beds, as visions of Scooby Doo danced in their heads

I on the couch in my pjs at 8:00, settled in with a blanket and dessert on a plate

I’d puttered about like a little old granny, and hummed and muttered and sat on my fanny

I had been in the kitchen preparing my snack, and was struck by a thought as sharp as a smack

I was making odd noises in a sort of narration, excited by donuts, a cause for elation

When it hit me that in this sad humorous scene, I sounded a lot like the man Mr. Bean

Well the noises stopped there, and I went to the couch, I tried to sit up instead of assuming the slouch

“I’m a 31 year old woman,” I said in my head, and though I may not want to go paint the town red

I can hang onto my dignity and hold my head high, then I ate my three donuts without even a sigh.

Toasted Donuts, ink sketch

In Art, poetry, story, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, donuts, humor, Ingram, ink, life, Liz, Mary, Mr. Bean, poem, poetry, sketch, story

Follow the Doodle

Mary Liz Ingram — May 29, 2013 — 2 Comments

I label myself as “Mary Liz Ingram: Pastel Artist and Instructor.” You can read that on this site, on Twitter, Facebook, in my bio. I create “Pieces of the South”: cotton bolls, hay bales, cows, pigs, donkeys, you name it.

But I haven’t been drawing with my pastels very much lately. And I haven’t been drawing cotton or pigs. If you keep up with my blog, you might notice lots of ink doodles, graphite sketches and watercolors of my children.

I believe in a lot of things.

In business, I believe you go for it, you work hard, you do what needs to be done. When beginning my art career, I drew and sold lots of sheep pastels. Sometimes I wanted to draw something else, but I needed to make a name for myself and I needed to “increase the funds,” if you get my drift. So I drew more sheep – lovely, puffy little fellows.

In art, and in life, I believe you need to follow your inspirations. I am now in a place (hooray!) in which I don’t have to push myself as hard to promote and sell my art (thank you world!). I can “chase wild hares,” as my mother might say; I can follow inspiration without asking to where it leads.

As a mother of three, who thankfully gets to spend time with my children in tandem with my day job, I collect moments and experiences that scream to be drawn. I see so much art in my children: in their expressive, clear blue eyes; in their little hands with dimpled knuckles; in their creative mischievousness and busy minds. I’m sure my Facebook friends tire of the barrage of pictures I throw at them; some of the photos I am lucky enough to take are so artistically beautiful and touching to me, I want to share them with others.

There is something so deeply magical about the innocence, freedom and creativity of a child. It touches all our hearts in one way or another. So I follow my inspirations.

Here are a few doodles from our day together:

Front Yard Baseball, ink doodle

First Corn on the Cob, ink doodle

Silly Girl, ink doodle

More of my art inspired by my children (just to choose a few…)

“Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable.”

-Francis Bacon

In Art, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, children, doodle, drawing, Francis Bacon, Ingram, ink, inspiration, Liz, Mary, sketch, story, thoughts

The Siege

Mary Liz Ingram — May 19, 2013 — Leave a comment

Once upon a time, down the hill and around the curve, there lived a small woman in a castle of painted brick and siding. As the flowers bloomed brightly and the vines curled gently up the wall, the woman prepared for her day of honor: a day when the small folk in her care brought tokens of love, thanks and devotion for her days of tireless service.

The woman, who thought herself queen over her realm, received gifts of breakfast, priceless art, blossoms and praise as she reclined on her pillowed throne. The sun lit her day, as the small ones brought smiles into her presence.

Later in this day of tribute, the tides began to turn. There was a shift in the small folk’s demeanor.

Thus began the siege.

It began with a small rebellion by a 5-year-old boy, who called strike upon his labors. No laundry would he fold, no dishes would he put away, no rooms would he clean! He attacked the firm walls of authority with persistent whining, crying and the stomping of feet.

The woman, adept at handling unruly charges, placed him calmly in the corner of reflection until he relinquished his fight. As she took on his labors and folded the clothes of the residents, the boy continued his barrage of shrill protest, chipping rhythmically against the walls of her patience.

Fighting back against the siege, the woman hummed calming melodies as she attempted to retain her stalwart composure. But the battery did not cease.

Hours later, the dinner bell announced the time to serve the feast. The woman, offering treasures of coin to the oldest small one, farmed out the undone chores to the responsible peasant. Meanwhile, a tiny villager ransacked the palace kitchens, scattering plates and bowls all over the dirty floor. The boy continued his attack with tears and the gnashing of teeth, wearing down the resolve of the barely-standing battlements. Continue Reading…

In Art, story, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, corner, fairytale, family, humor, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, motherhood, painting, siege, story, watercolor

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