Mary Liz Ingram Art | Tag Archive

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

Nosy Neighbor

Mary Liz Ingram — June 5, 2013 — 2 Comments

Staring seems to accompany boredom.

We have a very wee little house, and I’ve been in it with three kids for quite a few days in a row. They play, we have “dance parties,” they go in the back yard, the front yard, we chill, we eat, we draw…but like I said, it’s a small space for busy little people.

The cat and I find ourselves gazing out the window. We see the busy, worm-searching birds, the neighborhood cats languidly crossing the road; we see our neighbors take their dogs for walks, people coming and going, weeding gardens, washing cars. We look at the blue hydrangeas drooping in the heat, and I go out to water them.

I read an article the other day, while lounging in my window-side leather chair, as the baby napped and the kids played. It was about being privately vs. publicly alone…interesting little snippet. It says “To be privately alone can be difficult, because wherever we go, there we are, yammering away at ourselves,” i.e. driving ourselves crazy. Moping, getting grumpy, worrying, thinking about problems and to-do lists. (Also, being jealous and missing your husband while he’s on an exotic trip.)

The author recommends “mindfulness, a practice that sounds esoteric but simply means focusing on what’s around you instead of the chatter in your head.”

So I decided to stop wallowing, and soak in my surroundings: my sweet kids, even when they’re squabbling; the sound of “Mama” coming from my baby’s room as she wakes; the beauty of the tree in my yard, the quiet sounds drifting through my screen door.

Life is very good. And Daddy is on his way home.

Nosy Neighbor, 8×8 pastel on card

In Art Alabama, alone, Art, artist, Birmingham, cat, drawing, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, painting, pastel, pastels, Real Simple, Sennelier, soft pastel, thoughts

“What’s Got Your Goat,” or “Green with Envy”

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

For the fourth or fifth day running, I was in a foul mood.

I raise a glass to the single parents out there, because my temporary single-parenting has kicked my booty. I salute you. It is hard, lonely and exhausting.

This string of strange, colorful barnyard beasts have been my unexpected therapy over this past week, letting my frustrations and irritations transfer from my mind to the paper. I have a solemn blue cow, a mellow purple pig, a feisty orange hen, and now a green billy goat.

This bearded fellow is quirky and odd, and I have to say I’m a little startled that I created a weird green goat. But hey, that’s what came out today. I was feeling some ugly emotions, and my almost creepy little friend told the story. I don’t mean for him to be creepy…he’s really a cute little goat until I turned him green.

As I repeatedly tell my kids: The good thing about art is that you can do whatever you want.

You too can draw a green goat when you’re in a bad mood.

"What's Got Your Goat," or "Green with Envy," 8x8 pastel on card

“What’s Got Your Goat,” or “Green with Envy,” 8×8 pastel on card

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, drawing, envy, goat, green, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, monochromatic, painting, pastel, pastels, Sennelier, soft pastel, thoughts

Mother Hen

Mary Liz Ingram — June 3, 2013 — Leave a comment

I woke up early to the sound of the baby crying, impatient to be lifted from her crib and deposited into her high chair for some Cheerios. The other two were scurrying around in their pjs, building legos and sewing felt animals, asking for their breakfast.

I stumbled my way to the kitchen for some coffee, and had one of “those” moments: where everything feels like Groundhog Day with Bill Murray.

All I heard was “Mommy, mommy, mommy” and I felt really tired.

For some reason, colorful barnyard animals have been popping into my head at these moments of heightened “sensitivity,” we might say. And this morning, as I sipped my coffee, I thought of a bright orange mother hen and her chicks.

A protective, attentive mother, a bit tired, perhaps letting out a sigh during a moment of weariness. Warm and cozy, but feeling a little irritable.

Well…that description came to me after I drew it. My first thought was of a tired, grumpy chicken.

I ADORE my children. They are unique, precious and beautiful to me, and I devote my life to their happiness, well-being and care with all my heart…

But, occasionally, a mom feels grouchy about being a mom, at least for a moment. And it’s okay.

We shouldn’t feel guilty for feeling like it’s Groundhog Day, when the cycle repeats and beats us down. We still gladly protect our little chicks– we still fix their breakfast, comb their hair and smother them in love and kisses.

The weariness passes quickly, and balance is restored…

Mother Hen, 8×8 pastel on card

In Art, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, chick, chicken, drawing, family, Groundhog Day, hen, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, monochromatic, orange, painting, pastel, pastels, pencil, Sennelier, soft pastel, thoughts

The Blues

Mary Liz Ingram — June 1, 2013 — 3 Comments

Sometimes it’s just one of those days…

Moping around, I was feeling blue. It was evening, I was trying to be “nice mommy” and put everyone to bed with a gentle smile despite my cranky blues. Grrrr.

So I went into my art room and drew a blue cow.

After posting him on Facebook, a few comments about his expression showed how much he reflected my mood. My dear friend Carl wrote: “Love the look in Big Blues eyes! He looks like he’s daring you to cross him!” Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

Big Blue, 8×8 pastel on card

So the next night, I was less grumpy and feeling more like throwing myself a pity party. Poor me, pitiful tired me…

My pity party lasted for a few minutes. I told myself to get off my booty and to stop wallowing.

Which made me think of a purple pig.

Not sure why I’m drawing these colorful farm animals, a la The Wizard of Oz’s horse of a different color, but I’m just going with it. It’s kinda fun.

So I drew a purple pig. And, as with the blue cow, I feel better now. Thanks, pig.

Stop Wallowing, 8×8 pastel on card

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, blue, blues, cow, drawing, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, painting, pastel, pastels, pig, purple, Sennelier, soft pastel, Southern, thoughts, Wizard of Oz

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

Grandfather's OLD and awesome coffee can with my brushes

An Artist’s Perks

Mary Liz Ingram — May 14, 2013 — Leave a comment

There are many of benefits to being an artist:

*Free, yet thoughtful, Christmas presents (as well as wedding, birthday, baby, anniversary, and, ahem, any presents…)

*An excuse for any quirks or eccentricities, aka being weird

*A ready excuse for wearing odd or mismatched clothes, or for having embarrassingly shabby fingernails

*Having a creative storehouse at your (dirty) fingertips

Another fabulous perk to being an artist is that if you are at your daughter’s ballet recital, and your phone (yes, I didn’t bring a camera) is unable to take photos due to the lighting, you can doodle your way to preserving memories.

I sat down at my kitchen table the Sunday evening after her glorious “Under the Sea” ballet performance and doodled a few of my favorite ballet moments:

The little 3-year-old “beach-goer” who frolicked around the stage, refusing to follow the plan:

Scamper, Ink Doodle

The sweet little ballerinas dressed and accessorized to be “jellyfish,” with tentacled umbrellas:

Jellyfish, Ink Doodle