Mary Liz Ingram Art | Tag Archive

What’s in a name?

Mary Liz Ingram — February 27, 2013 — Leave a comment

You’re expecting a baby. You toss around this name, argue over that name. You think of the ways someone could make fun of the name, what it rhymes with, how it looks in writing. For me, I knew the baby’s name as soon as the gender was discovered. For my sister, her baby had a name when they were forced to turn in the birth certificate form. It’s a big deal, naming a person!

In a different setting (or if you’re like me, with said baby on your hip), it’s time to choose another name: another “product of your labors,” if you will (ha ha).

The Clod & The Pebble, 18×24 Soft Pastel on board,

Your art is complete. You stand back, considering the image, thinking of the message, the voice you hope it conveys…the mood, the feeling. It’s time to give it a name. Sometimes a name seems to come pre-attached to your artwork and is easy to choose, such as my “The Clod and the Pebble,” which was inspired by the poetry of William Blake. Sometimes extensive creativity is not required, like a friend of mine who numbers his cow paintings (Cow 1, Cow 34, etc.). Sometimes naming art can be comical, when you try to be real “artsy fartsy” and call it “Life Emerging from Heartstrings” or “Purple Mists Over the Lands of Love.” (apologies if anyone has chosen these fabulous, imaginary titles…)

At other times, you stare and stare and your mind draws a blank. This happens to me A LOT. I’ll toss names around, and finally just settle for one that I may find a bit silly. Continue Reading…

In Art Alabama, Art, artist, baby, Birmingham, Cotton, drawing, Ingram, Liz, Mary, Mona Lisa, name, pastels, soft pastel, thoughts, tips, title

Memories Hiding in Biscuits

Mary Liz Ingram — February 24, 2013 — Leave a comment

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…

In Art, story, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, biscuit, dinner, drawing, family, grandmother, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, pastel, pastels, salt, sketch, soft pastel, Southern, story, table, thoughts

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…

In Art, history, reflections Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, Cotton, drawing, history, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, painting, pastel, pastels, Sennelier, soft pastel, Southern, story, thoughts

The Birds

Mary Liz Ingram — February 12, 2013 — 2 Comments

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

In Art, poetry Alabama, Art, artist, bird, Birmingham, drawing, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, pastel, pastels, poem, poetry, sketch, soft pastel, thoughts

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

“A picture’s worth a thousand words”

In Art, story Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, drawing, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, moment, pastel, pastels, picture, sketch, soft pastel, story, thoughts, words

Bookworm

Mary Liz Ingram — January 30, 2013 — Leave a comment

I’m a bookworm.

I love to read, and I read everyday. I read when I rest with baby, on lazy mornings while sipping coffee, and every night before I go to sleep. This love of reading has been literally passed down through my dad’s side of the family through generations. We have this tradition of book-sharing, and you MUST initial the inside cover signifying completion before you pass it along.

My favorite books are, as I call them, light mysteries…you know, the kind without any disturbing, gory crimes. Just good “whodunits” that keep you guessing. For example, I’ve read all the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, most books by Dick Francis, and I’m currently reading my grandfather’s 1930s editions of Valentine Williams’ Secret Service Series. Love it.

Writing inspires me. Much of my art has been inspired by words: poetry of William Blake and Emily Dickinson, Southern literature like Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns, and poetry and stories that I write like Little Feathers and my Such is Life series.

Here are a few of my pieces that have been inspired by literature: Continue Reading…

In Art, inspiration Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, book, books, drawing, Ingram, inspiration, life, literature, Liz, Mary, pastels, reading, soft pastel, thoughts

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…

In Art, life, story, Uncategorized Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, drawing, family, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, pastels, sketch, soft pastel, story, thoughts

Such is Life, Act Two

Mary Liz Ingram — January 21, 2013 — 2 Comments

An intermission has ended, as the routine of life has been lived another week. The audience takes a seat once more, as the curtain is raised.

The stage, reset, now reveals a sunny winter’s day at the small home on the fringes of a bustling Southern city. The young working mother takes her place in the haven of leather armchair, a brief respite from the busy game of everyday life. On stage right, the baby naps in her crib. Stage left, the other children play together in a tango of happy cooperation and bossy annoyance.

Her head resting askew upon her supportive hand, the mother reminisces upon the events of a few days past, when the city slowed to a crawl. The spotlight centers on her place, as she recalls the day when the snow began to fall. Continue Reading…

In Art, life, reflections, story Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, drama, drawing, family, humor, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, pastels, reflections, snow, soft pastel, story, thoughts

I Will Light Candles…

Morning Vigil, 6×12″ pastel on card

Candles of joy, despite all sadness,

Candles of hope where despair keeps watch.

Candles of courage where fear is ever present,

Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days,

Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens.

Candles of love to inspire all my living.

Candles that will burn all the year long.

-Howard Thurman

Sunday thoughts…

Posted by Mary Liz Ingram on January 20, 2013 In Art, reflections, thoughts Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, candles, drawing, Ingram, Liz, Mary, morning, pastels, prayer, Sennelier, soft pastel, thoughts, vigil

1 Comment

Porch-rocking kind of day…

Mary Liz Ingram — January 15, 2013 — Leave a comment

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…

In Art, reflections, Southern Alabama, Art, artist, Birmingham, charcoal, family, history, Ingram, life, Liz, Mary, porch, Southern, thoughts

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