Baby Fairy Continued…

Well, here is the baby fairy picture I am working on right now.  The first picture below is the one I posted in an earlier post.  I had just done the baby’s skin then, and now I have just finished the surrounding leaves and the baby’s hat and shoes.  I know this doesn’t seem like much, but since I want this picture to look more fantasy-like,  I am using many more colors.  I want to go with purples, pinks, and bright greens and yellows.  So, the leaves you see under the baby here are the result of  about 5 different layers of colors.  Now I can start to work the grass and the dreamy sky.  I think I want the sky to be a purple hue with a touch of pink, then even stars or fireflies twinkling around the baby. I don’t  really know at this point, but that’s what I am seeing.

The next time I show you this will be when I am finished, and  that will be hopefully in a few days, depending on Christmas, schedules and the rest.

Hope you like what you see so far.  Until next time…. 🙂

1st stage, baby's skin

2nd stage, surrounding leaves, hat and shoes,wings

The Forgotten Ones (Another Reblog)

Here is another popular reblog.  I feel it is appropriate right now because of Halloween approaching and the whole cemetery thing.  I hope you enjoy this.  It really makes you think.

The Forgotten Ones In Autumn

The Forgotten Ones

The view from my second – story  bedroom window is a humbling one.  It reminds me how precious life is everyday.  The view is of a simple cemetery, not quite historical, but dated, none-the-less.

I don’t mind the cemetery at all.  Our house is separated from the cemetery by a stockade fence, a steep slope and railroad tracks that sit down below. These tracks are not for an Amtrak, but for an occasional slow-moving train transferring goods.  I  take comfort in the fact that know no one will ever build over there, and as neighbors to us,  they never make a fuss.  The geese fly low overhead and it is very peaceful.

The  view to me is comforting, almost like an old friend, now.  The same stones greet me every morning when I open up my blinds.  Sometimes the view can look rather eerie when there is a low fog rolling in, and then sometimes, it can look overwhelmingly beautiful, like just after a snowstorm.

There are times I have been depressed and sat on my bed feeling hopeless about a situation, and then through teary eyes, I’ll glance over at the solemn view,  and my mind starts reeling.  Someday that will be me, nothing more than a name on a stone.  Who will remember me?  The things I liked, the friends I knew. The things I’ve done?  Will it all have mattered?  Did I make a difference?  An impression?  Then suddenly,  my current problem doesn’t seem so important after all.  That could be me over there.

Those stones sit there everyday and I see no one.  Not one visitor.  Maybe on a very, rare occasion, I’ll see a lone person sitting on a stone having lunch like they are sitting with an old friend, or a car will sit there and someone may get out and wander.  I mostly see joggers and walkers, and the occasional person walking their dog, only to have it relieve itself on a stone.  Now. that’s a memory I wish not to have when I am gone.

The church in the distance rings out the time at 9:00, 12:00 and 6:00, and I think to myself,  how odd that is , especially for those in the cemetery who don’t care about the time anymore. And the stones sit there day after day, alone in the rain…in the snow…surrounded in leaves…and then sometimes, the miniature flags come out, like for Memorial Day. It looks slightly alive for awhile.

I wonder when the cemetery was first new, how many family members must have come to visit here.  Year after year, with flowers and small gifts.  I can picture groups of families, probably crying and hanging on to each other. Ill bet it was very busy for a long time… and then it just slowly got forgotten. People got older and passed on, moved away or something.  The visiting stops and the stones just sit there and look like they are waiting. Waiting for someone to  just remember them. The people there.  They were here once, talking and laughing.  They had families and memories and pasts.  How sad.  I don’t want this to be me someday, but I guess it will be inevitable.

So, one day, I’ve promised to buy a rose or two.  I’ll walk through the plots and read the names and imagine the lives of the ones that lie there. I’ll place  a rose on top of a stone, stand back and smile… and maybe, I will even say a prayer.

Then, I will say

to myself, “No, you are not forgotten…not today”.

The Forgotten Ones In Winter

Norman Rockwell-Perfect For His Time (via Cherylmcnulty’s Blog)

Here is a blog I wrote about my favorite artist some time ago. I want to write another blog on Norman Rockwell, a more intimate one on the man and my visit to Stockbridge, Mass. and seeing his paintings up close in the museum there. I will do that soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this post. It is funny to think about. 🙂

    Norman Rockwell…what can I say?  He was such a wonderful illustrator.  The way he illustrated life was genuine.  A whole story could be told in a single illustration without one word being written.  All you had to do was really look at the picture, and you could somehow relate to what he was trying to tell you through his … Read More

via Cherylmcnulty's Blog

Happy Memorial Day!!!

So sorry I haven’t kept up with my posts, but it’s a little crazy right now with a new job and a sick dog and also a pending graduation.  I will try and post some new stuff…I will…I will…  I feel so far behind right now…on everything.

I will hopefully be more on track as I get this schedule down.  I keep hoping I’ll get some new drawings to show you, but I guess it has to be scheduled as well, or it won’t get done, and I can’t let that happen.  Drawing is like breathing to me.

Anyway, have a great Memorial Day and stay safe.  Enjoy the pic here and I will talk soon. 🙂

Summertime In The 1970’s

The Famous Hibachi Grill

Sitting out front on our porch (70’s)

Oh yes, I remember  summer in the 70’s like it was yesterday.  These times were the best.  I was just a teen experiencing love and everything was exciting.

Tank tops,bell bottom jeans and cut-off shorts.  Hanging out on the front porch with my sister and friends.  Tan and slim and acting goofy, waiting for it to turn dark, that’s all.

We always had potato salad and burgers on the grill…the hibachi.  Dad would use the charcoal briquettes and lighter fluid (I can still smell it to this day) and waited for the charcoal to turn to hot ash.  After dinner there would be toasted marshmallows, which always had there own unique taste. That was the smell of summer, along with the smell of Skin-So-Soft from Avon.  After a day at the beach, you would come home and have a warm bath to wash off all the sand and the coconut-smelling Coppertone suncream (hardly ever used a shower) and the oils would soften and smooth the skin to feel like velvet, and the smell…heavenly.

Some “Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific”  or “Herbal Essence” (just one fragrance) shampoo and you smelled great!  Everyone had long hair…until Dorothy Hamill came on the scene.  That’s when I cut mine.

Anyway, when we would have cook outs, my dad would go down the street to get ice, not at Sunnybrook Farms  Milk store but the ice house, which just cut ice for you.  He would load the ice in metal garbage cans 3/4 full and then load every soda imaginable in there.  Every can was icy cold…and I’m sure, very sugary.  Who cared!  After dinner we always had Entenmanns Cakes, chocolate chip cookies or brownies, which were then, rather new.

I think of it now, when my sister and I would sit outside on the lounge chairs all day, starting as early as the spring just to get a tan, it was like even though we sat in the driveway, men were everywhere gawking.  From the pizzeria behind our house, where the guys constantly put out trash, especially when they saw us out there. To the milk man, bakery truck man,egg man, meter reading guy…everyone came to the house.  How did we ever get any privacy???  I can’t believe how you had all these people showing up at the house.

Do you remember the ice cream man…and then the lawn mower truck (they would also sharpen your blades).  They had a truck that sounded like the ice cream man, and it always fooled me!

My sister and I hung out on the porch most of the time blasting our stereo from the living room listening to tunes like “Na Na Hey Hey” and “OOh, OOh Child”.  If not that then we would listen to her toot-a-loop, does anyone remember this thing????  It was a radio shaped like an O and you could open it and sit it on a table in the shape of an “S”.  Look it up on google. So funny.

We had Prell shampoo and floating Ivory Soap, then there was also Irish Spring or Tone, and Colgate Toothpaste.  That’s the names I remember.  My Mom smoked “BelAirs” or “Salems” and Dad always smoked the filterless  “Lucky Strikes”.  You could also buy these at the gas station down the street in a vendor machine…anyone could buy them. Amazing.

Rocky Point Amusement Park was our destination in the summertime.  It wasn’t summer until we went their with our boyfriends or friends.  That was the best, besides long days at the beach.  Clamcakes and chowder…and still we were thin!

Yes, I remember it was like yesterday. and I would take all that stress- free time back in a minute, before they invented computers and cell phones and all  the interruptions that go along with them.

These were definitely good times…good times.  🙂

Here are some songs that epitomize the summertime of the ’70’s.  Perfect!

I Want To Go Back

The Time To Be Happy Is Now

Sometimes the world seems like such a stressed-out place to be, that I wish I could go back in time and be a child all over again.

I want to go back… back to when I was about 5 years old  and living at home.

The feeling of being safe and free from worry.

Thinking back…

back…

back… I can see myself running outside in the crisp,cool air.

I was always outside.

Being small, energetic and young, I can play outside all day and not even tire.

I’m running,  always running.  Out toward the wide open space of the field that is behind my house.

It is early fall, and most likely at dusk.  My cheeks are cold, my nose is cold, but it feels good.

I stop for just a moment and listen… I hear the crows.  I smell the damp earth.  My toes tingle.

Looking back at my house in the distance,  I can see that the light is on in my warm kitchen.

Mom is probably at the sink as supper is being prepared.

What will it be?  A roast perhaps, gravy…and mashed potatoes.  There’s always potatoes.

I feel warm inside.

My family will be there when I get back. Mom, dad ,grandma, my older sister, and 3 younger brothers.

The house will be warm and safe.

But for now, I’m out in all this space by myself ,  yet  somehow, I don’t feel alone.

I couldn’t be with all this beauty.  So much to investigate…rocks, leaves, mud.

I have no schedule.  I don’t care about the time.

I just have to wait for the streetlight to come on, and then I’ll  go home to eat supper.

I’ll be fed and have a warm bath.

I’ll sit by grandma on the couch watching tv and lean on her warm, smooth arm.  I may even fall asleep there.

Someone will pick me up and put me to bed.  Is it dad?  Is it Mom?  I don’t care.

I’ll be tucked in and have my doll with me.

Someone will kiss me and turn off the light.

Then I’ll be in total darkness, but I won’t feel afraid.

I’m free,   I’m loved and I am safe.  That’s all that matters.

Yes, take me back!

I’d give anything  to go back in time and be a child all over again.

Just to experience the freedom from worry again .  The way we were excited in the little things.

To watch the world go by….

I thought it would last forever.

Silly me. 🙂

The Beauty Of The Hours (Reposted)

This is a quote I illustrated awhile back which I really love.  It’s how I really feel about living and enjoying every minute of every day.  Time goes by so quickly.  My kids are now 15, 17 and 19 years of age.  I was a stay- at- home mom, and I loved it.  I wouldn’t  have changed any of it.

Today, as I was folding clothes on my bed, I put on an old CD I used to play for the kids (posted in post above) when they were small and read their books.  It was music from the Beatrix Potter animated series that was on PBS .

The Beauty Of The Hours

 

  I love this CD as it helps me focus and think like a child when I have to be creative, drawing,etc.  When I started listening, I almost wanted to cry.  I could picture the three of them sitting on the couch, curled up reading their books.  Their stuffed animals cuddled under their arms while having a snack.  I remember this as clearly as it happened yesterday.  Times were so laid back then.  No homework, studying for SAT’s, driver’s ed and dating problems.  It was excitement, playfulness and innocence.  Hugs and kisses.  I’d take it all back in a second.

Anyway, before I get too emotional, this is what made me want to illustrate this quote.  This is what I picture when I read the words.  It makes me feel serene looking at the girl on the beach, just enjoying something as simple as listening to a seashell.  Can’t you hear it?  Enjoy!  

Cheryl

The Time To Be Happy Is Now

Yet another picture done with a girl on a hillside.  I must really like that feeling of being alone and looking out over the horizon…can’t you tell.  These pictures were all done before I started doing the more realistic pictures with faces up close and all the detail.  I like drawing both ways and I feel I can be more free with expression this way for some reason.  There is more movement in the picture.  Flowing scarves, summer dresses and wisps of hair that blow in the wind.  I also like this quote.  Enjoy.  🙂

The Time To Be Happy Is Now

The Forgotten Ones

 

The Forgotten Ones

 

The view from my second – story  bedroom window is a humbling one.  It reminds me how precious life is everyday.  The view is of a simple cemetery, not quite historical, but dated, none-the-less.

I don’t mind the cemetery at all.  Our house is separated from the cemetery by a stockade fence, a steep slope and railroad tracks that sit down below. These tracks are not for an Amtrak, but for an occasional slow-moving train transferring goods.  I  take comfort in the fact that know no one will ever build over there, and as neighbors to us,  they never make a fuss.  The geese fly low overhead and it is very peaceful.  

The  view to me is comforting, almost like an old friend, now.  The same stones greet me every morning when I open up my blinds.  Sometimes the view can look rather eerie when there is a low fog rolling in, and then sometimes, it can look overwhelmingly beautiful, like just after a snowstorm.  

There are times I have been depressed and sat on my bed feeling hopeless about a situation, and then through teary eyes, I’ll glance over at the solemn view,  and my mind starts reeling.  Someday that will be me, nothing more than a name on a stone.  Who will remember me?  The things I liked, the friends I knew. The things I’ve done?  Will it all have mattered?  Did I make a difference?  An impression?  Then suddenly,  my current problem doesn’t seem so important after all.  That could be me over there. 

Those stones sit there everyday and I see no one.  Not one visitor.  Maybe on a very, rare occasion, I’ll see a lone person sitting on a stone having lunch like they are sitting with an old friend, or a car will sit there and someone may get out and wander.  I mostly see joggers and walkers, and the occasional person walking their dog, only to have it relieve itself on a stone.  Now. that’s a memory I wish not to have when I am gone.

The church in the distance rings out the time at 9:00, 12:00 and 6:00, and I think to myself,  how odd that is , especially for those in the cemetery who don’t care about the time anymore. And the stones sit there day after day, alone in the rain…in the snow…surrounded in leaves…and then sometimes, the miniature flags come out, like for Memorial Day. It looks slightly alive for awhile.

I wonder when the cemetery was first new, how many family members must have come to visit here.  Year after year, with flowers and small gifts.  I can picture groups of families, probably crying and hanging on to each other. Ill bet it was very busy for a long time… and then it just slowly got forgotten. People got older and passed on, moved away or something.  The visiting stops and the stones just sit there and look like they are waiting. Waiting for someone to  just remember them. The people there.  They were here once, talking and laughing.  They had families and memories and pasts.  How sad.  I don’t want this to be me someday, but I guess it will be inevitable.

So, one day, I’ve promised to buy a rose or two.  I’ll walk through the plots and read the names and imagine the lives of the ones that lie there. I’ll place  a rose on top of a stone, stand back and smile… and maybe, I will even say a prayer.

Then, I will say

 to myself, “No, you are not forgotten…not today”.

Norman Rockwell-Perfect For His Time

 

Norman Rockwell Illustration on Gossip

 

Norman Rockwell…what can I say?  He was such a wonderful illustrator.  The way he illustrated life was genuine.  A whole story could be told in a single illustration without one word being written.  All you had to do was really look at the picture, and you could somehow relate to what he was trying to tell you through his art. He was perfect for his time.

I often wonder what he would be illustrating if he were still here and illustrating daily living today!  It would definitely not be the same!

Like the illustration he did of the girl getting ready for her prom. Instead of a girl looking innocently in a mirror,with her dress in hand, I picture a girl running off to a tanning salon, a nail salon, possibly sitting in a limo with friends.etc.  How would he illustrate that today?

Okay, cell phones!  I could picture him illustrating someone walking with a cell phone…better than that…shopping while talking on the cell phone!  Yes, can’t you picture this illustration-a person standing in a checkout line at the store, maybe the 12 items or less line, and he’s got the counter cluttered with grocery items (more than 12 obviously)and he’s holding up the line, completely oblivious to the fact of all the disgusted looks on  peoples faces in the background! Yes!  I’ve even experienced that one!

How about illustrating a woman putting on makeup while driving to work, I can definitely see that one.  Hey, I have seen that one…in person!

Or instead of an illustration of a child sitting there quietly reading his book, he’s  now being illustrated at the kitchen table or on his bed on his laptop!    How about a group of friends sitting around playing a war game on their huge, flat screen tv… all their eyes intent on the screen, snacks all around and arms flying every which way.

I can picture an illustration of guys watching the super bowl on television with fists and angry faces up to the tv!  Oh yes, with snacks and beer everywhere!  

It would definitely be a different world to illustrate today!  I’m just glad Norman Rockwell was here for the time he was meant to be here, even though his illustrations will continue to be popular in any time period. It’s nice to just thumb through his illustrations and see a less stressed and down- to- earth America and I’d like to remember his illustrations this way.

Now, can you picture what he would have done with this “gossip” illustration I posted here, if he were to illustrate something like this today?  I shudder at the thought…mmmm…cell phones, facebook, blue tooth, twitter…

I prefer not to think about it!

Thank you, Norman. We love you and I think we would all agree you were perfect for your time!