DEJA VU

YOU ASKED FOR MORE, but are you sure that I haven't posted these before? I'm honored and just wish I could discipline myself to start a Manor sketchbook, but even when I try, sitting with a new sketchbook and my art supplies, nothing comes out of the pencil, pen or brush. I'm stuck.

This was the first thing I tried on one of our road trips and I'll admit that in spite of its simplicity, I was pleased with it. Shortly after, I began keeping travel journals when we went places. And you know the story; sketching took the place of smoking to keep my hands busy and my mind focused.

I no longer have the original for on a foolish whim, I gave it to a lady who was a master at watercolor portraits. I remember her puzzled look when I handed it to her, but it was too late to ask for it back.

I carried a sketchbook into which I pasted a quotation about sketching, something to point to if anyone peered over my shoulder.

On our trips, when we procured a motel and carried in our luggage, Mr. Bob usually flopped onto the bed for a nap and I busied myself sketching him.

My guess is that the quotation on the book may be unreadable, so here it is:

"By definition, a sketch is something 

a little less than finished, and is first 

and foremost a personal activity. 

It has to be valued for what it conveys

 to the originator rather than being judged 

by formal artistic standards.

It's rather like writing yourself

a note in your own handwriting ....

it might be unintelligible to anyone else 

but it does what you intend it to do and

that's all that matters. In the same way,

a sketch can be a reflection of

your personality, attitude and

circumstances and a visual

interpretation of your imagination.

                         -John Marsh-

                        "Sketching Street Scenes"

And if you've seen this all before, that's why I titled it as deja vu.

BROTHER FRANK

DID YOU KNOW that I'm a big sister? Frank was born when I was four and I still remember soon after he came to live with us, hopping down from the breakfast table and taking my last bite of chewed toast out of my mouth and popping it into his wailing maw. Isn't that downright awful, not only the act, but that I would admit it to the world?

I don't write about him a whole lot partly because he's a very private person and partly because we're not as close as some siblings manage to be. As the Fifties turned into the Sixties, he was hip before it was hip to be hip. I was still a disgusting version of Goody Two Shoes. Two very different people. I admired, even if I couldn't emulate his life style. I think, and no wonder, that he found me a bit boring and downright disgusting.

His artistic abilities showed themselves early on and I always considered him to be the one and only artist in the family. Not until I was in my late sixties did I consider putting pen to paper to see what I could draw. He's no Sunday painter. He's a fine artist who enjoyed having a one-man exhibit at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art. His last career was designing posters, brochures and the like for UCSB and designing book covers. He's a clever man, no doubt about it.

Maxwell is his constant companion; a little dog with a big personality. Frank has a colorful past. At one time he was one of several artists who bought land adjacent to Mountain Drive. On his portion he built the most wonderful "hobbit house" into the side of the mountain. His taste is as monastic as mine is cluttery. This tiny house was a gem. Alas, I have no pictures of it to send you.

He now lives down in town and he writes that he's just lost 66 pounds.......envy, envy. The picture he sent last week shows him standing between 2/3 of a triptych he painted of the view he enjoyed in his Mountain Drive house.

No doubt about it, he IS the artist in the family. Oh, and by the way he and a friend have a morning radio show. It's called "Frank 'n' George". If you're interested, you can read all about it by following the link.

"Big sisters are the crab grass in the lawn of life."
                                                                          ~Charles M. Schulz

JANE, THE REJOINER

I'M NOT USUALLY much of a joiner, although years ago I was a member of Diane's weekly needlepoint class. Then I decided that particular form of needlework didn't fit my lifestyle at the time and I dropped out of the group. Remember, never say "Never". Last week I rethought that long-ago decision.


There could be no better setting in which to enjoy the pursuit of stitchery. Diane's home has appeared in more than one magazine and it's a beautiful place.......another reason why I marvel at our continuing friendship. In her English Tudor home, I've never seen one inch square inch of untidiness, whereas I live in middens of "stuff" ....... as though all of my treasured belongings had been stirred with a big spoon. And when in our home, Diane never seems to criticize, although I can just imagine what might be going on in her mind ........ we're that different in our living styles.

Diane's class sits around this table to do their stitching.

It's a joy just to be in this house and the decor changes with the seasons so there's no stopping to think of whether it's fall, summer, spring or winter outside. I met Diane long ago when she was a customer for the children's books she loves and uses in her displays.






















Red Riding Hood is featured in the photo above. We had a customer once upon a time whose daughter referred to the character as "Reddy Ride Hooding", which still makes me smile.

On with my story. Diane recently, when reading my anguished blogs about our present situation, invited me to rejoin her class, even though I'd have to bring my knitting rather than using thread and canvas as the other students do. I grabbed at the opportunity to be out in the world for a few hours with normally functioning human beings and enjoyed the first session last Saturday.

Eva brought her completed piece to show to the group.

I wonder how many stitches it contained and the title reminded me of the road trip I'd thought about taking, driving back roads to North Carolina. I was only halfway serious about it, but any such idea has now been obliterated.

Carol is working on a tiny canvas of a merry Santa Claus. She enjoys working small on canvas 18 holes to the inch. I remember Carol in high school and never dreamed we'd be stitching together 60 years later.

Fiona was in the midst of an ambitious project involving rabbits. As long as I've known her she's had projects under way. Before I met Fiona nearly 50 years ago, she had enjoyed a wood carving period and has done beautiful shutters for her home and a gate, as well as a mantle over the fireplace. And together we knit whole outfits for ourselves for a good, long while. Nowadays it's needlepoint for her.





Diane stitches daily and is working on a rug of beautiful designs.

She's amazing and her lovely home is filled with her work.

How lucky we are to have her as our needlework mentor.

 

Not only did I accomplish a few rows of knitting, but the conversation was good and regardless of which direction it took, Diane had something from her copious library to further enhance the subject. I'm not sure how I brought up the matter of Gee's Bend, but in addition to the story of that town's ferry which caught my interest in a Pulitzer Prize winning series in the Los Angeles Times back in 2000, the subject of the community's residents and their famous quilts was appropriate for the needlework group.

It was a refreshing morning and I returned to the Manor a renewed person, I think. And I get to do it again next Saturday!

Mr. Bob is doing fabulously well, doesn't mind and probably looks forward to his solitary time. There's food in the dining room downstairs and a string in each room to pull in case of an emergency. What could be better?

P. S. Yesterday, I gave you some erroneous information when I said that Diane's book, "Wonderful Stitches".  is out of print. I was mistaken. It's beyond me as to why no major publisher ever picked it up.  It can be ordered from Lulu by following this link. 

"Really I don't dislike to cook, but what you cook is eaten so quickly.  When you sew, you have something that will last to show for your efforts."

                                        ~Elizabeth Travis Johnson

PYSANKY

WHAT IT IS about 
this sort of folk art that touches my soul? 
I don't honestly know. 

I've lost track of which Spring it was 
that Mr. Bob accepted my suggestion that 
we go to a Russian Center in Hollywood 
to enroll in a class on decorating an egg 
in this fashion.

I remember little about the class. 
What I do recall is that it was traditional 
to start with a raw egg. 

I remember wax and a candle flame 
and a stylus.

I recollect that it was very serious business. 

No laughter.

I experienced an 
overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

There was only so much that an amateur could accomplish in an hour or two.

We carefully brought home our eggs....

pitiful little efforts they were.

Time went by 

and

one by one

our two eggs exploded.

THE END

ARTS & CRAFTS

A WHILE AGO, it was announced that the Manor would be staging an exhibit of arts and crafts rendered by the residents. Everyone was asked to bring samples of their work to the main desk. When the day came we were pleasantly surprised to see how many folks had recognized their creative side and produced interesting things. It took several tables in our main lounge to display a variety of handiwork.

'Round and 'round the room we went, snapping pictures 

Quilting

Stitchery

Painting

Knitting and embroidery

Crocheting and jewelry

Photography

Needlepoint

Sculpting

Knitting

Watercolor

Scrapbooking

Crocheting

Painted pottery

Inventing

And last of all.............

Stained glass and illustrated travel journals

THE BOOK SURGEON

YESTERDAY was lazy, but at least today I'm dressed. However, I'm being shiftless about the blog today and offering this, suggesting that you visit the linked site. I think you'll be gobsmacked, which means clapping a hand to one's mouth in astonishment. Courtesy of my artist brother.

http://www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/the-book-surgeon-15-pieces