Caught up -- no catching up to do

This is unfinished - I think - but I'm sending it anyway.  The scene here is a faint echo of an area near Blue Hill, Maine which is about 2 1/2 hours north of Portland.  Don't tell anyone, but the shadows don't coordinate with the sun's location.  Mike

This began and ended as an experiment, trying to find just the right color for sand.  Not there yet.  Still experimenting, but I do feel the ocean breeze. Mike

This began as a large check mark which I intended, for now unremembered reasons, to be only that, but it quickly went beyond my initial plan. Must of been the tobacco I was smoking that April day.  In fact, I love pipes of all sorts, shapes, sizes, but haven't smoked one in almost 50 years.  Lots of family photos, though, show me "smoking" my Dad's pipes when I was  4 and 5, so I got an early start.  In spite of the lengthy time lapse between today and my last bowl full, I can even now smell the aromas of the various tobaccos I used, including a cherry blend and a whiskey blend.  Mike

What's Blue Hill without blue hills?  No telling where this road will lead.  Mike

I need drawing lessons.  My fig tree -- mine by virtue of the fact that Glenn won't touch figs -- is a spindly thing that has survived losing all its leaves to front once and human failure to remember to water it twice.  It deserves better than this drawing.  But, there it is. 

Last night out the front window.  Have a good weekend!

Lordy! here i am catching up -- again!

so, here i am again, catching up on posting our paintings!  i have good excuses -- a cold that stuck with me for nearly the last three weeks, and my retirement this past friday.  i'm going to do my best to post daily -- or however often we create! -- from now on!  melissa

Hi there.Oh, dear!  I think my fish muse swam up the wrong stream, the one by the cannery.  Twice.  Forgive the mischief.  These first two dawned on me . . . well, they dawned on me pre-dawn today, but my pad wasn't letting me send out any emails this morning for some reason.  The cheap Andy soup one I did a few days ago.   "WHITE, WHOLE WHEAT, OR RYE?"  Mike

Chunky Tuna in Oil -- Mike

A Warhol in My Price Range -- Mike

I seem to be stuck on tuna: an obsession continues.  It's not just for lunch anymore.  Mike

(Started this a couple go days ago. Now, as earlier promised, I put my brushes down until Monday.) Mike

Good morning. I know what you mean about pottery.  And, it seems, the older it is the better.  I think you went into the pottery shop near our home.  Whenever I enter that place and spend a few minutes I find myself refreshed.  Cheap therapy, eh.  Likewise, drawing pottery.  Do you think there's something intrinsic - of the earth, maybe - in pottery itself that affects us that way?  I'm enclosing one I don't think I've sent you.  Like your yellow piece, it's a product of my imagination, as are the flowers.   Mike (in response to my pottery below)

Some things I like. (And, I just found a typo!)  Melissa

I really like pottery. Jugs, crocks, bowls, pitchers, you name it.  The tall crockery bottle held Sake -- a gift to my father many, many years ago from someone who had traveled to Japan.  The bottle was too lovely to throw away and I've displayed in my apartment and both our houses. The brown jug is from the 30's or 4o's and was antique store bought. The little mustard yellow jar is a figment of my imagination. I'd like to find one like it.   Melissa

On my mind.  My small group Bible study has a food and fellowship night a few times a year.  Glenn comes with me to these events and enjoys himself.  On Tuesday night, the group surprised me by turning the food and fellowship gathering into a Grandparent shower. We had so much fun opening bag after bag of wonderful things for the baby and some for us -- picture frames, photo albums, etc.  The baby (whose name is still up in the air) is 34 weeks old and would most probably be just fine if she were to come now. Her mom and dad are ready for her and we're all anxious to meet her,  but we're hoping she continues cooking for another 4-5 weeks.  Melissa

Melissa

My Last Work Day in Gifts.  My co-workers overwhelmed me with retirement gifts.  Books from my Amazon wish list, a turning fork for gardening, a cast iron pie plate for use on the wood stove and outdoor kitchen Erika and I are day dreaming about, a bottle of San Diego Zoo label wine, (and a bunch of yummy treats to go with it that I didn't draw.) a mug with sweet sentiments autographed on it, a three month subscription to a craft-a-month service, a gorgeous live plant arrangement with anthuriums, and a nearly life sized carved wood guinea fowl sculpture from Africa that I had been coveting in the Zoo gift shop for a couple of years.  And champagne at lunch!  My last day at work -- almost exactly 45 years after my first day at work -- was perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything better.  Melissa

catching up -- yet again!

This one reminded me in no uncertain terms of the limits of finger painting, hence my several liberties.  I could achieve nothing of the angles, geometry, range, and dark subtleties of Georges Braque's 1909 original, Little Harbor in Normandy.  Braque ties with Picasso as favorites.  His work, though, especially his later pieces were what I'd call less aggressive than Picasso's.

Thank you, Jean-Paul Sartre.  Mike

Not sure what Jackson Pollock would think.  Insufficient dripping, perhaps?  Wrong kind of paint?  Inadequately angry?  Not sure what I think either.  Mike

"Tulip and Company".  For some reason on this Easter morning, I appear to be under the influence - of e. e. cummings and Pablo Picasso.  It could, I suppose, be worse.  The windswept portion of this was accidental, but I liked the effect and decided to keep it and work with it.  Oh, Serendipity, thy name is Art.   Mike

"In the Beginning."  My first use of the Art Studio app.  A myriad of new possibilities.  I've got a lot to learn, but couldn't wait.  It's going to be smarter than I am for quite awhile.  Maybe I'll call George W. Bush and see if he can help me.  Mike

 These guys, who I've not been able to identify, surprised me by swimming into view.  Deep water! Deep thinkers?

 

A good drink on a hot day.  A shrub is a good drink for a hot day.  It's a good drink for any day in my book.  Glenn doesn't care for the mild vinegar bite, but I love it.  He prefers raspberry syrup with fizzy water.  And of course, we like ours with ice.  Melissa

Dinner.

Fears.  Fears about moving to Virginia.

I have a cold.  I hope your Easter is nicer than mine.  Glenn is going next door for a Greek Orthodox celebration -- their Easter and ours coincide this year.  I'm staying home and keeping my snottiness to myself.  I know a plate of food will be handed over the wall at some point, but for now, I'm going to make some chicken matzo ball soup.  Meliss

The hand looks like it is clenched in front of the carrot tops not around them!  I need drawing lessons.

wednesday, april 16

In Good P (as in Myers-Briggs Perceiving) I have no destination in mind with most of these.  But the trip is a nifty one.  Mike

The "?WHY" pic really began as a reflection on a conversation I had this weekend when my Faulkner friend, Dan, asked why people do certain things.  I explained that I throught the question was a misplaced one which inevitably leads away from objectivity into subjectivity, a deadly detour for someone wishing to factually track human behavior.  The misplaced question mark was intended to indicate that.  As I say, it was all born of rumination -- which, as I recall, also means to chew again, as a cow does it's cud.  An apt description, it seems to me, of what I was doing.  Mike.

On Saturday mornings I walk with two friends around a lake across the freeway from my house.  The lake is called Lindo Lake and while it is no longer naturally fed (streams have been re-routed), it is a natural lake and in the years when we get enough rain, it is just beautiful. Pelicans visit the lake this time of year.  Last week there were more than 30 of them.  They look like a ballet chorus swimming together to herd fish to the shallow water where they gobble them down in those big rubbery bill pouches of theirs.  We love seeing them--especially the beautiful white ones.   Melissa

A new uniform.  I wore a uniform to school for 11 years and to work for several more.  I liked it and to this day tend to wear the same things over and over.  I think I've found my new uniform.  Man oh man, are they comfortable! Melissa

I love my dentist.  Today he filled a small cavity and prepared a tooth with an old, huge, cracked filling for a crown.  I'm glad that 2.5 hour appointment is behind me! Melissa

monday, april 14

Seeing life in the Abstract today.  Mike

I'm not responsible for this one.  Occasionally, often, Picasso sneaks up on me and takes possession of my finger.  Mike

Here's to a delicious day on all coasts and in between!  Mike

That's what I get for goofing around at work -- I didn't realize how cut off his nose was until I saved the drawing.  Melissa

I'm letting my garden go for the summer because I will be with Erika, Christian and the baby for most of it and Glenn isn't interested in playing farmer in my absence.  Animal husbandry -- in the form of taking care of "MY" three pets -- is all he'll sign on for.  So, carrots will be my last harvest for a while.  They aren't quite ready yet, but I'm looking forward to the day they are!  Melissa

My doodles.  Melissa

Do you remember doing this type of art project in grade school?  I think it was a way for even the least artistic child to produce a refrigerator-worthy piece.   Melissa

wednesday, april 9

And, not a pigeon in sight.  You can't see it clearly, but the fellow driving the SUV has six fingers on his left hand. -- Mike

A Most Complicated Relationship.  (Begun on 4/5, finished 4/9.) -- Mike

Tomorrow, after work.  --  Melissa

I can't tell you if the chicken or the egg came first, but I can tell you that chickens came first to Erika's and Christian's farm, followed by geese and just today, three turkeys named Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.  You can guess the turkeys' fates... -- Melissa

we are prolific

mike and i are more prolific than i anticipated.  here we are at the very beginning of this blog adventure and i'm already behind!

Time-Keeper or Time-Taker? I don't know which it is, but it returned to duty on our mantel in December after considerable rest and then tender, loving attention by a clock repair specialist here in Portland.  Made of rosewood in the 1860s or 70s, built in Connecticut by the E. N. Welch company, it's called a Welch "Patti".  Now, after a gentle but discernible murmur at five til the hour, it chimes it's message on the hour.   Always my favorite as a kid and his, this was one of several in my Grandfather Miller's antique clock collection and has been in our family since about 1950.  Though this clock keeps the right time and has both of it's hands, when I hear it's bell chiming I'm always reminded of the Easter morning (April 8) kitchen scene with Dilsey in William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury: "On the wall above a cupboard, invisible save at night, by lamp light and even then evincing an enigmatic profundity because it had but one hand, a cabinet clock ticked. Then with a preliminary sound as if it had cleared its throat, struck five times.  'Eight oclock,' Dilsey said."  As for the copper plate hanging on the wall?  Not so copper, eh?  Alas.  More brass than anything. -- Mike

Inspired by (more akin to purloined from) a 4/6/14 New York Times illustration on a piece about China.  -- Mike

 

I love popcorn.  My love for it borders on an addiction, Glenn would tell you. But, I don't particularly care for movie theater popcorn.  The drawing of my hand isn't very good and it isn't accurate at all -- I left off all the age spots! 

The thermometer in my car registered 93 when i pulled into our driveway at 2:00 today.  Tomorrow and Wednesday are supposed to be even hotter! -- Melissa