The lull between projects

I've finished some projects this past week but I'm not ready to publish them yet so I thought I'd share with you one of my passions
painting.
One of my fondest memories growing up was going to my grandmas house and watching her paint. She paints with oils, draws with pencil, charcoal and pastels, and she even used to own a ceramic shop. She is a true artist. I remember walking with my sisters and cousins to her ceramic shop and collecting the broken or discarded pieces of clay and using them as chalk on the sidewalk outside her store. My sisters and I used to paint a ceramic ornament to put our school picture in each year for the Christmas tree (one day I'm hoping to steal these little treasures from my mother for my own tree).

When I was about 10yrs old or so my grandmother decided to give my little sister, my cousin, and I a few painting lessons and I believe it was at this moment my view on art changed drastically. I developed a whole new respect for grandma because being an artist was hard...
like REALLY hard.
I learned all things worth doing are difficult and the pride in the outcome is worth all the frustration and struggle.

This is my first painting...ever (notice the sloppy 4th grader cursive handwriting). I remember Grandma holding my hand in hers and guiding my brush strokes until I got it just right. She taught me how to hold a paint brush correctly and her voice still echos in my brain to this day when I pick up a brush: "stop holding it like a pencil Missy."

This is the second painting I did. I was 11 or 12 yrs old at the time (notice I gave up on the cursive). There are far less "examples" and far more of my own brush strokes by now and in just a few lessons my ability to paint leaves improved drastically. My cherries however, look like apples. Perspective...something I still struggle with to this day.

By the time I was 14 or 15 I was on my own. Grandma gave me the basic skills to do the job and it was all on me to use my creativity and knowledge to create a masterpiece. I chose a purple rose. This is the painting I am the most proud of. This is the first piece of art I did 100% on my own. Grandma was always there to offer some guidance but all brush strokes belonged to me. I entered this into the fair and won first place. It was a very happy moment.

I did one more painting when I was a teenager and then packed up my brushes, paint, and creativity to focus on high school and choir and family and life.

After a long hiatus I started up again when I was 22yrs old. After completing my first painting in what seemed like an eternity I realized I forgot to apply 90% of what grandma taught me. 

It was a horrible piece of artwork

Back to square one.

After re-teaching myself much of what I was taught 10 years prior (and a few "I don't know what I'm doing" pleas to Grandma) I finally got it down.

Please excuse the poor photo quality on some of these (please note these are NOT in chronological order):

Sunset

Midnight at the park

Fjord



Study

My first painting using acrylics

Hibiscus

coffee beans.

Brooklyn Bridge experiment
using Gesso

Summer Stream

Morning Sky

I've learned that there is beauty in everything...its all around us. Its hard to see at times because our view is shaddowed, darkened, and narrowed by lifes unexpected trials and tribulations. By opening our eyes and finding the right collor pallet, the beauty around us shines through even the darkest of times.

I stopped painting again when I got pregnant with Lil E. Apparently inhaling Oil paints and paint thinner is bad for fetal development (pout). Now that Lil E is here I have a list of painting projects that will last me for years. I better get started before I forget how to paint again :)