A Simple Woman's Daybook. 3.25.13

It feels like a Daybook kind of night. So I'm linking up here:  A Simple Woman's Daybook.

FOR TODAY

Outside my window... we are waiting for the predicted "dusting to an inch of snow."  However,  considering the track record of professional weather forecasters here in Maryland, we probably should have bought a generator today.

I am thinking...about all the things on my DIY project list.  Yesterday I posted a biggie (framed pegboard) that I'm eager to start. But, on a much smaller scale--with a higher priority--is a sewing project.  Today my future daughter-in-law brought me the fabric to make the  pillow that the 3-year-old ringbearer will carry. Oh, my goodness, he is going to be so cute with this little 7x7 thing! (For the record, no, he will not be carrying the actual rings!)

I am thankful...that I have not been sick for the entire winter.

In the kitchen... on the table, is a bouquet of flowers I bought myself for my son's 25th birthday. After all, if it weren't for mothers, how would children be born??

I am wearing...a plum-colored cotton V-neck tee from Lands' End.  So comfy I ordered two more--one in white, one in royal blue, and I wear all three QUITE a bit. I also am wearing some black pants and red indoor/outdoor slippers.

I am creating... a new craft/guest room, and having so much fun.

I am going...to show you the shields that my art class created for the school play. The director "commissioned" us to produce eight shields, each to fit a 20x20" space, with heraldry, Maryland colors, our school logo, a likeness of our county's seal, and a cross/tree combination. Here's how they turned out. Sorry for the poor  photo quality. I couldn't get a good angle, didn't have the right setting, and was surrounded by a crowd.  I created one of the shields. See if you can guess which.

 

I am wondering...if a heel spur is what I have. Terrible pain in my left heel and it's been like that for going on two months or more. I've kept thinking it would get better, but it's gotten worse. It affects my gait, my posture, my productivity, and my mood. I think it's time to see a podiatrist and hope he doesn't tell me bad news.

  

I am reading... a few different books:  Power Thoughts, by Joyce Meyer; Followed, by Elaine Dauber Thornton,  Simple Secrets of a Beautiful Home, by Emilie Barnes.

I am hoping...that April is as warm as March has been cold.

I am looking forward to... the "seaside ladies' retreat" in early May.  It's been many years since I've been on a retreat, and my soul is thirsty for a spiritual lift, fellowshiping with other women
(I only know a few from the church we've been attending since Christmas).  And I can't think of a better place than on the Chesapeake Bay.

I am learning...that letting go of children as adults is its own kind of labor pain. 

Around the house... is much less clutter, thanks to my giving up "stuff" for Lent. Feels good!

I am pondering...getting involved with a particular "homeless" ministry of sorts. It's called Samaritan Women and is a home for young women, a beautifully restored Victorian mansion on 23 acres. The women,  who have been rescued from sex trafficking, suffering from PTSD from combat, or physical abuse, find hope and healing at this Christian farm. They are also taught to grow their own food, as well as how to prepare nutritious meals from it.   This place has all sorts of needs and ways to offer help. I would like to volunteer to teach a six-week, once-a-week art class. Creating beauty is a big part of the healing process.

A favorite quote for today...

Acts 4:12 Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved."  (NIV)

One of my favorite things... is finding notes like this, written by my 11-year-old boy.

A few plans for the rest of the week:

 -Monday : wash mountains of laundry, finish an mixed-media art project, build a snowman snowbunny?
-Tuesday : attend Passover seder  (anyone got a good recipe for a carrot dish--no leaven, not a dessert?)
-Wednesday:  teach a class
- Thursday : work on my craft room
-Friday: attend a Good Friday service


A peek into my day...  for lunch we ordered the second thing from the top on the right of this menu. My daughter likes to call them Hoochie Mamas. 

A Sandy Cove Memory

One of my dear friends is Marilyn. Her husband ( a wonderful pastor) threw a birthday party yesterday in her honor. In guy terms, that means he waited till Thursday to make some phone calls send a mass email and say he was putting together a little dinner with a few of her closest friends.

I wanted to take her a special gift, something from my heart, so I thought I'd paint something.  I thought of a fruit still life with her favorite grapes, watermelon and 'lopes, plus adding a scripture, but that fell short of inspiring me.   I thought of doing a Zambezi River scene  since she loves the deep colors of her African heritage.  But the photo of the river did nothing but make me say, "Oh, that's pretty."  It wasn't like she'd been there or talked of the Zambezi River.  However, the photo I found did lead me to want to paint a seascape for her, and the first thing I thought of was  Sandy Cove.  It's a Christian camp/ retreat center on the headwaters of the Chesapeake Bay where she and I went for an impromptu prayer retreat overnight a few years ago.  Marilyn is the "prayingest" woman I know.  A true intercessor. 

She is also in great shape, being a runner and loving the track and field events (and still competing at her age!).  So our prayer retreat of course included her idea of relaxing before midnight prayer: a 10-minute "burn session."  (This was not something she had discussed when were planning our getaway. She's a wise woman.) Picture doing a cardio workout in a hotel room with an Olympic trainer when you're really thinking some decaf coffee and a donut would be a good segue into the throne room of heaven. Marilyn took out a stretchy rope with handles and made me step on it and stretch muscles in my arms. Muscles I didn't have before I got to Sandy Cove.  She made me do knee lifts to my chin, which is all of seven inches. She made me run sprints in our hotel room, back and forth from window to door. I'm sure the people below were asking for their 99 bucks back. Actually, there was no "below." We were on the first floor, at sea level, with a beautiful view.  But someone, somewhere, must've been saying, "I feel the earth movin' under my feet."

When that was over, we caught our breath, got our showers, and resumed prayer. Marilyn kept moving; she paces when she prays. I, on the other hand, didn't want to make God nervous, so I sat on the foot of the bed. We prayed about everything we could think of, starting with me being able to walk the next day. Mercy! We prayed about everything from children to church to marriage to spiritual gifts to the purchase of a home for her family.  We cried. We laughed. We took potty breaks because we're women of a certain age.  We prayed some more, and then, at last, around 1:15 a.m., we finally fell asleep.

The next morning we slept till past the breakfast service so decided impromptu to fast till lunch.  (Not  a spiritual decision, mind you. Our choices were vending machine and McDonald's.)   We went outside to find a quiet place to sit and talk and pray while watching sailboats on the water and hear gulls overhead.  There was a lone, shiny green bench at the crest of a knoll just a few feet above the tiny beach, somewhat under a shade tree. The leaves were full and green, the grass was green, the water was blue-grey, and the sky at midmorning was yellow and pink.  We agreed to pray with our eyes open because it was just too magnificent a view to pray with closed eyes. God would hear us either way

Fast forward to Saturday night. I drew a quick sketch of the scene I best remembered--that of the morning view of  the bay at Sandy Cove from the bench.  (If you open the photo you'll see an aerial view of the campus. Look at the cluster of trees near the main walkway toward the water. Under one of those sprawling oak trees is a green bench where Marilyn and I sat for morning prayer.) 

Then I painted the scene with acrylics (Grumbacher brand). The only artistic license I took was to change the bench from green to red. A green bench under a green tree on green grass would not have drawn the eye in nearly as much. I learned from a seascape painter in Maine that he often puts red doors on seaside cottages in his paintings for that reason. Gathering tips from pros hither and yon has become a hobby all its own.  Gotta love getting knowledge for free.

Another tip I read Saturday was to combine all the colors from the painting into the sand--tiny hints of blue, green, grey, yellow, brown, orange, whatever. It's so subtle amidst the dominant sand color, but doing this trick brings all the colors together in the foreground.  The eye perceives a unified painting. 

Yet another painting tip is to ask for critique from a 10-year-old artist who happens to be your son. I asked,"Tell me what time of day this scene is."

He first said, "6 a.m." 
I told him it was supposed to be 9 or 10  a.m. 
He said, "Easy, then. Add more yellow." 
I did, and asked him 10 minutes later, "So...what time is it now?" 
He  said, "Turn around and look at the clock."
" No, no, smarty pants, what time is it in the painting?"
 "Oh....about 9:47."

Little squirt.

Now, you're probably wondering Marilyn's reaction to her birthday painting from me.  I was really hoping she'd instantly recognize the scene. If not, I'd never paint for another person again.

She opened my painting and said, "Hey! You know what this reminds me of?  Our prayer retreat at Sandy Cove! Remember? Just you and me? That was such a great memory!"

Aah. Satisfaction.

But guess what? When you paint until midnight, your brain gets foggy.  I forgot to take a picture of
the painting I titled "A Sandy Cove Memory."   Nonetheless, I won't soon forget the power of prayer, friendship, and stretchy ropes applied to flabby arm muscles.

D is for Diana

I wish I had a picture of Diana. Indeed, I wish I could remember exactly what she looked like, but the more I think upon this theme of legacy , which I've devoted my A-Z April Challenge to, the more I realize the truth that our bodies are but shells of our souls. A person's legacy is not physical at all, like an inheritance of cash, real estate, or jewelry is physical or tangible, and therefore a photo is but a thin and fleeting reminder of one who left us a legacy.

As my pastor said (and I don't know where the quote originated), "A legacy is not something you leave to someone, but something you leave in someone."

Diana left a legacy of vision in me. Her philosophy, her vision, was that every child, every person, is an artist to some degree, and that by being taught and practicing, everyone can improve in their artistry. At the time she said it, I was dubious. For twenty-some years, it was entrenched in my being that only some people are artists and the rest of us were destined to be jealous onlookers, wannabes, or--at best-- simple readers of art history. That sort of inculcation was hard to overcome, but Diana began to envision me with a seed of artistic passion that would take years to germinate. And a few more years to bear fruit.

I was part of a homeschool co-op in the 1990s when I first met Diana. Normally a co-op consists of parents who exchange their teaching expertise in a group of many families. This co-op chose science, geography, and art. One of the moms taught science, and I taught a geography station (cuisine). Diana, however, had no children in the co-op. She had grown kids and was teaching there of her own volition.

Her passion was art, and she had been an elementary art teacher in both public and private schools. I doubt we paid her because we were all struggling financially. Yet she faithfully came to co-op every Thursday morning at 9:00, smelling of cigarette smoke, heavy perfume that filled the whole church in a good way, and coffee breath covered with mints. Every finger of hers wore a ring of sentimental value, and every fingernail was perfectly manicured and painted a bold color. To me, those were an artist's hands! Her hands were a canvas, as was her hair, face, and body. Diana had flair. Spunk. Pizazz. She made it fun for me to see how she'd be dressed every Thursday. Never dull. Always a vision, or at least an attraction.

She loved children and was passionate and gifted at helping them learn not only skills, but how to associate artists with their great works. I hadn't heard of Raphael until college, and couldn't have told you then what he was remembered for, but Diana taught kindergarteners that he was best known for his angels. My Sarah can still get than factoid correct when she plays a game of Masterpiece. Moms of kindergarteners, who sat on the mat and listened during our free time, also learned that Raphael and angels go together. Diana would have them march around, flapping their arms like wings, and chant "We're Raphael's angels. We're Raphael's Renaissance angels!"

She showed them books and told them stories about Raphael, the great Renaissance painter, as if she had just hung out with him at a family reunion over the weekend. (One child, bless her heart, raised her hand and asked, "Miss Diana, do you KNOW Raphael?")

Then Diana would set big, thick sheets of paper in front of them (on large--very large--dropcloths) and hand them brushes. They would "go to town" painting angels, or some of them painting whatever their minds drifted to, which was okay. Diana always encouraged their creativity and praised their efforts.

I remember that she had the gumption to take a bunch of little homeschooling families (or in some cases, BIG families of 8 or 9 kids--I kid you not--) to the National Gallery of Art in Washington ,DC. I sat on the bus right behind her because I enjoyed her company richly and wanted to "pick her brain" about my children's capabilities.

"How do you spot a true artist when they're young, Diana? I mean, are there signs that perhaps a child is really gifted instead of just able?"

Diana thought carefully and nodded, adding her signature "whenever" instead of "when" (a western-Pennsylvania and southern grammatical error).

She said, "Yes. Look to see whenever they close a circle. That's one sign. If they close it, they are aware of shape, they pay attention to detail, and they might have patience. "

Of course I remember this advice whenever I am observing the youngest kids at school or church.
I always have my eyes open whenever I hand them a pencil or crayon. You just never know whenever a God-given artist will walk into your life wearing a Pull-up. Whenever.

Diana's physical presence in my kids' education lasted only two years and they barely remember her except for her heavy perfume, heavy breathing, and heavy encouragement. But I remember her for having not just vision for her own art and her students' art, but for leaving a legacy of vision in me that has encouraged me to do the work of an artist and art teacher with as much enthusiasm as she had.

Delphic Sibyl

A few weeks ago I taught a bit about Renaissance art. Michelangelo's painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel was a main focus since we had to move along at quite a clip to keep up with their fast-paced history studies. Among the many figures the artist painted were several Delphic sibyls (Greek prophetesses). The students were to draw this particular one, and I modeled it.

Now, folks, please know, I am not a trained artist and have never had an art lesson per se, so this drawing leaves MUCH to be desired. I do not claim to have talent, only desire and determination to become better. I would really appreciate critiques from those of you who are much farther along the road in drawing. Please give me some pointers for improvements.

I am embarrassed about her lips. Try as I may, I couldn't erase that extra shading in the middle, so it looks like she has a duet of cold sores. Poor gal. I also know that several other things are not quite right, such as her eyes, nose, cheeks, and arms. Goodness, it looks like she swallowed canteloupes that got stuck in her biceps.

Please, fellow artists, help me out. If Michelangelo were ever to get a look-see at this, I'm sure he'd roll over in his sarcophagus.

Illuminated Manuscript

Also known as the illuminated text, this art form was popular between 400 and 600 AD in the Roman Empire. Painted on vellum, the most common examples featured a single large initial letter, sometimes two-thirds the height of the paper or stone canvas. Borders were ornate and often repetitious. The illustrations of the text helped the common illiterate peasants to get the gist of the words by simply looking at the pictures.

For this assignment, I gave the students a week to find a Bible verse to depict. The instructions:

1. It should be a fairly short verse for the size paper we were using.
2. The initial letter must be quite large.
3. The illustration should "illuminate" the text by showing what the verse is about.
4. They had to have a repeating border, and could free-hand it or use either the roller kind of rubber stamp or repeating a single stamp all the way around.
5. The entire paper had to be filled with color. No "vellum" showing. (We used lightweight, pale yellow paper.)
6. They were to use a mix of crayon and marker.
7. The font should be fancy.
8. Complete the assignment in one class period.

The students love this project (especially the rubber stamps) and I was really pleased with the finished projects. I particularly like the way the student illustrated the verse "Jesus wept." If you look closely, you'll see that it shows teardrops falling from the top of the J, and the bottom part of the J is a pool of tears. Week after week I stand in awe of the creativity in children. I love my job!

Egg Yolk Paintings

My fifth and sixth graders have
been studying the Byzantine period
in their history class, so I came up with
an art project to go along with it.

We talked about artists working with what is available to them at the time.
Paint has not always been readily available, but every culture has found a way to paint with natural ingredients.

Paint has to have three things: a solvent, a pigment, and a binder. In this case, our solvent is water, the pigment is food coloring, and the egg yolk is the binder.

("Recipe" per color is 1 egg yolk, 1-2 drops of food coloring, and 1 tsp of water per color.) I happened to have neon food coloring available which the kids thought was cool. The paper was fingerpaint paper.

The egg yolk dries fast, so this painting has to be worked quickly. It took two class periods (about 80 minutes of actual hands-on time).


The three main subjects depicted in Byzantine art were the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and saints. The backgrounds often featured gold halo-like effects and movement with color,the people were shown with big eyes, and their attire was vivid, sometimes adorned with jewels.

For this assignment, I told the students their subject would be Mary, she had to have a gold halo effect around her hair, they had to use a sunburst border, and Mary should have big eyes. (I added the note about big eyes in my lecture while they were working, and unfortunately one artist had already painted closed eyes. I didn't take points off because it was my fault.) One kid was allergic to egg, so I allowed him to use chalk pastel (the one with the wide open mouth is chalk pastel). I'm not sure where my other four students' work is. I thought I photographed them all.

At any rate, this project is one I would gladly do again. One thing we learned was that farm-fresh eggs (as in less than a few days old) create richer pigments than storebought eggs. The consistency is thicker and it holds food coloring brilliantly.

Happy, Scrappy, Magic Paper Clip Wreath under $4

I made a fresh wreath this year, determined to be super frugal about the decorations. Besides, the fragrance when opening the front door is wonderful.

To make this wreath, I used only what I had on hand: greens cut off the bottom of the Christmas tree, a cranberry garland, some sassy ribbon, a silk bird, a floral foam disc from the dollar store, and a magic paper clip. Okay, so it's not magic, but with sleight of hand, it disappears behind the greens.

I started with the tree. There were plenty of branches along the bottom of the tree that needed to be cut off to make the tree more shapely. Or, as my nine-year-old son says, "to make room for big presents."






I selected greens both long and short and alternated them, sticking them into the middle of the side of the foam.













The magic paper clip helps the bird stay put. I secured it to his little feet, pushed the sharp ends into the foam, and placed the bow on top to hide the clip. The bird didn't appreciate being a fettered friend. I think I heard him plead, "Don't clip my wings, too!"

































Voila!

Here's the finished wreath, and here's the cost breakdown.

Greens: free, with the purchase of a fresh-cut tree. Or free if you can find them, no purchase necessary.

Ribbon: about $1
Bird: $.79
Foam disc: $.50
Cranberry garland: $1.50 ?
Magic paper clip: $.04

Total: $3.83. Merry Christmas.

50th WAP: Making Picture Boards

If memory serves me, my wisdom took a flying leap out of a high tower the day I agreed to take on the visual display portion of the party.








My sister Rachel actually did the lion's (lioness's?) share of making collages from pictures the other three girls sent her. She took advantage of Walgreen's online photo software and did a great job. (Those shots later.) Meanwhile I said, "Sure, I can handle making the background boards for them. A little spray paint and something to connect the things and a way to make them remain in an upright and locked position -- that should all be fairly simple."

The operative word there? "Should." Who are we kidding? And the word "fairly" is being used loosely in this context. Very loosely.

Actually it would have been easy had I stuck with Plan A to spray paint the boards. But I wasn't happy with the color I chose after all--thought it would look blah to have just a solid backdrop. My motto: Why be simple when you can be complicated? Put another way, Why stay sane when you can go lulu instead? Life is too short not to live on edge, right? It's the way I roll, which explains a lot. It's why they invented Zoloft, for when "Zo's a little off."

Anyway, I decided I really wanted to use the Faith paper collection from Hobby Lobby since we'd already bought it a ton of it. Like 160 pages of it! I figured I'd make a patchwork quilt of sorts for each board.

Choosing the paper arrangements was easy. Gluing them in place was easy.
But getting the edges cut clean with a razor knife ? Not so much.

The time consuming part is always the fussing. It seems I double my time on task when I start the fussing part.


Every job needs a supervisor. My dog volunteered. It was the least he could do. And the most. Part of his job description (which I did not write) was "keep thwacking your tail into those lightweight foam boards all afternoon, but stop just short of getting hauled back to the humane society. And charm her with your good looks when you're on the brink of impoundment."

As you can see, the tools of my trade include a "Mod"est amount of ModPodge. I love that stuff. It seals and glues and shines in one swell foop! And at times, it gave me the lift I was needing when boredom set in. Just kidding.


Thirteen and a half hours later (the boards are two-sided, if I failed to mention that little factoid) I came to the stopping point. The more time wore on, the more I wore out.

Yet I enjoyed the fussing and dreaming of how they'd turn out when all was said and done.

Finished product will be shown later. I promise.

Job Offer

Much has transpired since Thursday of last week. I got a call from the principal of my youngest child's new school. (The school is brand new, opening in just over two weeks! It's a Christian school we are really excited about.) Before you start thinking it's bad news to get a call from the principal's office before the first day of school, let me explain. It's not about my child.

The principal offered "good news and not-so-good news." The good news is, I can teach any art class(es) I want from 1st-8th grade. The not-s0-good news is that they can't afford to pay me yet. Funds are too tight, but when the funds become available, I would get first crack at the paid position. She asked me to think and pray about it, talk it over with my husband; I agreed and said in the interest of time, I'd let her know Monday (today), knowing that we'd need to get the proverbial ball rolling with plans. I was so excited just thinking about teaching again!

My husband said it's okay with him, provided I don't spend "an inordinate amount of time preparing" every week. He knows my tendency to throw myself headlong into things I love but which don't pay a cent! At this point, I need to earn some common cents to help pay the tuition (still have two kids in college as well).

I am drawn to grades 4 through 6, since that's where my art and history experience lies. As for content, I am more drawn to what's being taught in 7th and 8th (survey of American history).In teaching the classical model, my lessons will correspond to the students' history classes. As for being able to familiarize myself with my son's class, I could teach 4th. But the boy said, "Nah, that'd be too much like homeschool." Hmph.

If you're the praying kind reading this, would you mind giving me feedback? I am gleaning wisdom , insight, and prayer from every source possible.

The other job possibility I've looked into is doing non-medical, in-home senior care. I've always loved spending time with the elderly. Last night I submitted an application and cover letter to a local company offering jobs like this. In my letter, I described the ideal job for me: doing art at home with seniors! Nothing like being specific, huh? Hey, at my age, I have pretty much figured out who I am, what I enjoy, what I have to offer, and what I stink at. I don't have to bring in big bucks, just consistent ones with a good attitude. I probably don't have enough years left in me to waste on joyless pursuits.

That's the microcosmic news from Lake Zobegone.

Welcome from a Hummingbird

Finally! I completed one of my art projects, the Welcome sign that I've had for--oh, goodness--at least five years.

It was all white. Now only the bird's belly is white, and that by God's design.

I painted this plaster piece with acrylics and coated it with ModPodge to seal and shine it.

This ruby-throated hummingbird caught my eye and so I copied him from an issue of Birds & Blooms. I chose purple to color those flowers, which I think are violets, but even if not, I am partial to purple, and so purple it is.

To get the depth of color contrast, paint the dark purple first and then add lilac highlights. The green leaves are mixed from blue and yellow, starting with the deepest saturation of blue first. I just love playing around with color. Acrylic paints are mighty forgiving--my #1 criterion for any art supply.

Most artists probably could have whipped this out in 90 minutes, but I'm slower and fuss a lot just when I think it's finished. So this one took me almost three hours. And I'm happy with it.

Images from the Co-op Art Gallery, Grades 4-6

I just love children's art. I also love being an art teacher. I have taught for four years now, and each year gets better and better. This past year I taught grades 4-6 in our homeschool co-op.
Our end-of-year Presentation Night features art, science, and music.

I had 22 students, and allowed each to put up six projects plus their name "placard" done as a lesson in positive and negative space.

For the backdrop (since I've been craving color all winter!) I took two large rolls of colored bulletin board paper, one bright green, one cobalt blue.











My adult helper assisted me in putting up the 4th graders' art. Masking tape loops work; Scotch does not. We found it easier to put up the backdrop paper first, using poster tack. It took two hours for two of us to hang nine students' work. Good thing we hung it up two days in advance!

(These are notes to self, mostly, for future reference.)

The 5th and 6th graders taped up their own work. We finished in about 40 minutes, with 20 minutes left over for a party!

A major advantage to the backdrop paper hung in "strips" is that, at the end of the evening, each student can take down the whole strip, and carry home all their art as a unit.

This year we studied Monet, Van Gogh, Seurat, Homer, and Picasso in the first half of the year.

The second half consisted of various random art forms using a variety of media. Our longest project was the Mother's Day tray. (Separate how-to post in the future.) I used the gift bags from the Mothers' Day bags on the floor for added "pops" of color.

On the first day of class, we created portfolios to keep our art stored together at co-op. These are simple to make, although I would advise using only white posterboard, since it's hard to read names written on other colors..

This year also included some "academic" work because for many of the lessons, I began with a 10-minute "lecture" in art history and appreciation with biographical info on the painters we were studying. The students had to take notes. They had multiple choice, essay, and drawing on their test. They all got A's. I was one happy teacher.

We used oil pastels, chalk pastels, watercolor, and acrylics.
We drew with pencils. We made collages. We used clay one week for fun but didn't make a finished product.

These were the fastest 24 weeks ever. That's what happens when you love what you do and the people you get to share your love with.

Squirrel Drawing

by Joel, age 8.

Which Came First, the Chicken or the Angel?

Lately I've been itching to try every new art medium that tickles my fancy. It doesn't take much of an excuse to be "inspired." Today I was reading to my eight-year-old son, my one and only home school student in the family these days. I was reading from Revelation. That book is chock full of images that are delightful to ponder--and to paint.

So I read a particular verse and told Joel that he and I would use my new acrylic paints to make pictures of the angel in this verse. The vocabulary is quite simple, but the image it evokes is grand.

Then I saw another mighty angel coming down from heaven. He was robed in a cloud, with a rainbow above his head; his face was like the sun, and his legs were like fiery pillars. Rev 10:1

I had hoped my rendering would somehow match the scripture in grandeur.

Excited, I set out paper bags, brushes, water, napkins, and the brand new acrylics.
This would be so good. I was embarking on a new joy: painting the scriptures.

Starting with
an angel
robed in a cloud,
rainbow over his head,
fiery pillars for legs
and a face like the sun.


How colorful! How vibrant.



How pathetic.

Just LOOK at this. Take a good look at my "angel."





Joel took one glance at it and laughed. "Mom! That looks like a little chick being born and saying, "Where am I?'"

I busted out laughing, too. A chicken! That's exactly what it looks like. I decided to paint a singing mouth on him. I could barely hold the brush still, I was laughing so hard.

Stephen came along and added his jokes. Said this hatchling appears to be looking in the mirror, shocked and bewildered. (In Steve's best animated Minnesotan chicky voice): "Nobody TOLD me I'd come out with a RAINbow on my head. This is kinda....kinda....weird!"

I was DYing!

Oh, the humble pie I eat around here.

And then--check this out--I had the nerve to offer Joel some constructive criticism for his painting.



"Why don't you make the legs longer, honey? Pillars are big columns."

To which he said, "Nah. At least mine looks like more like an angel than a chicken."

(Which is true. A parachuting angel with no neck and a unibrow, but an angel no less.)

How A Guy Wraps A Wedding Gift

You, the guy, pick from what's left of the couple's gift registry at the last possible moment. You think a wine rack is a cool gift, and it is. But your mom suggests putting three wine bottles with it so that it's "substantial."

You go buy the wine: a champagne, a red, and a white. You come home and box everything up.

Seal the box and ask Mom if you have to wrap it since it's for a guy. Mom says, "Yes, you have to wrap it. That guy will have a wife by the time he opens it."

You nicely ask Mom if she will wrap it and she says, "No, but I'll tell you where some paper is. You've got wrapping skills." You may have them, but you don't necessarily want to use them, at least not without eating first.




You wrap it in lime green paper from your sister's treasure trove of paper. Your mom is pretty proud of you, and so she whips out her camera. You shake your head and smirk. She is trying to keep things light so that she doesn't cry. She really wonders where time went that her son is now all grown up and buying wedding presents for his good friends' weddings and ushering their guests down the aisle. She is secretly glad she is not the mother of the groom yet.






Mom asks you if you'd like to put a bow on the gift and you say, "Nah, it's fine." And she says, "Do you think it's kind of plain?" And, being a guy, you repeat, "Nah, it's fine. But if you think it needs a bow, go ahead."

So she, being not a guy, but your mother who can't let a gift go unbowed, proceeds to make a "bow" out of a wine bottle opener. She says, "It's extra fun when your gift topper sort of hints at what's inside the box." And you humor her and say, "Yeh. Whatever."



Then you see her get out scrapbook paper, scissors, skinny ribbon, and stickers to make hang tags for the bride and groom's gift.

Experience tells you that now is your perfect opportunity to slip out of the room while Mom gets absorbed in her own little world; you have plenty of time to make early Fantasy Football draft picks.



In the back of your mind, though , you're fairly certain that *your* wrapped gift will show up on *her* blog.