Looking back at a very young self

Doctor's orders: stay off feet as much as possible while broken foot heals.  So I got out some boxes of old papers and photos I've been meaning to go through for ages.  Kind of amazed to find my old report cards from elementary school.  They tell an interesting story.  Here are a few from first and second grade: 

First grade, second half: 

Second grade, first half:

This was the situation: We lived in a small town in southern Oregon.  My brothers and friends and I were outside all the time from the time school let out until supper and then often until bath and bedtime.  Weekends my family spent on my grandparents farm on a dead end road in the hills at the edge of the valley with our extended family (we were related to most of the people on last segment of the road).  Cousins ran loose in the fields and woods in between meals and other interesting family events.  I got PLENTY of fresh air and exercise.  And with that many people around, plenty of socializing.

I was excited about school. I already knew how to read and make letters and do simple arithmetic.  I was bored (believe me, Dick and Jane was even dumber and more boring than you've been told).   I was entranced by learning, and lusted for the interesting books for older kids I found in the classroom.  I seized every chance I could to read them (and get some quiet time, which was hard for me to come by).  

I think a lot of teachers don't actually think about what is going on, and don't bother to ask the questions that would illuminate a child's experience.  There were rules, and rules must be followed.  Especially in the America of 1950.  (Think about that next time you wonder why the 60s happened.) 

At least my first grade teacher recognized my leanings toward creativity.  But she is also the one who told my mother she should not have taught me my letters, because they no longer used that method to teach reading.  My ploy was to ignore what the teacher was doing and just read ahead on my own, and do arithmetic the way my dad taught me.  Hence the "stubbornness", which has stood me in good stead all my life. 

Now the last half of second grade:

Learning to fit in, though there was still criticism (one of them was that I often didn't color inside the lines of the mimeographed "art" projects, or use the "right" colors!).  By third grade, I asked my parents how old I had to be to leave school.  I was serious.  I was bored stiff.  I wanted out. 

In fourth grade, my parents moved to a different town, and I started a new school, with an enriched program for kids like me, including real instruction in art and science. I was off and running.  I felt challenged and stimulated, and began loving school again. 

And eventually became both the scientist and the artist that child was trying to be.

Quartet

acrylic on cradled birch panels

each 6 x 6 inches

My art supplier had some acrylic inks on sale that I'd been wanting to give a try.  So I ordered a few bottles. Ok, I ordered 12 of them.  I played with them for a while on paper, and then decided to give an idea I had for a set on cradled wood panels a go, combining the inks with fluid acrylics.  Some things didn't work out as planned (do they ever?), and some things I ended up having to redo or rethink.  But overall I am pleased with this fun set of little paintings.  I have them placed in a gift shop.  Think I'll do more.  I had fun with these. 

Cloudburst

I decided I like the painting below just as it is, and changed the name of it to "Cloudburst". I'll put it in a white frame for an upcoming show in June at the Chaffee Art Center in Rutland, VT.

Spring Rain (working title)

acrylic on stretched canvas with inclusions

20 x 24 inches

I laid out this painting with my left hand, and am switching hands as I work.  As it took shape, I found myself liking the somewhat unfinished look.  Perhaps because rainy, misty spring days themselves have that look. 

I was going to use white paint to give some bright spots, but happened to have some foil laying about. So I experimented on some small practice pieces to see how that might work.  I liked the look, and tentatively set some foil torn to shape on this one. This photo does not do justice to the way the foil works with the shapes and the bits of red in the composition, especially in room level light.  I like it.   

I am nearly finished with it now, and have set it aside with an isolating coat to protect it. In a few days or a week, I'll make a decision about whether to work more on it, or simply leave it be.

Taking Refuge

textured acrylic on stretched canvas

16 x 20 inches

As I suspected, "Watching the Wind" was not yet complete.  It did not tell the whole story.  Over the last few weeks, a bit at a time, I modified the existing layers a little, added a layer, and worked in the details that held the story. 

This was January 2, 2010, and at dawn that day, as the filtered light gradually illuminated the storm raging around us, I and perhaps 8 or 10 others formally took the Five Mindfulness Trainings as laypeople in the Buddhist Order of InterBeing.  Part of the ceremony is called "Taking Refuge".  The Refuges being referred to are the Buddha (awareness), the Dharma (the teachings), and the Sangha (the community).  And that day there was the literal refuge from the storm within the hall.  So our large meditation hall held many meanings. 

It was a beautiful ceremony, and the immensity of the storm enhanced the meaning for all of us. It was wondrous, and I hope this painting conveys that feeling.

Summer Remnants, reworked

acrylic on stretched canvas

20 x24 inches

I liked this piece as it was (see it here), but it lacked luster and dimension in all but the brightest light.  So over a period of several weeks, I reworked it until it held its own in ordinary indoor light.  Now I have the strongest urge to add a little mouse tail near the bottom.  I've resisted that urge so far.  But no guarantees.  I still might.

Here's a detail: