Inspired to Paint

I have been dabbling in the fine arts of drawing and painting for as long as I can remember.  I am mostly self-taught, aside from two art classes that I took in college (but honestly didn't much enjoy, because the professor was a huge fan of modern art—which is not really my cup of tea.  At all!).  So my work is not professional quality by any stretch of the imagination.  But I have a compulsion to draw and paint and these hobbies have given me an inestimable amount of joy throughout my life. 

In 2020, I was suddenly inspired—by a prayer, actually—to try to paint the face of Jesus.  I blogged about that painting awhile back, and included the prayer that inspired it, in a post called “Tears Become Pearls.”  

I was happy every minute that I worked on that painting, feeling very close to Jesus the whole time, and the hours flew. The first "finished" painting looked like this.

It was so finished that it was even hanging in our house...But after a while, the facial hair started to look wrong to me. I began to wonder why I hadn't connected the mustache to the beard.  I also wished I'd made Jesus' halo larger and lower down, closer to his shoulders (my husband admitted that he thought it might look better that way).

The facial hair was an easy fix.  But I didn't want to mess too much with the halo, since it had been a long time since I'd worked on the painting, and I was afraid I’d have to totally redo the background if I couldn’t match the original colors; so I opted to keep it where it was and just enlarge the circle. 

Better?  (You don’t need to answer that!)

Recently, I started to think about painting a companion for this portrait of Jesus.  His beautiful Mother, Mary, seemed like the perfect choice.

I wasn't sure how I wanted my Mary to look; but I didn't want to peruse all the famous images of Her, because I was afraid I'd just try to imitate them.  Then while scrolling through my phone’s camera roll, I came across this photo of me holding my granddaughter Hermanita, when she was in the PICU battling RSV back in December of 2019.  (The mask and gloves were RSV visitor protocol, not Covid-related!!) On a whim, I decided to use that photo to do the general sketch of Madonna and Child, and then I just went from there.

Day one, this is how it was looking.

And about a week later, this was the finished portrait.

Of course, I thought that painting of Jesus was finished, and then more than a year later I tweaked it.  This painting may get a little belated TLC, too, I guess.  But I have found over the years that if I try too hard to make something "perfect," I sometimes overwork it and ruin it altogether.  So for now, I'm going to leave well enough alone.

When I wrote Finding Grace and Erin's Ring, I was inspired to tell stories that would positively reflect our beautiful Catholic Faith, fight the dangerous messages the world was sending to vulnerable young readers, and bring glory to God.  I think any time we use our talents and gifts in this life, in every single endeavor we undertake, that should be the ultimate goal: giving glory to God, from Whom all blessings flow.  Forget money; forget worldly successes and accolades: they mean nothing.  I should have been using whatever artistic talents God gave me to do the same when it came to painting.  I don't know why it took me until I was in my 60's to finally become inspired to paint holy images, but better late than never, I suppose.

I am often brought to tears because of the state of our world, and I'm sure I don't have to elaborate about what I mean by that.  You know just what I'm talking about, if you've been alive the past two years.  And it seems as if things just keep getting worse.  I can become consumed by fear for what the future will bring for my kids and grandkids.  But creating these images of these beloved faces helped me to remember Who is really in charge and therefore, how pointless worrying is.  He's got this.  We just have to have faith that He knows what's best for our souls.  We need to pray unceasingly and take comfort in the fact that God loves us even more than we love our own children.  Hard to imagine, but true.

I will not find paradise in this life, even though I have been inordinately blessed.  But being surrounded by comforting holy images helps me to imagine what it will be like if I get there.  And creating them is a balm for my soul.

(I haven't blogged in more than a month!  Yikes, time flies these days--and so much has happened while I've been away.  I plan to do a catch-up post sometime this week.  Also, thank you to the wonderful readers who've left comments on my last few posts.  I have not gotten around to replying to all of them, and I hope to do a bit of catching up there, too!)

A Homemade Christmas: St. Nicks for Everyone!

This year, my husband and I joined forces in Santa's workshop to create large wooden St. Nicholas figurines—five of them, one for each of our sons and their wives—for Christmas.  We had made one for us a few years ago and the kids said they'd like to have similar ones for their own houses.  

The first year we had ours, it towered over our little grandson Simba.

Nothing could make me happier than having a project like this to work on!  I absolutely love making gifts; to me, it's so much more fun than shopping for them.

My favorite carpenter bought some pine boards, 1-inch thick and 10-inches wide.  I sketched the basic shape for him and he cut out five of them with his table saw and sanded them for me.

I changed my mind and had my husband ignore the feet, for simplicity's sake, 
and just have the gown/coat go to the ground.

Then I set out to paint them. 

As I was working on them throughout November, I realized that totally by accident, the first two faces I finished sort of resembled two of our sons.  (I mean, not exactly; but sort of.) So then I set out to make each son's St. Nick look a little bit like he does.  I made the coats and other details slightly different, depending on each son's personality and interests, so that they would be five be one-of-a-kind St. Nicks. I also added pearl accents and glued a couple of coins on the bases (you know, because St. Nick is supposed to bring coins and leave them in the shoes).  I tried to find coins that were stamped with years—or in some cases, foreign countries—that are significant in our boys' lives.

My hubby's carpenter skills were key; he is the one who got the St. Nicks securely screwed onto their bases, and then made triangular braces to go behind them, so that they would stand safely upright.  (So often, not just when he's woodworking, he reminds me of St. Joseph!)

By Thanksgiving, I was ALMOST done with this project, because I wanted to give son #5 his St. Nick while he was visiting us.  But he and his wife decided that since they're currently living in a small apartment, they will wait to take theirs home with them until they have a more permanent living situation and more room. 

I finally finished them all up in time to give them out to the four oldest boys who live nearby during this last week of Advent.  Here they are, all lined up (in order, from oldest to youngest son, L to R):

The ones we made for our kids are shorter and narrower than the one we made for ourselves, for two reasons: we forgot to measure ours before we went to Lowe's to buy the wood and didn't think the board we'd used was as wide as it was (12-inches); and actually, the wider boards were a good bit more expensive anyway.  Plus, I thought the new model, which is about three feet high, was a good size: big enough to make a statement, but not TOO big. 

Okay, looking at that last photo makes me realize that ours is kind of huge.  Yikes, I hadn't really appreciated how big it was until we put it next to the others!  As one of our granddaughters said, it's like our St. Nick is the daddy and those are his five sons.  I love that.  That's how I'm going to think of ours from now on.

Our boys and their families appear to be pleased with these homemade Christmas gifts.  Here are son #2's four little guys giving their St. Nick some love.

May we all have the pure and innocent joy of small children in our hearts this Christmas!  And St. Nicholas, pray for us!

Life Imitates Art

In October of 1979, I did a  9x12” acrylic painting on canvas board, and that Christmas I gave it to my future in-laws as a gift.  (This painting was created with less technical ability than love...but there was lots of love involved.)  The piece was inspired by the view of Lake Champlain from the back yard of their New York house, with the outline of the Green Mountains of Vermont visible in the distance.  I had spent so much time, during the previous six years that I was dating their son, enjoying this view from their lovely lakeside home, and I painted it from memory. The little girl standing by the fence was meant to represent my then-boyfriend's three younger sisters, whom I had grown to love dearly.

Fast-forward 42 years (gulp! 42 years!!).  And I found that life was definitely imitating art.

You see, I married that boy who lived by the lake.  And we had five sons, who grew up and got married and have so far produced 17 grandchildren for us to cherish. Five of these grandchildren, the offspring of our oldest son, were visiting us with their parents for a week starting at the end of August—staying with us at their Papa’s childhood home, which has become our summer residence.  (Thankfully, this amazing house has stayed in the family, even though my beloved in-laws are no longer with us).

I snapped this picture of our boy’s girls (twins aged 10, along with their younger sisters, 8 and 6) the night they arrived, when they ran out to look at the lake they hadn't seen since the summer before last.  And I was immediately reminded of my little painting.

There are more boats moored out in front of the house these days (one of them, in fact, belongs to their Papa and me). And the old split rail fence has been replaced by a much fancier steel railing on the giant concrete sea wall that the family had built a few years ago, in order to keep the bank at the edge of the yard from eroding. But that beautiful view hasn’t changed one iota.

I didn't blog much over the summer, even though there was so much I could have shared here.  Life was kind of imitating art back in July, too, when our four other sons and our 12 other grandchildren came to spend a crazy, fun-filled week with us at our Oyster Haven VRBO house, which we’d blocked off for personal use. 

What could be cuter than a lineup of small children smooshed together, with their little legs dangling over the edge (of a hammock, or a dock, or whatever they happen to be sitting upon)?  That vintage Jesse Wilcox Smith painting up there has always been a favorite of mine.  The photo of our gang might have included a cat, too (our youngest son and his wife brought their two along with them), if it wasn't for the allergies in the Pearl clan.  Therefore, the kitties spent their vacation in the basement!

We have been back in VA for several days, where we will be living until summer 2022 draws near and we head north again.  We will miss that glorious lake--a work of art to be sure; but we are happy to be reunited with all of our sweet grandchildren, whose darling faces are nothing short of masterpieces.  (Said their very objective Grammy.)

It's so good to be back!

7QT: Trompe L’Oeil Fireplace Project

My husband and I have been in Upstate NY since late June.  Four of our boys and their families came up here for a week in early July, but otherwise we haven't been with our gang--and I miss them.  On Sunday, we're heading down to VA to check on our house there, and to break up the long summer and see our kids and grandkids.  All five boys and their families will be there, and I'm extremely excited to reconnect with everyone.   

So I thought it was apropos to do a post about our VA house.

A little over a year ago, just after we’d just finished off our VA basement, we got a discarded wooden fireplace mantle from son #3 and his wife.  (A neighbor of theirs had done a renovation and was giving it away for free, and our kids liked it but didn’t have a place to use it in their new house.)  I love a good trompe l'oeil treatment about as much as anyone, so I decided to take that mantle and create a faux fireplace with a blazing fire in it.  Actually, this was something we had considered doing in the basement of our old house in NH, but we never got around to it.  

I  thought I’d post the step-by-step transformation of this mantle project here at the blog.  (I did this a while ago in an Instagram story—back before I deleted my account—so you might have seen it already.) 

TAKE 1

First step: paint in the gray "mortar" that will go behind the bricks.  (I’m sorry.  The first step was really “get husband to expertly mount mantle to wall.”  I forgot that part!  But as you can see from the first photo up there, he did a great job!)

TAKE 2

Add the bricks—using a template made by tracing the bricks on the side of our house!

TAKE 3

Start giving the interior a three-dimensional look

TAKE 4

Create white brick interior.  (Lots of measuring, and using a level!)

TAKE 5

Make an andiron pattern to trace; sketch in and paint two of them.

TAKE 6

Blacken parts of the interior bricks to look “sooty”; add logs in the grate.

TAKE 7

Now make it burn, baby, burn!  (Sorry, that’s a disco-era reference from the 70’s that young whippersnappers won’t even get, and now you know how old I am.)  I kind of wanted to leave it with the logs unlit (you know, so the grandkids would be safe playing near it—ha ha!).  But my husband definitely wanted a fire.

By this point, I was pretty happy with my faux fireplace, and it was essentially finished.   But the flames needed tweaking—they were a bit dull-looking.  So I added some color to enliven them, as well as some more details (such as red-hot embers underneath).

And there you have it: a fireplace safe for our grandchildren’s playroom.  It fills in an empty wall nicely and “warms up" the space considerably!

 

I had originally thought I would distress the bricks a bit, to make them look old, instead of keeping them this dark red.  But I liked the way it looked and decided to leave well enough alone.  (My middle son humorously suggested that maybe I should touch the bricks up a little bit every year that we live here, so they’ll "age" along with the house!  We shall see...)

For now, as far as this “fool the eye” project goes, c'est finis!  Now allez vous, head on over to Kelly's for more 7QT fun.

"Tears Become Pearls"

I have just finished an acrylic painting of Our Lord's Holy Face, which I'm going to call "Tears Become Pearls." This title is in reference to these moving words from "Prayer to the Holy Face," which is printed on the back of a St. Veronica holy card that I picked up in the back of Church one Sunday and which I try to read each day: "I am consumed with the desire of loving Thee and making Thee loved by all mankind.  The tears that streamed in such abundance from Thine eyes are to me as precious pearls which I delight to gather, that with their infinite worth I may ransom the souls of the poor sinners."

I recently wrote a blog post about this prayer, and the way it inspired me to create an image of Jesus' tears transforming into pearls as they fall from His eyes. I did a colored-pencil rendition of the picture that had formed in my head, and it just didn't do the glorious image I had envisioned justice. My attempts at art rarely live up to those mind's-eye images!  But with renewed purpose, on October 20, I picked up my paints and my paintbrushes and went to work on a blank canvas, starting with a rough pencil sketch.

As I began to paint, my early endeavors did not produce very good fruit.  I almost gave up, thinking that perhaps I was not meant to get this image down in the form of a painting.  But something kept me working on it, while singing or humming well-known church hymns almost constantly, down in my basement sewing and painting "room."  (It's not really a room; carved out of a corner of the storage area, it is a cozy little nook that is an introvert's dream and my happy place!)

Yikes!  What is with those eyes?! They make
Him look like an Anime character. (I literally
scraped the paint off and started over.)

Getting better...

As you can see, Our Lord's face kept changing--especially the eyes, which to me are the most important feature of all.

I worked quickly--much more quickly than usual--and within a few days I felt I was close.

A couple of times long the way, I compared my Holy Face to the one imprinted on the Shroud of Turin.  On a whim I even turned my mostly-finished painting around and looked at it from behind, with the ceiling light shining on it (trying, not too successfully, to achieve the effect of a negative).

And now here's a comparison from the front.  The left-hand image was one that I found on Wednesday night, on the front of a prayer booklet on the bedside table at my second son's house (when we were spending the night to care for his three older boys while he and his wife were in the hospital welcoming baby #4--another boy!).  I snapped a picture of it to put side-by-side with my finished version of Jesus' Holy Face when I got back home.

What has been strange about painting this image is that I've worked more quickly and confidently than I usually do.  I don't have the urge to go back and do all kinds of tweaking now, even though I am well aware that there are aspects of the background and the hastily rendered red robe--and the pearls!--that could probably use some work.  Jesus' hair is not great, but I hesitate to overwork it an end up with something that looks even worse. The white of the canvas shows through in spots, where my brushstrokes were very light, and I normally feel the need to cover every inch of a canvas completely.  But in spite of all the flaws, I find that I don't want to touch this painting anymore, and such as it is, it is finished.

Aside from looking at the Shroud initially, as a starting point to get an idea of the facial proportions I should be shooting for, I worked on this Holy Face of Jesus without any references whatsoever.  Usually, I like to study a number of images to help me decide how I want my faces to look, and I keep them handy throughout the project; for this painting, I just did what came to me out of the picture I had in my head.  And I found myself feeling a more intense closeness with Jesus than ever--not that I'm saying I think I know what He looks like and believe I have captured His image correctly.  But for whatever reason, I felt particularly close to Him every minute that I was working on this.  And even though I am always, always the harshest critic of my own work, I feel nothing but happy when I look at it, now that it's done.

I realized after I had completed work on this painting that there are ten pearl tears--which seems just right, as I think they should symbolize the ten Hail Mary's in each decade of the Rosary.  That way, Our Lord's beloved Mother is included in this picture. I think it's fitting that the tears He shed during His passion because of the sins we have committed should be transformed into the beads of a Rosary.

With Election Day approaching and so many things--our religious freedom, most importantly--at stake, depending on the outcome, images of Our Lord speak to me now more than ever.  But because of Him and the ultimate sacrifice He made for us, I know all will be well in the end.  And I trust that He will take care of all of the Pearls, my very own string of Pearls, whom I love more than my own life.

Jesus, I trust in You!

Jesus, remember me, when You come into Your Kingdom!

Jesus, mercy!

And to quote from the final words of the "Prayer to the Holy Face" on my St. Veronica card, may I one day "reach the vision of Thy glorious Face in heaven!  Amen."

The Holy Face (Tears into Pearls)

I got in a creative mood today and just had to draw something, so out came my sketch pad and various other art supplies.  And I knew exactly what I wanted to draw.  For several days I'd had an image in my head.  It was inspired by these words, part of a Prayer to the Holy Face printed on the back of a St. Veronica card that I have started to read daily during morning prayers:

"I am consumed with the desire of loving Thee and making Thee loved by all mankind.  The tears that streamed in such abundance from Thine eyes are to me as pearls which I delight to gather, that with their infinite worth I may ransom the soul of the poor sinners."

Wow, isn't that beautiful?!

Meditating on that prayer, a vivid picture developed in my mind's eye of Jesus' tears turning into pearls, and I wanted to capture this image with my colored pencils.  (Especially after it hit me that as much as I've always loved to draw human faces, I've never attempted a portrait of the one person who was both human and divine at the same time!)

I got to work.  I did my best, such as it is.  And this is what I ended up with.

This humble picture doesn't begin to live up to the image I've had in my head.  (That one was glorious, I tell you--Michelangelo or Raphael might have been able to achieve what I had in mind.)  I know it's not professional quality and a better artist could have created something truly extraordinary.  But I used the Shroud of Turin as a guide to get the facial proportions as accurate as possible, and I worked on this with joy in my heart, a song on my lips, and so much love for the subject.  I believe that all the Lord asks of us is that we use whatever talents we've been given by His Father to the best of our abilities--in a way that gives glory to God.  So I hope He is well pleased.

I wish I could make a portrait of Jesus that looked more like this one, which I found online (I'm sorry I can't figure out who to give credit for it!).

But that kind of work is not in my skill set!

When I showed my drawing to my husband, before he could say a word about it I made sure to tell him that I knew it wasn't very good, but I thought Jesus would like it anyway because I did the very best that I could.  And my husband answered that of course He would like it!!  "If one of your sons drew a picture of you, you would love it no matter what.  You are God's precious child; of course He would love any gift you made for Him!"  (I'm paraphrasing but those are essentially his words.  Doesn't he always know the perfect thing to say?)

I may tweak my picture a bit before I'm completely satisfied.  I think perhaps there is too much gray shading in the pearls, so I may make them whiter.  But otherwise, I think I'm going to leave well enough alone.

However...I won't be surprised if, at some point in the near future when the creative juices are flowing, I feel compelled to give Our Lord's Holy Face another try.  If I do, I'll be sure to tell you all about it! ;) 

Beating the Coronavirus Blues (through Art!)

I am aware that I am luckier than many during this difficult stay-at-home period, and for that I feel extremely grateful.  I am an incurable homebody, never happier than when I'm hanging out with my hubby in our home, which has always felt like a sanctuary to me during every stage of our almost 40-year marriage—from the first tiny, humble apartment we lived in as newlyweds to the sweet cookie cutter Colonial we inhabit now, in our empty-nesting golden years.  We’d almost always rather cook our own meals than eat out, so restaurant closings aren’t stressing us out much at all (other than the worry that so many of them will probably be put out of business if this goes on much longer).   I have a plethora of hobbies and interests to keep me occupied inside the cozy and comforting walls of my own house—reading novels, sewing, drawing and painting, blogging, working on DIY projects, Netflix binge-watching with my guy—and even cleaning (yes, I admit it: I actually like to clean my house!).   And I don’t need to constantly interact with lots of people—in fact, having “nothing” on my social schedule is usually right in my wheelhouse.  To quote my introverted youngest son and what he said of himself and his bride of less than a year, I, too am "eerily well-equipped for quarantine life."  

But it’s one thing to choose to stay at home, and quite another to be forced to—especially when you’re not sure when things will ever return to normal.  The stress caused by fear and uncertainty about the future can be oppressive at times.  When I need to “get away from it all” and chase the coronavirus blues away, nothing does the trick better than spending a few hours messing around with a blank piece of paper and some colored pencils.

During Holy Week, talented and well-known botanical artist Katrina Harrington (of @roseharringtonart) hosted a #prayandpaintwithRH challenge, with a different bloom for each day, chosen specifically for its timely and meaningful religious symbolism.  I didn't participate every day of that week; but I was able to get two drawings finished and posted to the Instagram hashtag link-up.

Here was Wednesday's offering, featuring a yellow flower called St. Johnswort:

Along with the above image, I wrote this: "I cannot feel anything but happy and peaceful when I break out my colored pencils and get the creative juices flowing.  I spent the last few hours in a state of near euphoria, forgetting all about the world's problems and focusing on creating this picture.  @katrinaharrington is a gifted botanical artist.  I am not!  (Obviously!)  But my first love has always been drawing and painting faces.  So along with this weak rendition of St. Johnswort, named after St. John the Baptist, is the face of one of my wee granddaughters (also a weak rendition, because her perfection cannot be duplicated by an amateur artist like her Grammy!).  St. Johnswort is also called Christ's Bloody Sweat, because the red ends of the many stamens of this flower resemble drops of blood."  (You learn so much about flowers, and all the beautiful religious symbolism attached to them, if you follow Katrina!)

On Easter, the chosen flower was--what else?--a Resurrection Lily, or an Easter Lily.  I was not able to complete my artwork in time for the link-up on Sunday, so I posted it on Easter Monday:

Here's part of what I wrote to go along with this colored pencil drawing: "Here is my best effort at a Resurrection Lily, a beautiful bloom that symbolizes Our Lord's triumphant victory over death (alleluia!); and because I can't seem to create any piece of artwork that does not include a face, it is paired with a drawing of a baby that was inspired by one of my precious grandsons on the day of his Baptism.  It seemed fitting to show a tiny Christian on the day he was reborn through the sacrament and made a member of Christ's mystical Body alongside a flower that is  symbol of Christ's glorious Resurrection from the dead, by which we were saved and given the hope of eternal life with Him in Heaven."  Then I thanked Katrina for her #prayandpaintwithRH challenge, which in my case turned out to be "a true balm for the soul."

Holy Week is over, but I still feel like drawing babies and flowers, two of God's most glorious creations...so perhaps this will continue to be my way of finding peace and joy, until the worst of this current crisis is past, our churches are reopened, and life starts to make sense again.  

I hope you have a lot of babies, and a lot of flowers in your life...because they can both really help beat the coronavirus blues, can't they?

The Girls of Summer (and Their Baby Brother!)

Our oldest son and his wife, four daughters, and baby son arrived at the Pearl homestead in Upstate NY exactly a week ago, and we have been having a marvelous time.  The girls are amazed that this is the place where their Papa grew up--that he got to look out at that lake in his back yard every day, to swim whenever he wanted.  "This is the life!" one of the twins (who are eight, and the oldest of our 14 grandchildren) exclaimed, not long after they'd arrived.

Yes, indeed; this is the life.  It's like being on the best vacation ever, without ever having to leave the property--unless we want to walk all of two doors down to play at the private neighborhood beach, a wonderland of sand and waves and shallow waters filled with quick-darting minnows.

Here is a photo dump from the past week.  These pictures will tell the story better than I ever could.

In order to respect our firstborn son and his wife's wishes to keep their children's precious faces off the Interwebs, I have become adept (if I do say so myself!) at snapping pictures of them from the side or back.  I've always been a fan of such shots anyway; I consider these rather artsy poses to be just the sort of subject matter an oil painter might use as inspiration.

But whether with faces exposed or faces hidden, images of children digging in the sand at the beach or playing in the surf are pure artistic gold.  Here are some works by two of my favorite artists--Jesse Willcox Smith and Mary Cassatt--that illustrate my point perfectly.

The faces these talented artists created are as cute as can be, for sure; but they are not nearly as cute as those of my darling grandkids.  You're just going to have to trust me on this!