Purple Tulips

One day about a month ago I decided to buy a bunch of purple tulips from Trader Joe’s so I could paint them.  Nothing serious.  Just a quick, fluid study of tulips.  I was rather down at the time and thought that a fast floral might perk me up.  Well, it did, but it became a thing.  Several weeks and four, separate bouquets later (because tulips get kinda yucky after three days and need to be tossed) this is the final outcome.  It became a hard course in “I’m gonna make this work”.  No being precious.  Just hardcore, teeth gritted “You’re gonna do what I want you to do or else.”  The composition changed and shifted and I tried to keep it effortless as best as I could, without falling too far down into the detail trap.

I’m pretty pleased with my purple tulips from Trader Joe’s.  They listened to me.

Oil on Canvas

22″ x 28″

My Mother

My Mother

She was one of those people that can only be described as “superhuman”. She could do anything. When she decided she was going to do something, she did it. Immediately. No waiting around thinking about it. She just did it. Whatever that “it” happened to be, it was always perfect.

She could sew like a dream, upholster, taught herself how to cane furniture. She was an excellent cook. Her garden – forget about it. Flowers that were huge and amazing.

She was my biggest supporter, knew me better than anyone. She always nudged me to paint. “You need to be painting…” is something I heard all the time as a kid and a teen. It was my mother who looked at one of my photographs when I was around 10 or 11 and she said, “Oh. You have an eye for composition.” I didn’t understand what she meant, but the fact that she thought I took good pictures meant everything. I lost her to a brain aneurysm in 1993. I miss her every day. I took this photo of her not long before she left us.

Tell your mothers that you love them. Appreciate who they are, just as they are. Never take them for granted. Ever.

Happy Mothers Day