Front Porch

I have happy memories of my grandma and grandpa's house.  I was #20 out of 21 grandkids. Sometimes I got to stay with them by myself or with some of the younger cousins.  Sometimes it was a hive of activity with lots of cousins, aunts, and uncles.

My grandparents passed away before I was a teenager, so my memories are few, but the ones I do have are special and maybe unique. These memories are specific to the porch.

• Marigolds would be planted in front of the porch.  Always marigolds.  (And, I always plant some marigolds in my garden and think of them.)
• The front porch was huge and where lots happened. (Although, I found photos of it, and no... it wasn't huge at all!  It was small!)
• There was a welcome mat in front of the porch.  Every evening, they'd put some scraps and vegetables then wait.  We'd have to be still and patient, but eventually the rabbits would come.
• Later there was a ramp put up beside the porch steps for two cousins who became paralyzed and needed wheelchair access to the house. My #21 cousin and I had so much fun on that ramp.
• Grandpa would sit on the porch and peel his daily apple.  He'd use a pocket knife and go around and around the apple making one long peel.
• Fly swatters hung on a nail.  Whether playing cards, swinging, waiting for rabbits, or having a snack, swatting and shooing flies was just part of life.
• Anytime a car passed by on the dirt road, they'd discuss who it was and where they might be going or where they'd been.

For my companion piece for my Creative Companion group, I thought about memories I had for each of my senses.

• Taste
• Noodle dumplings
• R.C. Cola
• Smell
• Food cooking 
• Marigolds
• Touch
• Bitter cold Meyer Creek
• Cane-bottom, ladder-back chairs
• Hear
• Laughter
• "The Price Is Right!"
• See
• Barn, garden, & smokehouse
• Bookshelf, where I found and read all the Little Women books.

This month's topic for Creative Companions was "A Memory that Resonates Through Time."

Original Oil Painting on 10"x 10" Wrapped Canvas

Sante Fe Doorstep (Palette Knife)

We visited Santé Fe recently. We found it to be very tan. Very tan... The buildings were tan... The ground was tan... The food was kind of tan... The people were tan... The plants were mostly tan... If I had to sum up the trip with one word, tan would be the word. It's not a bad thing... Just a tan thing.

Besides all the tan there were pops of beautiful turquoise. So much turquoise! Turquoise jewelry... turquoise clay pots... turquoise shutters... turquoise doors... turquoise in silver.

I don't know when I've ever taken so few photos on a trip as this one.  But when I got home and scrolled trough all the photos that I did take, nearly all of them were of colorful doorsteps, window boxes, and pretty front porches. Apparently, May is also the month of lilacs in Santé Fe. I did take lots of great photos of lilacs. Maybe some of them will end up in a painting one of these days.

Original Oil Painting on 8"x 10" Wrapped Canvas

[SOLD]

Pink Primroses on the Porch

My instructions for this painting were short and open ended, "It needs to be a painting about pink primroses, and it needs to be big." 

Okay then... Let me think... 
What does a primrose look like? It's a really small flower...  A field of primroses would look like a bunch of pink blobs or sprinkles on a green background...
How can I make the primroses tell a story, be the star of the painting, and still be normal size? I need a background that will be important but not steal the show.
How about a white-ish house... with a white-ish door... and a white-ish rail... on a white-ish porch... beside white-ish lattice and white-ish steps...
Oh, and green plant leaves to fill space and cover up all the places where I couldn't make the edges of the steps look right... I mean... to add a complementary color and organic texture to the background.

This is the second painting that I did for one of the bedrooms of Welcome Home Retreat.   It's for the Primrose Room, of course. You can see the one for the Bluebonnet Room here. 

These pretty pink primroses are singing, "Come up these steps!  There's a friendly face just inside the door and a porch swing just outside the edges of the canvas.  Sit down and enjoy. Don't be in a hurry."

I do love a good porch.

I do have a good porch.
It wraps around.

If you come, we'll have to make a choice.... 
The rocking chairs in the front corner?
The swing in the other corner?
Or the gliders in the back?

And... If you happen to have enlarged and zoomed in... yeah... that's Ron's Harley on the front porch...  Sorry about that... kind of makes one question whether we're rednecks with our vehicles parked on the porch... That's not it's home, he just had it parked there. 

Original Oil Painting on 16"x 20" Wrapped Canvas
[SOLD]

It's extra special when I get to do a
painting for someone I love!

Rich Mountain in the Ouachitas

What do you see from your front doorstep?

Right now I see trees with the most gorgeous golden, red, yellow, and orange leaves.  This afternoon I told my husband we should go for a drive just to see the wonderful foliage that the Ozark Mountains has to offer right now.  While trying to decide which direction we should drive -north, east, south, west - we decided that our own driveway had the prettiest trees we could see anywhere.  So... we stayed home... maybe tomorrow we'll go for that drive.

The Ozark Mountains are where my home is now, but I grew up in a small town in a surrounded on all sides by the Ouachita Mountains.  From the front doorstep of my childhood, this was (almost) my view.

The photograph used as a reference for this painting was taken from neighbor's doorstep just a few miles away from where I grew up.

Those two peaks of Rich Mountain bring back a flood of memories and make me stop to sigh a little.  Instead of a lake and dock, from my doorstep there would have been a front yard, a dirt road, the neighbor's garden, a pasture or two, then the very same mountain peaks in the background.

[SOLD]

   I am from a red-clay road

rolling with dust after each passing car

            from a long bed of irises 

purple, white, yellow, and maroon

from two cars out front 

one with 4 doors, one with a bed, two humps, and a tailgate

            from a front porch with a dachshund named Noodles lying on the step, a

screen door that slams, and a panoramic view of the Ouachita Mountains.

   I am from tassel-topped corn stalks, thorny blackberry vines, and staked tomato plants

                        bringing the flavors of summer

            from a formica kitchen table

                        surrounded by six chairs and a stool

            from little glass Pepsi bottles, black angus beef,

and homemade ice cream hand-cranked by strong brothers

            from sit-down dinners, lingering while the food settles,

                        and sisters washing dishes by hand.

   I am from Curtis Ray 

                        “Handy as a pocket on a shirt”

            from Gladys Adelle

                        “Busy hands are happy hands”

            from trotline catfish

dangling off Grandpa’s stringer

            from quilts and afghans

                        labors of love from Grandma’s worn hands.

   I am from Ben Franklin’s, Piggly Wiggly,

                        and a fifteen-cent Tastee Freeze cone with a curlicue on top

            from a picture window, an attic fan, an antenna on the roof for

a black-and-white television

from football games on Friday nights, cartoons on Saturday mornings, and church

twice on Sundays

            from  pot luck suppers, “Count Your Many Blessings,” pass the offering plate,

in Jesus’ name, Amen.

   I am from a place that is real

            from a time that has past

            from bonds that endure

   I am from home.