Category Archives: Melissa’s Musings and Doodlings

Musings, original paintings, and sketches from life as I see it

Holidays in Ink Week 2 Sketches

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I’ve had another enjoyable and sometimes challenging week of Holidays in Ink sketching. I’m finding the challenge and self-imposed accountability of daily sketching in ink is helping me in more ways than I expected. When I have not felt inspired or motivated, instead of deciding not to sketch or to only sketch what is familiar and easy for me, I have pushed myself to get started or to push beyond my comfort zone, and have invariably found that inspiration has followed effort. That’s been encouraging on those days and a good lesson for the future. Of course I have experienced that lesson in the past in many different contexts, but this has been a good refresher on that lesson and a good reminder that art is often a paradigm for the rest of life.

I have also very much benefitted from seeing what friends have done with their ink sketching. It’s always inspiring to me to see how others work and motivates me to tackle subjects or approaches I hadn’t previously considered. Of course, along with that comes the temptation I’m guessing most of us deal with to compare our work and ourselves to others, but that, too, has given me opportunity to evaluate my attitudes and to clarify my reasons for pursuing my art. I draw, sketch, and paint because I love doing it, because it is an ability God has given me for my own enjoyment and to bless others, and because I cannot not do art. Even on the rare occasions I decide not do it for some reason, I find myself doodling or, at the very least, sketching what I’m seeing in my mind or evaluating the colors, shapes, and beauty surrounding me– God’s amazing artwork in his creation.

Last Tuesday I pulled out Stephen’s photos of the Sharp-shinned Hawk I had sketched from life on Sunday. First I worked slowly and carefully sketching it in color, trying to get details just right. That sketch turned out looking like an uncomfortably stuffed taxidermy specimen. That evening before I went to bed I grabbed my Tombow Gray/Black Dual Tip Brush Pen and did a quick (about three minute) sketch of the Sharpie. I like the more spontaneous feel of that sketch much more than the carefully overdone version. (For some reason it scanned as green, but it’s actually gray.)

One artist I really like is Rien Poortvliet, a Dutch artist who sketched and painted many dogs, wild animals, and people. I especially love his fox sketches, and I’ve been wanting to get a better sense of fox structure so I can more successfully sketch them from life when they pay us their brief visits, so I decided to use some of his paintings as references.

After sketching the foxes, I decided to do a study of Canid skulls to become familiar with some of the similarities and differences. I did those over two days, since they took lots of time and focus. That was definitely not a relaxing subject for sketching!

After the first day of skull sketching I decided to return to one of my favorite subjects– trees. First I sketched one of our black locusts from the window of my prayer bungalow using a new-to-me ink that my friend Jamie Grossman had given me- Cacao du Bresil. What a fascinating color, somewhere between brown and gray with hints of pink and purple! I loaded it into a Pentel Pocket Brush Pen and sketched the tree from the its western side in morning light. Then in the afternoon I sketched the eastern view of the same tree from our deck (it was chilly but sunny) using Yama Guri ink in my Hero 578 bent nib fountain pen. I love doing comparison sketches like that, and I love this gnarly tree who is full of character from many years of living.

After refreshing myself by doing tree sketches I was ready for a challenge again and finished up my skull sketch, then moved on to doing some contour line drawings, something I have only done a few times. The idea is to draw the outline of the subject in one continuous line, without shading, looking mostly at the object. I enjoyed this much more than I expected. Acadia kept moving, so I did several rather quick sketches of her.

Then yesterday I decided to move on to Blind Contour Line Drawings. That was much more challenging, even though I “cheated” a fair amount, so it wasn’t totally “blind,” as in drawing without looking at the paper at all. With the flowers I made the mistake of using water soluble ink, so when I went over it with watercolor, the ink ran, but I kind of like the effect. Maybe it distracts from how far off the mark my lines are. 😉 After struggling with the flowers (I always struggle with florals, even when looking at both paper and flowers), I decided to do a blind contour sketch of my favorite tree. That went better, and I will continue doing this exercise with subjects I love.

I’m looking forward to another good week of Holidays in Ink! This week I’m hoping to pull out Yupo paper and some markers to play with some different forms of ink, and I might also do a drip painting. That will definitely stretch me out of my comfort zone but should be fun!

Holidays in Ink Week 1 Sketches

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I have had a great time sketching in ink this week! I’ve been enjoying familiar subjects and methods, as well as experimenting with new-to-me subjects and approaches. I’ve especially appreciated the motivation and momentum I’ve gained from doing this project with others and having the detailed prompt lists. My friend Jamie Grossman, who came up with the Holidays in Ink challenge, is always inspiring with her abundance of creative ideas and her willingness to step outside the box and try things that are beyond her comfort zone, That has inspired me to also step outside my comfort zone and, as Jamie said in her recent post, Holidays in Ink Week 2, that can be uncomfortable, but it has also been exciting as I am learning new approaches and tackling subject matter I never thought I’d try drawing.

Below are some of my sketches from this first week. I am still trying to develop more of a rhythm in how I approach my sketching (as I am in much of my daily life), and I have all sorts of things I want to try in the coming weeks. Mostly, though, I am enjoying the calming effect of sketching along with the invigorating effect of stretching myself as I try new approaches.

The first day I had big plans and had been bursting with eagerness to get started with something challenging, but I felt like I hit a wall and couldn’t get enthusiastic about drawing anything. I finally decided to start with something I knew and loved sketching– a tree. It was a somewhat warm, sunny day, so I took a chair out into the yard and sat quietly and meditatively sketching for over an hour, until my fingers were getting stiff from the dropping temperature. I came inside chilled but feeling peaceful and with my spirits lifted, and I did some calligraphy of a verse that corresponded to my sketch.

On Wednesday and Friday I again drew trees (I skipped sketching on Thanksgiving Day).

On Saturday Stephen and Ramble and I went for a hike, so I did some quick sketches on location and then did a more careful sketch at home based on one of my sketches and a photo I took.

I had a great time sketching on Sunday! First, we had a Sharp-shinned Hawk visit in one of our shrubs for long enough for me to do a fairly detailed sketch from life. That was a treat! Then our pastor showed a picture of an angel painted by Raphael (he’s talking about angels in the Bible during Advent and showed some images of how people erroneously picture angels). I have been reading Raphael, Painter in Rome: A Novel, by Stephanie Storey, so I decided to try the “Copy a Master” prompt. That was way outside my comfort zone, but turned out to be fun and was a lot more successful than I expected. And then in the evening I did some portrait sketches while Stephen read The Two Towers by J.R. R. Tolkien to me (the book was at a very scary part, so sketching helped me not get too tense).

On Monday I read about Notan design or Notan sketches (one of the process prompts), which was completely new to me. It’s the idea of only sketching in two or three values, capturing light and shadow, in order to increase the impact. I decided to do it with just two values, and I really enjoyed doing that! The two sketches on one page are based on photos, and the one of Stephen is from life, again while he was reading to me (now we’re starting The Return of the King by Tolkien).

I am looking forward to week 2!

 

Black Locust Tree and Bash Bish Falls in Gouache

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I finally feel like my inspiration and motivation are reviving after being mostly absent for much of 2020. While I have sketched a great deal, especially from our front porch in Maine (Front Porch Sketches and More Front Porch Sketches), I haven’t often had the mental energy to do more than very quick sketches. I am realizing more and more how much stress and grief and illness can drain one’s creative energy. But now that my creative spark is returning, I am finding it is both energizing and calming at the same time to immerse myself in meditative sketching or painting. I am very thankful to be getting my brushes wet again and to be playing with paint and ink.

A couple weeks ago a friend who does amazing renditions of Van Gogh’s and some other artists’ paintings suggested I paint the same black locust tree I had done in ink (images in my last post) with vivid colors. I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but I decided to pull out my gouache and go a bit wild with color. I sat in my yard (under a cedar tree that showered me with prickly needles) and painted, trying to capture the light on the trunk of the tree. And that got me revved up to paint with gouache, so next I pulled out a sketch I’d done on location and a photo of Bash Bish Falls in Massachusetts (can’t go there now because of Covid, so a sketch and photo had to do) and imagined being there as I painted.

Trees

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I love this time of year when we still have some fall color, but we can also see more and more of the essence or “bones” of the trees. Trees are one of my favorite subjects for drawing, painting, sketching, and just plain looking at. They are more cooperative than dogs, cats, or people, and especially more so than birds. It seems no matter how quietly I pick up a pen and my sketchbook when my cat, Acadia, or my dog, Ramble, are sleeping, they immediately wake up or shift position in their sleep. But the trees in my yard generally stand fairly still and they hold their essential shape (with minor changes due to falling limbs on occasion), except when leaves are growing in the spring or falling in autumn. But those changes take place more slowly than I sketch.

However, even though the trees stand still, the light can change dramatically in a matter of minutes, so sometimes I need to observe closely and sketch quickly. As I sketched this morning and tried to capture the morning light on one of our venerable black locust trees, Paul’s words from Ephesians and Colossians about making the most of every opportunity came to mind and led me into meditating on the importance of being attentive to the opportunities God brings my way. I don’t want to miss the privilege of seeing his fingerprints in the world or cooperating with him in some work he has for me, and sketching trees always seems to slow me down and bring me into a place of mindfulness. I wonder if one reason God made trees to be stationary beings is for them to model a patient attentiveness and responsiveness to all that happens around them.

Locust Tree in fleeting morning light: “make the most of every opportunity…”
Locust tree in fleeting afternoon light
These three ash trees have graced our land for over 60 years (I counted the rings), but had to be cut down last month due to Emerald Ash Borer damage. I wanted to honor them with a sketch before they fell.
Dead now for several years, this pine still stands, a source of food and shelter for many birds and insects. It is beautiful as its bark and branches catch the sun.


Rocks of Acadia National Park crowned with fall color

Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Preparing for Holidays in Ink

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I am eager to join my friend Jamie Grossman in her Holidays in Ink Challenge, which will run from Tuesday, November 24, 2020 to Saturday, January 2, 2021. In fact I’m so eager that I was all set to start tomorrow, November 1st, until Jamie reminded me that it doesn’t start until two days before Thanksgiving! I have way too many pens of all sorts (if it’s actually possible to have too many pens), and I love experimenting and drawing with inks of various colors. I’m looking forward to sketching familiar subjects with my accustomed methods and also to stretching myself with new subjects, new techniques, and new supplies (what artist doesn’t love the idea of new supplies!).

One thing I very much appreciate about Jamie is her enthusiasm for learning and trying new things; she’s a great example and is also very generous with sharing her ideas and knowledge. She’s always encouraging her friends to grow as artists, without pressuring them to do what she does. In that vein, Jamie has come up with two prompt lists, one of subjects and one of process prompts. There’s no pressure to follow the prompts in any order or even to follow them at all; they are a resource to encourage experimenting and playing with new ideas while doing Holidays in Ink, not a prescription that must be followed.

See below for links to Jamie’s post about Holidays in Ink and for downloadable PDF’s of the prompt lists.

Here’s Jamie’s post with nitty gritty details and prompt lists: Holidays in Ink Challenge– Details and Prompt Lists

Below are downloadable PDF’s of the prompt lists:

HOLIDAYS IN INK PROMPTS SINGLE PAGE

HOLIDAYS IN INK PROMPTS 2-SIDED

Recent Musings and Sketches

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My focus the past few weeks has been to rest, refocus, and continue to develop a workable, helpful rhythm of life, as I mentioned in my post of August 14th. Grief seems to drain me of creative energy, even when I’m not specifically thinking of recent losses, so I’ve been doing a lot of reading the past few weeks since we lost our sweet Petra. Reading often calms my mind so that I can think constructively and, more importantly, seems to renew my energy and motivation for doing things that need to be done (laundry, cooking, etc.) and for creative expression, whether sketching, painting, or writing. I will often think I’m just being lazy or that I have lost all creative ability, but if I then spend a few hours reading, interspersed with a couple walks with Ramble, all of a sudden I find that I’m eager to start sketching or even planning a painting.

I’ve mostly been sketching trees, either with ink, which I love because of its simplicity and the way it lends itself to both bold expression and subtle nuance, or with watercolor and gouache as I attempt to capture fall colors. I’ve also continued to sketch Stephen as he reads in the evenings, and sometimes myself from my reflection in a window as Stephen reads aloud to me.

Watercolor sketch of Stephen reading
Graphite pencil self portrait from window reflection in a dim room
Graphite pencil sketch of Stephen reading
Water-soluble ink sketch of Stephen reading
View from Fishkill Ridge- watercolor and gouache
Trees in our yard
Schoodic Peninsula rock and fall color from photo) in gouache
In honor of three Ash trees that succumbed to the Emerald Ash Beetle
The Bedford Oak
Dead Pine tree in our yard in water-soluble ink
Black Locust in Ink

Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl– Book Review

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Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Harriet A. Jacobs, is both an easy read and a very difficult read. Easy in that it is gripping and hard to put down, especially knowing that it is a true story. Difficult, especially knowing that it’s a true story, because it is very hard to read of the despicable ways people were considered property and were treated with no respect, no regard for their feelings, and with no hope or expectation of relief. Many times the incidents and situations brought me to tears or made me tense with anger. This is history we should be aware of, not merely intellectually, but also on an emotional and social level, of how it affected countless people in our country.

While I was aware of the fact that these abuses had happened, reading this book drove home the horror of what life was like, in particular for slave girls and women. It also made clear that even though some slaveholders were benevolent and genuinely cared for their slaves, they were still lacking in understanding of how the system of slavery dehumanized and endangered anyone who was considered property.

While I am thankful for the decency, support, friendship, and genuine love shown by those who worked hard to free slaves or end the institution of slavery, I am appalled at the fact that slavery existed as an institution and that it remained for so long. This narrative of Jacobs’ life, with all she and others she knew suffered, drives home the inhumanity of any human being thinking they have the right to own another. The fact that so many people who were considered respectable citizens owned slaves, some abusing them horrendously, others acting benevolently but still not emancipating their slaves, starkly demonstrates how deceived one can be about others and even about oneself. I recommend reading this book with an open heart and mind to learn more about a deplorable chapter in our history and also to learn about human nature, both the dreadful and the gracious and forgiving.

Our Sweet Petra May 16, 2005 to September 18, 2020

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We said good-bye to our sweet Petra yesterday evening. She had been aging but otherwise doing great until late Thursday evening; a week ago she even went on a three mile hike with us in the woods at Taconic Hereford, a place she has always loved. I’m so thankful we took the time for what we didn’t know would be her last hike. She was even playing with Ramble earlier Thursday evening and trotting happily around the house while I prepared the animals’ dinners. Then something suddenly changed and she went rapidly downhill. By yesterday evening it was apparent that she was telling us it was time for us to let her go in peace.

I fell in love with Petra when I first met her when she was three weeks old and fell asleep in my arms. When I brought her home at eight weeks, she immediately bonded with Stephen and he with her. Then she met Rowan, who was enchanted with his little sister. She was less enchanted with him at that first meeting, and promptly put him in his place, but then, respect having been established, they bonded deeply for life.

Six weeks old– our first meeting

Petra was so always so full of life, leaping up trees, running full tilt through woods, playing with Rowan, Milo, and more recently Ramble. She loved people and was a fabulous therapy dog, listening to elementary children as they read to her and talked to her, and demonstrating obedience and doing tricks when she and I did programs for school assemblies. When I sometimes couldn’t sleep or was just drawn outside by the beauty of moonlit nights, Petra was always my first choice for a quiet nocturnal companion as I walked around the yard listening to the sounds of the night and watching for fleeting shadows of the wild denizens of our land.

Petra also had a tender side that drew out a matching tenderness in many people, especially Stephen, whom Petra adored. They would sit on the floor together, face to face, holding long eye contact, as Steve petted Petra and she “sang” to him with happy dog sounds. She was always so gentle with our cats, “petting” them with a front paw, or licking their ears, which they seemed to like. She used to lick Rowan’s ears, too, and he would groan with appreciation while she licked one ear, then he would turn his head for her to lick his other ear. I remember one time when Milo found a rabbit’s nest and started devouring the baby bunnies. I quickly called him away and took him to the house, where I found a squirming baby bunny that Petra had gently carried up and put on the doorstep, presumably so I could protect it.

Petra also had an intensity that showed itself in various ways. She was always vigilant, which meant she was a fabulous watchdog, always keeping an eye on who was coming or going. She was intensely bonded to all of us in the family, and if Stephen or I was out, she would usually sit by the door watching for us to come home, no matter how long we were out. If I told her one of our children was coming home from college and would soon be arriving, she would run to the door and sit watchfully, waiting for even an hour or two for them to arrive, then would leap with great joy. And in her younger years Petra chewed Nylabones so intensely that she chewed them to sharp points—we called it her dagger collection.

Petra’s dagger collection

There was so much more that is running through my mind like a kaleidoscope of memories and images. Petra was a strong and vibrant presence in our home for over fifteen years, and her passing leaves a giant hole in our lives. Thank you, Sweet Petra, for all you were to us. We love you and miss you.

Dressed up and ready for a Therapy Dog visit to a school

A Spark of Light (Book Review)

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I rarely write reviews of the books I read, mostly because I am usually well into another book by the time I finished reading one, but sometimes, if I feel very strongly either positively or negatively, I am inclined to review one. I’m hoping to start reviewing a few more, and generally my reviews will be about why I like a book, as I often just don’t finish a book if I don’t like it. But I’m writing a strongly negative review this time.

I recently finished reading A Spark of Light, by Jodi Picoult, one of my favorite novel writers, whose books I enjoy both for how engaging her writing is (hard for me to put down, so I have to space out how often I read them) and for the well-researched ways she presents the complexity of challenging contemporary issues. I was very disappointed with this book. I’ve enjoyed many books by Picoult and have appreciated the diverse points of view she presents, but she failed to do that with A Spark of Light. One of the things I have loved about her books is the way she presents both (or multiple) sides of an issue with well-rounded characters with whom one can sympathize and relate to. That has made me come away from her books with a better understanding of why people would approach an issue differently than I do, and greater understanding of the complexity of whatever issue the book is dealing with. In some cases that has even resulted in me modifying my own views. Not so with this book. In A Spark of Light, Picoult presents the pro-life characters as shallow, extreme, and unlikable. While there certainly are some who fit that description, it is an unfair and inaccurate caricature of the majority of pro-life people.

In her Author’s Note at the end of the book, Picoult states that she interviewed pro-life advocates and they were “not religious zealots…were appalled by acts of violence…weren’t trying to circumvent women’s rights or tell women what to do with their bodies,” and that she had enjoyed conversation with them. So why did that not come across in her writing? I can’t imagine anyone coming away from this book feeling sympathy with any of the pro-life characters. It seems to me that Picoult threw aside one of her greatest strengths in her writing in order to get across a political message. I’ve seen other writers do that, too,and it is always dismaying, even when I have agreed with the point they were making or perspective they were advocating. I may still read some of Picoult’s books I haven’t read yet, but I am less interested in reading her more recent ones.

Unexpected

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A few months ago, during the pandemic lockdown, a friend suggested we each do some writing based on the prompt “Unexpected.” My mind was immediately flooded with all sorts of thoughts, some of which I scribbled in my journal.

Then my father died. He had not been in good health and was increasingly frail, but his death had not seemed imminent until a few days prior, despite the fact that he was nearly 96. Both of these pieces were written before my father’s death, but having experienced yet again that even the expected can hit one hard emotionally, I didn’t get around to typing them up until now. I may yet have more to add on this topic as I continue to process his death, my life, and a world in which hard things, both expected and unexpected, will continue to occur.

Unexpected (April 22, 2020)

“Come Thou Long-expected Jesus”—One of my favorite Christmas hymns, comes to mind every time I think of the word “unexpected.” Since I was a teenager I’ve loved this hymn that speaks of how Christ the Messiah was expected, predicted, prophesied for generations, centuries actually—more than 18 centuries. Expected for so long that he became unexpected, so that even those who knew the prophecies best and were, in theory, waiting eagerly for his coming were not actually expecting his arrival.

How about me? I know he will come again; that coming was also prophesied by multiple prophets, and Jesus said many times that he will come again. But will I be ready, watching for him, expectant? Or will his coming be unexpected, because time goes by and the ordinary continues, as it always does?

Or does it? These days of Covid-19 are far from ordinary. Nothing like this has happened in my lifetime, and our society, along with many societies around the world, is reeling. This level of disruption to our daily life and economy is truly unexpected. Because the unexpected has occurred, the possibility of serious illness and death at a relatively young age for some in our circles of friends and family can no longer be considered unexpected.

Interesting that the unexpected of one sort has made what was unexpected in another realm now likely rather than unexpected. The unexpected makes the unexpected expected. Am I ready? Am I expectant?

More thoughts on “Unexpected” (May 7, 2020)

It seems to me there are two categories of “unexpected.” There is that which is unexpected because one never thought it would happen and most likely never gave it any thought. This Covid-19 pandemic is such—who would ever have thought that our economy would come to a screeching halt, and not just ours, but most economies around the world? Who would have ever thought we’d be under stay-at-home orders for many weeks? This is unprecedented in our country, at least in my lifetime. I suppose there are countless scenarios that fall into this category, but it doesn’t seem reasonable to expend much mental energy on such possibilities, as they are truly unlikely by virtue of being so extreme.

So how can one prepare? I think in the same way one prepares for the other category of “unexpected,”  those events that are inevitable but happen earlier than expected. This second category would include what is often termed the “unexpected death” of someone. Actually, dying is one of the most certain events I or anyone will ever face—every one of us will die someday. So by “unexpected” we mean that death came at a time we didn’t see it coming. A heart attack, stroke, accident, violent attack—these are some causes of unexpected deaths,, even though some of these causes are not so uncommon.

So how can I avoid the shock of the inevitable catching me unawares, thus seeming unexpected? I think Moses, millennia ago, had part of the answer:

Teach us to realize the brevity of life,
so that we may grow in wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)

If I truly grasp the brevity of my life (or as another translation puts it, if I “number my days”), I will always live with an awareness of possible death and a readiness to face it. If viewed with wisdom, that readiness to face and accept my death, whenever it may come, includes a recognition that God holds all of this life and this world, past, present, and future in his good, powerful, and loving hands. That confidence should enable me to trust him with both the inevitable and the truly unexpected, because I know I am safely held in his hands, and nothing is unexpected for him.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.. Lamentations 3:22-23