A Good Listener

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A Good Listener  © 2014 Karen Mathison Schmidt

6 x 6 inches • oil on GessobordTM
private collection • Poway, California

Here’s Mike the dog, who we met about four Sundays ago. It was a miserable, wintery, rainy day. When we got home from church and drove around to the back to go in the kitchen door, there was Mike huddled on the back porch, dripping wet and shivering.

Poor lost Mike! Of course we didn’t know his name then, but I could see before I got out of the car that he had a collar with (hallelujah!) a little metal plate that looked like an I.D. tag fastened onto it. Sure enough, when we invited Mike into the kitchen (I was calling him Charlie, because he just looked like a Charlie to me) and gave him some food (he looked soooooo hungry) we found that the tag did indeed have a name, address and phone number, which we promptly called and left a voicemail message. I googled the address and was surprised to see that it was in a neighborhood in town, about 30 miles from us -- a very long way for such a little guy!

While we waited for a return call, I dried Charlie/Mike off and made him a bed in front of the heater in a quiet corner of the dining room, away from our pack, who were quite curious about the visitor behind the closed door. I tried to get some pictures of him, but he was so excited whenever I would come back into the room that he wouldn’t stay still, and all my photos were blurry. Finally I was able to snap this one while he was basking in the heat from the radiator.

I could see he was getting sleepy, so I tiptoed out so he would rest a bit. After a while we got a call from Mike’s “Dad,” who was so relieved he had been found. As it turns out, they had only adopted Mike a few days before, and were visiting a friend out our way on Saturday when Mike slipped away and was running across the pastures and into the woods before they could catch up with him. It was a good thing they had been so prompt in giving him an I.D. tag!

While we were waiting for his owner to come and take him home, I went in the dining room to see if Mike was resting okay. The whole time he had been in our company he had been keeping his ears down against the side of his head, like in the picture. But this time when I went in and started talking to him, telling him his new Dad was on his way, his ears suddenly sprang to attention, straight out from either side of his head, like wings. I laughed and laughed, and ran to get the camera. I kept on talking to him while he hung on my every word, and was able to get a couple of semi-non-blurry reference pics. What a cutie pie!

Even though I was glad we had found where he belonged, I was sorry to see this little guy go home so soon. He sure was a great listener.

A hymn for the evening

In these last few cold spells that we’ve been having before spring sets in for good, I’ve been spending a little time each day out in the yard, clearing vines and overgrown areas that went neglected last summer, to make for easier mowing later on. I really want to get all this kind of thing done now because the messes I’m trying to clean up are just the sort of places where, as soon as the warm weather is here to stay, snakes like to lounge and wasps like to nest. So I’m trying to make it unattractive for them by making things neat and tidy.

Well, less messy anyway.

Late this afternoon I had been working out in front of the house for a good while when I glanced out to the pasture just in time to see the last rays of the sun hitting the tops of the trees, bathing them in gold -- quittin’ time! I thought as I ran for the camera and headed out to gather more painting fodder.

This last one I took just before going in to start supper
put me in mind of this evening hymn:

Now the day is over, night is drawing nigh,

Shadows of the evening steal across the sky.

Now the darkness gathers, stars begin to peep,

Birds and beasts and flowers soon will be asleep.

Jesus, give the weary calm and sweet repose; 

With Thy tenderest blessing may mine eyelids close.

Grant to little children visions bright of Thee;

Guard the sailors tossing on the deep blue sea.

Comfort those who suffer, watching late in pain;

Those who plan some evil from their sin restrain.

Through the long night watches may Thine angels spread

Their white wings above me, watching round my bed.

Glory to the Father, Glory to the Son,

And to Thee, blest Spirit, while all ages run.

words by SABINE BERING-GOULD (1867)

A good listener

Nobody appreciates the very special genius 

of your conversation as your dog does.

– CHRISTOPHER MORLEY

Mike WORK-IN-PROGRESS • 6 x 6 inches • oil on GessobordTM

Meet Mike the dog. When he’s listening to you talk to him his ears stand straight out and that makes me laugh. I busted out laughing several times this afternoon while working on this painting. More about Mike when I post the photo of the finished painting.

Happy painting!

Heeeeeeere’s Jo! (again)

Basketful o’ Jo  © 2014 Karen Mathison Schmidt

6 x 6 inches • oil on museum series GessobordTM

She’s finished!

>>> AND NOW A WARNING <<<

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signed & numbered by the artist

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Live a quiet life & work with your hands

I THESSALONIANS 4:11

Basketful O’ Jo (revisited) WORK-IN-PROGRESS

6 x 6 inches • oil on GessobordTM

After doing some more work on the large daffodil painting, I started working my way down from top to bottom on this one; I had just staked out my highlights on the basket when today’s light started fading. Along towards twilight when the natural light was too dim to see colors clearly, I flipped on the light switch and moved on to sketches for two new paintings so I’ll be ready to go on those as soon as this joyful one is finished.

A beautifully quiet day, filled with work I love to do.

Speaking of working with our hands, I recently discovered the work of lettering artist Dana Tanamachi (the image on the left is one of her posters available here). 

On her website, Dana is introduced as “a Texas-bred, Brooklyn-based graphic designer and letterer who enjoys living a quiet life and working with her hands.” 

She does a lot of work with chalk -- these time-lapse videos of her working that she has on her website are really cool.

I love the “FLOURISH” video she has on her home page. My favorite part is when she’s sitting in the chair contemplating the wall she is about to work on, and then she stands up and touches her hand to the blank wall. I LOVE that! I sometimes do that with a blank board that I’m about to paint. Just run the palm of my hand across it ever so lightly. I don’t know why. 

I love that precious moment right after the determination that it’s time to begin, and just before the first mark is made on the surface. Anything can happen.

And it usually does.

Painting déja vu

Basketful O’ Jo (revisited) WORK-IN-PROGRESS

6 x 6 inches • oil on GessobordTM

Remember this one from December? It was purchased as a Christmas gift for the buyer’s wife, but in the short trip from here to Richardson, Texas, it was damaged. He went ahead and gave it for Christmas, then returned it to me for repair.

In all the years I’ve been shipping paintings, I’ve never had a problem with them being damaged in transit until this past year, when I had two paintings returned to me for repair. The first one I was able to fix like new, no problem, and its new owner is very happy with it. This one, however, is being very stubborn about being glued to a second board for support, and just won’t stick, in spite of my trying several different adhesives -- maybe because of the cold or the humidity. Anyway, the very understanding new owner and I have agreed on my repainting the subject.

Once I knew I would be painting a new Basketful O’ Jo, I had the choice of:

A) trying to copy my first painting, or
B) putting that one out of sight and just starting again from my reference photo.

I thought option B would be the better choice. Mostly I was kind of curious to see how much difference there would turn out to be between the old painting and the new. One basic thing I’ve done differently is the underpainting: the first time I did the entire underpainting in glazes of phthalo blue and Prussian blue; and for this second painting I used vivid Naphthol red for the area which will be the green wall on the left and the bunch of flowers nestled in the basket behind Jo. I still used the phthalo blue everywhere else, adding just a touch of green to Jo and a glaze of the red to the door, making it a luscious purple. I can hardly wait to see how my Santa Fé blue door looks over that!

When I came to my stopping point today I put the paintings side by side and I must say I like the new one much better so far. (Whew!)

I’m still not quite finished with Jo’s face, and it may be my imagination, but I think she looks a touch less grumpy at having her nap interrupted.

Daffodil time!

A house with daffodils is a house lit up, 

whether or no the sun be shining outside.

A. A. MILNE

Debutantes WORK-IN-PROGRESS • 12 x 36 inches • oil on GessobordTM

Still working on  the Fringe Benefits cat painting work-in-progress slide show. Meanwhile, here’s a sneak peek at my new daffodil painting in progress.

Love those sunny blooms against that purple underpainting!

Daffodil time is just about my favorite time of year. I really enjoy this last stretch of winter when fewer and fewer frosty days are scattered among more and more springlike days, and before mosquitoes take over for the summer. Over the last few years it’s become kind of a tradition that the first jonquil bouquet of the season goes to my friend Connie, so this one went to her last night. Sweet!