Tag Painting

One Hundred Days

Michael 3 Comments

If you are “lucky” enough to live in a city, county, state, country, homeowners’ association, etc., that elected a new representative, mayor, commissioner, dog catcher, etc. last fall who was installed in office in January, you are likely seeing stories here and about regarding so-and-so’s first 100 days. That seems to be a fun activity among pundits who have nothing much better to do in mid-April. I’ve never cared much for those types of stories. What can you do in 100 days?

Since the dawn of the Internet Era, hundred day projects although not all the rage, are no longer the sole purview of political hacks and the hacks who follow politics. Everybody can get in on the action. In fact, there is an on-line, on-going, on point 100 Day Project site that claims “thousands of people all around the world commit to 100 days of creating” every year. The ninth annual project period started Feb. 13, but according to their FAQs, any day is a good day to start.

I was glad to hear that because I started a 100 day project on January 9, which means my hundredth day is here! I didn’t put much planning into my activity. To be honest, it wasn’t planned at all! And it certainly began before January 9 but that’s the day I’m going with because that’s the day the official word came to me – I had COVID. I already wrote about the first 30 days I got to participate in this project and I will say the more recent 70 days have been much more fun. Let me tell you what I’ve been doing.

As I said then, I was and am still working the exercises given me to strengthen the muscles that help the lungs do what lungs do, and to increase my stamina and balance. Because the weather has been typical Western Pennsylvania Spring (temperatures ranging from 16⁰F to 72⁰F over 3 days, with wind, rain, sleet and snow often in the same day), I didn’t mind staying inside, far away from the maskless horde. I really needed something to do besides the official physician ordered activity. I tried other exercises, and I can attest that riding a bike to nowhere really is as dull as it sounds. On the occasional day of sun and warmth (at the same time!) I would venture outside to saunter on paved surfaces (of those 100 days, only 4 of them were completely precipitation free making a walk through the woods more like a slog through a bog), but it seemed if I was going to amuse myself, it would be an indoor activity.

They say with 100 days you can reinvent yourself.  I’m not sure who they are and what they started with, but I didn’t think I would be reinventing anything, not even a better mousetrap, in the time I had before “Real Spring” would roll around. So … I decided to revive an old hobby. Art. Actually I revised an old hobby. Once upon a time I was a sketcher. Yes, one of those pretentious twerps who would sit outside with a pad and a soft lead pencil and do more than doodle but less than draw. After I confirmed to myself that I still understood light, shadow, perspective, and representation, I took the plunge and added color. I went full-on painting. With the not quite miraculous miracle of overnight shipping, I had all the supplies I needed to transform a 20 year old drawer into Grandpa Moses.

I’ll never be confused with an old master, and the Tate won’t be keeping a wing open for my work, but I have to say I have enjoyed the last 70 days of my 100 day project and will be continuing it even if the weather ever turns to spring. (It is snowing as I write this. Just FYI. Ugh.)

Don’t think you can develop a talent in a short amount of time in the later years of your life? Please, don’t tell me that. I’m having too much fun. I just really wish I didn’t have to get COVID to figure this out!

66085821713__28E72589-3E88-4A64-8EE8-529861CAAE10    My first piece: “Young woman among trees”

To Thine Own Art Be True

Michael Leave a comment

We recently spent a weekend being charmed and being charming at an absolutely charming spring wedding.  It was one of three wedding events we’re attending over nine days.  When it rains, it pours.

Fortunately, at this one, it did neither.  The sun shone over the outdoors ceremony and continued to the outdoors reception where the music was provided by one of our closest friends and one of the most talented individuals we know.  From ceremony through cocktails and into the dinner he charmed the attendees with his voice and music.  It was a pleasant addition to a delightful celebration.

On one of the other days of that same weekend we strolled the city parks areas in our town’s version of its annual arts festival.  Although it was pleasant, it was not delightful.  Of the almost two hundred artists selling their wares that day, we found a couple we had seen in the past whose works we enjoyed and found a couple new ones who might become favorites.  That puts about 98% of them in the “oh dear” category.  There’s a funny thing about artists, not everything they do is art to everybody.  And we think everybody is winning.

We love the arts and we won’t ever disparage someone from pursuing his or her dream.  Just realize that if that dream is taking vacation pictures on ‘round the world, tax deductible trips, we snap our own memories.  Or if the dream is a single vision in 42 sizes, few will want a collection.  It was unfortunate that these were some of the thoughts we had that day.

We missed a couple of our favorite artists.  Either they chose not to attend or were booked on some other days.  One is a charming lady who takes “local artist” quite seriously.  Everything she paints is local.  Cityscape, landscape, or still-life will be something you recognize but would never have thought of painting.  There is detail in her oil on canvas that those with a digital camera can’t find or don’t know where to look.   When one looks closely at her scenes it doesn’t take long to discover that almost every scene has her husband watching from inside.  Whether she is selling an original or one of her smallest prints, she’ll offer to include a personal inscription.

Another of our favorites not seen that day is on a mission to see that everybody who wants one of his pieces can have one of his pieces.  More than once we’ve heard him say to someone without cash in pocket, “Give me $10 and take it home.  Here’s an envelope, mail me a check.”  To those who can’t afford his work he says, “Pay me what you can every month, when it’s paid, it’s yours.”  He of We once asked if he ever regretted that.  “Never,” he said.  “Not even the one time someone gave me a ten, took my painting, and hooked me for the rest.”

And what does all this have to do with a weekend wedding.  It reminded us that Brother of She has that very troubadour booked for a party soon and is still waiting on his contract.  “You know me.  This is the part I like.  Being with the people.  I get around to the business part eventually but if I have you on my calendar, I’ll show up.  My word is my contract.”

That’s what we were thinking while we were walking the artists’ market and hearing the sound of nobody buying anything.  All the pieces were clearly marked.  All the catalogs and business cards were stacked neatly in the front corners.  But there wasn’t the passion that used to drive the artist who would stretch a canvas or test a microphone connection knowing that there might not be anything there now, but there will be soon.  Something very wonderful, very soon.

You have our word on it.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?