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Fall florals in the sketchbook

Fall Florals in the sketchbook

Bless her strong 93 year-old heart, Mamaw is in the hospital. In Beaumont, Texas, where she has lived her entire life, a strong fabric of friends and family binds her. She’s asking me how the garden is growing while she receives a blood transfusion, her voice thick under medication. I can’t really post much right now, but I’m thinking a lot about her. In fact, by strange coincidence the other day, I was thinking about her 50’s dining room drapes. I was thinking, I really like those drapes. I was thinking I’d do a few paintings about those funky retro drapes. I did a little painting on friday, while the boys watercolored in our kitchen. I’ll leave it here to remind myself of where I was going with my thoughts, later, when I get back to the computer. Do you ever feel so distracted? You have an idea, but need to attend to other things, and leave yourself a little note on your desk: “Paintings. Kitchen drapes. Autumn florals. watercolor? encaustic?”
I hope your weekend is more focused than mine!

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Sticky Situation

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breakfast at Ikea

Ikea has the cheapest breakfast outside of the home. In fifteen minutes we can be at the table, dunking french toast sticks into a bowl of maple syrup (not ideal, but Ford’s ideal, which he serves up himself) and feeling the warm sunlight pour through the floor-to-ceiling windows, penetrating the pores, the caffeine from the Swedish coffee slipping instantly into your bloodstream as if by DMSO. The eggs are synthetic but oddly satisfying, since we are always starving and they are always served steaming hot. There are beads of syrup on the table, collecting on their t-shirts, smeared between fingers. I sit there, across the table, sipping my coffee and wondering how they can stand their filth. Judging from the quiet, they couldn’t be more content with it.

Mama says Om.