A Gang of Cavorting Porpoises

Yesterday, Orchids was featured in the Painters in Modern Times group at RedBubble. I am grateful for the hosts’ support and encouragement!

I’m reading what is probably the best book I’ll read this year, In the Likeness of God, by Dr. Paul Brand and Philip Yancey (though I haven’t finished the book or the year yet).

I’m beginning to think one of the best gifts God gave us (to learn with, anyway) is analogy. Earlier this year, I read Mind Of The Maker, by Dorothy Sayers and learned a lot about God as Creator by looking at human creators/artists. In The Likeness of God is about the human body and what we can learn about the One who created it and also the Body of Christ, the Church.

I’ve never felt I was particularly talented at finding/creating analogies myself, but perhaps it is something I should pursue. I seem to learn best from them. Jesus’ parables are analogies. I wonder how one goes about learning how to work with analogies?

(Actually, I have a short story I tried to write once that was an analogy, but I never finished it. I have more ideas than I have self discipline, and the light bulb that goes on over my head is sometimes a strobe light.)

In any event, I find myself wanting to quote extensively from this book, but I try not to quote too much from any one book here. Right now, I’m only on page 175 (of 552, though it’s not difficult reading), and I’ve got 3 fantastic passages I’d love to share! Since I really should just pick one, I guess I’ll go with the fun simile (i.e., analogy, if you don’t split hairs):

I can understand the complex process of keratin producing rigid fingernails and horses’ hooves. But no amount of training will lessen my astonishment as I watch a single stalk of keratin push its way out of a follicle, grow erect and proud and shockingly unfurl as a peacock feather. What was chemistry becomes beauty. It is as if a brilliant Appalachian quilt springs from a rock, as if a desert suddenly births a gang of cavorting porpoises.

Descant

des·cant
(děs’kānt’) Pronunciation Key
n.

1. also dis·cant (dĭs’-) Music
    1. An ornamental melody or counterpoint sung or played above a theme.

    2. The highest part sung in part music.
2. A discussion or discourse on a theme.
(American Heritage Dictionary via dictionary.com)

If I had known I could hit those notes, perhaps I would have quit smoking long before 2006. That is not to say I sound good, just to say that I can make a sound several notes higher than I thought I could. Almost always the right note at the right time, even. And it wasn’t until now, the third day after my first successful descant experience, that I thought of shattering glass. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t do it. Shatter glass, that is. But who knows?

I’m still thinking about it because it was SO MUCH FUN. That . . . and I have a sore throat. The two aren’t related that I know of, except I probably got exposed to a bug the same day I discovered that I could hit high notes.

So I looked up vocal ranges on Wikipedia, and I’ve got nothing special. But it’s special to me. I hope God liked hearing those alleluias as much as I liked singing them. . . and that He’ll clear up this sore throat in a jiffy!

I’m painting orchids. The orchids are not as much fun as the descant was. However, I think I see how the painting is going to fall into place now and just need to take the time to make it happen.

Every time I say I’m painting a flower, I get this mental picture of me standing in a florist shop with a paintbrush, surrounded by white flowers that need color. Anyone else get this picture or is it just me?

Good Days

Today and yesterday were good days. Yesterday, we went to Atlanta and had a lovely visit with the in-laws and came home with treasures: A bag full of old lace, books, a silver teapot and spoon holder, and other such delights, some of which I am sure will be featured in future paintings and other projects.

Then I found a not-overpriced bottle of wine at a convenience store on the way home. I was surprised, but I think maybe the mark-ups inside the stores have gone down as gas prices have gone up. I didn’t even know metro Atlanta convenience stores had drinkable red wine at any price, so it was a double surprise.

Today, my Dogwood Tree painting placed in the top ten in a “Trees in Bloom” contest at RedBubble. They only announced first through fourth place and then displayed the top ten, so I placed somewhere between fifth and tenth. You’re welcome to go look and form your own opinions, if you’d like. I’m just delighted to be on the page!

We actually had a high of 72 today, much, much lower than it has been, so I dug out my MP3 player and took a walk. I’ve missed that.

Dogwood Tree


Dogwood Tree
A.M. Otwell, 2008
Acrylic on canvas
10 x 10 inches, gallery wrapped
Original $400

I finished this up last night. The square format and small size don’t really lend themselves to the types of prints available on RedBubble, so I’ve just made the original available; no prints this time.

This was from a reference photo I took earlier this year at Lake Oconee near Wallace Dam. The reference photo had a lot more white in it (the sky, the far bank) that competed with the blossoms, so I had to make a lot of changes. When I get this far from the “real” photo, it sometimes feels like I’m walking a tightrope and that I might lose my balance and end up with a not-very-good painting, but I’m pretty happy with the result this time around.

While I’ve been painting, I’ve been listening to a beautiful piece of music, Ave Generosa, over and over again, trying to learn it before the choir I just joined sings it Sunday morning. I haven’t been in a choir in a LONG time, and I’m really rusty at reading music, much less trying to sing in Latin! It’s so beautiful, though. Embedding has been disabled, but you can hear it on YouTube here. I’m not sure if the viewer can “see” any of the music in the painting, but I think this painting and that music are forever intertwined in my mind.

And, of course, it’s September 11. I was remiss in preparing a blog post for today, but I have NOT forgotten the day or those who died, and I am grateful for the heroic responses of emergency personnel that day and every day, as well as the soldiers who serve our country and protect our freedom. God has blessed this country richly with heroes, and I pray that He continues to bless the USA.

A Picture of Us


Jefferson and I near Wallace Dam at the end of March. (Thanks, Elizabeth!)

A Boat (and an idea or two . . . or a few)

When you look at a painting across a room, or even from just a few feet away, you get a different perspective than you do when you look at it on a monitor. It’s smaller in your field of vision.
Boat 2 by A.M. Otwell, 2008
And I’m starting to wonder why people take their artwork outside to photograph it. No one buys a painting and hangs it up outside!
Boat 3 by A.M. Otwell, 2008
However, I dutifully took this one outside and took the photo, then spent a lot of time correcting the color back to what it looks like hanging on a wall inside.

This one (Boat, A.M. Otwell, 2008, Acrylic on Canvas, 11 x 14) is spoken for, but just in case you wanted to buy Pacific Fireworks for exterior use, here’s a photo for you.

(Email for pricing if you’re interested. Paintings stored outdoors will deteriorate significantly faster than paintings stored indoors. Pine needles not included.)

Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention this was part of a “Different Strokes” challenge at WetCanvas, where a bunch of artists painted from the same reference photo. I chose to participate because I was drawn to the photo; it reminds me of the fishing trips I used to take with my grandfather, even though the boat really isn’t all that much like his.

A Little Housekeeping

I changed the appearance of the blog a little today, including fixing some problems. The “older post” and “newer post” links at the bottom of the pages are no longer reversed, and I moved that Amazon banner that takes too long to load sometimes to the bottom of the page. (I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of it because it’s an automated widget that’s supposed to advertise things that my readers would like to see, and I enjoy checking to see what new and interesting things it comes up with!)

Anyway, if you notice any other problems with the site or have any suggestions about how I could make it easier to enjoy, please feel free to let me know in the comments!

And You Think You’re Having A Bad Day?

Bad Day by A.M. Otwell, 2007
The knife was old, the butter was frozen, but who would have guessed the result? (And the day the photo was taken wasn’t too bad, just surprising.)

 
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