FREAKY FELINES

One of my favorite things is to wander the aisles at antique malls. And, of course, to pluck and purchase treasures along the way. I know many share this sentiment. But my favorite things to pluck are interesting and unique handmade objects--hook rugs, paintings, clay pots, embroidery, carvings, whatever.

One day not too long ago, while on a little stop inside a local mall of other people's goodness, I came upon this thing. It's what appears to be a hand carved wooden plate with an oddly unfinished collection of cats painted on it. While the cats pretty much freak me out (they looked deranged or drunk, I'm not sure which), they're also supremely intriguing. I can imagine their creator sitting over this piece of wood, dreaming up an image and then agonizing over the details--the composition, the pattern of the fabric, those freaky felines.

Currently, this masterpiece hangs in our extra bedroom, which is also known as the Folk Art Room. It's the perfect place for this thing, of course. I just wish I knew more about it. Or do I?

STILL LIFE IN PARKING LOT

Shot this on the walk to my office this morning. I was taken by the colors, of course, and the odd juxtaposition of objects.

This image reminds me of my August painting. The colors are, of course, similar. But you might be surprised to learn that the linear pattern in this painting was inspired the garden hose in our driveway one hot August day. The fig is part of a childhood memory. We had a fig tree in our backyard, and each summer ripe figs would fall to the ground. I have vivid memories of walking through the grass barefoot, figs oozing between my toes with every step.

SAVE THE DATE

TWO GIRLS WITH URNS

The other day I made a post about a postcard that I purchased on a trip to Sicily. While writing that post, I realized the resemblance the postcard has to a painting I did some years ago. Well, here's that painting.

Back in about 1997 I met with some folks who wanted an Italian-themed mural painted in their dining room. This painting was one of the sketches for the job. I didn't end up doing the mural, so I mounted this painting onto wood and presented it to my mother as a gift. It still hangs in her house in Texas. (Thanks for the photo, Mom!)

It's weird to look at this again because, as I've mentioned before, I rarely--if ever--do figurative work. It's also weird to look at this because the similarities between this painting and the postcard of the Sicilian girl are down right eerie. Their skirts are the same color. Their tops contain the same colors. They're both holding an urn on high. There has to be some full-circle kind of connection here, but I'm not quite sure what that is. Perhaps I was destined to go to Sicily. I hope I'm destined to go back.

DAD WITH A DONKEY

Okay, so back in May I was in North Carolina, where I visited some donkeys and absolutely fell in love. Then I met the wonderful Katherine Dunn, artist and mother to Pino the donkey. Visiting with Katherine and Pino further cemented my new found donkey love. Then, in July, I was in Houston, where I was surrounded by all things donkey. So for the past few months I have been obsessed. Can you blame me?

So imagine my surprise when, upon going through some of my dad's old photographs, I found this. He must have been about eight or ten years old when this was taken. I have absolutely no idea where he was, though. All I know is that my dad is standing next to a donkey, which makes me even more crazed for these animals. And it makes me miss the fact that my dad's not here for me to ask him about the details of this photograph. It will have to remain a donkey mystery.

Some neighbors down the road just had some donkeys appear in their pasture about a month ago. And then some friends happened to be chatting up their exterminator (or maybe he was chatting them up), and they came to find that he happens to know where to get some donkeys in Oxford. No, I won't be buying completely on impulse--not this time, anyway. We'll do our research. We'll visit the donkeys. And one day, we will be parents to some donkeys of our own.

Speaking of donkeys, don't forget about Pino's Pies! I still have some pie photographs for sale in my Etsy shop, which I am offering as a fundraiser for Pino, his yummy pies, and the wonderful outreach program he has started. Love you, Pino! (Thanks Dana in NYC for your order! Enjoy your photograph!)

A FLOOD OF MEMORIES

Hurricane Dean barrelled through our honeymoon spot this week. In March of 2005, Kurt and I spent a week in Xcalak, Quintana Roo, Mexico. Xcalak is as far south as you can go on the Yucatan peninsula before you're in Belize. It's a sleepy little village filled with sandy streets, colorful houses, and friendly people. And that's about it. Just about the only reason gringos even go to Xcalak is to dive the Great Maya Reef, the second largest barrier reef in the world.

The picture above is from that trip. I spent an entire day just walking around the town, taking photographs. I, of course, fell in love with all of the bright colors and the hand painted signs. So much so, that this very photograph inspired part of the painting below.






















"Superior" is actually a still life of tomatoes form our garden, sitting in a nest of turquoise bowls in our old kitchen. I painted this scene not long after our return from Mexico. The bright turquoise immediately reminded me of being in Xcalak, so I decided to make a little nod to our honeymoon by including the word "Superior" in the composition. Superior is, of course, a brand of Mexican beer. Taken out of context, though, it could mean all kinds of things. I love that.

I've gone through this honeymoon album a couple of times this week, wondering just how much damage Hurricane Dean might have done to the place where we began our marriage. My hope, of course, is that the damage wasn't too severe and that life gets back to normal down there very soon. And I hope Maria's Super Mini is still standing strong.

JUST A LITTLE SOMETHIN'

A quick post to introduce you to this beautiful Sicilian girl. I moved offices yesterday and, as I was packing and moving and arranging, I rediscovered this little gem in the piles of things and stuff that I've accumulated in my workspace over the years. I got this postcard on a trip to Sicily that I made, oh, two years ago now. Sicily is an absolutely incredible part of the world--the scenery, the people, the food. The food! If you ever get the chance or the wild hair or enough money in the bank to make a trip on over that way, it would be well worth your while. Actually, you can see a few photographs from my trip right here.

And now that I'm staring at this postcard, I'm realizing that I did a painting awfully similar to this about ten or so years ago. It's hanging in my mom's house in Texas. If I can talk my mom into taking a picture of it (yep, it's one of those pieces that was never documented), I'll be sure to share it here.

Hmm. And I happen to be reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love at the moment, as well. The first chapter is about the four months she spent in Italy. Eating.

THEY'RE RED HOT

I've slowly come to realize that I haven't talked about any of my new work in a while. Mostly, that'd be because, well, I don't really have any new work. It's been hard--and too hot--for me to get into the studio lately. Believe me, as the bumper sticker says, I would rather be painting.

But thinking about this, I remembered that my summer hasn't been completely devoid of time spent in the studio. I managed to paint this guy, "They're Red Hot." I was asked to do a painting about Delta hot tamales by a friend, who was going to give it as a gift to her boyfriend. I didn't mention it while it was in progress because it was a top secret mission; the painting was to be a birthday surprise. But now the birthday has come and gone, everyone is happy with the painting, and it now graces a wall in New Orleans.

There are a few of you out there who know how timely this little tamale post is. That's all I'm going to say about that. Know, though, that people just can't seem to get enough of the hot tamales they have down here in the Mississippi Delta.

For those of you wanting to know a little bit more about the imagery, I'll give you a quick tour.

Building: This is a drawing of Joe's Hot Tamale Place in Rosedale, which is, in my opinion, the most iconic tamale stand in the Delta. Plus, it's a great place, with great people and, yes, great tamales.

Can: When you order a couple dozen tamales to go, a lot of places will pack them in #10 aluminum cans covered with foil. It's pretty handy, since the cans--ideally, of course--don't leak, and you can put the can right on the stove to reheat what's inside.

Hot sauce bottle: Some people in the Delta like to make their hot tamales a little bit hotter by adding some hot sauce. I prefer to eat them the way they come.

Cracker: Some people in the Delta like to put bites of a tamale on a Saltine and then add hot sauce. I don't. Crackers take up too much room that could be used for tamales.

Beer bottle: Obvious, isn't it?

Playing cards: I thought this was a great way to incorporate the numbers six and one (the Ace), which refer to Highway 61 that follows the entire length of the Delta and has many tamale stands dotting its roadside. Hot tamales can also be found in Tunica, Mississippi, which is north Mississippi's gambling mecca.

Number 12: One dozen.

Numbers 1 and 2: To signify two of the many iconic tamale stands in the Delta, Joe's (No. 1) and Doe's Eat Place (No. 2), in no particular order. Really.

"They're Red Hot": Reference to Robert Johnson's 1936 song about hot tamales.

I don't know about you, but I'm ready for some tamales.

WAITING AT THE MEMPHIS AIRPORT

I headed to Memphis yesterday afternoon to pick up Kurt, who was returning from a week-long visit to Michigan. As I waited for him to show up at baggage claim number two, I was awed by the glowing three above where I was sitting. And, of course, those hot pink chairs.

Yesterday was an interesting day to be at the Memphis airport. As you may or may not know, yesterday was the 30th anniversary of Elvis's death. This date is recognized each and every year by throngs of Elvis fans, who flock to Graceland to participate in Elvis Week. The week culminates with a candlelight vigil held in front of Graceland. It's really an event that defies description. It must be experienced. I experienced the candlelight vigil a mere two weeks after landing in Mississippi in 2001. It was a night I'll not soon forget.

All of this is to say that there were more than a few Elvis fans arriving in the Memphis airport yesterday. And with the Elvis fans come the Elvis impersonators, who were, of course, easy to spot. Imagine if the airline lost their baggage. It must be a terrible thing for an Elvis impersonator to lose a sequined jumpsuit.

HEAVEN

Nope, this isn't my kitchen. It belongs to a man in Kentucky, whom I interviewed a couple of years ago. I just ran across this photograph again, as I was going through some image files. I remember asking if it would be okay if I photographed his kitchen. He, of course, laughed but then told me to go right ahead. And if memory serves, I think he quickly credited his late wife with the color scheme. I imagine that he kept all of her favorite little tchotskies right where she left them (those pink Dixie cups!). And the tulips in the window are for her.

CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH

I passed this couch on my drive home yesterday. Maybe it's heavy trash pick-up time in Lafayette County because there was another couch in a ditch down the road a piece. But this one, as you can see, was situated at the turn off for Bay Springs Baptist Church. Perhaps the couch is strategically placed in wait for those contemplating a conversion.

Across the highway from this rust colored couch is a rust colored horse. The horse seemed to be looking longingly at the couch.

I would very much like to see a horse sitting on a couch.

Which reminds me of something else I saw along the highway once. There's a little house that's tucked in off of the road and down in a gully of sorts. The entire front yard is lined with what looks like about a four foot tall wooden fence. From the road, the outline of the fence is kind of amoebic looking. There's no grass in the yard, but there is a swing set. And one day, while driving home, I happened to glance over to see a black horse standing in the yard next to the swing set.

Is there something about horses that I don't know?

TALL IN THE SADDLE

We went horseback riding when we were in Colorado a couple of weeks ago. It's been a while since I rode horse. It seems like I rode one every summer that I was in Girl Scouts. But then for the past oh, I'd say fifteen years or more, no horses. What happened?

But then I remembered. The last time I rode a horse was in the fall of 2002. I was working on a mural in downtown Drew, Mississippi. I had begun work early in preparation for my students' arrival later on that day. As I was setting up my ladder and unloading paints, a man rode by on his beautiful brown horse. Quite a sight. He stopped to chat. He introduced me to his horse, Peanut. And then he let me take Peanut for a ride down Main Street. It was a memorable moment, to say the least. So much so, in fact, that I went home and painted a Peanut's portrait.
























So it was no small coincidence that I rode a horse in Colorado recently, and "Peanut" was the Painting of the Week upon my return.

I hope it's not too long until I'm standing tall in the saddle again.

A WALK IN THE WOODS

I spent part of yesterday walking the trails that meander through our woods. It's been a while since I made that walk. The heat and the bugs have kept me mostly indoors. But, as I found out, a lot has been going on back there.

We lost one of the dead trees that had been standing so regally along the edge of our marsh. That tree was also a place that many bats called home. I'm sure the fallen hollowed trunk is home to many new tenants, but I do hope the bats haven't moved too far away. They keep the giant Mississippi mosquitoes at bay.

Flowers are blooming, and there's a dense canopy of leaves that cover the trail. The trees offer much needed shade from the hot Mississippi sun. Even so, it's like a sauna back there.

Our creek is practically bone dry. A combination of a rain-free July and our friend, Mr. Beaver, down the way a piece, are to blame. But Jackson was just as happy to bound through the sandy creek bottom, water or no water. Still, there were a couple of pools tucked here and there, where he stopped to cool his belly. I came close to doing the same.

PAPEL PICADO FOR POPS

I think I've mentioned before that I am obsessed with the Mexican folk art tradition of papel picado. Until very recently, we had two papel picado banners hanging along the porch of our house. I got them for our Cinco de Mayo fiesta. Four months later, the tissue was faded and a couple of the flags were torn, so I finally decided to take them down.

After my father died, I was asked to make the invitation for his memorial service. Because my dad loved Mexico (he traveled there often and stayed for months at a time. He also spent a semester with the Mexican Navy, while a student at the U.S. Naval Academy) and because his memorial service was going to be more of a celebration than a solemn occasion, I immediately decided to make a papel picado cut-out in his honor. The image above is the final piece. It's not made out of tissue paper; I didn't have the patience for that. But I tried to stay true to the idea in every other way, and I am pleased with the outcome. And actually, the entire process was pretty cathartic. I thought of my dad with every cut.

Papel picado banners are generally put to use during holidays or special celebrations. There's not a holiday coming up, and the memorial celebration has passed. Still, I'm ready for some new papel picado banners to grace our front porch.

MORE MAGRITTE

I can never get too much of Magritte. The image featured here, L'Oeil (The Eye), happens to be a color etching that he did in 1968.

I was reminded of this image as I was doing some window shopping on etsy. Jeweler Margaux Lange makes some spectacular work, using the body parts of a favorite childhood toy, Barbie. It's incredible stuff, and I am most impressed with her craftsmanship. And, of course, her earrings that are pictured here remind me of Magritte. Make sure to visit the Portfolio section of her website. Wow. Nice work, Miss Margaux.

FIVE RAINBOWS

I'm back in Mississippi after seven days in Colorado. We were there for my father's memorial service and scattering of his ashes at his favorite fishing spot on the Gunnison River.

On the first morning of our camping trip outside the town of Gunnison, we woke up to see a double rainbow over the mountains. I don't think I've ever witnessed a double rainbow before. It was spectacular.

Later that day, Kurt and I went fishing together at my dad's favorite fishing spot along the river. I didn't catch anything, but Kurt caught three Rainbow Trout. Dad would be proud. And yes, they were tasty.

On our last night in Colorado, we traveled to Woodland Hills to have supper with my dear old friend Casey. We witnessed yet another double rainbow on our drive home that evening.

So I guess there were really seven rainbows. Lucky us. Beautiful rainbows.