New in the Gallery

Don’t you love those errands that take you to an enjoyable part of town on gorgeous early fall days? Last week I dropped off some pictures at Little House Galleries in Homewood. Little House resides on Linden, one street over from Homewood’s main shopping destination. If you’re in the Birmingham area, go by and check them out! Tell my paintings I said, “Hi!” and grab a cup of coffee at O’Henry’s Coffee.

 

Bringing the Outdoors In

It started gradually. A little piece here. A little piece there. Next thing you know I have quite a collection.

I’m referring to my “bits of nature” that I just can’t seem to leave outside. I pick up every feather I come across, every mossy bit of fallen bark, every cool and unusual stick. I actually went outside in a downpour recently to “rescue” a perfect clump of moss that I had seen earlier in the driveway and had meant (and then forgotten) to pick up after depositing the groceries in the house.

It’s ok. I’m an artist. We’re allowed these little eccentricities and I quite like them- both my eccentricities and my collection.

Here are just a few of the many paintings inspired by my outdoor finds:

Please contact me for purchase. If you like these, you might also like the mixed-media work found in this post.

My Little Treasure’s Treasures

They’re everywhere. They tumble out of pockets, they rolls with the broom out from under furniture, they’re in almost every allowable container in or outside the house.

IMG_0272

Rocks. My little girl loves them. And I’m not talking exotic or particularly beautiful rocks. I’m talking gray driveway gravel, pea gravel, garden rocks. She collects them, she gives them as gifts, she plays with them, she even sometimes bathes them. She plays with other toys, too; I just can’t help but smile at her penchant for rocks… I admit it’s partly because it reminds me of my fondness for mossy bits of bark. I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Just a little crush

Gallery

This gallery contains 6 photos.

I’m a little giddy… a little obsessed even, over something new. It’s slick, almost plasticky, and as you can see, somewhat transparent (which could lend itself to all kinds of cool tricks). Here are some of the mixed-media pieces I’ve … Continue reading

The Saga of the Birds

Ok, here is the promised saga of the baby birds mentioned a couple of posts ago:

 

IMG_9852I had a decorative basket hanging on a wall outside next to the front door. A family of pretty little brown birds built a nest in it and pretty soon a constant chorus 

of chirping accompanied our comings and goings through the door. One day last week my little girl and I came home from running errands and she excitedly ran around our driveway picking up rocks (she’s obsessed). I heard her say, “Oh!” I looked over to see an oddly shaped pinkish thing on the concrete in front of her. As she reached toward it I realized it was a tiny, featherless, motionless baby bird. “Don’t touch it!” I barked, then putting on false calm and cheer I said, “It’s a baby bird. He’s taking a nap in the sun. Let’s leave him alone.”  I scanned the area and realized the nest had been destroyed. Turning to go inside I almost stepped on a second chick. This one clearly still alive. Heart pounding I took my toddler inside, convinced her that we did not need to take the baby birds a blanket for their nap, and distracted her with Cinderella while I tried to figure out what to do. After consulting with my husband and leaving a message with the bird rescue at Oak Mt. State Park, I put plastic bags on my hands (we didn’t have any gloves) and stepped outside.

Approaching the first baby bird, I knelt down. He was so tiny. I expected to have trouble picking him up. However he craned his head on his too thin little neck toward my hand and actually seemed to do his best to work his way into my palm. I can’t in good conscious say he was cute… He was bald with huge closed eyes, however it was odd to me the similarities he seemed to share with fetal humans. We all start out pretty scrawny and ugly and I felt a maternal sort of protectiveness for him. I put him back in the nest, then went to help his sibling who I thought was already dead. I was wrong, though! He, too, craned toward my hand.

The rest of the afternoon I worried over them. Their mother flew back and forth to the nest and I thought maybe they’d be ok. A lady from Oak Mt. called me back and told me I’d done the right thing (and, for future reference, the gloves were unnecessary. The whole thing about your scent making the mother abandon them is a myth) and that the mother could tell whether or not they would make it.

They didn’t make it. I confess I cried. So yesterday, despite other things I needed to do during my little girl’s nap, I had a bird funeral. I put them under the tree where I normally saw their mother. Walking into the garage to put away my spade and gloves, I heard a familiar chirping. I looked up to see the edges of a nest high in the rafters near a space where the roof and wall don’t quite connect, leaving an opening to the outside. New babies! In my garage! I smiled.

This weekend I think I’ll buy some flowers to plant in the basket.