Category Archives: autobiographic

Camp life painting 

An open air painting from art class. It is outdoor ed season here at Cedar Springs and the geocaching kids made it into the scene. 🙂 
I’m so excited for this summer.  I’ll be teaching two weeks of drawing camp this year.  Lord willing, and registration allowing. If it goes well, maybe a watercolor camp 2017…Dreams. ☺️

Advertisements

The illustrious Peter Brown

This guy is one of my heroes.  A fantastic author and illustrator, his children’s books are among my favorites.  You Will Be My Friend and the Curious Garden are just terrific books, tender and humorous in the best way.  Last night I had a chance to go see Peter speak at the U Bookstore in Seattle.  He is currently promoting his first middle grade novel, The Wild Robot.

This morning I read the first six chapters to my boys. The chapters are short and fun to read. All three boys are enthralled. Rozzum the robot has just scaled the cliffs of her wild rocky island, finally safe from the waves and sea…  I left them chanting “Read chapter seven! Read chapter seven!”

But mamma needs her coffee.

Actually, I still need my coffee, being a bit of a scatterbrain, I thought I should write this out while I had it in me.  The sun is out and it’s calling me. 🙂

peterbrown

I did this sketch of Mr. Brown while he talked.  The pink was added, a little hap hazardly at the end because a kid asked what his favorite color was.  It was pink.  And I loved why.  Just check out the enchanting cover on his new book and you’ll see. 

Do you see it? 

It truly is a great color.

You can learn more about the illustrious Peter Brown on his website: www.peterbrownstudio.com

Tiny baby paintings

We took the boys out on the mountain loop to find snow last weekend.   

   It’s been warming up steadily out here and it seems we made it out just in time. The snow was crusty and melting but we had fun all the same. 

Being out in nature, watching my kids play, often puts me in a mood to paint. Sometimes I’m able to maintain that mood and retain the energy until an opportune time. This was one of those blessed times. 

 

I realize I painted them looking like babies. They are growing so fast! But in my heart they will probably always be my little babies. ❤️

Selections from the sketchbook and life

We are moving again.  Have moved. Our house is smaller, but our hearts are fuller.  God is so good.  

 I hope to settle in this time.  To unpack the last box. I am well on my way, having exhumed the contents of a box three moves old.  Found a sweet teddy which my four year old has claimed as his own, tho it was first packed away before he was born. 

  

I wish I could share with you all the treasures, the joys, of answered prayers, of hope, of faith.  My God is faithful!  The One who made the smell of cedar groves and a boy’s heart beat with adventure.  He has called us to live, to know, to love, to serve.

  
 I think in heaven that I will look back clearly and sing all the more eloquently of my Savior’s work. Now I only glimpse His hand and then am dragged back into the fray.  Sitting quietly now, late at night with children sleeping, it is easy. Tomorrow there will be more boxes to unpack, bowls of cereal to pour, clothes to fold. To be in those moments also with a heart and mind towards Christ.  Well. That is the trick.  😉

Still God is good.

Mom, can I have a tattoo?

Today the request was for a Komodo Dragon. How could I refuse? The grandparents took him and his brothers to the zoo on Sunday.  Homespun temporary tattoos (ballpoint pen drawings on skin) are the norm around here.  Sometimes I do them, sometimes they do their own. At 6, 4 and 2 1/2 it can get pretty extensive. Full body crayola marker tats are quite common.   

It’s fun being a mom. 

A very present help

My youngest sister turned 13 this week.  She’s goofy and beautiful and I am just so glad to have her as my little bitty sis.

I made this painting for her.  

Thirteen is a big year.  (For me it was 17  years ago. Yow!) It was at that age that I first ran to God on my own in a time of trouble.  In that moment I found Him.  I met my faithful Jesus. The Lord my Peace.  What a refuge!   The teenage years are wrought with high emotions, hormones and just figuring stuff out.  So many fears.  Looking back the “troubles” I had then look trivial.  But I am so blessed to have met my Savior then.  That those minor troubles chased me into His arms. I found my Refuge in those early years.  There is no doubt in my mind that it was the mercy of God to draw me to Himself then.  Giving me time to grow firm in faith before I met with true tragedy.  When grief did finally find me, by the grace of God,  my Refuge was home, and nothing could shake me from Him.

This is what I pray for my siblings and for my children. That they will run to Jesus now.  That they will find Him faithful.  And like the wise man, build their house upon the Rock.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble.  Therefore we will not fear…” -Psalm 46:1-2a

10 years fly by

Yesterday was the 10 year anniversary of my brother Justin’s death.

I never quite know how to deal with anniversaries of this sort.  I miss him a lot.  He was my closest sibling.  He was a year older, and we went through a lot together before he was taken home to be with Jesus at 20.  He was amazing, funny and talented and I think he secretly thought the same of me.  Like the time he showed his best friend a few of my paintings without my knowing.  It felt good to know my big brother was proud of me.

It’s weird, after 10 years his name is still on the tip of my tongue.  I don’t know what to do with that.  We were close, but I’ve known siblings who were closer.   There are days and weeks when I don’t think of him.   There are days when I look at my kids and feel like crying because he didn’t get to see me be a mom.  I didn’t get to see him be a dad.   I used to just barge into his room and talk about whatever I was thinking about.  If something was bothering me, or whatever.  He’d meander around his room listening to me.  Sometimes he’d respond.  Sometimes he’d just shrug.  Sometimes I felt annoyed, sometimes reassured.

I draw owls for him because that was the animal he picked for himself.  I was a hen. That always made me laugh.

10years