tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47227223156608315382024-02-18T23:51:24.102-08:00Eye With A ViewGail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-34594693305502873382012-12-13T14:53:00.003-08:002012-12-13T14:53:58.616-08:00Well. Lots has transpired since I last posted. My mother died and thus endeth my monthly trips to California to look after her. She was 93 and of course I knew it would come...but geez you are never really ready. I miss her. We were close and she was exuberant, curious, optimistic, and in a constant quest for knowledge til the end. <br />
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So now, back to work. The gallery where the show will be was very kind in moving the date to February so I have time to finish. It's good to be back in the paint. The work has become looser and freer. Nothing wrong with that. More relaxed maybe. But there is lots to do. I'm aiming for 12 large pieces, 12 half size, and 12 plus little ones. All arched, church like, in an homage to nature and inspired by the droughts, floods, and storms that have caught our attention. Finally.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-47736663485829671632012-09-01T10:55:00.001-07:002012-09-01T10:55:31.483-07:00We have been lucky with rain this summer....the trees live! <br />
No taking it for granted though. Only have to look northward to see drought and southeastward to see flood. And still we drive big cars and waste everything.<br />
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However. I'm back to speak to the project I'm wallowing in. (In which I'm wallowing). I am now well on with my trees/nature on arched window like wood. There will be twelve large ones at the end....for me recalling the books of hours that I have seen reproduced in books on medieval art. There is always that startling blue and some sort of reference to the common thread of man and nature. There will also be six of a half size, and another six or more of small ones maybe devoted to insects. I'm excited about this....I love to work in a theme, a thread and follow it along.<br />
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Hot in the studio of course. Mostly can only work in the mornings. And then there are still the monthly trips to Calif to see after my mom. But it's like concentrated orange juice. It works.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-14231711899734878412012-07-13T14:43:00.001-07:002012-09-01T11:06:12.513-07:00Houston has returned to a rainful summer. No complaints here.<br />
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Paintings of trees, nature, nurture continue to be my focus for now although I guess I finally really see how out of the loop I am, feeling more and more like an outsider artist, because of what I paint and how I do it. I've been painting since 1964, and due to life's ups and downs never quite finished my art education. Although for two decades I taught it. Life is funny.<br />
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I'm working on a solo show for January, 2013....yet I sometimes dream about having a yard sale with the work that is still hanging around in the studio and the gallery. I think maybe many people feel this way at some point. Just a little tired, maybe. Still flying to California once a month to look after my mom....guess I feel a little disjointed. Ah, crap. Just venting. Summer blahs.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-9441925407779075242012-05-01T18:54:00.000-07:002012-05-01T18:54:55.955-07:00Tree hugger meAh. After turning my back momentarily on still life and anonymous people, I find I am embracing trees. Tree hugger me. But there is a reason. We went thorough such a drought from hell last year, that Houston lost tens of thousands of trees. Pine, magnolia, oak, all kinds. The Lost Pines of Bastrop burned black and seared until there was nothing left. And like a lot of people who count on nature to lift their spirits in these difficult times, I found myself in something of a deep blue funk. Trees are being replanted and for that we are supportive and grateful. But, it will be a generation before our parks are restored to what they were. There are, to be sure, lots and lots of trees in this very green town, but now there are also many empty places in between. And the rain has come back. <br />
So. Painting trees, fish, insects and birds is restoring me. Looking for serenity I guess. And it's working.<br />
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Peace. Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-75436279992686319632012-03-01T13:17:00.001-08:002012-03-01T13:18:34.836-08:00concessions to getting olderDon't know what happened to winter here in the bottom of Texas....we didn't get the freezing temps to kill off the mosquitoes....oh well, the upside is that the plants are happy. And I'm still in the studio painting without gloves.<br />
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I guess I'm back to painting a few people after thinking I was back in love with still life. Never say never. There is still much to be resolved in the switch from oil to acrylic. Still not my favorite medium, still trying to make friends with it, still struggling. I am finding that the wetter and faster I paint the happier I am. What I really miss is the Liquin I used to use with oil. What a lovely slider that stuff was, if only it didn't make me sick. Just a wee bit of petroleum gunk in it. Guess that's really not a good thing to breathe.<br />
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Getting older is finally interrupting my consistent bravado and confidence. It truly is getting harder to stretch good size canvases. Not that I'm giving up, just swearing more and running achy fingers under the warm tap when I come inside. AND....here's the big one: I just got a three wheel bike. OK, actually it is a kind of tricycle, but it has a big basket in the back and I can carry stuff. I had to give up my regular bike when I had a knee replacement....and then lost all confidence in balance. So, what the hell, I'm now going to be that old lady zipping around on the red three wheeler. <br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-23391016478825214192012-02-02T20:34:00.000-08:002012-02-02T20:39:13.095-08:00still life out of style<br />
Whatever the crazy world has been up to, I've been in the studio making still life paintings like they never went out of style. And they did. But what the hell. For me it's like knitting, not that I do that, not that there's anything wrong with that, but working on still life makes me ok with the world while I'm doing it.<br />
Like there is only so much you can stand of politics, bad news, and crumby weather. Still lives make me ok. Better than booze or pills, I say. I mean, the props just sit there and give stability to the situation. Unless they are Clementine oranges, in which case I'm trying to paint them fast before they change their form and start to shrivel. At least I'm not painting sides of beef like Soutine did.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-10718464260482780742012-01-18T14:19:00.001-08:002012-01-18T14:19:37.959-08:00studio copper pot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-53615226996783785072012-01-18T14:12:00.000-08:002012-01-18T14:14:12.345-08:00little satisfactionsThe days grow longer already. Perhaps more noticeable in the places I inhabit....Texas and California. It's nice not to be driving in the dark at 5pm. Little satisfactions. The structure of bare trees made visible by the season; the low slant of afternoon light like a spotlight on humble things giving them life; people taking turns at a non working signal; smiles from strangers; falling asleep with a book on my lap. <br />
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I promise I'm not about to break out into song....but it's good to not be rushing around so much and take in the view, the moment, the breath ....right now.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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<br />Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-7526908733201450882012-01-04T07:21:00.000-08:002012-01-04T07:21:45.700-08:00soothing still lifeNew Starts. Painted over a partly done canvas and did a large still life.....something I could control, to bring in the new year. Combining the hills of California and some objects in the studio. Objects I've painted for many years. Old friends. Objects standing in for people. An avoidance of emotion. A way to deal with the death of a friend, the end of a year, the prospect of more drought, the calendar turning pages faster than I can count.<br />
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Painting soothes the soul, erases the worry, allows my mind to wander in small jerks forward and backward without edit. <br />
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More still life for a while I think.<br />
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Peace.<br />
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Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-23856872048137746762011-12-02T07:08:00.000-08:002011-12-02T07:42:03.908-08:00timeDecember. Houston. Cool, cold even. The difficult summer forgotten. We seem to dwell only in the present where we are ok, or not ok. I find myself thinking forward when in uncomfortable moments: "in one hour, I will be home (or through, or out of the airplane, or done with the dentist, or off the freeway) and 'this' will be over". I helps. <br />
I am now of the age where in my mind I can travel long distances through time. Can even get a bit lost there in the loops and small passages. Some to savor, some to spit out, and some....to put in trunk, in the basement and slam the lid shut.<br />
But, it seems, we must live in the present moment and make it count by being aware of it. Tick tick. It slips away.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-86920500544601187082011-11-13T16:01:00.000-08:002011-11-13T16:01:36.561-08:00heaps of good foodI am here in Palo Alto, home of Stanford who just ended their 11 game winning streak to Oregon...not that I usually know anything about football, but it was hard to ignore all the RV's and tail gating cars and trucks with people clad in either red and white or green and white.<br />
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No, I am attending my mother's Endgame...although she's no where near that, really. I can no longer take her out to lunch or on long drives as there is too much discomfort for her in the car. So I now bring her tasty morsels to alleviate the boredom of bland assisted living food. Heaped on her plate are:<br />
figs; kiwi berries; blueberries; strawberries; sliced kiwi; sliced apple; a lady apple; stone wheat crackers; cheese polenta (if it's not turkey or chicken salad); fig cookies; and to drink, S. Pellegrino. She loves it...the taste, and the vision of all that color.<br />
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And the color here in Palo Alto is weeks ahead of Houston....so the trees are glorious. And although it is quite nice here and my mother is doing well, I can't wait to get home again to He Who Snores, but I love him anyway.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-11831277217646851782011-11-11T19:21:00.000-08:002011-11-11T19:21:22.137-08:00standing proudMy, my, my. What a lot of time we have to mull over what we post in haste. I'm so over my out burst about the bumpy ride through my household relationship with the person who snores. It was only a day or so before said fine person was willing and able to perform household duties and heroics. He is, in fact, redeemed.<br />
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I don't regret my fuming, as it led to greater things. We need to protest on occasion. Be it on Wall Street, in Oakland, or at the local tax board. We need to have our say and not get run over by bigger folks. I think of the original tea party, the one that actually threw tea over the edge of the boat, and I think of the Vietnam war, and perhaps most poignantly, the protests for Civil Rights. People, regular people, stood up and were counted, and change was made to happen.<br />
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Peace out, y'all.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-14165925246895381722011-11-01T16:33:00.000-07:002011-11-01T16:33:17.410-07:00snoring irritating menThis has nothing to do with painting, except that it has been one of my subjects for the last 35 years. <br />
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The painful subject is relationships. Two adults living together and creeping up on each other's last nerve. I mean, come on, I almost never complain here. But:<br />
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The toilet runs and has to be babied in order to work.<br />
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The sidewalk and walkway to the house have been uprooted by the oak tree and will cause someone to sue us for millions of dollars when they trip and die!<br />
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The house has not been painted for decades and the roof is surely due to fall in.<br />
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And the other person in this house SNORES LIKE A FREIGHT TRAIN.<br />
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I have painted some funny, some poignant, some soulful, some outrageous, some angry relationship paintings for years and years. Now you know it's based in life. Arggh. And most of us live it.<br />
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Oh, yeah, and Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-12022998370524874022011-10-24T10:46:00.000-07:002011-10-24T10:46:01.978-07:00the quiet placeA little cooler now in Texas. Had a chance to see some of the scorched land left by the wildfires here lately. But ....although many sad and horrific things are on my television, alerts on facebook, in the newspaper, I choose not to paint from there right now. I am painting from an interior place and hope that it communicates the quiet sadness, the quiet optimism, the joy of books and memories and those things that are from the personal two square feet that I inhabit.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-7883819816142790932011-09-10T16:43:00.000-07:002011-09-10T16:43:30.590-07:00New wallpaper paintings and no damn Ipad.What a difficult summer! No rain here, too much there. And there. Well, the calendar says it's pretty much over, reality says it isn't. <br />
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But onward. I now use the IPad for reading books and playing games. Doing art on it turned out to be not my cuppa. Too complicated. I'm a simple soul and real paint on real surfaces works best for me. But now I have a fun companion to take on the plane on my monthly trips. <br />
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The painting is going well in my weeks in between trips to California. I removed some of the wallpaper from my mother in law's house to use as collage. I've done this sort of thing before but not with 60 yr old wall paper that is crumbly and fragile. I was so excited I stretched up five or six good size painting and slapped on the wallpaper willynilly. Then with each piece I have to figure out how to make it work.. Fun. Ignorance sometimes makes the path easier. Except in the case of the IPad.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-81305349564256283782011-07-18T15:30:00.000-07:002011-07-18T15:30:43.970-07:00learning to speak IpadWell, I went and did the unthinkable. I bought an Ipad with the intent of joining the 21st century. I get along great with my simple cell phone and my computer, but doing art work on the Ipad is going to take training wheels and a good deal of time. As an artist, like many artists, especially old ones like me, tech stuff, I find VERY difficult. Part of the problem, the biggest part, is that I'd rather not read instructions. I mean I don't even know how to work the coffee maker, as I usually only have coffee when someone is in town...then they have to make it. The other part of the problem is that nothing is simple anymore. Like the tv. No more easy off and on. No knobs. Yeah, yeah, I know there haven't been knobs since like 1975, but even the remotes were simpler then. <br />
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So, I'm learning....but at dowager snail speed. Meantime, I'm working on some good sized paintings that incorporate my mother in law's wall paper. Collage and paint. That I understand. <br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-21762880875525163192011-07-08T18:26:00.000-07:002011-07-08T18:26:07.091-07:00to ipad or not.It finally rained here. Grateful us. Only downside is the mosquitoes are back. And I'm back working in the studio on drought banishing paintings. Can't help but be influenced by what is happening around me. I'm considering buying an ipad......it looks like fun and maybe could do sketches when I'm off to Calif every month. But, it means getting my brain cells around more technology...can I get them out of retirement and into the moment? It remains to be seen. But I could also play movies on the plane and read a book that doesn't weigh 3 lbs. Surely this is a good move. Hummm, thinking about it....almost ready to do it. <br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-86847172471173670012011-06-21T05:35:00.000-07:002011-06-21T05:35:46.068-07:00the morning afterIt was one of those nights when the air conditioner was broken in the record heat wave in June. When reading, nor listening to my MP3 nor watching tv would coerce me into sleep. Sleeping felt like what I must do, knowing the morning would bring the monthly trip to California. But the mind is a child when there is a must do required. Waking after pieces of sleep felt like I was all apart. My molecules were spinning off in different directions and causing denial and confusion amongst the body parts. Even the stomach had something to say. The kindest remedy was to sit in the reading chair downstairs, doing nothing, musing delicately so as not to disturb the balance of molecules attempting to realign, and watching the sun begin to dance across the wood and textiles in the room as a new day began.<br />
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And now, contemplating toothpaste and shower, I know that my morning ahead, in the sky, watching the earth roll by, I will sleep on the plane and all will be well.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-83090251863080819582011-06-15T12:31:00.000-07:002011-06-15T12:31:40.388-07:00hot hot hotNeedless to say, it's hot. We are in a record breaking drought in a place that is normally sub-tropical. Scary thoughts seep into one's mind when thinking of tornadoes, floods, droughts and fire....all happening at the same time.<br />
While doing the good and hopeful things like not running the water while doing the brushing of the teeth, and taking canvas bags to the grocery store and keeping the A/C as high as possible, I am making every attempt to remain optimistic and buoyant. Getting to be an old fart has the benefit of having lived through a lot of the debris of life and knowing that we'll get through it.<br />
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Meanwhile, painting, reading, watching and listening and hoping for the best.<br />
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Peace. And maybe a little rain?Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-58778117935988217552011-05-28T16:13:00.000-07:002011-05-28T16:13:21.741-07:00there is no place like homeHouston is heating up for the summer. It happens fast, like someone opening the glory hole at a glass blower's. One day it's a balmy 72 degrees and the next: 95 and sucking the air out of you. Then we all say: Why do we live here??? I think the answer is habit. We all visit places where the weather is fine, but then we come home and rationalize. I count it on my fingers:<br />
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October through May....IF we are lucky....that is eight months of good weather, right? No snow, no ice. Well once in a while. And if I'm honest it's usually November through the first half of May for good weather. And once in a while, Christmas is scorching. And no place is perfect. We do have the occasional hurricane. <br />
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But we stay and we come back because of family and friends and habit. This is where we dug in and got comfortable. There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no place like home.<br />
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Peace and coolness.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-68842423515308628202011-05-19T17:01:00.000-07:002011-05-19T17:01:23.718-07:00Looking after mom.Back in California visiting what my mother calls the "loony bin, you know the one that flew over the cuckoo's nest" and she knows it well. She resides there in the loony bin with Lewy Body Dementia....not regular dementia or Alzheimer's but the really loopy one complete with hallucinations and delusions. Most of the people in her very assisted living abode have various forms of dementia and many have Alzheimer's. Most do not carry on conversations. My mother like to talk. But not to them. And worry about what people think ....but mostly about what they are thinking about her. I believe this comes under the gray umbrella of paranoia. She has been in this facility for the past 26 months. And I visit 2000 miles one way and 2000 miles back once a month for a week or a little more.<br />
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I would like to think that I am a caring person....I guess I am....but honestly there is some guilt that drives the plane here every month. And that need to "please your mother". Much as we love our mothers, there is always that tone of voice, that can bring us to our knees. In my case it's " GAaaailllll." my name drawn out in long and judgemental syllables. And she worries about me. And that is so sweet, so how can I bitch and complain. Well, for one thing she's not reading my blog, so that's how.<br />
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Peace Peace .....please, Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-12392836054981916792011-04-18T15:27:00.000-07:002011-04-18T15:27:40.878-07:00Studio cleanup so I don't have to paint.Moving things around in the studio is, according to mood:<br />
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1. Destructive.<br />
2. Invigorating.<br />
3. Hair Pulling.<br />
4. Renewing.<br />
5. Baffling.<br />
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I find I don't really need to buy new hanging apparatus as there are three under the table, several on the flat file, and many amongst the cockroach wings and legs in the corners. I know....gross.<br />
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I find I have more supplies than I would have guessed....and most are not dried up<br />
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I find many artifacts of nature once or twice used in still life or intended for such, most are dried up.<br />
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I find brushes, long fossilized, that I could never throw away because they might be useful someday. <br />
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I also find objects that look like they belong to something. I have to keep them in case I figure it out someday.<br />
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I finally shove most of it back into drawers and behind other things and go back to painting. I was just procrastinating anyway.<br />
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Can you relate? Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-24990667046092832332011-04-09T18:00:00.001-07:002011-04-09T18:00:02.246-07:00A Dog's LifeHere is a story about a dog. This dog, a big shiny black lab, romped up to my son the day after he graduated from University of Texas at Austin. My son was unsure about what he wanted to do, which direction he should follow. But the dog, who was homeless, knew exactly what his own role was. He hung out with this young graduate, gave him the doggy equivalent of wisdom, guidance and boundless love.<br />
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This was a noble dog, with a big wise head, and he won me over by sitting on my feet and sliding to the floor in a puddle of warm friendship the first time we met. <br />
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Big dogs aren't supposed to live to be fourteen years old, but this dog did. He saw my son through some hard times and into a good new life with his own family and his own new roots. And my son saw to it that this dog had an exceptionally good elderly dog life. And yesterday it came to a peaceful noble end. <br />
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So I want to say goodbye to Jake....the noble lovely dog...I will miss him too.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-13006432273586783592011-04-05T18:07:00.000-07:002011-04-05T18:07:37.471-07:00Houses and TreesGetting back on the aircraft, back into back and forth. Finished a painting. Started several others, mostly still life pieces, my favorite at the moment. Maybe the stability of still life is stabilizing to me too. In my back and forth. In the sky.<br />
This current painting that I'm posting is about a nature preserve I saw...many acres given to the community by a couple that had lived in a cabin there long ago. Originally, there was open space around the acreage....now houses are right up against the preserve. Made me feel claustrophobic. Houses pressing in on the trees. So in my painting the trees are griped by orange ribbons, the crow has a house in his mouth and the orange houses are fielded across the background, taking over.<br />
On that happy note....I fly away for a little while.<br />
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Peace.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4722722315660831538.post-51487682491333478012011-03-31T11:07:00.000-07:002011-03-31T11:20:35.256-07:00Spring frustrationArrgh. I'm at that place where you work and work and paint and over paint and still something isn't right. Well, that's anything, I guess. The garden is a work in progress too. I'm slowly finding out which plants wickedly take over others, which are prissy and want too much attention and which are stars that will survive twenty degrees and ninety five degrees.....they get to stay.<br /><br />I have finally figured out the background in a stubborn painting and now the cherished foreground is looking horrid. Push pull yin yang. So I've come in to be distracted by the computer. And we all know what a time suck that is. So soon I will forget about the painting until the answer will come like a bolt to me and I'll go fix it.<br /><br />I went to a "function" last night. A quality socialite type thing where an artist's work hangs but truly, the artist should never be there. Unless they are the outgoing clever type that can talk talk talk and be quite delightful. I hovered around the edges of the large room, sipping champagne and eating incredibly tiny hors d'oeuvres, until I could make a break for it....out the door and into the freedom of the evening. Sigh. So good to be free and alone in the night, in the studio, in a book, and until I really want to be with people.<br /><br />Peace, Y'all.Gail Siptakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00848344673721866568noreply@blogger.com2