I look at the paintings I have stacking up around my home and my studio space and sometimes wonder what on earth I am doing?!
As with my other ventures, I love the creating part...and loathe any aspect of marketing. I do admire those artists I know who dedicate the time and effort to reach out to prospective clients, whether through a web-site, eBay, Etsy, Craigslist or whatever. Me, I seem  to be somewhat more skilled at stacking....and fine-looking stacks they are!

This is a painting of my mother from a small black and white photo taken in 1952 when she was 16. In the photo i am a baby propped on
her knee.
The painting is in oil and is 24" x 24". When I came across the old photo last week I knew I had to paint it. My mom died when I was 11 and painting her was like examining her soul. Mine, too. I hope I've done her justice.

Old friends. Today I had lunch with an almost old friend (only friends for 12 years). Gord is a soon-to-retire-Mountie, and it was nice to see him and see the reflection of my passing years in him. But for my real 'old friends' there are deeper, closer thoughts. These are the handful of friends who are as tight as family (sometimes tighter) and who hold up the world for me when I struggle, whether it is from a bad sleep, a family death, or other sundry disasters. By the same token, these are the same people who hold up the mirror to remind me when I am at my best and cannot see it. Like I said, a small handful of precious love, that's what these friends are. I don't collect many friends, but lord knows that I hang on to those I have and love and cherish them. Do you? Friends and family...n