Archive for June, 2012
In my basement among piles of junk are surprising treasures. I found a small book of poetry published in 1939. It immediately grabbed me because I didn’t recognize it and when I looked inside I noticed the inscription was to Mabel and Elton (my husband’s grandparents) from the author herself. Then I realized the book was published in McPherson, KS which is the home town of my husband’s father’s family. and not known for it’s publishing companies.
I brought the book upstairs and read a few pages. I liked it, but was curious about who this author was and why/how she got a book of poetry published in rural Kansas in 1939.
Then my daughter picked it up and read it in the living room while I worked. Later, at the dinner table I mentioned to my husband that I found the book in the basement and asked if he knew anything about the author. No luck there.
My daughter lit up with excitement about the book and promptly brought it to the table. We ended up reading the poems, laughing and smiling, and ooohing and ah-ing about the sometimes funny and sometimes heart-breaking words in the book all the way through dessert.
It was one of the neatest things we’ve ever done at the dinner table.
This little book is special. I’m dying to know who Rayra Richardson Rush was. I contacted my father in law and his best guess is that she was the wife of a rich oil man his father worked for.
Still, this woman is a hero to me in a way. She self-published her work (and it’s not bad – not bad at all) and it was hid away in storage for 70 years until I un-earthed it by chance. Wouldn’t she love to know her words have brought someone joy this many years later? If someone is still hanging on to my artwork in 70 years I’ll be smilin’ from beyond…
After that dinner I went back to my work table to finish some paintings that had been sitting on my desk as unfinished drawings for days. One of those was of a young lady standing still in the rain, looking down, sort of somber-like. I don’t think I wanted to finish it because I was pretty sure I had painted that sort of thing many times. I needed to change something about that sad same girl.
Weather Related – ACEO original painting by Lauren Alexander on Etsy
I erased her and re-drew her with a completely different pose and a smirky grin. She became someone who was not getting poured on from above but ready to catch the heavy falling rain.
Why not, right?
I confess. I have the uncontrollable urge to re-arrange furniture. It’s how I cope with stress. Over the weekend a series of unfortunate little things had me moving everything in sight. When I got done with the living room, the dining room, and my studio I turned to the only thing I hadn’t messed with in a while; my website.
I know there isn’t furniture on the internet to move but there were things that bugged me about my blog and my store and stuff in between that made me want to push it all together into one perfect spot. A place where everything flows like wine into my glass…
And it was going to take a lot of wine in my glass to keep me sane from all the meticulous inter-workings of web site building. I think the WordPress support staff is more than a little annoyed with my non-sensical badgering about linking this to that and how…
It’s worth it, right? Look around…click on something…find something that doesn’t work and let me know so I can go back and fix it.
And even with all this link-mania I managed to get a few new paintings done. I’m showing off these owls because they are not only adorable but also available for you to buy now. NOW!
Sorry – that’s my crazy side creeping back in. Hey I haven’t re-arranged my bathroom yet….gotta run.
If you have had a one-on-one conversation with me in the last week or so chances are you’ve heard me going on about my new bread-making obsession. I’ve probably even pulled out my phone to show you the latest pictures like a proud new parent.
Making my own bread has always eluded me due to my lack of understanding how yeast, kneading, punching, and proofing all work. Thanks to the Magical Inspiration Land (also known as Pinterest) I found a recipe for home made bread that works for me because there is very little work involved.
For the last week or so I have been able to make a small loaf of bread that feeds my little family all day long. New day? New bread. No problem.
It’s a sick obsession my husband will be first to admit. Each morning I get up and turn the oven on almost as hot as it will go (you know, perfect for summer) and then I pat and pull my little baby (er… loaf) into shape and let it rest for a while before it can go inside the steamy hot oven.
When it comes out I turn it over and pat its bottom – making sure it sounds airy. Then it sits on the counter and if I’m lucky it makes some crackly noises. I love those sounds. My house smells amazing in the morning. And I float around the house smiling silently screaming, “I made BREAD! Good crispy chewy flavorful tasty BREAD!”
Not only is my bread delicious on its own but we’re learning to love all the great things that become even greater thanks to it’s ability to hold food. Nutella on home made bread? It’s god’s gift to snacking.
There’s only one problem.
But it’s nothing a little extra exercise and some darn good shape wear won’t fix.
above: A Beautiful Day, 9″x12″ watercolor painting. below: A Beautiful Day, 2.5″x3.5″ watercolor painting.
The other day in my studio I did something I don’t normally do. I took the advice of hundreds of people (over the years) who have long asked me to make my small paintings larger. You can’t blow them up as a print, it doesn’t work. They look funny, trust me. But with what feels like infinite amounts of painting time on my hands this summer it dawned on me like some climactic movie moment when the main character finally realizes what the audience has known all along.
Paint it bigger, stupid!
(hand smacks forehead) Oh I get it now! Above you’ll see the large and small version of A Beautiful Day, a painting I made after a spring walk with lots of wind and purple trees.
And below I took one of my 2010 favorites, Any Which Way, and brought it back to a new life in a much larger form.
above: Any Which Way, 9″x12″ watercolor painting. below: Any Which Way, 2.5″x3.5″ watercolor painting.
I still think there’s magic in the tiny paintings and I will never stop making them. But I have found new magic in re-creating them larger. It’s a thrill to realize I have somewhere around 500 small paintings in my portfolio from which to draw upon. Surely there’s more opportunity to paint in there somewhere. Who knows what I’ll dig up next.
Recently I was asked to be a god-mother, a role I am honored to take. It means I get to be like my god-mother was to me, someone who always gave me a special card and took a general interest in my well-being. And to put my own personal spin on god-parenting I painted a picture for my new special girl.
I titled it Room to Grow because over the last couple weeks I had been reading a lot about the things a person needs to live up to their potential. It made me realize that a person (of any age) needs the freedom and space to explore, try, fail, win, love, and grieve….. I have watched my own daughter grow and change a lot in the two years she’s been with us. I have grown up a lot myself and I know I have more to do.
This painting is for anyone who wants to make a little room in their life.
“Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” – Hans Christian Anderson
Last summer my family took a trip to Branson, MO, a little town in the Ozarks that is a little bit Vegas-esque but without any vice. It’s a family place that keeps your wallet steadily hemorrhaging. One parent trap is the Butterfly Palace, a part science part glitzy spectacle of all things butterfly. Naturally we took our two daughters there.
Inside, the piece de resistance is an entire floor decked out in rainforest style with zillions of free-flying multi-colored butterflies. Needless to say it’s a beautifully weird room that brings both wonder and sadness for the butterflies have only days to live and their corpses in the light fixtures did not escape my eye.
My young daughter, on the other hand, was completely enchanted and took a lot of pictures. They flitted around and landed on food dishes waiting for the shutter to click as if they were trained to do so. The painting above was inspired by one of her pictures she so proudly took.
As I painted this butterfly I was fighting against my inner self who kept asking, “Really, Lauren, a butterfly, what’s next dolphins under rainbows?” But I was compelled anyway and the fight was won by the side of me that thinks this butterfly deserves a place in my portfolio. My daughter thinks it deserves a place in her bedroom.
