The Artist and the Writer

As some of you know, my husband's "hobby" has been writing. It's been laying dormant for a while, but he's recently come back to it full force.

As he talked to me recently about ideas, it occurred to me how similar, yet different we are. We are both creative people. In general, artists and writers go about their lives internalizing their experiences, yet in completely different ways.

This thought came to me when a random story was being told to me and hearing how my husband came to it...it didn't come to him by LOOKING OUTSIDE - staring off into the beauty of nature...he just thinks constantly, about ideas, about people, about interactions. I know there are plenty of jokes to be had right now, but really, I'm not a thinker (haha). I'm an observer. I take walks or sit outside to take in the beauty of what I see. My husband takes walks or sits outside to think.

Artists are about images; writers are about ideas. I am generalizing way too much, and I certainly don't mean to say that artists have nothing to say, or writers have nothing to portray. As artists, our styles, medium, subject matter may differ, but I think our experiences with the outside world are similar.

We may have our own thoughts/judgments on the world and can create "art" with that in mind...
...or not. 

An Old Portrait and an Older Portrait

Oops!

 

I totally forgot that I meant to post a charcoal portrait of my daughter in the last post! That was a major reason I did a non-art post, but I guess that's what happens when you have someone like me, posting about who-knows-what. I try to stay on topic of art, but sometimes, I gotta stray.

Portrait of Anna

 

Granted, this portrait was done years ago, and I'm painfully aware I should do an update. Plus, I have other family members who have waited patiently for their turn, but since theirs is free, they have no choice but to sit back and... wait some more.

Portrait of my Dad

 

So now we get to go down memory lane...to 20 (yes, TWENTY!) years ago. I did a portrait of my dad that I submitted and won 1st place in a Father's Day event. Looking at it now...I can honestly tell you his lips were not that "pretty". Maybe a redo is in order... ;)

It's a "stippling" portrait, made up of a bunch of dots. I did a few other drawings in the same fashion, but that's another topic... Maybe I'm not that brave to show more of my work from high school, but it might be an eye opener for some who think you gotta be born with talent. ;)

 

A Time for Celebration and Remembrance

Picture of Anna before school today

Happy birthday to my daughter! 

She's 6 today! She's excited, but not as much as you would think a 6 year old GIRL would be. She probably gets more excited about her brother's birthday than she does about her own.

Of course, she IS excited to see me bring cupcakes to her class, and will be excited when we go to dinner so she can see her cousins. She IS excited about her presents...but quietly so. You put her in front and expect her to burst from excitement and you're more likely to see her burst into tears.

Anna trying not to smile/cry while people sing Happy Birthday

The other day when we got together for Easter, she was propped up on the counter while we (lots and lots of "we") sang Happy Birthday to her.

I took pictures...and expected to see tears.

 

 

 It's not only my daughter's birthday today, it's my dad's birthday as well. 

He would have been 69 today. It's a fine line when celebrating a child's birthday while remembering someone who is no longer with you. It's another when they're both related to you.

My dad didn't make a big deal out of his own birthday, but you bet he was the one baking a cake for you for your birthday. It wasn't decorated fancily, and sometimes didn't look edible. But that was the point of it...it wasn't the presentation as much as it was the what came before it...the background...the "essence" I suppose.

Our relationship was sort of like that. You talk to my sisters and brother, and of course their relationship with him was completely different. My oldest sister and him actually talked to each other. That's a concept that I've pondered over the years. And laughed at...because my dad and I didn't talk. We had the same personality...we took comfort in each other's company, but rarely talked. We would take small hikes in the woods, we would watch "The Andy Griffith Show" together, and stay up late to watch Alfred Hitchcock on Friday nights.

Even though he wasn't a great talker, he was there...and it mattered. Even though he didn't make a big deal about any of it, he was the one baking the cakes or dyeing easter eggs and hiding them.

So in celebrating my daughter's birthday, I'm also celebrating my dad's birthday...quietly. And remembering.

My dad with my sister and I (I'm in the blue dress).

Anna as SuperGirl