Jessica leaves me, tomorrow, for her home in the far north. She has enjoyed her visit, as have I, and we have discussed books, movies, latin, theology, and art until we are worn out. We have sung and danced and walked in the sun. It has been good.
Now, to see some more of her artwork:
Vexillum Suum Super Me Est Amor (Translation from the Latin: His Banner Over Me Is Love) — The above sculpture is an artwork for a competition at school. The theme of the competition is “Carry The Banner”. So, for this theme, Jessica created a heart that is slowly being warmed by the love of God. She took this idea from the Bible: Song of Solomon 2:4. The black heart is encased in stone and the fire of God is warming it and turning it to flesh.
This is an 8×10 acrylic painting on a piece of loose canvas. She painted this for her friend and framed it. I’m sure her friend will appreciate it.
I did the same flowers from the same reference while she was painting, but I did mine in pastels on 8×10 sanded paper. Mine do not look as much like African Violets as Jessica’s do. LOL!
So, do I get to inherit all these books? — Jessica McFall
Sandy asked me to make a portrait of her beloved husband and I chose to do it in pastel pencils on orange pastel paper, 12×16. I did feel like using the photo that she submitted, so I looked on Facebook and found a photo of him that I liked better. LOL! She surprised him with it on their anniversary and he loved it. I’m glad.
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face. — Victor Hugo
My beloved niece, Jessica, is spending a few weeks with us, here in sunny, but chilly, Florida. She is going to school in Minneapolis and appreciates our slightly cool, but lovely weather. We have been busy catching up on movies and working on art. Yes, art! First, we worked with some polymer clay:
This is our clay masterpieces: “The Pig of Paree”, also known as “The Swine of the Seine”, created by yours truly; a prototype for a larger untitled work about the human heart by Jessica; a figure of a man who turned out to remind me of my grandma, so I call him “Grandma Man”; and a leaf with a purple pearl by Moi.
Jessica working on her clay masterpiece. “A heart being warmed by the fire of the love of God,” explains the artist.
Next, we worked on portraits. Jessica chose to do a picture of a lovely old man with a magnificent beard. I am partial to magnificent beards. LOL!
Jessica learned how to use a grid to catch the likeness. We printed the picture and decided to make the drawing half the size of the picture, so the picture has a one inch grid and the paper had a half-inch grid. It worked out well.
The finished product! Ta-da! I think it is wonderful. She did such a good job. And she didn’t get very much instruction from me. I was busy with my own stuff. LOL!
He understood all the different kinds and was able to draw inspiration from all, but he could not imagine that it is possible to be quite ignorant of the different kinds of art and to be inspired directly by what is in one’s own soul. — Leo Tolstoy from Anna Karenina
This is a portrait made with pastel pencils on grey-toned paper, approximately 11×15. I originally started it with the intention of it being a monochrome, but I ended up introducing other colors, starting with the blue background. Pastor Bob was Mamoo’s pastor and we appreciate all he has done for us and for her.
Where there is charity and wisdom, there is neither fear nor ignorance. — Francis of Assisi
It is cold here! In the 60’s! LOL! It didn’t take long for me to get acclimated to Florida and get cold when it is a balmy 60 degrees. So, here is a lovely warm day at the beach. Soft pastels on an 8×10 sanded board.
Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you. — Walt Whitman
This is actually in New Jersey, but it certainly looks like Florida. A beautiful sunset over a wetlands. Water is so calming. This is soft pastels on black sanded paper, 9×12.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters. — Norman McIean (A River Runs Through It)
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