Author: virginiacmccoy

I have been very busy with cleaning and rearranging my studio, which is in the basement and shares space with many other things. We have a refrigerator down here, the dog crate, food storage, and exercise equipment, including a large treadmill. It had become a place to stash extra stuff which had no immediately apparent use in our lives. So, it was time to unload some stuff and make the space more usable. We are still in the process, but it is so much better. Without so much stuff, it is much easier to clean, too, which is something I am not good at and have no real desire to do, but it must be done. Here is a couple of before pictures and an after:

These pictures were taken after we had started the process of cleaning and rearranging. It always seems to get much, much worse, before it gets better. But, this gives you some idea of what it was before.

Now the after. This photo is just one corner, but it is the painting and computer areas. I have my still life stand, which is actually a wine rack which is built for bottles underneath and glasses to hang from the top. I taped some cardboard along two sides and hung a light on the side and it works great. I will need some dimmer bulbs, because the light is way too bright. I am still not finished with the little things like putting things where they belong and cleaning details, but it is looking so much better. I love having floor space to walk around and breathing space. We also installed two LED lights in the middle of the room and it is almost like stadium lights when they come on. When I first turned them on, I thought, “We built it and now they will come.” Who is coming? I don’t know….

Okay, now for Eggbert. My first painting in my new studio. This is oils on an 8×10 stretched canvas. I really enjoyed painting this. I found myself singing while painting. I used yellow ochre, naphthol red, burnt umber, ultramarine blue, and titanium white, and a little linseed oil. I used two brushes, one for the background and eggcup and one for the egg. By the way, do you know which came first, the egg or the eggcup? Have any of you ever used an eggcup? Have any of you ever eaten soft boiled eggs? I don’t recall doing either of them, myself. I love a nice runny yolk with fried eggs, although we don’t eat eggs, anymore, and we don’t have chickens, either. That’s another story. Well, without further eloquence, allow me to introduce Eggbert:

When I got to France I realized I didn’t know very much about food at all. I’d never had a real cake. I’d had those cakes from cake mixes or the ones that have a lot of baking powder in them. A really good French cake doesn’t have anything like that in it – it’s all egg power. — Julia Child

Guess what? I have been reading. Here is a list of some of my latest books. I must remember to write them down as I read them, because I know I am missing some.

Deep Work by Cal Newport. It is a very good thing to know, what he has to say about deep work (what he calls intense concentration), but it is not a very exciting book. I actually have not finished it, because I got to a certain point and had to take off and institute some of his suggestions. I will finish it soon.

A Place of Quiet Rest by Nancy Leigh DeMoss (Wolgemuth). This is a lovely book that helps you to get motivated to have a regular and very satisfying devotional time every day. I am not very good at it, so I need all the help I can get. Nancy is a powerful woman of God and I am very glad to sit at her feet and learn from her. I have not instituted all her suggestions, in fact, I am using the app from You Version on my kindle. It sends me a verse of the day and reminders to read my bible and pray, every day. That helps me quite a bit. But, Nancy’s book is a worthy read, too.

Vittoria Cottage by D. E. Stevenson. I don’t know how to describe this book, except to say that it is a soft and lovely book about a family who lives in a cottage in a small English village around the end of World War II. I love these kind of books. There is enough tame action to keep me interested. Rather along the lines of Jane Austen or Dora Jesse Saint (AKA Miss Read). I read another book in this series, but didn’t know, until halfway through the book, that I was on book three (Winter and Rough Weather). I finished book three, but now I need to find book two and read it before going on.

All Done By Kindness by Doris Langley Moore. Oh, wow! This book was one that I just could not put down. I would walk around the house, doing what needed to be done, with the book in my hand. I’m glad it was a kindle book, because carrying the kindle reader around is much easier to do when folding laundry or doing dishes. LOL! So exciting. It is a novel of intrigue in the art world and it takes place in a small village with occasional forays into London. I was so satisfied with this book that I immediately read another of her books, called Not At Home. This one was quite strange. I got upset with the main character many times and would slam the book down and say, “I wish she would just stop and do what she knows she needs to do!” But, then I would pick it up and see what she did next. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t stop reading it. After it was all over, I’m glad I continued. It was different, but very good.

The Unstoppable Creative by Todd Brison. Some time ago, I read his first book, called The Artist’s Curse. It was very good and spoke volumes to me. This one was very good, also. Both books are a tremendous pep talk to me, who gets discouraged far too easily in my walk as an artist. He is a writer, but he speaks to all artists and he is very encouraging. This was an audio book and the author read it, which made it even better. He is a good reader and he is enthusiastic about it, because, well…it’s his book, after all.

Nuts by Kacy Cook. This is a children’s book which is about a family who ends up raising two baby squirrels which fell out of a tree in their yard. It is cute, although I got a little tired of the main character lying to her parents. But, in the end, it all came right.

Candles in the Dark by Amy Carmichael. This book is a compilation of extracts from the letters that Amy Carmichael wrote from her sick bed during the last twenty years of her life. She was a missionary to India in the early 1900’s. I love to read Amy Carmichael, although it stretches me and convicts me quite a bit. Such words of wisdom and poetic loveliness all emanating from a bed of pain and inconvenience. A beautiful book.

The Caxley Chronicles (The Market Square and The Howards of Caxley) by Miss Read. These two books are by one of my favorite authors (of hundreds) and it takes place from just before Queen Victoria died until about 1950. It chronicles the life of two families in a small town in England. One patriarch is a baker and one is a man who sells metalworks like pots, pans, agricultural tools, and lots of other things made of metal. They both have their businesses on the square facing each other and they both live above their shops. The tale goes through both world wars and many changes to their lives. Wonderful stuff, as usual.

The Masterpiece by Francine Rivers. Oh! This book! So good! I was given it by a dear friend and when I tried to start it, I just didn’t like it and couldn’t get past the second chapter. But, recently, I tried again and I guess it was time. I couldn’t put this one down, either. It is about a graffiti artist, who has a bad history and his future doesn’t look so hot, either, but although his graffiti is done anonymously, he is enjoying success with paintings on canvas which are hot sellers at the local gallery. Personally, his life is a mess. Enter a serious and proper young lady, hired through an employment agency to be his personal assistant. She is a Christian, also, and let’s just say that they don’t always get along and the Lord is the only one who could keep her at that job. Thankfully, she was not his type, so she had nothing to worry about in that way. This book is a deep and hard roller coaster ride. Such a good book!

The Diary of A Country Parson 1758-1802 by James Woodforde. I am currently reading this, very slowly, a little at a time. This is a very easy, not too exciting, mostly amusing look at a quaint and quiet life.

My Morning Routine: How Successful People Start Every Day Inspired by Benjamin Spall and Michael Xander. This is interesting, but I have to roll my eyes at some parts of it. People are so weird. I know I am weird, but my weirdness is familiar. LOL! Anyway, there are a few things in this book I can use. The rest I will leave and move on. Success is relative, by the way.

So, this is what I have been reading recently. What have you been reading? Have you read any of the above? Do you read at all? I don’t know if I would continue to breathe without reading. I love it. Art, books, coffee. Yeah!

You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me. – C.S. Lewis

I discovered a photographer who has a collection called The Faces of Colonial Williamsburg and I just fell in love with those faces. I wish I could paint them all. He graciously gave me permission to use some of his photos and this is the first one that I chose. I changed my mind several times, but finally got to work on this one. I don’t know who he is or what he is supposed to be doing, but he was on a cart with another man and I cropped him out. He is in pastels on pastel paper, 11×15. I tried to stay loose on this one and I think I succeeded at that.

Please visit the site of photographer David O’Dell and see some of his wonderful work.

“It was muskets that won the Revolution. And don’t forget it was axes, and plows that made this country.” — Father Wilder in the book Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Okay, today I set up a still life in a wine rack stand thingy that I got at the thrift store. I taped cardboard around it and put a lamp to one side. It worked very well. I am excited about the possibilities. Here is my first still life from “life”. Is that what you call it? It is an 8×10 stretched canvas which I had toned with burnt umber acrylic, beforehand. Earlier, I had gotten the apple out of the fridge for a snack and it was so pretty I had to paint it.

Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces I would still plant my apple tree. — Martin Luther

En plein air is french for “outdoors”. I have wanted to paint outdoors for a long time, but I was too self-conscious. The field across the road is so full of purple weeds that it almost looks like a lavender field in France, so I finally got up the gumption and put my easel in the driveway and gave it a try. It was HARD! It was not hard to paint, well, not much, anyway. The hard part was trying to keep my mind on the painting and not on the possibility of being seen. Yikes! I was seen! I was seen several times over! I was a nervous wreck and I did not capture the scene like I wanted. In fact, it does not look at all like the scene which was in front of me and which I could not see for all the self-consciousness that was keeping me preoccupied. Mr. Beloved said it looks very good for my first try. I will accept that and try again. Someday…

I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process. — Vincent Van Gogh

I had no idea what to call this portrait, but the colors suggest Autumn, so there we are. I was going to stick to pastel pencils, but I got carried away, as usual, and ended up using soft pastels and hard pastels, also. I believe that boy is about to drown in that scarf. LOL!

I have also made a page for my writings, if you are interested.

Writings

The boy who is going to make a great man must not make up his mind merely to overcome a thousand obstacles, but to win in spite of a thousand repulses and defeats. — Theodore Roosevelt

First, allow me to report that I am working on a very nifty portrait that I am very excited about, but I don’t want to show his face, yet. I don’t know why. LOL! I am being shy for him.

This is pastel pencils on Canson Mi-Tientes pastel paper, smooth side, light gray. I think he is roughly 12×16.

I have also been doodling and drawing in my sketchbook:

This pear was a doodle I did while Mr. Beloved shuffled the cards for one of our usual card games after supper. It was done on a piece of stationery with a ball point pen.

This is a quick sketch, but I want to do a much bigger portrait, perhaps in pastels. We’ll see.

Now, what is this about oatmeal? Well, it is my latest story. I hope you enjoy. Please let me know if you are enjoying my writing.

Oatmeal

For some reason, I chose oatmeal as the hill to die on.  Living in the beautiful little alpine village of Oberammergau, Germany, in the early 1970’s, I was in the third grade and feeling grown up with the natural desire to be my own boss.  My mother, being an army wife with the responsibility of feeding her hardworking man and four voracious children on a small salary, nevertheless fed us well.  One of the household favorites was oatmeal and I had never had a problem with it, that I can remember.  However, one innocent morning, I surprised my mother by refusing to eat it.

“Why don’t you want your oatmeal?” she asked.

“I just don’t want it.” I said.

After a moment of thought, Mom said, “Okay.  You don’t have to eat it.”

Feeling that the wonderful victory was mine, I smugly requested bacon, eggs, and toast for my breakfast, instead of the newly despised oatmeal.

With a sympathetic look, Mom said, “No.  You will eat oatmeal or nothing.”

I was shocked.  This is not the way it is supposed to work.  Well!  The battle is on.

“I will have nothing, then.”  And I left for the walk to school.  Once there, the excitement of friends and the wonderful teaching of Mrs. Brown, one of my favorite teachers, took the thought of my grievance completely out of my head.  At that time and in that place, there was no easily available food in school.  All the kids, that I knew, went home for lunch and only rarely did anyone bring anything to school.  Every once in a while, Mrs. Brown would do something fun involving food, like bringing the ingredients for tortillas, a press, and a hotplate and, during a lesson on Mexico, we ate fresh hot tortillas.  But, this rebellious day was totally without candy from a friend or exotic food from the teacher.

On the way home for the midday meal, walking up the mountain, I was glad to imagine our usual lunch of a sandwich, soup, and warm homemade pudding.  It was good and comforting to come home, pretending I was Heidi going up the Alm.  It was not that difficult, because we were surrounded by alps and we lived on the side of one.  I had recently gotten a little swiss chalet music box for Christmas which played the song Edelweiss from the movie, The Sound of Music.  I happily headed for home, seeing, in my mind’s eye, the chocolate pudding cooling on the kitchen windowsill, and I got hungrier with every step.

When I opened the door, I was treated to a lovely smell drifting in the air and it was very satisfying to my nose.  Happily anticipating the satisfaction of my stomach, I sat down to a bowl of cold congealed oatmeal.  What?!

“I don’t want this!”  I cried with disgust in my voice and on my face.

Mom, in her patient and quiet way, said, “Oh, you don’t have to eat it.”

I, in my impatient and thick-headed way, said, “Good!  I’ll have a sandwich, soup, and pudding.”

“No.  You will have oatmeal or nothing.”

Oh!  This was just too much!  Mom was not getting it.  Fine, I would have to go to school, starving and neglected, and hope she learns her lesson.  The walk back to school was not as easy or happy as the walk home had been.  I headed down the road, toward school and the little horse pasture next door to the playground.  I was sure that the horse would understand me and my troubles, but he was not at the fence when I got there.  I had to get to class.  It was a little more difficult to forget my grumbling stomach, but the afternoon passed, and it was soon time to go home.

Typically, we would come home from school, change, and go out to play until supper.  Today, when we got home, a wonderful aroma was wafting appealingly from the kitchen.  I’m pretty sure that I didn’t play a whole lot, that day, but sat and thought about supper while I was outside grouchily waiting for it.  Finally, we were called in for supper.

We all ran in and got ready to eat.  I sat down in great anticipation only to be greeted by that same cold, gray, slimy bowl of oatmeal.  Mom had kept it in the refrigerator, so it was really cold.  Old, cold oatmeal is not my first choice of a meal, but it was appreciated by my empty growling stomach.  I didn’t even look up; I just ate it.  They say that hunger is the best sauce, and, for once, they were right.

The next morning, Mom placed a fragrant bowl of hot, buttery oatmeal in front of me.  I ate it with relish.  I have loved oatmeal ever since, but not as much as I love my wise and gentle mother.

“Saying good night to the mountains, the sun throws his most beautiful rays to them, that they may not forget him till the morning.” — Heidi by Johanna Spyri

This boy looks like he is really concentrating on the game and dreaming of playing in the big league, some day. I love his face and I was wanting to do a portrait, so, here he is. Pastels on approximately 11×13 velour paper.

And, during these last few weeks, my feeling, which is expressed by Jane Austen in her wonderful book, Emma, has been verified many times.

There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. — Mrs. Elton in Emma by Jane Austen

This is one of the garden sheds at George Washington’s Mount Vernon. I took the photo several years ago when I was spending time with my brother and his family in Virginia. Bro and I spent the whole day at Mount Vernon, even having lunch. It was a day to remember.

I told Mr. Beloved that I was still trying to loosen up and he said, “Well, that is definitely loose!” LOL! Oils on 8×10 stretched canvas with a small flat brush.

The photo, below, is actually Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, not Mount Vernon’s garden. But, they were contemporaries and fellow gardeners, so, enjoy.

“…impress it on the gardener to have everything in his garden that will be necessary in the housekeeping way — as vegetable is the best part of our living in the country.” — Martha Washington

It was a dark and stormy day when I took some photos of the little red barn across the road. I am taking a lot of pictures of that barn. I think I am going to end up with a series of paintings of it. LOL! I am taking photos of it from all angles in all kinds of weather with all kinds of light. This one was taken while the sun was setting and slanting onto the barn, but there were some dark and ominous clouds overhead.

Oils on 8×10 stretched canvas with one flat brush and a palette knife.

I am always humbled by the infinite ingenuity of the Lord, who can make a red barn cast a blue shadow. — E. B. White

I am enjoying painting with oils. I am starting to be able to paint loose without so much stress. I am still stressing a little as I lay down the paint and try to leave it alone. I just want to keep messing with it! LOL! Mark Carder, one of the great painters that I follow, says paint ugly and get your values right. I am trying…

This is oils on 8×10 stretched canvas. Done with one brush, a small/medium bristle filbert. I like my little plum.

I am also enjoying the sunshine the last couple of days, and after I get this posted I am off for a walk with my Toby. The photo below, I took on Thursday. Today, it is just as sunny and beautiful. I hope everyone is taking walks and enjoying the great outdoors.

I went the grocery store, yesterday, to pick up my cliklist. It was the first time I had been anywhere in the car and I took my homemade mask with me. I saw that even the street signs are masked. I don’t feel like I am isolated, because I spend most of my time at home, anyway, and communication technology is wonderful. I have been busier with virtual meetings, etc., than I ever have been. After this has calmed down a little, I need to slow down. LOL!

If isolation tempers the strong, it is the stumbling-block of the uncertain. — Paul Cezanne