exists to create art which reflects the beauty and the glory of God, to use art to comfort and encourage people, and to inspire others to pursue the arts.
This is from a photo I took when we lived in Ohio. I have a lot of photos from the 18 years that we lived there, mostly in the beautiful autumns. It is so cold and snowy here that I thought I would do a sunny landscape with lots of colors. This is an 8×10 on red sanded matboard with soft pastels.
Below is my reference photo. I believe I took it while walking on Murray road, so it must have been just across the road from our house. Or not far.
We have neglected the truth that a good farmer is a craftsman of the highest order, a kind of artist. – Wendell Berry
I am finished with my latest commission portrait. Kevin has recently passed away and this is one of Beth’s favorite photos of them, together. I thought it was a wonderful photo from which to work. It is difficult getting a good reference photo.
This portrait was made with oil-based colored pencils and alcohol markers on hot-pressed watercolor paper. It is 14×10. Beth is really happy with it and so am I. I love it. I hate to send it to her, because I will miss it. LOL!
It is snowing here, in Huntsville, today. We have an ice sandwich in the works: snow, then ice, then snow. Fortunately, we have nowhere we need to go. So, I have just been taking pictures and playing Huntsville-opoly with Ron. He won, today.
Yes, this is nothing compared to Ohio or elsewhere, but it is a lot for Huntsville. We are pretty much shut down. LOL! But, I think everyone needs a break once in a while to sit around and drink hot beverages and look out the window. As long as the electricity sticks around for the duration…
I think I will make a pastel landscape this afternoon.
A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short. —André Maurois
I have decided to make all kinds of resolutions, even though I may not keep 90% of them. If I keep one, I am ahead, eh? I think so. Actually, I have made six main ones, one of which is to make art every day, even if it is just five minutes working on a piece. So far, this year, I have kept all my resolutions flawlessly. LOL! Just kidding! The first day I messed up, but I am going to keep on trucking.
I have finally begun my latest portrait commission. I decided to do it in colored pencil and needed to do some practice with other things before I began. I am making it on a 12×16 piece of hot press watercolor paper with oil based colored pencils. This initial sketch is done with a very light brown pencil. I worried that I would not get the likeness or the loving look shared between them, but I am excited to say that I think I got it! Oh, joy! Oh, rapture! LOL!
Of course, it is not perfect (and never will be), but it is pretty good for a start. My next chemo treatment is this Thursday. I hope I get some work done on it before then. It may be a couple of weeks after my treatment that I am able to work on it again.
Also, I have updated my Fine Art America Shop. At first, I only had the free shop, which only allowed me to upload 25 pieces for sale. I finally decided to bite the bullet, which turned out to be not that big of a bullet, and pay for the unlimited uploads. So, I have uploaded over 200 pieces AND I put them in collections to, hopefully, make it a little easier on shoppers. Recently, I actually had a sale and it was very encouraging. I don’t know who it was, but if you are reading this, Thank You. Fine Art America does not reveal the identity of customers.
Well, I am off to do laundry, then make my man some lunch, and then get to work on this portrait. Yay! I hope you all have a wonderful, productive, art-filled year. The quote below is from my devotions this morning. That is one of my resolutions. The photo is from a walk on the Kokosing Trail in Mount Vernon, Ohio, when we lived there.
Grant, O Lord, that from this hour I may know only that which is worthy to be known; that I may love only that which is truly lovely; that I may praise only that which chiefly pleases you; and that I may esteem what you esteem, and despise that which is contemptible in your sight! Suffer me no longer to judge by the imperfect perception of my own senses, or of the senses of men ignorant like myself; but enable me to judge both of visible and invisible things, by the Spirit of truth; and, above all, to know and to obey your will. Amen. – Thomas a Kempis
This Christmas will be a great one. All the family is gathering here in Huntsville. Family from Hawaii, Vietnam, Connecticut, and from right here. It will be nice to see everyone. I hope you all are having as wonderful a holiday. And I hope that we are all remembering what this holiday is actually about:
“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” — Isaiah 7:14
“And the angel answered her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.” — Luke 1:35
“And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” — Luke 2:7
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” — Luke 2:11
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” — John 1:14
“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior.” — Titus 3:4-6
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” — James 1:17
This nativity scene was made by Ron when he was just a little tyke. We love it and look forward to seeing it every year.
These beautiful angels were given to me by my beloved sister-in-law Sherrie (Ron’s sister) and my beloved brother-in-law Rich Mullen. I thank them for their love and prayers.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in faith so that you overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” — Romans 15:13
I am practicing with colored pencils. I have decided to do the portrait in colored pencils, so I will practice for a little while before getting started. Changing mediums is a little bit difficult. There are so many differences, like how to hold it, how it behaves, what surface to use, etc. And, I don’t know about you, but change is hard. Whine, whine… LOL! So, here is a little picture of some green apples. Prismacolor Premier pencils on 11×14 Strathmore white bristol vellum paper.
Anyone can count the seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed. — Robert H. Schuller
This woman has such a beautiful voice. If you have never heard her sing, you must find her on YouTube and listen. Especially when she sang with Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris. Mom and Dad were listening to her the other day and sent a couple of links to me of her singing Mexican songs. I was inspired to paint her portrait. It is small: 8×10 and I did not make a drawing first. I just dove in with the oil paint. But, I think she is recognizable. Do you know who she is?
The only thing better than singing is more singing. — Ella Fitzgerald
I am finally getting around to some oil painting. I am doing a few practice paintings before getting started on a portrait commission. It has been a while since painting with oils. I really enjoyed this one. It took a while to talk myself into it and to get my head screwed on straight. But, once again, when I get started I enjoy myself.
This was the painting that was done for paint week with Chris Fornataro. I am following him on Patreon and will be doing some more of his paintings, soon. He really helps me to loosen up.
This one is oils on an 11×14 stretched canvas.
Reaction – a boat which is going against the current but which does not prevent the river from flowing on. — Victor Hugo
Well, I am in the hospital, again. Because of my chemo and immunotherapy, my immune system is very weak and I got a sinus infection and neutropenia, which is very low white blood cell count, which sent me spiraling into a fever. Ron took me to the emergency room on Wednesday. I got in quickly and they started all kinds of tests: covid, flu, strep, and I don’t remember them all. They also started me on broad spectrum IV antibiotics: ten bags a day!!! The idea is to kill any possible infections and try to get some white blood cells back. Well it is working, but the trips to the bathroom are becoming less fun. One thing leads to another and soon you are so full of drugs… But, God is good and He is keeping me sane and putting one foot in front of the other. This is a great hospital to be in, if you must be in one. But, I’m ready to go home.
A friend sent me some coloring cards, so I have been doing art! Yay!!! I am giving them away here in the hospital. They even have a program here called Arts in Medicine where they give art supplies to patients so they can color, draw, do crafts, etc. Very nifty. And the art that is on the walls! I love it. I have gotten quite a few of the workers to slow down and look at it.
I have also logged in a few miles around the Oncology Unit. There are several good views of downtown Huntsville. It is pretty even on a rainy day. Of course, I am partial to the land of my nativity.
I hope you all are well and enjoying art in some way.
I am making this post from my phone, which is a little tricky.
I keep this mustache on my fridge in case of emergency. — Silly Anonymous Wig-wearer (a few days ago)
I have been having difficulties with my art. I am shaky and just not feeling up to it most days. But, I finally got this commission finished. I love these faces! This is 8×10 pastel pencils. I started this about four times and finally ended up with the first one I started. LOL!
If a dog will not come to you after having looked you in the face, you should go home and examine your conscience. — Woodrow Wilson
It has been a while since I have posted about what I am reading. I am always reading something. I have been reading a LOT. I am reading the Fairacre Series by Miss Read (Mrs. Dora Jesse Saint) right now. I am on the third book, Storm in the Village (Copyright 1958). The books are from the point of view of a village schoolmistress in a small English village in the 1950’s. I came across a very nifty part and wanted to share it. This is why I love these books so much:
The first day of the holidays dawned bright and fair. I made up my mind to spend it alone, savouring to the full the exquisite pleasure of being free.
To those who have never had to undergo regular employment with set hours of work, the glory of not being clock-bound cannot be truly appreciated. I looked gleefully at my kitchen clock as I took a leisurely breakfast at nine o'clock, and thought to myself, "Ah! Yesterday at this time I was marking the register!"
I wandered round the dewy garden, admiring the velvety dark phlox just coming into flower, and getting an added fillip from the thought that normally I would be setting about an arithmetic lesson at the stern behest of the timetable on the wall. It is heady stuff, freedom -- this cocking-a-snook at clocks, bells, whistles, timetables, syllabuses, and all the other strait-jackets curbing the gay flow of time.
I sauntered through the village, swinging my basket as St. Patrick's clock struck eleven o'clock. ('Time to bring them in from play!' warned my teacher-shadow. 'And rats to that!' chortled my exuberant holiday-self.) What bliss it was to be at large in Fairacre on a Friday morning, instead of cooped up in a dark school!
It was fun to see the difference in the village at this time of the morning. The sun slanted from a different angle, winking on the brass knocker of Mr. Lamb's door, a beautiful lion's head with a ring in it's mouth, which I had not noticed before when the sun had slipped further round. In a cottage window stood a cactus plant which I had noticed before, but now, with the sun shining full upon it, two vivid orange flowers gaped like young birds beaks in its warm benison.
On the other side of the village street a topiary hedge, finely clipped into towers and battlements, cast its black shadow upon the sun-drenched road, and a young thrush with jewelled eyes sheltered in the cool shade there.
Other Fairacre folk were still about their everyday business. From the Post Office came the irregular thumping of Mr. Lamb's date-stamping as he hastened to get the mail ready for the van. The clinking of brass weights came from the grocer's and the whirring of the coffee-grinder, accompanied by the most seductive of all food smells.
Dusters flapped from upstairs windows as the bedrooms received their morning toilet. Here a woman bent in her vegetable garden cutting a lettuce or pulling spring onions for the midday meal. A baby lay kicking in its pram, eyes squirrel-bright as it crowed at the fluttering leaves about it.
From the bakehouse at the rear of the grocer's shop wafted the homely fragrance of new bread. In there, I knew, the great tables had been scrubbed clean and the white-overalled baker, with his short sleeves rolled up, would be waiting to rap the top of this loaves to see if the batch were done. At the far end of the village, near Tyler's Row, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Rogers, the blacksmith, in dusky contrast to his equally hot bakehouse neighbour, standing at the door of his forge to get a breath of fresh air.
Nothing can beat a village, I thought, for living in! A small village, a remote village, a village basking, as smug and snug as a cat in morning sunlight! I continued my lover's progress, besotted with my village's charms. Just look at that weeping willow, plumed like a fountain, that lime tree murmurous with bees, that scarlet pimpernel blazing in a dusty verge, the curve of that hooded porch, the jasmine -- in fact, look at every petal, twig, brick, beam, thatch, wall, pond, man, woman, and child that make up this enchanting place! My blessing showered upon it all.
It was the first day of the holidays.
Then some water passes under the bridge. You will have to get the book (either buy it or get it at the library) to find out what...
This was the halcyon village I had mooned over so sentimentally early in the holidays, I thought grimly. Where now was the tranquil sunshine, the serenity, the innocent-hearted populace going about its honest business?
I thought of the misplaced passion of Hilary Jackson, the cupidity of John Franklyn, the evil gossiping of neighbours, the sad injustice of Miss Clare's ill-health, the misery of the Coggs family at the mercy of their drunken father under the broken dripping thatch of Tyler's Row, of the chained unhappy dogs in back gardens, bedraggled hens cooped all too closely in bare rank runs, and, over all, the tension engendered by the housing scheme and the ugly passions it aroused.
A flash of lightning illuminated the landscape in quivering mauve and yellow lights, distorting its normal lovely colouring to something livid and sinister.
Sick at heart, with the noise of the storm still raging round me, I sought in vain for the comfort of sleep. -- Miss Read (Storm in the Village)
Virginia C. McCoy Fine Art 
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