Thanks, Neil! A few years back, I was shopping at the The Bay in Windsor, Canada, and took a walk through their kitchen department where I spied this attractive set of Le Creuset dishes in a unique color. It was called "sage," I believe, but it was more like an aqua or turquoise, which is a color I love. I initially decided not to buy them and went home, but when I realized they were in a unique color not available in the U.S., I actually drove back the next day to Canada, convincing myself that I deserved them and that they would be a nice change from my vintage Pfaltzgraff and sundry pieces of thrift shop china. That started me on a quest for things that matched, and I've managed to acquire quite a few. I was dabbling in painting at that point and coincidentally came up with that same aqua color in the sky, so I decided it belonged in my kitchen. It gets splattered once in while, but it's survived, and it makes me smile.
Carole, this poem combined with your paintings touched me deeply. I've never met you or spoken with you, but what you write tells me your are a very talented in different ways
Above all, I sense you are a caring and loving person to those closest to you. Let yourself follow your desires, whether writing, playing, your flute, or sewing. Life is short--carpe diem.
I agree with Fred all around, Carole. That flower painting would have made Van Gogh smile and I love the "Parade". I have friend in Maryland who paints using acrylics that he squeezes out of a plastic syringe. Let me know what you think. https://www.douglasmoulden.com/
Finally got back to look at your friend’s work—fascinating! Lots of textures, colors, points of light, some that look like woodcuts and all very different. He’s found a technique that suits him well, and it would be fabulous having one of his pieces hanging somewhere in a house!
Thank you for checking out his work. He's my best friend, we raised our sons together. We have had four of his paintings in our different houses since 1996.
I first met him in 1996. He lived right around the corner from us in Frederick, Maryland. He was painting in his living room and his lovely wife, Bev disliked the mess that comes with an art studio. She was an artist herself so she really did understand, she just didn’t want it in the living room. I had built a small workshop in my backyard, about 16’ by 12’ but most of my work was jobsite stuff- I just liked to have a shop. I offered him ½ the space. He worked out of there for a couple years. He sold enough paintings to start stockpiling materials for a studio behind his place. I helped him get the foundation right but I was so busy at the time I couldn’t even give him a few days for the framing but my brother did, so that worked out well. I helped with the roof. I made a nice sign that swung out that said, “L’Artist est ici”. He could move it to show whether he was inside or not. Doug was a good plumber and electrician so I got him work on all my small renovation jobs in town. As a carpenter, he was a wood butcher. His paintings took many weeks, sometimes months. One of ours called “Niblock’s Hill” consumed $800 of acrylic. I can’t say how many times we dropped by the paint shop and I told him I had a spare $100 or I would put $50 in his used syringe jar. I knew he used up a lot of gesso paint so I would often drop off a tub of that in his studio. I would buy his paintings on installment, $100 a month for two years, even then they were expensive but they were breathtakingly beautiful and some of them made me burst into tears and he would say, “Well Parker, it’s not that awful!” He and his wife were first rate chefs and had our boys over very often over that nearly 15 year period. I would stop by his studio at least 1-2 during the week and see how a painting was progressing.
On almost every weekend we’d get together and sing and drink, he was a good guitar player. Then we’d pause and talk art for a while. He’d always ask me over at certain times to look at a piece. He’d ask for my opinion several times throughout the making of a painting. My criticisms were always very specific, about a color or a shape/shadow/line or why I didn’t like something that was jarring and sometimes I only had things to say that were positive, like I like how you did the transition between this area and that one, or this blue on this side is terrific. He just wanted my reactions, emotional or otherwise. He had been trained as a sculptor, like my mother and so we connected. The two of them got along like a house on fire. Whenever he was visiting with my mom or she with me (and therefore his studio as well) there were howls of laugher and a lot of close squinting at art. He lives in Emmitsburg, Maryland in a lovely wooded area. I miss him all the time. Leaving Frederick ten years ago I told Laurie the only thing I would really miss was my shop and Doug.
Carole this poem is so touching. I felt like that little girl, too. Your art! I saw the parade! There are fabric shops but many people now buy second hand clothes and repurposed fabric from those! 🌟
That could've been myself as a child. Too short hair, the clothes. I was too thin though and got teased for that. I'm letting my child out at my older age now;)
I also play the flute...not often enough any more! When I used to play jazz around town I'd bring my guitar and my flute and usually wind up playing the flute because guitar players are a dime a dozen...😂
I should take it out and start playing again now that I'm retired...
Dear Carole, yes! It also looks like you liked the texture of paint and the shapes it makes when put on thickly so a nice way of expressing with depth in the work, I'd say. I have a similar way of playing with paint in my own way and I've also always loved paint in general, painting houses, or small 'just for fun' paintings, It is interesting to see the colours change when mixed or when wet or dry, paintings have a life of their own, kind regards, thank God for colour, Grüß Gott.
Thanks, Neil! A few years back, I was shopping at the The Bay in Windsor, Canada, and took a walk through their kitchen department where I spied this attractive set of Le Creuset dishes in a unique color. It was called "sage," I believe, but it was more like an aqua or turquoise, which is a color I love. I initially decided not to buy them and went home, but when I realized they were in a unique color not available in the U.S., I actually drove back the next day to Canada, convincing myself that I deserved them and that they would be a nice change from my vintage Pfaltzgraff and sundry pieces of thrift shop china. That started me on a quest for things that matched, and I've managed to acquire quite a few. I was dabbling in painting at that point and coincidentally came up with that same aqua color in the sky, so I decided it belonged in my kitchen. It gets splattered once in while, but it's survived, and it makes me smile.
Carole, this poem combined with your paintings touched me deeply. I've never met you or spoken with you, but what you write tells me your are a very talented in different ways
Above all, I sense you are a caring and loving person to those closest to you. Let yourself follow your desires, whether writing, playing, your flute, or sewing. Life is short--carpe diem.
Thanks, Fred. You are right: life is short. I used to do many things. One of these days.😊
I agree with Fred all around, Carole. That flower painting would have made Van Gogh smile and I love the "Parade". I have friend in Maryland who paints using acrylics that he squeezes out of a plastic syringe. Let me know what you think. https://www.douglasmoulden.com/
Lastly, I wrote this one several years ago. It's about the creative process. Thanks https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/the-truffle-farmer
Finally got back to look at your friend’s work—fascinating! Lots of textures, colors, points of light, some that look like woodcuts and all very different. He’s found a technique that suits him well, and it would be fabulous having one of his pieces hanging somewhere in a house!
Thank you for checking out his work. He's my best friend, we raised our sons together. We have had four of his paintings in our different houses since 1996.
You’re so lucky, especially when you know the artist!
I first met him in 1996. He lived right around the corner from us in Frederick, Maryland. He was painting in his living room and his lovely wife, Bev disliked the mess that comes with an art studio. She was an artist herself so she really did understand, she just didn’t want it in the living room. I had built a small workshop in my backyard, about 16’ by 12’ but most of my work was jobsite stuff- I just liked to have a shop. I offered him ½ the space. He worked out of there for a couple years. He sold enough paintings to start stockpiling materials for a studio behind his place. I helped him get the foundation right but I was so busy at the time I couldn’t even give him a few days for the framing but my brother did, so that worked out well. I helped with the roof. I made a nice sign that swung out that said, “L’Artist est ici”. He could move it to show whether he was inside or not. Doug was a good plumber and electrician so I got him work on all my small renovation jobs in town. As a carpenter, he was a wood butcher. His paintings took many weeks, sometimes months. One of ours called “Niblock’s Hill” consumed $800 of acrylic. I can’t say how many times we dropped by the paint shop and I told him I had a spare $100 or I would put $50 in his used syringe jar. I knew he used up a lot of gesso paint so I would often drop off a tub of that in his studio. I would buy his paintings on installment, $100 a month for two years, even then they were expensive but they were breathtakingly beautiful and some of them made me burst into tears and he would say, “Well Parker, it’s not that awful!” He and his wife were first rate chefs and had our boys over very often over that nearly 15 year period. I would stop by his studio at least 1-2 during the week and see how a painting was progressing.
On almost every weekend we’d get together and sing and drink, he was a good guitar player. Then we’d pause and talk art for a while. He’d always ask me over at certain times to look at a piece. He’d ask for my opinion several times throughout the making of a painting. My criticisms were always very specific, about a color or a shape/shadow/line or why I didn’t like something that was jarring and sometimes I only had things to say that were positive, like I like how you did the transition between this area and that one, or this blue on this side is terrific. He just wanted my reactions, emotional or otherwise. He had been trained as a sculptor, like my mother and so we connected. The two of them got along like a house on fire. Whenever he was visiting with my mom or she with me (and therefore his studio as well) there were howls of laugher and a lot of close squinting at art. He lives in Emmitsburg, Maryland in a lovely wooded area. I miss him all the time. Leaving Frederick ten years ago I told Laurie the only thing I would really miss was my shop and Doug.
Ooh, all for nurturing the inner child. Thank you for sharing 🙏🏼😊
Carole this poem is so touching. I felt like that little girl, too. Your art! I saw the parade! There are fabric shops but many people now buy second hand clothes and repurposed fabric from those! 🌟
Thanks for the suggestions on sewing. A lot of fabric gets wasted. I’m glad you saw the parade! You have a good imagination 😊.
Ah I do! It’s a blessing and can be a curse at times, too!✨
That could've been myself as a child. Too short hair, the clothes. I was too thin though and got teased for that. I'm letting my child out at my older age now;)
Good for you! ❤️
you are treasure
from one little girl
to another
this one never grew up
never will
I see us both
in your parade
I’m so glad someone sees it!
Go ahead and let her out. It will be ok.
I'm glad she is still in there. Nourish her and she will amazed you.
Thanks for the encouragement, Fred. I might be waiting a long time!
Carole tender poem, and beautiful paintings.
I also play the flute...not often enough any more! When I used to play jazz around town I'd bring my guitar and my flute and usually wind up playing the flute because guitar players are a dime a dozen...😂
I should take it out and start playing again now that I'm retired...
You should get it out! I have a lack of time and also motivation, with nowhere to play and nothing to prepare for. Also not retired (yet).
Thank you❤️ what joy your beau6iful "improper" painting. I love these.
Thanks, Kitt! I love them despite their flaws. Someday I’ll get better.😊
I'm so jealous of you. You're so talented.
Awww. Gee thanks. Don’t be too jealous 😊.
no time like now...
I know. Inertia.
happens to the best of us. Not to me though ha ha. I take those anti-inertia tablets every morning with my beef shake and shitake omelettes.
Fabulous poem and your painting guided by inspiration is amazing art, Grüß Gott!
Thanks, Desiree. Looks like I’ve always liked color.🤣
Dear Carole, yes! It also looks like you liked the texture of paint and the shapes it makes when put on thickly so a nice way of expressing with depth in the work, I'd say. I have a similar way of playing with paint in my own way and I've also always loved paint in general, painting houses, or small 'just for fun' paintings, It is interesting to see the colours change when mixed or when wet or dry, paintings have a life of their own, kind regards, thank God for colour, Grüß Gott.
Young at heart! Thank you, Carole.
Thanks for reading, Paul!
Those are awesome paintings by the way, especially the ocean
An experiment😊