I had NO clue that she was still painting! Permit me to introduce to you the fabulous and investigative artist known as Ashlee J. Francis:
Ashlee is athletic - trainer- extroardinaire-to-the-starz! As an art teacher, I could NOT be more proud! She comes from a Loooooooong line of artsy-fartsy so-and-so's, and I am so proud of her. Show this artist some LOVE!
You can read her blog here...http://ashleetrisharder.blogspot.com/
Monday, January 16, 2012
...is that of Maurice de Vlaminck.
I was trudging through the Orsay of an afternoon, as only one can trudge after having spent the better part of a day gazing upon the greats of art history.
I passed into a small room, a window on the opposite wall.
I walked toward it and gazed at the art on my left and right.
Then I turned completely around to face the wall behind me...
...all of the air was sucked out of my body and my brains leaked out onto the floor as I took in the conglomeration of all of my favorite colours: red, yellow, orange, fuschia, all contained in one single master work : "Bougenville" is what I *think* it is called.
I was able to stand mere inches from it. I could see every single brush stroke. It was like my mouth and brain filled up with the taste of butter.
Anyway, I stumbled across this painting recently, in a book I purchased at the Orsay simply because it had an image of this painting in it. I was reminded of all those things that once inspired me. All of the hot colours that make me want to breathe again.
This is a coloured pencil sketch I did at work last week while we were slow. Just for fun, to remind myself of how I used to use pencils years ago. I remember now that I like coloured pencils....but this didn't scan so well for some reason. The original is FAR more vibrant and less...uh...funkified/pixilated and gross.
Anyway, I remember why I liked coloured pencils. :o)
There was a children's sized chair propped on the counter, on hold for a customer today. So we close at 5pm. At 3:45 I was looking for some interesting thing to do, having swept and done all that can be done etc, I found myself waiting on the clock to get to 5pm. So I slapped out a quick-n-dumb line drawing of the nearest thing to me which was the little chair. Dumping it into photo-shop I noticed what a combative stance the little chair had. I gave it an opponent and they engaged in the first High Desert Furniture Brawl ever depicted in any sort of media.
1 hour of boredom = Chair Fight.
... I stumbled upon the PBS special regarding your daughter Francesca.She certainly is a "Light" isn't she?Even so, when I saw your own works represented, for me they were like food...sometimes art strikes me oddly: as a thing that simultaneously consumes one, while one is consuming it.It is a glorious, ecstatic cycle that goes on and on.Like you, I am a mom.My heart thrills (and winces sometimes) at the fact that I have managed to raise glorious creative children. Each one entirely different in their bents and yet each one entirely amazing to me. Even the ones who are poets! ;o)When looking at the greatness of humanity, it is not necessarily those who have risen to great wealth and power in the tangible sense, who make global impacts, but it is those who are able to show heart, and love, compassion and humour; it is THOSE who are able to count themselves rich - perhaps not in gold or land - but in the company of friends, and of their creative encouragements to their fellow man on this journey toward God.As I look upon my own, I think of you, and I relish my own kids accomplishments, not merely in what they have done, but mostly in who they have managed to become so far.I could die today and be happy in that God has/is making them who they are supposed to be in HIS perfect plan/thingie/whatever.While I am not related to Betty Woodman in any way shape or form, I think of her as a sister in art - and yet to say such a thing, even in print, is to feel far too pompous on my part.See her works HERE, and read about her HERE.