Rockin' in the Summertime -Paint Party Friday

The rock you see above is about the size of my thumb.  I have been painting rocks and leaving them all around town.  It is SO fun.  I rarely hear back from those who find them, but knowing I can spread beauty and kindness...some kind of joy into people's lives, is precious to me.

The rock with waves is about the size of the palm of my hand.  I loved painting it.  The camera doesn't do these paintings justice.  They are like small jewels.  I have SO much fun putting them out around the park and downtown area.

I hope you have a lovely weekend, dear ones and Happy Paint Party Friday.

Safety in the Storm -Paint Party Friday

I finished In the Storm for my sweet brokenhearted Friend.  At first I was not sure about the storm clouds--but I loved them after they were colored in.  In this drawing a broken heart is given into the hand of One who understands heartbreak and who is our refuge, strength and is always close in times of great distress.

David, the gentle Psalmist writes, "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging..."  ~ Psalm 46: 1-4

Psalm 23 describes the Good Shepherd who loves and shelters his sheep.  I am so grateful for His love--and that he is near to me when my heart hurts the most.  In Psalm 34, the Psalmist sings these encouraging words, "He is near to the brokenhearted; He rescues those who are crushed in spirit " 

This morning a storm has blown in.  The day started with a beautiful sunrise, too!  Thank you for dropping by, sweet Friends.  Your comments brighten my entire day!  May blessing, joy and peace be yours.

Comfort in the Storm -Paint Party Friday

This is a gift I have been working on.  It is for a precious Friend, a little sister--who's heart has been broken.  I feel so helpless...   There is nothing I can do, except to pray for her. 

The Psalmist wrote, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted; He rescues those who are crushed in spirit."  This is my prayer for my sweet Friend and for all of you whose hearts have been broken.  That you would not feel abandoned.  So often when stricken with grief one feels so alone.  But we are not.  The Shepherd who loves us always lingers near. 

I love the Shepherd.  It is He who watches over me and my heart.  I have learned to trust the Shepherd with heartbreak--He is near to the brokenhearted.  He understands like no other.  "Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted." ~Matthew 5:4

Please click on the thumbnail to see the drawing closeup.  The thumb pic doesn't do it justice!  :D  Thank you for dropping by.  Your comments and sweet words mean so much to me.  Have a lovely weekend, dear ones!

Sheltering Hands -Paint Party Friday

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say to the Lord,

"My refuge and my fortress, My God, in whom I trust."

~Psalm 91:1, 2

His Shadow overshadows Life's Shadows.  
Take heart, be strong, 
There is great Hope 
In the midst of life's gathering storms

I am re-posting this drawing, because I am still ill and don't feel like doing much.  I've been sick for about two months now...   So, I finally went to see the doctor for the third time and she says I have pneumonia.  With antibiotics, I hope to feel better in a few days.  Which will be good, because I am speaking at a Women's Retreat this coming weekend!  Of all things, our subject is "Journey to Joy."

You are such a blessing to my heart when you come by.  Happy Paint Party Friday! ((hugs))

Shelter in the Storm -Paint Party Friday

A couple of nights ago we had a huge windstorm with pounding rains--this cute little drawing, inspired by a vintage postcard, was born during that storm!  Thankfully there was not any damage to the property, other than a big canopy which escaped its tethers to land on its head in the alley next to the house.

The storm was quite an adventure! The wind was so strong at times it wiffled its way through the sealed air conditioner, causing the curtains to puff and breathe. 

With every additional noise, my little friend, Toez the Polydactyl Cat, became more tense.  Her sleepy eyes grew wider as she slowly perked her ears forward.  Then her sudden saucer eyes began to glow bright yellow. Especially when the wind began to howl down the chimney. I could see the hair on her nape rise, and her nostrils twitch as she considered the sound.

Abruptly she leaped from her comfy spot in front of the fireplace to skitter up the stairs, flying back downstairs, sounding like a herd of miniature elephants.

I giggled as she stealthily climbed to the top of the fat chair by the front window moving the curtains aside to position her nose against the glass. When she tired of the view, suddenly she was stalking something on the floor. I couldn't see anything there--but whatever it was seemed to tremendously interesting. Every now and again, she would suddenly leap straight up into the air, then go back to snooting yon non-existent bug...

I did try to go to sleep--the wind was a nice lullaby. However each time I was finally close to curling up and dropping off, Toez would catapult herself onto my shoulder, to walk stiff-legged across my arm, onto my hip, skipping on her kitty toes down to my feet.  This, of course, left me pop-eyed and wide awake.

I did manage to sleep toward morning as the storm eased. Thank the Lord for that!

Happy Paint Party Friday!  May the adventures of your New Year be glorious and fun!  Blessings and peace, dear Friends--thank you for dropping by.

Daddy, Tell Me a Story -Paint Party Friday

I posted this once before, back in 2009.  I have been so busy, I just haven't had time to do much art, so hence this post.

This Cloud Painting takes me back to when my children were small. Every night when we'd tuck them into their beds inevitably one of the kids would say, "Daddy, tell me a story..."
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My Beloved was a wonderful storyteller.  Over the years--since they were tiny babies--Alan would tell them fantastical bedtime stories about a mysterious Sea Captain. The Sea Captain became so real the kids once stopped a man in Oregon's coastal town of Lincoln City, to ask if HE was the Sea Captain.
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Each of the Sea Captain stories had a theme.

One evening the story he told was to teach the children to call upon God in times of trouble. The lights were were low. Alan lay on his back on the old waterbed, the girls perched on his outstretched arms. They were on a boat in the open sea.
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Suddenly a storm blew up out of nowhere! The wind was ferocious, the ship began to rock. I provided the "sound effects for the wind."

Alarmed the Sea Captain began to shout orders. Alan's up-flung arm became the mast, as our youngest daughter began to pull in the sails. On the other side, the eldest was ordered to "frappe" the boat as the waves of the sea grew higher and higher. Our young son, the official thundercloud, began to bounce up and down on Dad's feet. The lightning flashed! I flickered the overhead lights. And the thunder grew louder and louder!
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The boat began to bounce and rock dangerously from side to side! The thunder growled and the clouds grew darker and darker. I switched off the bedside lamp. It began to rain furiously. The deck was so slippery no one could walk without being swept out to sea! Giant waves were splashing clear up over the ship!
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"Nothing more can be done!" cried the Sea Captain. "What should we do?"
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But all that rocking had put one little sailor nearly to sleep. She opened one eye, and with a huge yawn she replied, "Call 911!"

Alan was a great Dad.  We all miss his stories and wonderful jokes.  Sunday afternoon, the kids and I sat around the fire pit playing music and sharing stories and laughter, as we often did when Alan was here.  We will miss Alan for the rest of our lives.  He was such a wonderful man.  He filled our world with color, laughter and song.  What a blessing for those precious memories.

Here are the original clouds I photographed for the cloud painting Daddy, Tell Me a Story.  God bless you, dear ones.  Have a lovely week and Happy Paint Party Friday!

Sissy Clytie is Home!

This is a commissioned piece I've been working on.  It is a picture of how I see Psalm 91.  These verses show us that The Creator's shadow overshadows our life's shadows.   I couldn't get the camera to do the graphite drawing justice--so when I'm done adding pen and ink, along with color, I'll put it up for you.

I am posting this drawing in celebration of my darling Sister Clytie's release from the hospital.

God was protecting her! As you were Praying for Clytie, the emergency room doctor got a bee in his bonnet.  Though the tests had come back with inconclusive results -- normal or just a tiny bit high, that wonderful doctor was convinced there was a blockage -- he would not give up looking.  Amazing, amazing!  He even asked for two-year old data in order to find the problem.  Because of this doctor's dogged persistence Sissy is going to be just fine.

Clytie had an angiogram yesterday morning, during which the actual blockage was discovered.  They cleared the vein, and put in a stent.  I spent yesterday afternoon with Clytie in the hospital and had the huge pleasure of picking her up and bringing her home this morning.

THANK YOU everyone for your thoughts and prayers.  I know there was an angel hanging over that doctor's shoulder, telling him to look further, when the tests said something completely different than the truth.

You can visit Clytie to welcome her home, at Random Hearts.  She tells me she can hardly wait to go walking!!!

Shelter in the Storm

I love the red mushrooms in this drawing--though someone once told me most red mushrooms are poisonous! However, if they are I am convinced the faery folk are immune. Faery folk love to use mushrooms as giant umbrellas in stormy weather.

This small sparkle-eyed faery is one of those who frequent the forest near here. She sometimes comes to my garden to visit and tells stories you would not believe if you heard them. (grin) I know, I know, I have a GREAT imagination.

To draw this picture, I started out with a light pencil outline. I carefully inked in the lines I liked, erasing the remaining pencilings. Then I added color using my beloved Prismacolor pencils--which are wonderful because they are made with beezwax.

Spirit of the Mountains

When we were children, our family would go camping every summer. Those were glorious times, filled with adventure and intrigue. Even as adults, camping was a special event.
Before I was married, my fiancee joined my family in a trip to Strawberry mountain. Even the name sounds wonderful doesn't it?

Anyhow, one early afternoon while the guys and kids were at the lake fishing, Mum, Sissy and I watched in amazement as an old pickup barreled into the next campsite. In a rush and a frazzle the young couple threw a tarp over the entire vehicle, then climbed into the back of the truck to huddle beneath.

Suddenly there was a deafening bellow of sound comparable to what Rip Van Winkle must have heard--the powerful awesome thunder of nine-pins echoing back and forth against the mountainsides to rumble down into the earth between our toes.

Then it began to rain. It started softly enough, but quickly grew in intensity. Then our fire started to go out--we rushed around, gathering sticks and burnables from the surrounding woods, tossing more and more wood onto the fire until it raged and spluttered against the onslaught.

Rainwater ran unchecked from the crowns of our heads, into our eyes and faces. Hair wet and whipping, we kept adding to the flickering flames, as the skies grew ominously darker, and cruel lightning split the skies. Thunder boomed and the wind howled, throwing handfuls of rain and hail sideways against our aching bodies.

But the fire roared back in pure spite--so when the rest of our group tromped their cold and wet way into camp, warmth and firelight greeted them. As fast as the rain fell, the fire warmed us. Steam rose from our clothing to mingle with the downpour. And we smiled at one another, reveling in the pure adventure of it all.

Then, as quickly as it came, the storm departed, leaving the air clear and full of sunshine. Our neighbors came out from beneath their tarp, folded it up and went on their way.

The mountains can be dangerous and caprices. But in contrast to the violence which sometimes makes itself known, time spent in the mountains can be filled with the stillness of starlight, the aroma of pine, the crackle of the fire and poignant, fragrant memories of family togetherness.