Quotidian #8

This is the eighth attempt at painting this view of my living room in the afternoon light.  Here's the thing, I am trying to learn to be content with each little step forward in my work.  Today, I am content that I really GOT the light hitting the left edge of the sofa...I am happy with that!  Tomorrow I will make a little more progress...Oh this is a 6"x6" oil on board.

Quotidian # 7

Okay, I just figured out why I am painting interiors.  I am taking a quiet time.  I have essentially, and happily, put myself in a time out.  This is a 12" x 12" oil on canvas.  I consciously tried to make pretty colors while being true to the rooms colors and values.

Quptidian # 6

This is an oil on canvas board, 8" x10".  It is an interior study of another view of my new living room.
But in this one, I am studying the lamplight at night as it illuminates the built in bookshelves and casts strong shadows toward the front door.   As you know, I am obsessed with looking and looking...at everything.  It takes me a really long time to really see what I am looking at...so painting it helps me see it more fully.  Speaking of seeing, I just saw an amazing little film called "Advanced Style".  It derives from a blog by Ari Seth Cohen's blog by the same name and was made by a film maker who is only 27!, her name is Lena Plioplyte.  It is about women in New York who don't care about getting older, they just care about looking fabulous at any age. It is such an uplifting, kind and creative film.  We all clapped at the end.  Please run to see it...it will make you see/look at/care and be curious about those round you.  P.S. My living room is 78 yrs old and she looks pretty terrific!

Quotidian # 5

Today I went to the doctor (MY doctor) in Arizona.  It was a follow-up appt., to make sure that I was healing after an event that sent me to a strange ER while traveling in California.  I am of a certain age,  that is to say, I get senior citizen discounts at movies and stores now.  I don't particularly feel old, I feel sort of special and fortunate to have made it this far in life.  But here's the thing:  I DO remember a time when certain things were different.  For example, I remember when I had a family doctor, and she KNEW me.  I mean really knew me, and my husband, and my children.  Even her nurse knew me.  Oh, and the receptionist knew me.  Well those people retired, and now I have people who almost never look at me.  When they are in the exam room with me, they enter data ABOUT me into a computer.  And to find out what is wrong with me, they don't ask me, or look at me, they read off a computer and mumble the particulars of "my situation" to themselves.  As I wait, I keep thinking, "I could TELL you that stuff".  But maybe they are afraid that I will ramble, and be inefficient or I won't tell them accurate information about myself.  Or maybe...I am being abused at home (I am NOT) and that would open a whole can of worms and take too much time...so best to stick with the computer, and not spend time either talking to me or looking at me.  I just think that the most important part of what we now call "Health Care" is the 'care' part.  And I do not feel 'cared' for when I am not seen, nor heard.
So this image is an interior that I painted.  It is a 6" x6", oil on board.  I am in a getting acquainted stage with my house and the various rooms in it.  I am noticing how the light spills into different rooms throughout the day...the kitchen, dining room and my studio in the morning...the bedroom, bathroom, and living room in the afternoon.  I am painting the afternoon sunlight that pours into the living room over and over.  This is the first time that I painted it, and I am noticing more and more as I continue to look and paint.  What if I just measured the rooms and thought that I knew them.  What if I told you how many inches each of my children were, and then assumed that I had given you a full picture of them.  It sounds silly doesn't it.