I have been drawing all my life. I was told when I was just a wee little thing, my Daddy had given me an old book to look at. It had no pictures - I think it was one of his college math books or something. Anyway, he saw me being very busy and I was drawing little pictures in the margins of the book.
In the second grade, my teacher Ms. Lolly, told my parents I was talented with my drawing! Me? Very young me? She set up some oil painting classes for me during the summer. Now that really did help my drawing skills, didn't it? I took those classes and painted a forest with a fallen tree and some water. I don't know where that picture is, but my Mother kept it forever. I believe my teacher made her own paint and when I smell fresh oil paint today I can remember standing at her easel painting my little second grade heart out!
I don't have any siblings, so I grew up going to a lot of adult only households with my parents. So I always took my little drawing supplies along so I wouldn't get bored. Many portraits were scribbled on my little drawing pads, animals, etc.
Well, I continued to draw into Jr. High and then High School. I think I was about 15 when I drew the little girl. It's done in pencil and is old and faded now. I did take one year of art in High School. Do you remember in magazines there was a drawn picture that you could draw, send it in and the dear folks would determine if you could pursue a career in art, or maybe just go to art school? Well, I did draw the picture, I remember it was a ladies profile, sent it in and forgot about it. A person called and set up an appointment with my Mother, came to see her about me and talked about pursuing...but alas, I was married and wasn't interested at the time.
Then I decided I would try pen and inks. This I liked very much. I would draw something very lightly with my pencil and then go to town with my little special pen filled with ink!
I pen and inked these two bird pictures while we lived in Roswell, New Mexico! Yes, Dear Ones, Roswell. But it wasn't alien city then. Just nice folks. Anyway, I entered these in the county fair and one a blue ribbon - first place!
I've always loved the animals and pen and inked these little deer. I even was commissioned to pen and ink some special animals for folks and they actually paid me!
But, as time went on, my children were growing up and I was very busy doing other things and laid my pencils, pens and inks down. But I continued to draw...little cuties for school, church cookbooks, banners, posters, just fun stuff. Cartoony looking drawings, no more serious stuff! I have always thought I looked like a cartoon anyway! ;)We've recently built a new church and I was on the decorating team to choose the colors for painting the walls, carpet, etc. When we got to the nursery, the drawing light bulb went off in my little head and I thought, " I can draw cuties on the walls of the nursery!" All the team members were for it, so I drew silly little lambs!
Lambs holding up a banner so the babies could read that Jesus loves them. Can little babies read? Sure they can! ;)
Little lambs flying high in the sky hanging on to kites...
Silly little lambs peeping around the window...
More peeping...
Well, that's a little tidbit about me I thought I would share with you today! Should I have pursued an art career and become a most famous one? ;) Well, I think I've made the right decisions and am happy with my life. I guess I could still draw serious things, I don't know, haven't even tried in almost twenty years! But, honies, if you need a cartoon - I'll go to town on that one!Be a bunch of sweeties,
Shelia ;)
I'll leave you with a little Note Song~
Starry, Starry Night
this song makes me cry everytime I hear it :'(
this song makes me cry everytime I hear it :'(
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
~sung by Don McLean
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
~sung by Don McLean
