My grandpa is one of those men who is hard-working, fun, a good teacher, humble, faith-filled and faithful…the list goes on. And, if I have the opportunity to marry some guy who reminds me of him, I’ll feel very blessed in that regard! I can only remember being in trouble with him once when I was a kid. My brother and I were fighting/squabbling while playing ping-pong at my grandparents’ cottage. Grandpa was tired of hearing us fight, so out came his gruff voice (the one that’s usually saved for commanding dogs to hush when they bark too much at the door), and he banished us from playing ping pong for the rest of that afternoon.
My main memories of him include patience – especially when teaching us tennis strokes or helping us learn to fish. Patience…and a colorful vocabulary. Now, many of you probably think that means he swears like a sailor, but I’ve never heard a curse word on his lips. No. His colorful vocabulary consists of: Hookie-doo (meaning: cock-eyed, out of whack, needs to be fixed); Unreal! (meaning: no way!, I can’t believe it! amazing!); schnockered (technically means drunk/tipsy, but in his vocab it means you got beaten soundly in Mario Kart or some other Nintendo game). Yes, he’s played video games ever since they were invented. He owned several major systems through the years, including Atari 5200 (which is now in my basement and on which I still play Pac-Man and Jungle Hunt). I remember him teaching my baby brother, Christopher, how to play Nintendo when he was a toddler. They’d be sitting next to each other, Grandpa’s bulk next to Christopher with a pacifier in his mouth, learning how to shoot ducks in Duck Hunt.
Like most men, Grandpa avoids going to the doctor when possible. I remember a day when he went fishing and caught a fish-hook in the palm of his hand. He took the hook out, cleaned the wound, and only complained of the pain when he tried to play tennis later in the day. It hurt to hold his racket, though he was determined to play anyway. He’s a tough guy but never a mean guy!
I appreciate that my grandpa has always been a faithful husband. He and Grandma recently celebrated their 66th anniversary. In all of those years, he’s been a provider, a stronghold, and has loved Grandma and worked with her as a team. They each give strength to the other. And, they’ve lived a life of faith, relying on God for strength and provision as well. Grandpa doesn’t think of himself as especially wise or Bible-smart (probably because Grandma has tons of the Bible memorized, and he compares himself to her). But he’s a man I can go to for prayer and wisdom, counsel, and insightful listening. He’s the man who (all through college and many years after) ended his emails to me with Psalm 118:24 ~ “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!” I heard that from him so often it’s become the verse that rings in my head as I wake up each morning. A good way to start the day! A good reminder that no matter how my day is going, I can praise God for His hand in it. I do thank God regularly for the grandparents He’s given me. And I treasure each day I have with them.
About the artwork:
This piece was completed as a demonstration for my Drawing 1 students. We’re trying something new this semester – scribble portraits! It’s a pen & ink technique that’s faster than stippling (where the entire image is made from dots). However, the scribble mark-making is tricky because you can’t control it as easily as you would dots/stipple. If you want to try a scribble portrait at home, here are a few tips I shared with my students:
- Use a reference image with strong value range/lighting and clear details. Change the photo to black and white when you print it out, so that you’re focused on value and not on color.
- Less is more! Use very few marks in the light areas. It’s always easier to go back and add more marks than to try to lighten an area that’s too dark. Paint pens or white out can be used for small mistakes and touch-ups.
- Prop up your desk/table top while working. Step back from your artwork and look at it from 5+ feet away to see how everything’s blending. The scribble marks will look strange from up close. But, when done right, they blend beautifully from far away. Pause and check your work continually to ensure you’re capturing nuances of muscle, tendons, cheek bones, etc.
- Change pen sizes. Three pen sizes were used in the making of this portrait. One was a small (.7 mm) gel pen for tight spots and areas where I wanted thinner marks/lines. The 2nd was an ultra-fine Sharpie marker for most details in the face and hair. Third was a fine-tip Sharpie for the dark areas of the sweater. I worked on 18″ x 24″ paper to keep my pen strokes loose.
- Failure IS an option! Don’t be afraid to trash your first attempt if you blow it. It’s better to start over and improve on technique than to cover half the face in white-out because you refuse to admit failure. There is no particular scribble pattern required. Look up examples online, and you’ll see several artists who have made a career from this technique. Experiment with line patterns, and have FUN!
My nephew is a funny guy. You wouldn’t think it just to look at him, because straight-faced humor is his forte’. For example, we’re all at a family party a couple of years ago. I’m standing with the adults, chatting about my new Rav4, comparing its mileage with that of my old Honda. Little guy is nearby, listening to all the adult conversation. He decides to chip in. “I get pretty good mileage on my bike!” he announces. “Yeah?” I reply, “What kind of mileage do you get?” “Oh….to the end of the street and back.” We all start laughing! The glint of a smile in his eye is the only hint that he’s not serious. He knew he was being funny. Not long ago my sister signed him up for drama club because she realized we needed to put this wit to work. So, last spring I went to see him and his older sister in their school’s production of Lion King. He played one of the hyenas and could be seen enthusiastically scratching his fleas on stage.
Well, a few weeks ago I needed reference imagery for a portrait demonstration in one of my classes. I’ve painted some of my nieces before but haven’t tackled any of my nephews. So, I found a good photo of him and used it for the project in class. We were studying color schemes. I showed my students how to play with filters and colors in Photoshop to simplify their reference imagery and change their original photos to something that fit one of the color schemes we’d studied. For mine, I went with complementary colors. Complementary colors are “opposites” on the color wheel. I tell my kids, think of “opposites attract”…the quiet guy is often interested in the talkative girl. Each of them brings out the best of the other. The same goes for colors. If you put green next to blue, the two colors (being similar) will kind of blend into each other. But, if you put green next to its opposite (red) the two visually have nothing in common. So, each makes the other look brighter/more vibrant. For this painting, I shifted slightly from the red/green pair to red-violet and yellow-green. When I’d basically finished painting, it needed something to really finish it off and tie the segmented colors together. I took my brush with a pale yellow-green on it, and added just a few swipes of that color into sections of the eyes, eyelid, hair, and background. That did it! When you’re working on a painting, look for ways like that to bring color from one section of the design into areas that don’t have that particular color. Even little touches can help tie everything together and balance the composition.
When I sent the finished portrait to my nephew, I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. He might think it “weird” that I’d painted his face in shades of purple. But he LOVED it! He apparently walked around saying, “This is Sooooooooooooooooo Good! It looks just like me!” He showed it to the family chiropractor that day at an appointment. And, he sent me a photo, waving at me with the painting in front of his face. Fun reaction! Well worth the effort of painting it.
A couple of weeks ago, a recent grad walked into my classroom. He was wondering whether I could use Photoshop to put a “painting” filter over a photo of himself and his fiancé. With an anniversary coming up, he wanted to give her something special, but with only a week’s notice, he knew I wouldn’t have time to do an actual portrait of the two of them. Before leaving, he said, “So, do you have any students like me this year?” I laughed and replied, “Alonzo, I’ve never had another student quite like you!”
I first had Alonzo in class as a senior, so there wasn’t the usual rapport developed over 4 years of high school between myself and him. He’s a guy built for playing football, generally friendly, leadership qualities, and definitely outspoken. There were times in class where I’d say, “Alonzo, shut it!” (meaning his mouth) when he’d speak without care of what the other person thought. He’s the kind of kid who will ask you to toss him an eraser or pencil sharpener because he doesn’t feel like getting up to go get one. Yet he’d also stay after class a minute or two to clean up messes other people had left behind.
In spite of the tough or pompous persona, I quickly learned that beneath all that is a big heart and a humble, get-the-job-done attitude about whatever he tackles (no football pun intended). So, I wasn’t surprised to hear by the end of senior year that he had fallen in love with a young lady and her baby girl and was planning to get married soon after high school. He’ll tackle husband-hood and father-hood in the same way he handles most things…probably saying the wrong things sometimes, but making up for it with a caring, humble, get-it-done attitude about daily life and love. I could tell he was already off to a good start. Because, when he walked into my room the other day, baby girl was asleep in his arms. He had made the rounds of the office, showing off this beautiful, sleeping bundle. She looked quite comfy and obviously trusts the strength and provision of the arms that were holding her.
With all that in mind, I decided a Photoshop filter wouldn’t cut it for this anniversary gift. So, I made time for a watercolor portrait. Alonzo was thrilled when he heard about the up-grade and asked if I could include the phrase, “I love you to the moon and back,” below the painting. While I didn’t scan that part for a blog post, I thought it deserved mentioning. “To the moon and back” is quite the measurement! May we all be willing to love that immeasurably: putting our words to action, tackling the hard times whenever they come, and having fun along the way.
The “scent of home” – if I were to ask you what that means to you, what would you say? I’m not talking about the Febreze commercials where your son’s room smells like a gym locker. This is more along the lines of a scene in Disney’s Ratatouille where the food critic flashes back to a moment in childhood, sitting at a rustic kitchen table where someone who loves him has prepared a meal for him. Each of us have experienced moments like that, where a sight or scent triggers memories of a time and place that once was home. For me it can be fresh sawdust, taking me back to hours spent in my dad’s workshop, sawing and hammering as a child. Or, a salty sea breeze, and I’m suddenly 7 years old again, building castles and burying jellyfish in wet sand by the Atlantic Ocean. Certain soaps remind me of my grandmother’s house and of her hug. Home. For some, “home” is about the people around you. For others, it’s a place or country where you were raised or spent years of your life. I’ve heard that missionary kids, military families, and others who moved several times growing up may struggle to pinpoint a particular place they’d call “home.” Yet we all have an idea of what home is or could or should be.
Today’s portrait is based on a senior photo-shoot I did several years ago. When I talked with Anya about what setting she’d like for her photos, she mentioned a prairie preserve nearby. She said the prairie paths and flowers reminded her of the Ukraine where she grew up. Anya is an American citizen now. So, in most ways, America is home now. But yellow and blue is woven into the fabric of her character, her values, her family’s cultural heritage. If you look up the meaning behind the Ukrainian flag, you find that yellow represents fields of wheat, and the blue symbolizes sky, mountains, and streams. No surprise then that nature, fields of wild flowers, and fresh air are the “scent of home” for Anya.
C.S. Lewis talks about the common human longing for our own “far-off country.” In The Weight of Glory (Oxford, 1942) he says, “These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire…but they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never visited.” He goes on to comment about philosophies that try to “convince you that earth is your home…by trying to persuade you that earth can be made into heaven, thus giving a sop to your sense of exile in earth as it is.” But, he continues, “we remain conscious of a desire which no natural happiness will satisfy.”
For myself, I can attest to a feeling that the sense of “home” I long for is elusive. Were I to return to my 7-year-old self at the beach, would I really savor the sun on my face and the salty taste on my tongue? Or would I more likely be squabbling with my brother about who gets to use the shovel next, and nervous about jellyfish stings when I do dive into the waves? Time has a way of filtering our memories. Like a soft-focus lens, it blurs the edges, emphasizing what we want, need, long for and deemphasizing other details. According to Lewis, “home” is elusive, not because it never existed, but because our desire points us to a home we haven’t visited yet…a “splendor, which nature fitfully reflects.”
Anya is someone I’m blessed to know, because she and her family live out their faith. And, in living out that faith, they remind me of “home.” When we’re goofy and laughing and joyful, it’s a taste of joy that will one day become eternal reality. When we’re talking about the ups and downs of life, they keep me grounded in the truth that there is more to this world than what I see with my eyes. When we’re introducing one another to foods from the other’s culture, it’s a tidbit, a sampling of the coming feast in a country we haven’t yet visited. When we’re shooting photos in a field of wildflowers, the colors and scents surrounding us are merely a ghosting of the flower we have not found…the aroma of a home yet to come.
It’s been way too long since I’ve had a chance to post…not that I haven’t been painting! But May was taken up with sample paintings for a possible book project, school finishing, and diving straight into curriculum writing for a chunk of June. So, I’m just now getting back into a more regular rhythm with time for blog and personal projects.
The painting above is me (the cute one in the middle) with my two older siblings, a portrait painted recently for my sister’s birthday. Looking back at old family photos is such a funny time-warp. The hair styles, couch and pillow scream “late 70’s/early 80’s” – in fact, my sister wondered why I didn’t update her hairstyle when painting the portrait. But the Mary Lou Retton haircut was in then, so I’m sure Jenny looked stylish for the time. I can’t see much (if any) of current me in the baby version here. However, seeing my siblings at those ages reminds me of my nieces and nephews now. We have photos of Jenny’s daughters with that exact sideways glance, tilted head, coy expression on their faces. And any photo of Jeremy looks identical to his eldest boy. I could even venture to say that my youngest niece resembles my baby photos, with her round cheeks, turned-up nose, and dark hair falling across the top of her head. The Bozarth genes run strong.
Working on this portrait brought back a lot of childhood memories. Jenny braiding my hair, while I sat and whined that she was pulling too hard. Jeremy teaching me how to pace my steps for a hook shot in basketball, or letting me try out his juggling equipment and showing me how to juggle various items. Jeremy instigating trouble and then sitting back to watch us younger siblings squabble it out. Jenny letting me troop along with her and her friend Laura in the woods behind Laura’s house…showing me how to suck the sweet nectar from honeysuckle flowers, and consoling me when I screamed as a snake slithered around my feet on the forest path. Years of sharing a room with Jenny, and her recounting of my random sayings when I’d talk in my sleep. Asking Jeremy for help with math or science homework, and trying to listen as he’d explain 5 different ways of solving the problem when I really just wanted 1 easy answer.
Any of you who know me well probably hear me talk about my siblings on a regular basis. They crop up naturally in conversation because they continue to be part of every-day life. Making time to hang out with my brothers and sister isn’t as easy as it was when we were kids. Of course, sharing a room or being packed shoulder to shoulder in a car for 17 hours was never thought of as quality time. However, those forced situations of time together helped build the foundation for our relationships now. Living within 40 minutes of each other, it’s easy to let months slip by where we’re each consumed with our own fast-paced schedule. We have to be purposeful in calling and connecting. I realize I’m blessed to have siblings I still want to know and spend time with. And, though I don’t necessarily learn from them as I did when little, I do still look up to them in many ways. They’ve taught me about life and marriage, parenting, faith, work-ethic, budgeting, priorities, and family. Some of those lessons currently apply in my life; others I may use down the road. Besides the serious stuff, my siblings are also fun to be around! If you ask any of my nieces and nephews, they’d probably tell you that we can be pretty goofy when hanging out together – perhaps it’s because spending time together takes us right back to childhood, bringing out our silly sides. We let go the stresses of our adult responsibilities and take a few moments to flash back to when we were the kids in those photos.
If you have siblings, take some time to look back and remember who you were. Then, take a look now and see who you are. If those relationships aren’t what you’d like them to be, you can’t necessarily change who you’ve all become. But you can always work toward restoration, reaching out when and how you’re able. And, if you’re on the cusp of adult-hood, waiting for the chance to get far away from your siblings, pause before you run. Remember the good times when possible, forgive the hurts (with God’s help…not something you can do on your own), and be open to staying connected in the years to come.
I often tell my students to take process photos of their work so that they can see how the painting changed and developed. But I never remember to do this myself! Over spring break I was teaching my cousin some tips on watercolor portrait painting. For once, I made a point of photographing my progress. So, I figured I’d share a bit of that process with you here.
Before starting a watercolor, I project and trace from sketches and/or photo references. White paper can feel intimidating – where do I start!? The best way to start is by toning the paper with a very pale wash of yellow ochre. The only areas I’ll avoid are (possibly) sky and any bright highlights that need to stay pure white. Use a large brush for this, spreading the wash across the page, and deepening any areas that will eventually be darker. From here, I’ll mix skin tones (yellow ochre and either cad red or alizarin crimson), beginning to build up midtones and shadows in the face. I leave the highlights and build around them. As you can see, at this point I’ve also started light washes of blue and lavender in the scarf. Deeper shadows in skin and around the eyes are done with either a red-violet or blue-violet. Using too much brown makes skin look cold or muddy.
Now I need a bit of context for the face. Where is she standing; what color tones surround her? So, I take a break from skin tones and start laying in the brick pattern behind her. Here again I start with light washes of pink, then layer in midtones of reddish-brown, finishing off with texture and shadows in darker browns. I like to finger paint texture. By that I mean I’ll dab a bit of color onto the brick, then swipe my finger across it to smudge and soften the mark. This gives me rough, organic edges, creating depth in the surface of each brick. At this point I’m also using the negative space (bricks around her hair and neck) to help define and refine the shape of her face.
Time now for hair, scarf, and shirt! Her hair was pulled back in the photo, but I don’t want her to look too masculine. So, I’ve added wisps of hair, stray locks that blow in the breeze, giving more of that feminine touch. Now that there is color behind her head, I have a better idea of how deep I need to go with shadows in the face and neck to give form and contrast to her features. Moving to a smaller brush, I begin to tighten details in the face. Meanwhile, I’ve blocked in a basic blue in the shirt and can start building darker shadows in the scarf and clothing. Subtle shadows between the bricks (in the mortar) are made with a mix of ultramarine blue and burnt umber (Payne’s Grey would also work, mixed with brown).
Jumping ahead, here I’ve continued brick work and started to block in the forms of light fixtures. As always, I lay in lighter washes first, then build the midtones and darks around them. The same grey tone I used in mortar is used for the lamps and sweater. By the end of this I swore I’d paint no more bricks for a very long time! I always complain about lacking the patience needed to do patterns in clothing…brick walls now fall into that category. The sky, clouds, and background buildings were saved for last. These needed to be kept simple, basic shapes, and soft edges to maintain focus on the figure in the foreground.
I’ve made a short video (40 seconds), clipping all of the process photos together. So, if you’d like to see it from start to finish, click here.
As a side note, this portrait is of a young friend (more like family) whose birthday happens to be this week! The shot is from a series of senior photos I took for her when she graduated high school. When I finished the painting, I realized I hadn’t included her freckles! So, I had to go back and add just a hint of freckles to her face. She (and her sister) told me later that the shot I chose to paint happens to be one of her favorites from the senior photo series. The expression, the whimsy, the vibrant colors, and the composition/setting are all reasons it’s one of my favorite photos as well.
Happy Birthday, Masha – love you lots!
I’m finally back with another in the Portraits of Scotland series! While in Scotland, we spent several weeks on isles, with the sea visible or within easy drive of where we stayed. Tobermory, on the Isle of Mull, was no exception. We stayed in Harbour Guest House on Tobermory High Street, which is the main street that curves around, hugging Tobermory harbour. Tobermory is the capital of Mull because, with a population of 700, it’s one of the few places large enough to be considered a town rather than a village. You may remember mention of it in my post about the Leather Artisan. Well, having spent so much time around the sea, and having eaten fish and chips to our heart’s delight, I hoped to find a fisherman who would let me paint his portrait.
Our very last day on Mull (even as we were packed up and ready to drive back to the mainland), I stopped in at a shop to pick up a glass fusing piece I’d made the day before. When I came back to the car, my mom said, “Mollie, weren’t you hoping to paint a fisherman? I’ve been watching this man climb nimbly down a narrow metal ladder to his boat. I can’t believe his agility! He must be nearly 70, but he’s up and down that ladder in the blink of an eye! This is your chance! Ask him whether he’d mind if you take his photograph.” So, I approached the fisherman. It was a quiet morning, still fairly early, and he was alone – no crew with him. I figured he had simply been checking on something in the boat, and I was right. Funnily enough, his first response when I asked about taking his photo was, “Does my hair look alright?” This is the same question Alan (the Leather Artisan) asked before I photographed him!…must be a Tobermory thing. Well, the fisherman’s white hair was blowing in a harbour breeze, so I laughed and said it looked fine. Like several of the people I approached, he was surprised anyone would want to paint his portrait. Perhaps the tourist-painter intrigued him. Perhaps he was merely complying with an odd request. Whatever the motivation, he agreed. And, while I took a few photos, we chatted.
I asked about his work. We’d eaten fresh lobster the night before. Had he caught those lobsters? He said that all of the lobsters his crew catch are actually shipped overseas…makes more money than selling it locally. I asked whether he had children who’ve followed in his footsteps career-wise. He said he has no sons. But his two daughters married fishermen, and his sons-in-law work with him. It was a short conversation, a brief glance into his life. But each of these portraits has opened doors for me to learn something of the people of Scotland. They are humble, yet proud; hospitable and friendly; they work hard and value tradition; they highly value family and community. Possibly because their towns and villages are so small, a sense of community is inevitible…for better or worse, everyone seems to know everyone else. I asked whether he knew Alan, and he said, “Aye, of course! I know him well.” My favorite part of this particular portrait is the fisherman’s stance. Hands are jammed solidly into his pockets. Weatherbeaten and ruddy, his face holds the wrinkles of sunshine and wind, laughter and life. His eyes are used to peering out across the water, whether through glaring sun, storm, or fog. No fancy airs or moment taken to brush his hair…the wind would blow it again anyway. He is a man’s man, a working man, a provider for his family, comfortable in his own skin. The stance says, “Here I am! If you want to paint a portrait, you’re welcome. Just make sure my boat is included. For my boat is part of who I am.”
This illustration is actually a compilation of several photos taken during our days on Mull. The jetty where the fisherman stood was lined with lobster cages. Beyond those you could see the panoramic view of iconic Tobermory shops. The red, yellow, and blue group of shops in particular is well-known. Apparently, they appear in a BBC children’s show called Balamory. I’m a little old to watch the show now, but the Scottish accents are fun! In designing this scene, I took the photo of the fisherman with his boat, combined it with photos of the panorama and lobster cages, then added in a couple seagulls for good measure. Huge seagulls are the other “fishermen” of Tobermory. Whether swooping and diving below the water’s crest, or scavenging bits of fish left by the pros, they’re always interested in the day’s catch. Just a few feet from this scene (kind of behind and to the left) was the fresh fish-&-chips vendor. This tiny trailer sold fish that had been caught fresh that morning. You’d tell them what kind of fish you wanted (halibut, cod, etc.), they’d pull it out of the fridge, dip it in batter, and fry it right there in front of you. Then they’d toss it onto a bed of hot chips, and you could add vinegar or ketchup before carrying your treasure home to feast. It was so good, Mom and I literally ate there 3 out of 4 nights on Mull! If you look above the Tobermory shops, you’ll see one more iconic building. The Western Isles Hotel, up on the hill, is one of the filming locations for the 1945 Wendy Hiller movie, I Know Where I’m Going. Wonderful film! If you’ve never seen it, check it out!
Well, this concludes our tour of Tobermory. Of all the places we visited, this is a top one on my list to visit again. If you’re ever there yourself, keep an eye out for my friend Alan and for his neighbor, the fisherman.