Hello, summer!

It's official: I'm on summer vacation. I have had to pinch myself to be sure.

Let's revise that: I HAVE BEEN on summer vacation since Tuesday, that is, after I posted the grades online.

Since the final exam, I had dithered, deliberated, over the grades I was going to assign, enduring repeated flashbacks of each student's quality of work, extents in efforts, time spent at the easel, pursued major, even individual temperament. I had lost sleep over the consequences of my "judgement". I consulted colleagues, even KDM on my criteria; I prayed for guidance and truthfulness.
In short, I took it seriously and suffered indecisions.

My deliberations and agonies paid off.

On the day the grades were due, having consumed my accustomed amount of a.m. coffee, I sat down by the computer, logged on the grade page, found the names, typed the grades in, submitted all, logged out, and never looked back.

I have no qualm for wanting to evict these names from my mind for a while. I've cared and fussed over them for sixteen weeks. I've alternately felt affection and contempt for them, justified and rebuked my conflicting emotions throughout; I've managed to come out wanting to be just fair and true (because I'm sorta under the yoke, and I don't mean just the ethics, you know?)...

Now I just want the leaf turned over and move on.

I commenced my release by making this painting -

May Flowers, oil on canvas,  8"x10" 

for my parish carnival which is set for this weekend. Being a true last-minuter, I started and finished it the day before yesterday, after three tumultuous (yes it's that serious) previous starts (painting has gotten painful in these parts, even a tiny and utilitarian one like this, but let me not digress). To speed up drying, I used extra dryer in the paint. Still, it will need a "wet paint" card beside it on the silent auction table.

Then, yesterday, KDM, the families of his two sons, and I went to Crystal Bridges, to see the blockbuster Norman Rockwell exhibition that I had wanted so badly to see.

And we all had a ball, from KDM down to the 22 month-old. The size and diversity of the crowds, many gray-haired and in wheelchair, were like nothing I'd seen in all of my museum goings. Norman Rockwell have united the snobs and commoners alike in art. The museum, founded by members associated with a mega-business known for efficiency and organization, looked even a bit overwhelmed and disheveled. Nobody seemed to mind it, though. And I was all too happy to see so many flocking to an art house, and none needed my instruction or grading.

Too bad viewers weren't allowed to photograph either the works or the throng. But neither Norman Rockwell needs introduction nor does his work lack reproduced images. Still, I want to share this exhibition header from CB's website:

As I slowly recollect my story-telling, expressive consciousness, you may expect a little less desolation around this place.

Busy Hands

A few recent paintings of still life -

Remember Her?

 Ms Bass? Well, she turns 99 on this fine April day. I got to see her and wish her a Happy Birthday a few hours ago. She looked spunky and spiffy, sweet and serene, just as I remembered her from our last meeting at the opening of my art show in 2009.

It did my heart good to see her at 99 and going strong. Someone took a picture of us, which I don't have access to at the moment. For now, I have the memories:

with Ms Bass in 2009; she turns 99 today.

Update on Mama

Several of you have learned the news that my Mom was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, and have sent words of sympathy and prayers. I hope you know that your compassion strengthens me greatly in this trial, even though I have not said anything on the topic via this blog. Please forgive the tardy and allow me a brief update of Mom's condition.

She has gone to see a cancer expert practicing traditional Chinese medicine and is now in the first phase of treatment consisting of twenty-one days of frequent daily dosages of two drugs. I wish I were better versed in traditional Chinese medicine to let you in on their contents. Although both my parents worked in medical profession all their lives, neither in traditional field. Most likely, though, they are concoctions of various herbal and animal parts, to be made into an utterly bitter, a dark dark and rather scary looking brew and drunk, while others come in the form of more benevolent-looking capsules. I was told that she takes one nine, the other thirteen times a day. She manages well with the help of a maid.

This past Monday I Skyped with my older sister. She said Mom is in good spirit, and there has been evidence of progress the doctor had prescribed. My niece Mimi, the only other practicing Christian in the family (not counting Mom and Dad who were confirmed Catholic by a priest during my last visit in 2012), has been praying the St. Peregrine Novena, as have I. Thanks to my dear friend Jan, for pointing me to this great Saint. He has been a major nerve calmer in these days of fear and anxiety.

Again, I'm grateful for your prayers more than you will ever know, and that is not an exaggeration.

Mama & me in front of her rose patch, June 2012

Current Diversion

To spring break with love -

This is the fourth day I've worked on the painting, literally a work in progress.

As you can see, the upper part of the painting is in a rough stage. The tripes in the fabric behind the red box are a toss-up - to keep or not to keep, still a question. My present instinct is to keep, as the upper right hand corner of the painting needs something active, something near-vertical, like the stripes.

I'm already conceiving my next painting. As it is, the spring break will be all too short for starting another work.

Indeed I may spend the rest of the break trying to bring this one into fruition. Someone once said, a painting is never finished, it's given up.

I will post the final stage of the painting when it has been "given up."