
Friday, July 13, 2007
Vision-Watching TV

Vision-Vertical Lines
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Vision-Across The Desk

Vision - Another Weird Thing
Wavey Handrail 4.5" x 5.5" watercolorsThe principal spoke, papers were handed out to the audience explaining how the students did on the TAKS test, refreshments could be purchased in the cafeteria. After the program, visitors spread through the halls and rooms of the elementary school to meet the teachers who would be working with the students during the coming year.
It was a welcoming school and seemed like schools really should be. I could relax and enjoy visiting with the teachers and parents, especially since I no longer was the teacher. As a grandparent and retired teacher, I could talk about my grandsons and plans for the year with teachers I had known for years. No stress here.
I stood in the hall talking with a group of teachers. Exiciting things were in store for the third grade this year. Once the TAKS tests were over, they might even learn how to write in cursive. The hall went from the art room, past third grade rooms, to join another hall . Fluorescent lights in the ceiling cast their blue glow, while yellow lights from the rooms bounced across the walls. I looked at the perspective and lines as well as the colors and lighting in the halls, and looked for interesting poses of the people.
Was that distant hall always there? Or had it, perhaps been added during the remodeling during the summer? I realized that I had never been all the way down the hall. I always passed by the art room, or I only went as far as my grandson's classroom.
I wonder why the hand rail on that distant hall is wavey on the right side? Must be the cataracts again, just like those blinds the other day in my room at home. I blinked as the doctor had told me to do when I was told that I had the beginnings of cataracts. Too soon to do anything about them. I kept blinking, but the rail kept its wave.
I turned to go on to another room and tried to find other things that might be waving. Everything was normal. I looked back down the hall as I left, and it appeared straight. Blinking must have worked.
It was the floaters in my eyes that seemed to be a bit of an annoyance. The doctor had asked me if they looked like something under a microscope, and they did. When I first noticed them, I was still teaching. When I was bored and didn't feel it was appropriate to draw, write, or talk, in times like during some meetings, I would "play" with the things in my eyes. One large one in particular, shaped like a C, made a great ball to bounce. I played basketball, dribbled, shot baskets, and could throw it back and forth while my body was still and I was silent. I'll bet there are speakers who wonder what on earth was wrong with my eyes! Sometimes in church or other places where I had to stay awake and be quiet and still, I would draw with my eyes. I would trace or outline around walls, windows, posts, stained glass windows, and even people. In the choir, we faced an opposite wall instead of the congregation. One day, I was outlining away during church and was relieved that I was able to stifle yawns and stay awake with my little activity. After church, as people came to compliment the choir and the organist (my mother), one woman told me that I had the most expressive eyes! She said my eyes just danced all during the service. I smiled and thanked her. Little did she know that I had "drawn" most of the interior of the church, except for what was behind me, with my "dancing eyes". That was before I had the floaters to actually play with.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Vision-The Beginning
Wavey Blinds 5.5" x 5.5" watercolorIt Starts
"That's odd," I thought. Afternoon light brightened the white blinds and spilled onto my drafting table in my bedroom. I looked across the room as I dressed to go to a meeting at my grandson's school. The blinds seemed to be curving at one end.
I had been told a few years ago that I had the beginning of cataracts, but it was too soon to do anything about them. The doctor told me to just blink until it cleared up. I blinked, but the curve remained until I moved closer. I thought that, perhaps, the cataracts might be a bit worse, or, maybe, I might needed some new glasses. I had a perscription for glasses, but the doctor told me that reading glasses would work just as well. So, I kept using my old reading glasses.
But, this weird vision was a bit unsettling. It wasn't everywhere, and it wasn't blurry. Just that one end of the blinds, in that one window, curved. I dressed, went on to the meeting and I didn't see the distortion anymore. I imagined that it was just some quirky little thing. Maybe it was from staying up all night for too many nights, and my eyes were just tired. Probably nothing since it didn't continue.
As I tried to paint this, I realized that I was having some trouble making some lines connect.
My original purpose in starting a blog was to share some of my recent vision experiences with others. I did some searches online and didn't see anything like what has been happening to me. In frustration with what was going on, I turned to painting my experiences, and hoped that maybe someone else can relate, or benefit from my "adventures".
As I investigated starting a blog, several people encouraged me to put my art work and little stories in a blog. Others seem to enjoy the stories and my art work, so I wanted to share those as well.
Now that holidays and the Calvert High reunion have passed, I thought I would start sharing my Vision paintings and experiences. Some of you may find some of my paintings to be a bit disturbing. Art isn't always pretty, happy, and fun, just as occurs in life. However, this series is a record of what has happened to me. History, perhaps. It is also something that might happen to anyone. I had never heard of it, myself, so I had to learn quite a bit. I was told by one doctor's office, that about 75% of their patients are being treated for AMD, and the number is growing as the population ages. I've encountered quite a few people who have AMD, once I let people know that I have it. Otherwise, people don't seem to mention it. Maybe it is something that people need to be a bit more open about. That way, it wouldn't be such a shock when it hits.
This painting was done with Winsor Newton watercolors on 140 pound Arches watercolor paper. This is a detail, 1/4 of a composite painting, that can be divided. In the full size painting, 9" x 12", I have shown four different stages of changes that I recognized in my vision. There are more paintings
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And take a look at the new links I have added. I made a change as I separated Artists and Authors, and Interesting Sites. I moved the subscription box to the top, but part of it still is hiding under the border. It does work, though.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
The Gully
The Gully
8.5" x 11 "
Pencil
That looks dangerous
It started as a tiny little forked line in the soil of the field. As it moved to a slight downhill slope toward the Brazos, the line deepened until it was about the depth of a finger, then to the ankle, to the calf, to the knee, and, soon, as the line was followed, it was deep enough to jump into. The wash grew increasingly deep from shoulder depth to above the head.
As little girls, we were soon climbing over outcroppings of orange and brown hardened earth, shaped by water rushing to the Brazos River through the ages.
Kathryn often invited friends and classmates out to her family's farm in Milam county, across the Brazos River from Calvert, where we went to school, and most of us lived. There were all kinds of things to do on the farm, from playing games, looking at the animals, and riding her horse. And, of course, there was the gully to explore. There might be a couple of guests or a whole group, along with our guide who must have spent a lot of time learning all about that gully as it changed.
For posterity, we carved our initials into the sides of the gully. I've shown those in my drawing. I wonder if they are still there, or have they been washed away by rain and the gully filling during times of flooding.
As usual, I was afraid, but didn't dare to show it. But I know from my hesitation to do some things, the girls all knew that I was a big sissy. I was afraid that they might just leave me out there, lost. That we might encounter a snake or a spider, or who knows what might have been out there. Something from one of the horror movies that were becoming popular or from one of the outer space movies. Maybe an escaped Prisoner of War from the POW Camp at Hearne.
But, usually, her father wasn't too far away, in case we needed him. Sure enough, there was the time that someone sprained an ankle and we couldn't finish our tour. Her father came quickly and carried the wounded explorer to the house. And, another time, when we reached the end of the gully, and the River, where large rocks spilled across the water to a large sandbar, the girls all crossed the rocks, leaving me in the gully. We planned to spend the afternoon sunbathing and just talking on the sandbar. But, when I saw the slippery rocks, with water swirling around them, I thought of all the warnings I had heard all my life, about that dangerous river. How people were often pulled under water by whirlpools, and how there was unseen quicksand that would also suck a person under. I feared that I would slip on a rock and fall into a whirlpool or quicksand. So, Kathryn got her father, who guided me across, then came back to bring me back when we were through sunbathing. I don't think the water was very deep beside the rocks, but I was sure it was treacherous. Eventually, I made it across without her father's help.
I didn't add all the girls in my drawing who went to the gully at various times since that would be too crowded. But, I did show Kathryn, with her coiled braids, urging us to come on up and over the blocked place; Missie and Pat, on the left; Sandra and Shirley who are climbing down after carving their initials on the right; and me, fearing to climb. I added a couple of other girls' initials, who I know had also visited the gully. Kathryn's sister, Joyce, and my sister, Barbara, are not in the picture. Joyce was older and I don't recall that she hung out with us, but I feel sure that she might have visited that gully at some time as she grew up. Of course, we are all dressed in girls' jeans, rolled up at the bottom, and short sleeved shirts. My braids and ribbons have come down, ribbons hanging. We wore oxfords or penny loafers and socks, rolled over. Later, the socks had to be rolled over 3 times. Tennis shoes were not in style for anything except sports that required them. Sometimes, if it was muddy, we would wear cowboy boots on our adventures.
To me, the gully was like a smaller Grand Canyon. Constantly changing, and very deep.
My sister, a visiting cousin, his wife, my aunt, and I rode out to the Brazos River last Thursday, and rode through the Bottom from Bryan to Hearne. Something the whole family used to do a lot. We have seen the tv news pictures of the flooding along the Brazos and other rivers. The Brazos was flowing swiftly with brown, racing water in our area, up to the bank, but not overflowing. Since the dam at Waco was built, we haven't seen major flooding from the River. Before the dam was built, however, I remember driving out just a little way from Hearne and Calvert, and seeing the river out of its banks, as far as I could see. Houses and fields were underwater or floating away. This happened regularly, before the dam was built. I worried that the rivers would come into town, but that didn't happen. In recent times, there were other floods, but not from the Brazos.
When my great-aunt was married, the Brazos and the Little Brazos Rivers met. I can always remember the year of her wedding as that is the year of the big flood-1913. Because of the flood, it took the preacher, who was the groom's brother, three days to get back home after the wedding.
I wonder how deep that gully is now, especially after all this rain. I do know that we are all too elderly to be climbing in a gully, these days.
"The Gully" was drawn on cardstock using a #314 Sanford Draughting Pencil.
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Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Patriotism
Morning 8.5" x 11"
pencil
Raise the flag,
sound the trumpets,
pledge our allegiance
to God and country.
Each morning, Calvert High School faculty and students, proudly gathered around the flag pole in front of the three story brick building, to stand at attention, watching the flag being carefully raised. The Pledge of Allegiance was said, the National Anthem was sung, sometimes a prayer was given, or special words from the superintendent or principal. Freddie Bob and Judy brought their trumpets in times when music was called for. Lessons were given on respect for the flag and flag ettiquette.
The morning sun behind the school, left long shadows across the little hill where the school is located. Morning dew still glistened and mourning doves in the nearby park could be heard cooing during moments of silence. A farmer's cornfield and tank formed a background to the north. His cozy little home was just on the other side of the road from the new gym.
There were more students and teachers than I have shown in my drawing, although we did have a fairly small school. Still, we had a quality education, that included the teaching of values, social skills, faith, and patriotism. We usually stood in a circle around the flagpole, but I thought that would make the picture too crowded. I indicated the older student body with shadows, younger ones with a pair of female teachers.
So many lady teachers then seemed to be older, had gray or white hair, dressed in "old lady clothes", dark with lace or a sweetheart neckline. There were strict rules for dress and conduct, especially for women teachers. A group of athletes, ag students are on the opposite side of the flagpole since the gym, ag building, and sports facilities were outside the main building. Male teachers and administrators are represented by the two men on the left. The younger students beside the women teachers represent elementary students (from the basement or first floor), middle school students (from the second floor). High school students were from the third floor.
I used a combination of hair and clothing styles from the times, with puffed sleeves, pleated plaid skirts, rolled over socks, penny loafers, curls, shirts and slacks, or overalls, for the boys.
Freddie Bob and Judy are in their trumpet playing poses.
During our time as students there, we were present as the community planted trees and placed marble markers in rememberance of former students who died in the war. A large marble drinking fountain was installed in front of the school and dedicated to veterans. A plaque inside the school was dedicated to those who served. Flags were prominent at every program and in every part of the school. We gathered in study halls to listen to historic speeches on the radio. And, there was the occasional movie shown in the auditorium-not for entertainment, but for stories about the war, or literature.
We should have kept all the patriotic things we did in school. Our pride in our country, and our God, is part of our strength. Gathering around the flag pole , declaring our allegiance to our country, every day seems like a good thing.







