Friday, May 31, 2013

50 cents an hour

It was - a night. Four hours on a Raphaello chalking, until it got too dark to work. I was near a lovely eatery with gracious staff- and oblivious patrons. It was hard to feel such a heavy wall of indifference, but I kept telling myself, every work I do gains me experience. Every work I do makes me better. And at the end of the day- it is work I can truly offer up to God.



Saturday, May 11, 2013

Mother's Day Tribute

Mary Cassatt, Mother and Child.
On a side note- how do I know I'm finished with a work? 1) Tingling extremities. 2) Dizziness or lightheadedness. 3) Shadow paws me. 4)The copy I'm working off of is so smooshed by gravel, and chalked on, that I can't tell it from the street piece. 5) My hair is so "volumized" from chalk debris, it stands up on its own accord.
Love you mom- your painting comes tomorrow!







Sunday, April 28, 2013

How did Christ survive the storm?

That downpour at the end of yesterday's Fiesta Flambeau parade was torrential.
The chalking of Christ carrying his cross is now a lovely, faint echo of its' former self.
The purple robe looks like a well designed oil slick. His eyes still gently look up to you. If you visit the Pearl today for a jog, a meal or mojito, could you see it?
I certainly can.
The two week old chalk painting of the Virgin is very much erased, but some blue from her mantle is still there- looking like a silly snake drawn by a toddler.
You won't catch me complaining about the rain though. My experience is that the best response to rain in Texas is, "thank you Lord, bless our farmers."

Sunday, April 14, 2013

San Antonio


This was my inspiration for my first sidewalk painting. Saint Anthony. The patron of our city, the finder of lost things, humble, true, great lover of the Word of God and preacher.


The work starts out, blocked out in colors. I first attempted a grid and wasted precious time on little squares. The work was roughly 5ft by 8 ft.
Some of the most fun is had by sharing large pieces of chalk with the children in the farmer's market. One child drew an outline of her father's body, as in a crime scene. Another drew lovely flowers and a "sunscape."
One of the Farmer's Market volunteers gently teased me, saying that Saint Anthony looked just fine, but the Baby Jesus needed work. True that. 
If I had a heart as pure as St. Anthony's, it would be easy to "see" the Baby Jesus, and draw him. Unfortunately, those privileges belong to Saints.

I had to leave earlier than I wished. My faithful service dog Shadow, looked a little worn from the sun by noontime. My whole body hurt once I stopped, my back and knees protested and groaned.  I popped some ibuprofen, and noticed the asphalt had somehow ripped a sturdy pair of twill Lands' End capris. I found out later that the chalk pigment smashed into every layer of my clothing- making my "whitey tighties" a spectacular cloud of rainbows.