I love the mysterious actions of watercolor on paper – especially on wet paper. At some point you just have to trust that what you painted will come out just fine.
Here’s a fun watercolor. I painted it from a card. The fun of painting is that it has a relationship to the card, but it is most definitely not the card.
Marilynne
I didn’t really know how to title this. Roy and I had a great visit with our daughter Lisa and her friends Scott and Emily. Venice Beach is a place like no other. Kooky for sure. Beachy for sure. Why don’t I tell you in pictures?
I have a whole collection of characters that belong to me.
Scott, Lisa, Roy, Me
There were plenty of characters on the beach. I’ll add their pictures below.
A contortionist. I'd hate to be in that position for long, wouldn't you?
The contortionist was kind of bored and just sitting there. It was pretty warm and she was facing the sun.
Not sure who he's supposed to be, but it isn't Halloween is it?
The man on skates was entertaining. He had a smile for everyone and was willing to stop skating and just be kooky for his audience.
Wouldn't you like to look like that after a baby? But shopping?
Two ladies shopping: I wouldn’t be caught dead dressing like that to go shopping, but this is the beach after all. I admit to wondering how she gave birth to that sweet baby and kept her figure.
The man in the foreground wanted to dance out there to the music.
Stunts with hoops and bicycles. We watched the athletes swirl and do tricks inside the hoops for a long time. Someone had brought a boom box and the man with the bicycle just danced around them.
True character - patience getting it on just right.
Father and son. I took this photo because the father was showing great patience trying to get the bracelet onto his son’s arm. Most men would have thrown it down and stomped on it in frustration. It was taking a long time.
I hope you enjoyed the photos. I certainly enjoyed being at Venice Beach and visiting with our daughter and her friends while we took in this unusual beach scene. Turn around from the stores and there’s the beach. Here’s one last photo to calm your eyes.
Our daughter, me and my husband. Photographer: Emily Siskin
Marilynne
I’ve been visiting the doctor for a fair amount of maintenance lately (if you’re over 50 you’ll know what I mean) and I’ve run across a problem. Picture the doctor’s examining room. It’s dominated by a “table” not big enough to feed a child and you’re meant to sit on it so the doctor can talk to you eye-to-eye about your problem. If you’re very good, maybe you get to sit in a chair for a few minutes, but usually the doctor or nurse says something like “Hop up there and let’s have a look at you.” I’m a fairly large woman. Surely he can sense my presence in the room, but apparently I must do this in order to have his complete attention.
This table is padded and covered with some indestructible, apparently disinfect-able substance, but over this they put the flimsiest of paper covers. These covers are narrow and slippery. When you are told to “Hop up there” you are apparently supposed to launch yourself from the side of the table using the tiny step provided and while doing so, readjust your position so that your butt lands on the paper.
So, the step is a size that a grade school child could put her foot on sideways. I am expected to put my foot on the step (only one, there’s not room for two feet), balance on the ball of my foot, swing my body around so it will land on the “table” and land with as much grace as possible without moving or tearing the paper cover.
As I mentioned, I am a woman of a grand size. I cannot stand on that step because parts of my body would push me right off. So, it’s going to be a light hop, disco swing (did I mention I’m 70?), and sit carefully and gracefully.
No can do, but I did notice at the doctor’s yesterday that I was able to manage the maneuver. I grinned, but he didn’t notice. Must have been I lost those five pounds in exactly the right place.
Marilynne
One big answer to my using up my time. My brother would call it wasting time because he’s always about choices. He says if I spend my time doing something, it’s my choice. If I don’t like it, then I should change it.
He’s probably right about one thing. I spend way too much time at the keyboard: blogging, email, news, Dorothy-L (a list about books), my own writing (I should spend more time here). So how does one change without missing the things one leaves out?
My write (read right) thumb is beginning to give me trouble. It’s a kind of carpal tunnel, but it’s my thumb. That tells me I have to be choosier about how I use it. How do I decide what is the trouble maker?
Or should I just let the doctor do his thing and maybe it’ll be better? At this time, it’s hard to tell what to do. My whole life has been around writing. I’m learning to work in watercolor. I need to do Curves (exercise) for my health. Reading is like living for me. I love to sew and always have a little something in progress in the sewing box.
I guess that means I have to quit doing dishes. It’s the only thing I’m willing to give up.
Marilynne (who is grinning as I type)
