Below and Beyond the Front Range

The first time I saw the Colorado Rocky Mountains my eyes filled with tears of amazement and joy. There are no words to adequately describe their looming majesty and grandness.

I started this painting a few months ago, lost my muse off and on for a while, and finally knew what I wanted to do with the paints to dress it up a bit. This painting is a mixed media painting using watercolor paints and soluble oil paints. I wanted to try to infuse some texture which I felt would enhance the actual watercolors. One of the photos I’m posting here is a close-up view so the texture is more easily visable.

I hope you all enjoy my latest painting.

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Ghosts of Thanksgivings Past

Memories

Sometimes the most precious things in life are also the hardest. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was part of a large family sitting around the Thanksgiving table at my maternal grandparents’ house? But it wasn’t yesterday. It was over 62 years ago. My mom passed shortly after that and throughout the years I have lost almost everyone who was at that table.

Today as I sit here pondering, remembering, and cherishing all those I have lost, I am so grateful God put those amazing people in my life and gave me the time, no matter how short it may have seemed, to be with those people, to be loved by them, and to love them in return.

No matter who I have loved and lost throughout the years, today and every day, I am thankful for what was, what is, and what may still come. Loss is a part of life. Living with hope in your heart is God’s gift to us.

Wishing you all a happy and peaceful Thanksgiving.

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Watercolor, 2015, Jeannie Handlang Keller

What Is This Thing Called Love?

What better day is there to speak of love than on Valentine’s Day? Right? So here we go!

Love. It can lift you up to the highest heights and then toss you down like a ragdoll to the rocks below. But it is worth it. If you are fortunate to have found it at least once in your life then you know what I mean. Of course, if you are the one being smashed upon the rocks then it is not so much fun at the time. But life goes on and so does love.

I have experienced true love only twice in my lifetime. The first time was in high school and, as most of us know, high school romances have a tendency to hit the rocks long before graduation. The second time lasted over thirty years, is still in my heart, and we would still be together were it not for his passing. That does not mean life was perfect. I mean it never is if we are honest. There are ups and downs to love and life but if you stay the course then I believe you have true love.

Here is the most potent definition of everlasting love I have ever read:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.Love never fails….

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Happy Valentine’s Day

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Watercolor, 2015, Jeannie Handlang

A Pre-Thanksgiving Dressing or Possibly Undressing Recipe

(The Undressing is for those who do not like Thanksgiving Dressing)

Each year a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, I get my trusty 50-something-year-old cookbook out and pull out my Thanksgiving menus and recipes.

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I have several different dressing recipes and the decision-making process is critical in deciding which one to use each year. In other words, I look through them and ask family members which one they would like me to make this year. I wait patiently for them all to say “Oh whatever you want to fix this year is fine with me” and then I pretty much just pick one.

This is the original one I first started using out of the cookbook shown above. I probably followed this recipe to the letter the first few times and then began making my own additions and changes. That goes for most recipes you will see on here. Some of these have notes to the side, others are just handwritten, or printed, copies that I keep within my cookbook.

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Also although it says “stuffing” I do not stuff the turkey. I figure he already had his chance to stuff himself. I bake the dressing in a casserole dish.

If time is of the essence and you prefer to do a quicker method for your dressing, I have made the following recipe several times using the bags of dried dressing mix from the store. I never follow the directions on the bag exactly. It is a dressing after all so it needs to be dressed up a bit.

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And here is another variation I came up with for a quick version but I added a package of sage sausage. Of course, cook and drain the sausage if you decide to try this.

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I actually have more variations, such as cornbread dressing, but I suppose I will stop with these.

I miss the days of cooking the whole Thanksgiving meal. The planning. The extreme gratefulness when everything turned out as I had hoped and nothing was overcooked or undercooked. And not having to call the fire department. That is a big one. Just kidding. I have never had to do that…yet. And then, after cleaning up the kitchen and storing all the food, the sheer joy of getting to sit down and put up my feet and relax knowing I poured all my love for my family into that meal.

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Weeping Willow, Oh Weep for Me

Several months ago while looking through a book I have on the great Impressionist artist Claude Monet, I turned the page and there was one of his beautiful willow tree paintings. The willow tree has always been one of my favorite trees for several reasons.

The tree itself is such a beautiful example of sweeping grace always bending and swaying with the wind, weathering all seasons with grace and dignity. I suppose in a way people are like a willow tree bending and swaying and rising up again no matter what life throws at us in any season whether it be in the spring of our youth or in the winter of our days.

The willow tree also always reminds of the song Willow Weep for Me. We performed it in A Capella Choir in high school and I always thought it was a haunting tune. It has been recorded many times by various jazz and blues artists; so if you have not heard it I recommend giving it a listen. Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, and Lou Rawls are some of the choices.

Another reason, and surely the best, I have such a love for the willow tree is from my childhood. Almost every summer we would travel to Arkansas to visit my Aunt and Uncle. They had this enormous willow tree in their front yard and it was so much fun playing under the low branches. It was one of the best hiding places – until everyone else figured it out.

And so, after all these reflections, I felt the urge to put paintbrush to paper and create my own vision of the lovely willow. I hope you have enjoyed my latest stepping stone journey.

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Weep Oh Willow

Turn, Turn, Turn

Ecclesiastes 3 King James Version (KJV)

Verses 1-8

1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

3  A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

4  A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

5  A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6  A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

7  A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8  A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

 

This past year has been the hardest year of my life…so far. I have to try to inject a little humor because that is just who I am. It is part of my nature. If I did not have this sort of personality trait along with God’s love, I don’t believe I would have made it through any of my life without sinking into some dark place never to return.

A year ago today I lost my husband; my son lost his father. The scripture above is one we chose to be read at the funeral; and also there a song with these same words which was part of the music that day. I believe there is more said about living and loving in those few words than anyone else could ever say.

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Turn

I didn’t think I was going to be able to write anything about this for a long time, if ever. I’ve spent the last few days crying and reflecting, reliving our last few days in the hospital with family gathered around. I keep trying to put it out of my mind but it is always there in the shadows just waiting for a song or a spoken word to bring the memories to the surface. I know I will be like this for the rest of this day. Dwelling in the sadness because I miss him so; yet realizing that this world could no longer be his home. He is home now with God.

Tomorrow will be a better day. The sadness will always be there but I will pick myself up, my son will pick himself up, and we, with the help of God and our family and friends, will live and love and do the best that we can because that is what we are meant to do. That is what God wants us to do.

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Partridge, No Tree

I have not been able to blog or paint much in the last few years. I sincerely lost interest in it. My husband came first and taking care of him was my top priority. And quite frankly, I could not find the inspiration within myself that I need to write and paint. I’m hoping to do more of both this coming year. In the meantime and am posting a couple of watercolors that I have been working on when I feel God sending the inspiration back to me.

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Nuthatch

The singing group The Byrds did a wonderful rendition of the Bible verses quoted at the beginning of this blog. The song is called Turn Turn Turn. If you have never heard it before, or recently, I highly recommend it.

Best wishes to all and special love and thanks to my family for all you have done and continue to do for me.

 

Sweet Bird of Youth

Many of my favorite memories during the ancient times, my childhood, involved trips to my Grandma’s farm near Fredericktown, Missouri. It was just a small place on the outskirts of town but I loved it. There was always something to do or to look at. Horses, cows, chickens, and my very favorite peacocks! This started my lifelong fascination with these glorious birds of a different feather.

Each year when the male peafowl would molt, my Grandma would collect and save the feathers. She made me a beautiful display of these feathers in a vase which I have safely stored for the time being away from Smokey and Bandit. Need you ask why?

I started on this painting several months ago and just finished it today. It is mixed media, watercolor and acrylic, 12×16. This painting is a bit more abstract than I normally do. I believe my next one will be more impressionistic, like me.

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Hey! Get your head out of that box!

Recently a conversation developed among some art friends regarding the Abstract form of art. Now I have to admit that, in the past, I have not been much of a fan of abstract art. However, that was before I really was introduced to the Abstract style in art history class. Since then, I have realized the importance of all the different styles of expression in our everyday lives.

Toucan Sam, Watercolor Mixed Media

Toucan Sam, Watercolor Mixed Media

Contrary to what some people might believe, artists did not invent Abstract just to see how funny it would be to watch observers standing on their heads or backing slowing away or just gazing blankly at their creation while trying to analyze, rearrange, or develop some concept of what the artist wanted to convey through his work.

Just Percolating,  Acrylic and Watercolor

Just Percolating, Acrylic and Watercolor

Imagination is such a grand thing. We teach our children from the youngest age to use their imagination starting in the simplest form and then progressing into our school systems. What is imagination? It is literally thinking outside the box. Whether it is through writing, invention, or art, through dreaming, analyzing, or calculating, the avenues are endless.

 

Acoustic Dream, Watercolor

Acoustic Dream, Watercolor

So thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy viewing a few of my abstract watercolors and mixed media paintings. And hey! Get your head out of that box!

Flamingo Folly, Watercolor

Flamingo Folly, Watercolor

Trail of Memories

Sometimes the simplest action can bring forth a wonderful surge of memories. This morning my simple action was pushing back the cuticle on one of my fingernails. And then came the flood. From the time I was a little girl until I was in my teens, my Grandma Marie would do my nails for me every time I went to visit her. Although I never realized it when I was small, as the years passed I came to know that this simple ritual was a unique bonding experience between us. The exchange of the touching of hands was just as comforting as a hug for both of us and the light, conversational banter brought us closer together spiritually.

Grandma taught me how to do my own nails by watching her and by giving me little clues as to how to  use the tools to shape my nails. When she was finished, she would apply clear fingernail polish and I absolutely loved the end result, a pretty, natural look. Throughout the years there have been times when I’ve used colored polish on my nails. But I’ve always gone back to the simple natural look inspired by my Grandma. Less is more.

 

Cockscomb Flower

Cockscomb Flower

And, speaking of the simple, natural look, another lasting memory from my Grandma is the special flower she always had in one or more of her flowerbeds. This flower is called a cockscomb and the reason is self-evident. As you can tell, it really does resemble the brilliant, rough comb from the head of a rooster. Of course, if you have never experienced a close encounter with a rooster, you may not be able to relate to the resemblance. You may also count yourself lucky to have missed out on the cockscomb closeup. Okay, back to the flower. I haven’t seen too many of these flowers in my lifetime and believe they are mostly found in country areas now. It’s rather sad that a lot of these older flowers are slipping away into obscurity. I felt my Grandma’s presence while I was sketching and then painting this watercolor, as if she was sitting right next to me. Perhaps she was. And who knows? Maybe this little watercolor will initiate a cockscomb flower comeback!

Thanks for following me on my little stepping stone journey today!