When I Can't Say 'No' (Lucky 13)

Well, it's been a weird winter. A lot of snow, dark and isolation. I must have read 40 books, played a couple hundred records (vinyl is where it's still AT), and worked more hours than I'd planned for my retirement years. Few and far between did I make time for art projects, because I really have slowed down. But most times, I just can't say "no." I did finish 13 pieces for friends, family or friends of friends. This little compilation serves as an update of where I've been and where I am AT. (14, really. No. 515, "Boys," got its own writeup a few months ago.) The little fuzzball at the top is Wyatt, a new addition last year not only to my art, but especially to a local family. He's No. 520 and was a Christmas present. He's at the top because he's so freaking cute, and also because I'm really proud of the delicate pencil work on his face and the detail on the fuzzy coat. He looks squeezable.

These kitties, Oliver and Dusty, No. 519, also were a Christmas present that got finished just under the wire! This one involved some arranging between Columbus and Warren -- and then a Christmas Eve pickup. The drawing was created from two photos; the cats are not posing together -- they just look like they are! Good hair(s) here. Speaking of fuzzballs:

Peanut here (No. 510) lived next door and was a maniac. He would visit us and I'd pick him up and play with his ears. I don't know if he liked that, but he kept coming back. He was so cute-ugly-adorable. He had to watch out for the groundhog in his backyard.

Odie is No. 511 and, ironically, was Peanut's neighbor. It was a tough year for the neighborhood canines. Odie would hang out under and around the dining room table when the humans would gather. I don't think he could hear very well but he knew when the food was on the table.

Megi, No. 512, is the last neighborhood dog standing. She looks like a little bear and is very shy, but has a bad habit of chasing cars. She loves me and runs across the field to say hello. The field is next to the road ... She gets yelled at about that.

"Lula," No. 508, was a commissioned drawing of a beloved pet (former neighbors). She is among several pieces -- canine and human -- that I have done for these friends in Cortland. Look at that happy face!

We got lucky with "Ellie," No. 509, because the original photo was kind of fuzzy and I ALMOST said NO. But she turned out swell and everyone is happy, especially my cousin Pam.

A lot of creative license was taken for No. 521, "Edge," an English Pointer with a Field Champion title. His owner had a particular way that she wanted Edge's ears, so we went through some photos and sketches of DOG EARS until we settled on a suitable pair to attach (really). And there he is!

Sometimes it's not a matter of saying "yes" or no. It becomes a "must." This one, No. 513, is quite large. See the little moon icon by my signature? That's because the last name is Moon and it's the second time that I surprised their daughter with a gift. She made this the centerpiece to a gathering room filled with memories in the big ol' house Dad had pretty much built. Sometimes, people don't have to ask me.

We had a wedding here in October. No. 518, "Two Brides," features my youngest, Emily, and her wife Maggie. No. 517, "Two Peas" (as in a pod) shows off my first-born, Kara, and my grandson Anthony -- who was the wedding ring-bearer. These, too, were both gifted on Christmas Eve. They are based on photos that I took at the ceremony, and funnily enough these were done before the actual wedding photos arrived. I have drawn many pictures of Kara, Emily and Anthony over the years. Kara will tell you that this is the first time that I didn't make her "look Chinese." I also "removed" Anthony's braces for the drawing -- some two months before the orthodontist did! I think the hardest thing to figure out here was Maggie's tattoo. Emily is a professional tattoo artist and I just don't know how she gets those designs down.

Young Anthony, for some reason, wanted a picture of Ozzy Osbourne, who died last July. Anthony got this -- No. 514 -- for his 13th birthday. It was funny because after he asked me to do this, he and Kara came into my music room and we blasted the heck out of Volume 4 (The Only Black Sabbath Album You Must Hear Before You Die), and his mother took my Ozzy CD compilation. My work is done there. I really love Ozzy's eyes behind those tinted glasses. He stared at me for a month before I could gift him. It got creepy.

Speaking of STARING at me, this one, No. 516, has been looking at me since October. I don't know much about Kevin here, except that a family member arranged for this portrait. I think the beard hair looks pretty good. Kev, wherever you are, you had a bitchin' beard, bro.

No. 515: Boys

Boys kind of lope into manhood. It starts out slowly. Cleaning up a bedroom, putting away the toys. Cutting the grass and trimming shrubbery. Digging, planting, painting, washing. Driving, working, growing into their own relationships.

Turns out they grow if ya feed 'em, too.

And even if boys are already men, or well on their way, loss of a parent turns a lope into a jolt. My family knows this from personal experiences, past and now, present.

Kurt Swager, my cousin Pam's husband and life partner for some 30 years, died shortly after the formerly gopher-cheeked boy in the drawing, Kiefer, graduated this summer from Bristolville High School. It was a sudden thing, or perhaps it wasn't actually. No matter, still a jolt or more likely, a comet impact. Kiefer and his brother Kenny miss him -- I could tell when I dropped off this picture today.

I'm a lousy visitor and not the most conscientious cousin. Kurt was a good guy who ran an excavating business and kept busy in winter plowing out parking lots and driveways -- including mine, always after I'd make a panicked phone call. I got a wave and a hello out of him during a brief glimpse at the grad party and that was fine enough. Everybody was just so busy and he was laying low. Now I understand why.

Cousin Pam and I spent much more time together, along with my brother Gerry and her sister Julie, when we were kids. We did a lot of outdoor stuff that involved frogs, crayfish and other assorted messes that drove her mother and my dad crazy -- but amused the living shit out of my mom, Linda, and her brother Chick -- my uncle. Linda and Chick grew up around outdoor lovers, smokers, dogs and cats. It was great -- how great, we didn't know until adulthood.

Gerry and I were teenagers when our mom died, and that jolted us into growing up fast (although our father held things together pretty well and remarried quickly.) I was off to college and bro was finishing high school and visiting with the local police and emergency room. Everyone reacts to death -- processes it -- in their own way. We suffered with mom for six or seven years. The boys in the pictures had less prep time, and I don't know which is worse. It's all a comet blast.

Afterward, Pam seemed to have plenty of food, lots of flowers, well wishers and the like. What she wanted was a picture of her own selection, a favorite. I could do that, and other than a lot of tinkering with those former gopher cheeks, it went fine. It's a big drawing, in a formidable frame that fit like a glove. We are happy with the result at an unfortunate time.

The boys, now men, though not suddenly, are both at home. It's a century place with plenty of land that has been in the family for generations. More family live next door. And they are all still together in that beloved spot, with the sounds of birds and other critters in the fields out back, sun on that big white house full of favorite heirloom chairs -- and a giant rhododendron by the sitting room that I'm sure is gorgeous in the spring.

It was special hanging this picture together in that big old house that holds so much life. I really need to get out there more often. I love you, Pammy Jo.

The Last of the Orphans

Some of you might know, or have realized by now, that I have retired from the newspaper daily grind, and also have curtailed my art output. There's a horrendous overflow of spare art at home -- on walls, in closets and car trunks. Some few are also inside of other buildings and (mostly) in the homes of good friends and loyal customers. I have over the past year generated a few creations, mostly for friends and family although I kept a few for myself and sold one or two. So this post serves as a catch-all for the latest orphans -- the pieces that won't get their own writeup, yet still give me great pride. If you have one of my drawings or paintings, please cherish it. I do not think there will be many more, if any. A series of unfortunate circumstances -- numb hands, sore arms, tired eyes and other stresses -- led me to disassemble and pack away my remaining drawing table. This is painful on a lot of levels but it's a reality. Here are the last of the orphans, and thank you.

This one is called "Pencil," but No. 496 is Agnetha from ABBA.

This good boy is "Max," No. 486, the only one in color this time out.

Here's Dolly! No. 505 is the gorgeous Dolly Parton!

No. 484 is "Uschi," a gorgeous German Shepherd donated at a fundraiser.

No. 482, "Dust Off," is my grandson, Anthony.

Some of you may remember Catwoman. She is No. 497, called "Hello," and it's the lovely Julie Newmar.

Speaking of lovely, No. 499 is Keith Richards, and this is called "Rocks Off,' after the song.

The next four (503 and 504), the kids, are family gifts -- my brother's grandchildren. Aren't they a bunch?

Here's Taylor Swift, No. 500, from a photo my youngest daughter Emily snapped at a Pittsburgh concert. Ooh glossy.

My favorite beer is Miller High Life! Why not? This is No. 481, "Champagne." It's Marilu Henner.

480 is "Lexi," so very cute.

No. 502 is really TWO done simultaneously. It's Bill Leonard, separate portraits for both daughters. One is in Texas!

"Clint Squint," No. 495, is the second Clint Eastwood for the same person. Mishaps happen!

Chet Baker is No. 492. Known as a tragic trumpeter, his voice was also so very sweet. Check out Chet's music.

"Loki" is No. 493. Beautiful boy, am I right?

No. 498 is "Little Kid," also known as Sass. I have drawn many kitties.

"Thor and Mack," No. 490, are mischief personified. Dog-ified. Whatever. Fun boys.

No. 488 is the aptly-named "Wiley." All dogs go to heaven. We should be so lucky.

Here is No. 501, "Seamus." Another good, big boy.

The Camaro is "Hurdle," No. 494. Haven't drawn many cars since grade school!