Posts in "cute"
About the Painting: It Don't Come Easy


I made It Don't Come Easy last fall for my show at the Birdhouse in November 2011.

I put a lot of things I had been thinking about in this piece. It references my business endeavors that fall under the moniker With Bear Hands, the 100 (well, 99) mason jar paintings I made last year, and also the inclinations I was having at the time to start making abstract paintings.

I wanted to make a painting about the things I've been working toward, the things I've wanted for so long, all the hours spent in my studio and devoted to art, where I want to go from here. I wanted to talk about how chasing a dream (that you can't even see) can feel terribly unnatural, like domesticating a wild animal. And even when things seem to be shaping up around you, how you still might feel the inclination to run off into the wilderness- naked, with no possessions- and never come back.

But making this painting was really enjoyable, and that's the curious thing about art (or maybe any dream). It can feel like it's going to kill you, and at the same time, the act of doing it can ease all amount of frustration.

***

It Don't Come Easy
acrylic on canvas
2011
36" x 30"
$1500

8 x 10 prints of this painting are for sale here.
Llama prints available
The acrylic painting Llama that I made for an opening in November 2011 is now available in print form.



I have 8 x 10"'s (click here) and 5 x 7"'s (click here) available on Etsy. If you're interested in a larger size, you may email me at beth@bethmeadows.com.

The prints are of exceptional quality, printed on archival cotton rag paper with light-fast inks, meaning they won't fade over time. They are also signed on the back and fit in standard-size frames.
About the Painting: Llama
I'm not sure if anyone has gathered this, but I really like animals. I like them so much that when I was finishing up college, I got a job working at a vet clinic, just to see what it was like*.


Llama
acrylic on canvas
2011
Sold (I will have prints of this soon)

The clinic was about a 20 to 30 minute drive from where I lived in downtown Knoxville, and most of the time, I was the only employee there with my boss. I'd spend my hour long lunch breaks alone and also the afternoons, when she'd leave for a few hours.

As I've mentioned before, I was really down back then but was too confused, prideful, (something), to do anything about it. I bring this up because, even though my job was really great, it wasn't good for me to be alone so much.

On my hour lunch break, I did various things alone in the area, trying to distract myself from thinking too much.

One activity I enjoyed was taking walks at Victor Ashe Park. It's not an aesthetically pleasing park and best serves soccer players and disc golfers, but there's a path that runs through it to the far end where it crosses a small road, passes over a creek via a bridge, and winds with the creek through woods and large backyards.

So I'm walking there for the first time, woods on either side, listening to the water rush over root and rock. And I'm looking at the back of these people's houses and their large yards wondering if I'm really supposed to be back there, but there are other people on the path as well.

I look up, and there he is: A dirty white llama standing in the creek, looking straight at me.

He was beautiful. He was magic.

He had a friend lying in the grass behind him, and I stood for a while there, watching and falling in love. And for a brief moment, the dark cloud above my head dispersed.

***

When I'm feeling down, one of my safety nets is seeing something/someone doing what it/they do best, even if it's not particulary exciting.

Besides being cuddly and soft, I think this is part of the reason why I love animals. They are so good at being what they are.

That day I saw the llama, he was perfectly fulfilling his role as a llama, and it made me really grateful.

***

About the painting:

In the beginning stages, I painted a llama from Machu Picchu, with the mountains and ruins behind and below him. I wanted him to be magical and strong, so it seemed like a good idea to have him standing on a tall cliff.

I decided, however, that this idea took away from the fact that anyone could happen upon this llama, as I did. I also thought it was important to have the creek.

I painted the sky pink first, and then about 20 other colors. At the time I was painting it, my friend Josh was practicing for a double bass recital in the room next to my studio a lot. As the sky changed from light yellow to white to dark grey to black, he kept telling me to make it pink again. He knows as much about art as I do about the double bass (very little), and I can't say I wanted to trust him, but for some reason, I did.

I also made the llama white because I didn't want dirt to read as brown fur. I also wanted to make him a little more fantastical, because he is. Fantastic.

*If you like animals because they are soft and cuddly, I wouldn't necessarily recommend working at a vet clinic. For all the cuteness, there is just as much that's sad, terrible, tragic, painful. I learned a great deal there.
Shpoon Me


I don't like this because I spoon with Juicy. I love it because I spoon with Juicy, and I wish I could spoon with her til I'm old and gray. (sob)

By the way, I made a painting about spooning. I don't have an image on this computer, but you can see it here. It's called I Love You (Let's Spoon).

Fun fact: It is the ONLY painting I've sold during an art opening. I think it's because spooning is a universal love language. A lady bought it for her brother as a wedding gift.
Upcoming Shows
I now have an Upcoming Events page. You can reach it by clicking on the Upcoming Events  link right under the banner at the top of this page. Now you never have to wonder when and where my artwork will be displayed. (You can thank me later)

I'm thinking in a couple of months I may get around to making an About page, too, so that's something you can look forward to as well- right in time for Christmas!

Lastly, because I had a nightmare about Juicy being in danger last night, here are a few cute pictures of her, where she is not in danger.





Rooster complex
I love my cat Juicy, but she is a scoundrel.

Every morning, sometime between 4 and 7am, she begins meowing. It doesn't matter if she's in my bed or locked out of my room, she's up before the sun and wants me to be, too.

Feeding her shuts her up temporarily, but what she really wants is for me to start my day. So whether she's sitting outside of my door or next to my face, she meows every twenty minutes until I get up. I think she knows I need every hour of the day to accomplish what I want to accomplish.

"Get up!" I hear with every meow. "Live life! Work hard! Bring home the bacon! Literally!"

Once I finally put my feet on the floor for good, she follows me around, meowing for about twenty minutes. Then, THEN, she has the AUDACITY to jump on my bed and go straight to sleep. Each day, on my way out the door to work, I leave behind my slumbering jerk of a cat. 

If she wasn't so adorable, I'd send her to a farm where she could better fulfill her calling.