My parents' 35th(ish?) anniversary was in late June and so my sisters asked me to make a painting of their house to celebrate. I've been extra busy the past couple of months so it's taken me a second to get to it, but that only means it will be even more of a surprise when they receive it a month and a half after their anniversary (I'm looking at the bright side).

I don't typically share photos of my paintings in progress only because I work in layers and things change so much throughout the process. It's nerve-racking for me to show someone something that will look completely different in the end, BUT, I'm making an exception today.

Below is the photo I'm using. A winter time photo shows more of the house.



I drew it out last week and began painting it yesterday. At this point, it sort of looks like a 5 year old got their hands on it, but hopefully in the end, it will be nice and whimsical, happy, folksy and bright... or at least something they will enjoy.



As I make this painting, I have images in my head of two paintings my parents own of the Memphis homes I grew up in. They are by the same artist. Mine is the same size as those, but it won't share the same style. Hers are watercolor on paper and mine is acrylic on panel. Mine will end up looking a lot like this.

I'll post a photo once I'm done, for sure. In the meantime, if you speak with my parents, please don't mention this. And, parents, if you are reading this, I commend you for your savvy computer skills.

I think about cartoons a lot, my love for them as a kid, how I think about them now as an adult. I watched cartoons every Saturday morning growing up, but the ones I think about most often were on VHS tapes my mom would buy for my sisters and me. My parents still have the tapes, but they are in Memphis along with the only VHS player I know still exists.

My affinity for children's books and cartoons most likely stem from the fact that, back then, they offered much needed respite. They allowed me to take a break from days full of shy and awkward moments and helped my brain to rest. I would visually dissect each scene with my eyes, looking past what was going on in the foreground to all that was happening in the distance. I was just as intrigued by what illustrators decided to do with the space behind as I was in the space up close- Were there tiny houses in the background? Do the colors fade? Did they merely use a pattern as the backdrop?

If I had to explain why I make art, it would be tempting to lay a bunch of children's books out on a table and show cartoons for an hour. The way I viewed these things as a child reminds me of making work today. They each instill calm and focus and help me to become lost in contentment, because, for a glimmer of time, I quit thinking about how to be content.

Today I had a hankering to see the Bread and Butter Panthers from my past, and I found them. I watched this particular Merry Melodies Cartoon, A Day at the Zoo, over and over again as a kid. It's great to see it again.

I adore their little hands in the second frame; I cherish them.

I've come across some pretty amazing things while researching architectural salvage online. Here's a little treat I've never seen before:

A Tub Sofa



I can't say that I'd ever want one of these, but I'm a strong advocate for creative re-use, and this is a fine example.

On a different but similar note, anyone in the market for a 30.5" x 60" antique cast iron tub?

Email beth@knoxheritage if you are.

Today, I'm featuring a painting I made about my favorite M. Ward song because I just found out I'm going to see him for the first time in September at the Bijou. I'm very excited.
















Long Distance Phone
2011
acrylic and latex on salvaged wood, framed
approximately 6"x12"
$55 {you may purchase this painting here*}

I wanted the painting to have a similar feel to the song- folksy, nostalgic, simple.

*a portion of the proceeds from this painting goes to Knox Heritage

I made this painting just after The Poltroon Hard at Work. I wanted to express the idea of being consumed with thoughts of someone else. In this case, the girl sitting on the sofa is being haunted by thoughts of the girl on the ceiling. It's called Living Ghost to convey that she is not being haunted by a spirit but rather someone still alive. This implies a rift between the two girls, the possibility that renewal is there, but the presence of difficult circumstances, rendering the situation hopeless.






















Living Ghost
acrylic on canvas
2011
about 4'x 3'

Most people know this experience, especially when romantic love is lost. It can be agonizing learning how to let go of a relationship over time.

The same agony can happen over a broken friendship, and may even be worse because of how unexpected it can be to lose someone you never thought you could "break up" with.

The painting expresses the idea of this more than the feeling.

The magazine in the table is this:


















Judith Eisler made the painting on the cover. She was my drawing teacher one semester of art school.

And the Corgi is, well, I want a Corgi.






















The space reflects the type of place I'd like to inhabit one day.

Questions or comments about this painting are welcome, either via the comment section below or by emailing beth@bethmeadows.com.

I've discovered the beauty of full spectrum light bulbs. How I didn't know about them in my first 26 years is beyond me, but now I can actually see what I'm working on in my studio, at long last.




















My only complaint is that they are ridiculously hot. This wouldn't be that big of a deal if I had a/c in my studio, but I do not.

I'm thinking I could strip down and start treating this place like a sauna, maybe pushing me toward my art-nasium* idea.

But seeing that I don't have heat either, these little puppies are going to do me right come wintertime. Is that almost here?

*more on this later, most likely