Dad: The Sequel

I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you that Dad is perfectly fine now. I got several calls and emails from friends and relatives who were concerned that he was dying. Who knew anyone was actually reading this blog? Anyway, as you can see from this scary close-up, he is back to his old antics, pretending to have a moustache and sideburns made out of cottonwood seeds, floating by as he reclined in his backyard chaise lounge. When I walked out and saw him, I said, "No wonder you have allergies, stuffing seeds and leaves up your nose and ears!"

I know he said he wasn't going to live to be 97 (he's 96). But now I think I may have mis-interpreted that - I think he meant he was going to live to be 107 instead.

Ticket to Paradise

I had an out-of-body experience the other day. I didn't exactly leave my body, but I seemed to leave my house. I was transported out of my neighborhood - out of the U.S! And I wasn't doing anything stronger than my first cup of homemade French Roast coffee.

I was sitting on my sofa, staring out the window, and here is a photo of my window. Not exactly a great view, is it? But I like it, I've been staring at it for the last 15 years. Just a bunch of old trees now blocking the view of my neighbors' homes and not much else to see unless a squirrel makes an appearance.

All of a sudden the view looked different. A mist was rising from behind the neighbor's house, the sun broke through after a morning rain, and I thought I had been transported to somewhere totally foreign. Somehow the view lost it's familiarity, and it looked totally strange and exotic to me. Magical. I knew it was my own neighborhood, but still, I felt like I was in a rain forest or some tropical faraway place. It wasn't that it LOOKED different to me, it WAS different. I sat there for ten minutes, knowing that I was enjoying something very strange and special.

Eventually the curtain fell, and I was staring at my neighbor's lawn again. I keep sitting on my sofa now, drinking endless cups of that French Roast coffee, waiting for this spontaneous vacation to happen again, but so far no luck. But it is nice to know that our minds have the ability to make such a drastic positive difference in how we view our situation/environment.

Trotting the Dog

I was feeling a bit blue this morning, just tired from the previous week, and not getting a good night sleep for weeks on end takes its toll. So I decided to take Suzi-Q for a walk. But that is not correct terminology. She never walks around the house (she trots) so why would she walk in the Great Outdoors? So we don't go for walks, we go for trots. Totally out of control trots. She's had 6 months of obedience training, will do anything you ask her, was awarded best doggie and used as a model for the class, etc. But take her outside, and all that training just evaporates.

Actually, I'm fine with that. When we go for our trots, it's great exercise, and she enjoys her explorations, which is what being outside is all about for us. We both come back tired and restored at the same time.

The AWE-SUM Award!

This lovely honor was awarded to me by my friend Donna of The Good, Bad, and Ugly, a blog that has inspired me and given me comfort as I travel down the rocky road of caretaking.

The award comes with the very tall order to list 7 things about myself that make me AWE-SUM. Hmmmmmm. I had to think about that for a few days, so here goes:

1. I'm the world's best keeper of secrets. I never ever tell, so I have a huge library of amazing personal stories! I think this is because I am a good listener.

2. I've been able to make a living (eeeeek out a living) as an artist for the last 20 years.

3. I'm resourceful. I'll figure it out.

4. I'm persistent. I don't stop until I figure it out.

5. I'm great with animals. I love them, they love me. I also have a slightly uncanny ability to re-connected stray dogs with their owners.

6. I can't sing, but I do it anyway. This probably belongs on an Annoying List, not an Awesome List.

7. Best for last, I once saved someone from choking to death.

I was working as a waitress in a noisy rowdy restaurant during my college days. It was a very dramatic scene - the customer stood up with a blue face, clawing at his neck. He was a very big man. Ok , he was a really, really fat man. I had seen a poster of the Heimlich maneuver posted on the back of the kitchen door, and even though I had not taken the time to study it, it must have seeped into my subconscious, because I immediately stepped behind him and proceeded to try and do it. But the man was so wide my fingers wouldn't link together, and nothing happened! Meanwhile, the entire restaurant became hushed. I could feel all eyes on me. I thought, "Why doesn't someone bigger than me step up to help?" No one did. So I tried pounding him on the back, which I now hear is NOT the thing to do. That didn't work either. So I went back to attempting the H. maneuver. Somewhere in the back of the restaurant, I heard someone say, "I think she's getting it!" and sure enough, out popped a piece of steak! I don't know who was more shook up, me or the customer!

The irony of this story is that I got fired the very next week for being too slow. I was never a good waitress. But I think it's better to save someone from choking on the food than to serve up it up quickly.


The Awe-Sum Award comes with the instructions to pass it along to 7 other bloggers, so here's my list:

Claudine Hellmuth

Anahata Katkin

jillustration

Gennine's Art Blog

Penelope Dullaghan

Julia Rothman

That's it for now. I'm not adding a seventh blog yet, because I just KNOW I've forgotten someone very important, and it will come to me soon.

July Cover

Detail


Detail


Detail

Here's how it all turned out. I added that distracting label area just to extract some sympathy from you the viewer - it's so annoying to have to plan an illustration around a label, but an illustrator's gotta do what an illustrator's gotta do!

The big challenge with this illustration was combining the copyright-free vintage images and maintaining consistency. Unfortunately, some of the images I found were cropped, which really made it difficult to arrange the composition, unless I chose to finish the images with my own drawing. This proved to be impossible to match since the original images were woodcuts and would require more skill and time than I possessed. So I tried to solve this dilemma with backgrounds on some of the figures. I left some of the figures "out of the box" because it made for a more interesting composition, but I'm afraid I sacrificed consistency in doing so.

Nevertheless, I think using vintage images was a good way to illustrate the difficult subject matter the physicians wrote about in their essays featured within the magazine, as well as evoking the essence of memories and the past.

July Cover - Thumbnails

Another cover for the Minnesota Medicine magazine, July issue - YAHOO! These are the 4 thumbnails that I submitted. The theme of the cover was to announce the winners and other entries of the annual writing contest. Once a year the magazine invites physicians to submit their essays reflecting their experiences in the field of medicine. This year's essays had such bleak (it seemed to me) subject matter: illness, death, abuse, violence, impact of war, difficult patients, aging, etc. But when you think about it, that's exactly what a physician deals with daily! Initially, I submitted thumbnails that were somewhat generic in outlook - just addressing the issue of a writing contest, or keeping the visuals to symbols or medical icons. That's the Pollyanna in me, I guess, the eternal optimist not wanting to face the dark side. But that was not what the editors wanted - they wanted specifics! And the thumbnail they chose was the most difficult for me to realize, the collage. (But I must say, my favorite of them). So I'll show you how I changed it around when I post the final tomorrow.

Another of Dad's Sketches

The people that Dad sketched while sitting in the food court at the mall rarely knew that they were being captured on paper. They continued to eat, chat, and move around continually. They were not a still subjects, but Dad managed to capture their likeness anyway, sometimes completing the drawing after they have gotten up and left their table!

Dad is feeling better today, but his week long illness has left him much weaker, and I'm hoping that he can regain his strength.

And frankly, I hope I can regain mine!

Dad's Sketches

I am always amazed at the way Dad can capture the essence of someone with just a few lines. I also like how he starts boldly with pen, scratches around with lines until he finds the right feel (checkout that crazy receding ear on the black and white sketch). It adds such a vibrant feel to the portrait, makes it more dynamic. Dad was complaining to one of his friends, Marty Harris, that he was so annoyed that he couldn't see well anymore. And Marty, who is one great illustrator, someone whose work I admired before he even discovered my dad at the mall, said to him, "Well, Leo, I think seeing is vastly overrated when it comes to drawing. Draw what you THINK you see. Draw what you feel." Which is exactly what Dad does. Check out Marty's amazing sketches on his Flickr site: Marty Harris

Dad

Dad in his "younger days", age 93


Dad, age 95, sketching portraits in the mall

Well, I'll bet you're wondering where I've been! Me too! Actually, I've been taking care of my dad, who lives with me. He's very old now, 96 to be exact, and has been ill for the last month. Since he has just announced that he has no plans to live to be 97, I thought I would introduce you to him before he departs this earth. Everybody, including me, loves my dad. He's an artist, so apparently I am following in his footsteps. His parents, farm people who immigrated from Lithuania, disapproved of their young son's desire to be an artist. So when he was in his early 30's, he channeled all his creative energies into designing and running a miniature golf course in Sioux City, Iowa. He built it on his parent's farmland, much to the amazement of the city. No one had heard of a mini-golf course, and everyone thought he had lost his mind. But that mini-golf course became so popular that it ended up being one of the major hot spots of the city, and Dad became a celebrity of sorts.

When he retired at 80, he began going to the local mall and sketching people while sitting in the food court. When Mom died 7 years later, I decided he should move to Minneapolis and live with me. That was 7 years ago. He's been amazing adaptable, independent and appreciative of all that surrounds him, and I am lucky to have such a great dad. His mind is sharp as a tack, but unfortunately, he has spinal stenosis which means he has great difficulty walking now, even with his walker. Up until just recently, he has been going to a nearby mall where he is a "regular" with buddies who hang out with him while he sketches in the food court. He says giving away his portraits to the sitters is a way to feel that he is contributing something, which he says is important for him at his age (at any age, I say!).

I think his portraits are amazing, considering he can barely see any more, and I'm going to show you a few of them in the next few days. Also, as you can see from these photos, he looks 20 years younger than his age!