Archive for December, 2018

The length and the breadth and the sweep …

Saturday, December 15th, 2018

Totally aside from the primary destinations of our travels, I enjoy seeing the unfamiliar countryside we pass between our stops.  Whether driving through open farmland, mountain ranges, forests, winding roads along tumbling rivers, or views entirely different, while my traveling companions may read or nap, I try to keep my eyes open to appreciate “the length and the breadth and the sweep” of the changing views.

I had been intrigued by the irregularity of the coastline, the network of meandering waterways, and the grasslands that separated them when we had flown over the Georgia coast last year.  In November this year, my husband and I had the opportunity to take a coach excursion through some of that area, particularly those low-lying tidal plains south of Savannah.

"Marshes of Glynn" by Charlotte Mertz  (9"x12" oil, #181103-o)

“Marshes of Glynn” by Charlotte Mertz
(9″x12″ oil, #181103-o)

The sky was overcast, and a persistent drizzle flecked the bus windows, but I found the lovely gray arch of the distant Lanier Bridge (named for the Sidney Lanier, author of the poem,“The Marshes of Glynn,” which lyrically depicted the wetlands) just as appealing as the autumnal colors in the marsh itself.

Although I could not disembark at the time to paint the scenery, and photos shot from the bus window were blurred with rain, I was later able to undertake a studio painting to depict my impression of the scene as we passed.

Sometimes paint can be a better recorder of memories than a camera.  It may not be as literally accurate, but it can be much more evocative of mood than a quickly snatched snapshot. And, when painted from memory or even poorly executed artist-created reference images, the painting process itself transports the artist back to the pleasures of the original experience.

 

Keeping things in perspective

Saturday, December 1st, 2018

I celebrated my 70th birthday last week.  Shocking, right?

When I was a child, 70 seemed ancient–one foot in the grave.  But now I don’t feel that way at all!  It’s all a matter of perspective, how we see ourselves.  So I decided it was a good time to do a “Selfie at Seventy,” taking a realistic look at where I am now.

"Selfie at Seventy" by Charlotte Mertz (10"x8" oil, #181104-o)

“Selfie at Seventy” by Charlotte Mertz (10″x8″ oil, #181104-o)

It’s true that after something like 20 years of “enhancing” my hair color, I’ve finally allowed it to go natural, … only to discover that it’s a very distinguished looking color all on its own, with a lovely white streak over my right eye.  We can be so concerned with what we’re “losing” that we miss the beauties that are happening now.

Birthday cards might razz me about presumed age-related issues, … but they seem irrelevant when I feel much younger than my chronological age would suggest.  It’s true that I prefer not to jog, as I once did; but orthotic inserts in my shoes still allow me to walk quickly and comfortably.  I can’t see as well as I once could; but trifocals can do wonders to clarify my vision.  My memory might not be as sharp as it once was; but there’s a whole lot more stored in it now than there used to be.

I look at my mother, still living largely independently at almost 98 (though she doesn’t cook for herself anymore), staying in touch with distant family by letters and email, and I realize that, rather than figuratively throwing in the towel at a mere 70, I could very well still have a good 30 productive years or more ahead of me, too!  As much as I learned and experienced and accomplished in any of my preceding 30 years, just as much could still lie ahead.  How exciting!  How challenging!  How much there is to still be accomplished if I don’t give up on myself yet.

I’m not old.  Goodness!  I’m just getting started!  I think I’ll take a class.  How about you?