We often take travel for granted, but I remember a time when travel was celebrated. So much so that not only did we dress up to travel, but we dressed up to pick someone up from the airport, train station or bus terminal.
Entrepreneur – prints available on Fine Art America.
This original has been sold. Purchase prints at Fine Art America.
I got straight D’s in Home Ec, back in the days when girls were required to take cooking and sewing and boys were required to take shop class. Back in my school, girls could not take shop and boys could not take home ec even if they wanted to. The good old days weren’t all that good in that respect.
Anyway, back to the D’s. It wasn’t that I can’t cook (even though it’s not my favorite pasttime), its that I am a visual cook. I can see how much oregano to add to the spaghetti sauce by the color (even then I was the artist.) Besides, I could care less how many teaspoons go into a tablespoon because I have the whole set of measuring spoons. You can buy a set at the dollar store even today, so I imagine measuring spoons were only a few cents back in the day. Continue reading
That’s a painting of my husband and I. He has been retired for over 10 years. He joined the USAF in 1980. He volunteered a few years after they ended the draft.
Back when there was a draft, just about everyone in America knew a soldier.
With the all volunteer force, I am surprised at how many people have never met a soldier. I am even more surprised by the number of people who don’t realize that we are at war.
Back in the day, just about everyone I knew wore POW and MIA bracelets. They sold for a few dollars and were imprinted with the name of either a prisoner of war or a soldier who was missing in action. The idea was to keep your bracelet on until the soldier came home. Continue reading
This original has been sold. Prints available on Fine Art America.
How do you convince a child to willingly do a chore? It’s easy if the chore involves raking leaves. Continue reading
My parents were magicians when they drove into a service station back in the day.
Bells would ring to announce their arrival and a service station attendant dressed in a jumpsuit would appear to grant their every wish.
Their first magic command was “Fill ‘er up with unleaded.” Unleaded, being a code word for “we can afford a newer car and therefore have successfully kept up with the Jones.” Immediately our attendant (Ernie) would insert a nozzle into the gas tank and begin to clean the windshield. (My windshield only gets cleaned now if it rains.) Continue reading
It is shameful, but I am seeking help. Although I have a smart phone, I want to keep my land line until I die, here’s why:
- I’m blind as a bat: I have the biggest, brightest smart phone screen that was available 3 years ago when I bought it, but I still have to hold it at arms length in order to see anything. That makes it really hard to dial.
My land line has lighted buttons.
- I’m losing my memory: Not on the smart phone, but I can never remember to take it with me. If I do remember, then I put it down somewhere and can’t remember where I put it. Then I have to use my land line to dial my cell so that I can find it anyway. Then I have to remember to charge the phone. No can do.
I can follow the cord and find my land line.
- I’m getting senile: I figured out how to download a ringtone onto my smartphone. It plays Reasons by Earth Wind and Fire. When someone calls, I forget that it’s the phone and start dancing. Very embarrassing.
My land line rings (like a phone). I answer it (like Pavlov’s dog salivating.)
I know, I know that I need help, but I just can’t do it alone.
Artwork by Saundra Johnson. Visit Rodeo Market Gallery to purchase.
I will never sell this piece because it is very special to me. It is one of the first portraits I did and it was of my grandson a few years ago.
There are no video games at grandma’s house, but grandma has bubbles. Like fragile dreams that are easily popped, he can continuously breathe life into thousands of bubbles and become mesmerized as they slowly ascend, carrying troubles with them if only for a few brief moments. He and his friends spend hours with grandma’s bubbles, giggling and chasing them through the yard.
This picture hangs next to my television set and I often find myself looking away from the evening news, looking away from stories of mass shootings, ISIS and politics, looking into the innocent eyes of my precious grandson and making a mental note to buy more bubbles and somehow make the world alright.
Do you remember collecting pop bottles in your radio flyer in order to save up enough money to buy your favorite goodies?
Having your nose pressed against the case filled with Swedish fish, wax lips and pixie sticks; the clerk patiently helping you to calculate the total of “three red shoe laces” and “two jaw breakers?”
Before I started school, I learned to calculate how many candy necklaces and pumpkin seeds I could purchase with the proceeds of a wagon full of pop bottles – years before I knew anything about recycling.
I couldn’t stop smiling as I painted this piece, reminiscing about the little brown paper treasure bag from long ago, filled with the adventures of Bazooka Joe and his gang. Continue reading