Sometimes a poem inspires me to illustrate it. This is one of my favorite poems and the painting that it inspired:
by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat Or crust and sugar over - Like a syrupy sweet Maybe it just sags Like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
My mother was concerned about our nutrition, so she never bought pre-sweetened cereal – the good stuff with the prize. Instead we were treated to Shredded Wheat and Special K – they never had prizes. Plus – having 3 siblings, there would be no way we would share the prizes without a fair degree of bloodshed. Continue reading
I’m from Pittsburgh and live in Denver, so I bleed football. OK this year’s playoff games didn’t leave me too thrilled but I am still excited to watch the SUPER BOWL.
I am going to watch from home, thank you – the $2,800 ticket price is a little beyond my budget, unless I sell another painting (just kidding.) $2,800 just to watch a game??? What happened to team sports for the masses? Continue reading
Warm Friend on a Cold Day is available as duvet cover, pillow, prints and more on Fine Art America.
My only grandchild lives 1500 miles away. He is six years old. My husband and I went to visit him last month – this is how it went:
ME: May I speak to Andre?
PERSON ON THE OTHER END: Is he expecting your call?
PERSON ON THE OTHER END: Whom shall I say is calling?
ME: Grandma. Continue reading
Politics aside, I’d like to thank President and Mrs. Obama for bringing 8 years of class, elegance, love, grace and warmth to the White House.
Wishing the Obama family much success in their future endeavors. You will be missed.
Prints, phone cases, coffee mugs, and more available on FineArt America.
I want to retire but I can’t do the math. I have no idea how long I expect to live, so how could I possibly know whether or not I have enough money to last me until I die?
Back in the day, retirement was simple — 65, gold watch, have a nice life with a pension. You know, a monthly income that lasted until death – sorta like old school marriage.
If you got sick or senile (old school for Alzheimer’s) you lived with one of your children in their assisted living facility. (Although the thought of living with my children is not one that I cherish)