personal poetry and daily journal
art and art news
Monday, April 30, 2012
Portrait of my Grandmother continued...
It's hard not to try and draw "better" or without flaws but to tell you the truth as an artist that way of thinking usually leads to disaster. One has to start with an open mind and without expectations and to let what happens just happen to get the "true" expression or to relay what one is feeling and or wants to say.
My portrait of my Grandmother started out as a tribute but really I want it to just feel like her. It's hard to do.
She was like my anchor. She kept my moorings tight and me headed in the right direction without even speaking a word.
I knew her expectations and standards of me and how I was to conduct myself. Wilma Banks would make me laugh with her unabashed honesty and wit and frustrate me with her child-like stubbornness. Sometimes both at the same time. As I became an adult I learned the value in that quality she had to make me laugh all the while taking a stand or a position on a topic(usually my life) that she would not budge on...I could talk to her about anything and often did. Even if I just went to her apartment and talked in circles she listened. Always with love and laughter she would set my heart and mind at ease and even if I left her small antique packed place without any answers I knew I had a friend,a confidant and someone who was rooting for me. Even if all I did was stop over and just sit with her and have a cup of tea and watch the Frugal Gourmet with the volume turned way to high I knew there was a bouy just peaking above the break in any wave of my life and if I started to sink she would hold me up. Here are a few more pics of my drawing. They do not do Wilma Banks Temple justice.