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Friday, August 26, 2005


Dear Mark,

I am sorry that you are gone. Why didn't you wear your damn helmet? I have picked out this corvette for you to ride off into eternity in. I am sorry that the engine sounds like it does, but what can you do about a car with wings? I imagine you can work on it and you'll spend your time doing something constructive.

Thank you for being a good friend to me. I loved being able to talk to you about anything and everything at work without judgement. You encouraged me to take chances when I was feeling timid. You reminded me that life just wasn't that serious. What I would give right now to hear you say for the millionth time, "Sew buttons on a balloon, get a bang outta life." Well, that is exactly what you did. You lived well, you did so many things and you were just embarking on another adventurous chapter.

I will keep an eye on Louie for you. He misses you terribly and he keeps saying, "Fifteen years, I love him so much, I wanted to hear him tell me he got that promotion....This is terrible, he loves you all so much." He needed you to take care of him and he is so small and fragile I just can't imagine what he will do without your strength. He and your family all loved you so very much. Thank you for sharing them. Oh, yeah, and they said to stop hogging all Grandma's mashed potatoes.

I am glad that I was lucky enough to be your friend. I love you.

Laura

Wednesday, August 24, 2005


My next project will incorporate painting and assemblage. The paintings will be on huge masonite canvases: Five 4'x8' boards, each with a body part filling the space entirely; a hand, a foot, a face, an elbow, and a knee. Between each of these will be a shadowbox containing objects (found objects, painted, photographs) related to each painting. I am planning on painting each body part realistically, but you know how "happy accidents" are. I will let the paintings take me where they will. The shadowboxes will be 1'x2'x4" and will be whitewashed and sanded.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

It is my last week before class starts. I am counting down the days til I can get into the studio with Harmony Hammond. I am scared, intimidated, nervous and very, very excited! I am trying to keep myself open to any and all possibilities.

Monday, August 15, 2005

A closer look at the colors used. The paint is wet and I am still learning how to use the digital camera so there is quite a bit of reflection. I am hoping, like the painting, this will get better.

This painting is progressing slowly. I think it is important to share the process. I consider myself still pretty wet behind the ears when it comes to painting even though I have been at it for nearly 14 years. If you think that art is genius, I can tell you it isn't. Artmaking is the near compulsive desire to create and create. If you wonder what you might be able to do, I recommend it. There will never be another person exactly like you. Noone will ever have lived when you lived, noone will ever have seen the world through your eyes. The things you say and the marks you make will never be made again. You are important. Art is about the probable and the possible becoming real. How do you know what you can't do until you have tried it?

The canvas painted on here was donated by friends back in Tennessee. Thank you Les and Amy for supporting me during a time when I was poor in dollars, but rich in friends. Both of you were and continue to be a source of inspiration. Posted by Picasa

Heat Posted by Picasa

Red has many meanings including the color of blood, cherries, tomatoes and precious gems like rubies. Red can be the color of revolution or the color of debt. Here, red is passion and heat and the red-faced shyness so many of us share . Posted by Picasa

Momma,

Thank you for the opportunity to make things. You encouraged me to believe that I could do anything that I set my mind to. Remember when you sat at the typewriter and I practiced piano in the same room? I would imagine that the stories you were writing were creating worlds around me and my piano. The sound of a typewriter still makes me feel nostalgic. You were an ordinary person with an extraordinary imagination. You helped me to see that regular people make a difference every day. You helped me to realize that there is magic in everything we all do and that each moment we live is a gift.

What would I have done without your stories? You made the Grimm brothers the funniest guys on earth. (What exactly was that big bad wolf after again?) Thank you for reading to me and showing me that quiet time spent with a good book just might be some of the best travelling I would ever do.

I can't wait to drink mint juleps with you in Savannah. You are as magical and wild as any old, Southern city could be. I love you.

Laura

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Drawing is like relearning a language every time. It can be quite difficult when there are so many more important things in the world to do. These drawings are like songs to a stutterer. Singing allows the message to flow out freely.

Mother and Child Posted by Picasa

Lyrical Posted by Picasa

Warming up lubricates the brain and the wrist. Posted by Picasa

The past two weeks I have been working on the last of my papers that were due. I am finally over the hurdle and feel free to take courses to complete my studies. The following two works are part of the series utilizing tools for escaping. Do you believe that thinking and reading both apply?

Layout for Thought Posted by Picasa

Escape 3 Posted by Picasa

LaurasWorks