Too Hard, Part Three

A few years ago, my mom and I visited Blowing Rock, North Carolina. This is where her mom, my G’ma grew up. We were exploring a bit, and I took a few photos of a little creek near G’ma’s homestead. Mom expressed an interest in having me paint this for her, and I have been […]

Too Hard, Part Two

When something is too hard, we go slowly. Think about a steep trail. Think about moving a heavy piece of furniture. S L O W L Y. The background, the part where the sunlight is brightest, and the bank to the right of that area is beginning to make sense. Ick. This is terrible, and […]

Too Hard

Since spending hours working on a painting that is too hard for me (i.e. “above my pay grade”), I’ve been thinking about how we handle things in life that are too hard. . . we take them S L O W L Y. I can’t remember when I started this painting. It was many drawings, […]

Easier a Little Bit Too Hard

That was an awkward title. See yesterday’s title and post about “a little bit too hard” and then maybe this will make sense. Still a little bit too hard, but not as difficult as The Flower Girl. This is Grandma’s Creek. It is where my Grandma grew up, outside of Blowing Rock, North Carolina. Oh so very […]

Grandma, what were you thinking??

Grandma’s family had to cross this creek (called a “branch” in the local venacular) in order to reach their home. Mom and I were warned not to try to see the site (home was burned by vandals quite awhile ago) because of snakes. Creepy, hunh? Instead of contending with snakes, we trespassed ever so slightly […]

More North Carolina photos

Rather than invade the privacy of my newly met distant relatives, I will show you some of my photos from the other parts of my trip. I love stone structures! I This was my only view of the blue ridges of the Blue Ridge Mountains. This is the church where the family reunions used to […]

More about all grown up

While in NC, Mom and I took the back road to the family reunion. I wanted to see the family cemetery, the site where Grandma grew up, the church where the reunions used to happen and any other sight that seemed connected to Mom’s family. We were tootling along a country road, and suddenly I […]