Happy

Places and things

It goes without saying that people and relationships are the most important things in our human existence. Without them we are but stick figures, dimensionless, solitary. Like you, my family and friends are precious. And maybe like you, I also derive tremendous satisfaction from being out in nature, and particularly in my fledgeling garden.

My garden (though it struggles against the elements, deer, slugs and powdery mildew) brings me a great deal of happiness. There's something about getting my hands in the dirt or finding a frog under a leaf (always scaring the pants off me) that soothes my soul.

New Roses © Lissa Banks 2014

It's also the ultimate act of optimism. After all, each season is full of disappointment. The aphids that attacked, the tough little radishes that never grew succulent hips, the chipmunks who feasted on all and anything I attempted to start from seed. And yet each spring I dream of armloads of flowers and hope to get sick of zucchini as I peruse little seed packets, pile a wobbly cart full of six-packs of annuals and gallon containers of perennials. I persevere.

This year, in the hopes of establishing a few perennial gardens, I planted some roses. I was late out of the gate. Lowe's had some rather sad looking bare root specimens and I'd heard that they are a popular deer appetizer. Undaunted I dug my rocky soil and plunked them in. I was rewarded.

Maybe my love of gardening is connected to my love of painting. My paintings usually begin with some grand vision and a healthy dose of trepidation. Like my garden, there are risks and danger around every corner. If I'm lucky, I am rewarded with something I can be proud of.

This time I hit the daily double. My roses thrive (and have so far evaded our furry friends) and my newest painting stands as proof. Happiness.


  For more about my work follow me on Facebook or visit my website Lissa Banks Paintings.

Chocolate and Ginger Ale

Celebrating a commission

I've just finished a project, a commission, that's taken me longer than I'd expected and has turned out better than I could have imagined. I'd love to post an image of it here but won't be able to do so until it's delivered, which will be a while. For now I'll just need to be content to celebrate with a few pieces of dark chocolate and ginger ale since it's a little too early for a glass of wine!

Working on commission is a different bird from working on my own. The times I've been so honored to perform such a task I've had to work from a photo that was taken by someone else. This presents a few problems. 

First, not being behind the lens removes me from the emotion of the moment. I must rely on others to explain to me their connection to the event if it's not immediately evident. In the case of the image that inspired the painting below, I was fortunate to know one of the subjects. It made it easier to grasp the melancholy that the patron was hoping I'd capture.

Ruth Mary & Callum  © 2014 Lissa Banks

 Second, sometimes the image is of a lower resolution or is a scan from an old snapshot. Lots of data gets lost in smaller images. To achieve the kind of realism that is often a part of my work small details can be lost or the speckles and "noise" can interfere with understanding object boundaries.

And finally, not all images are optimum. A good composition isn't just about where objects are, it's also about color, contrast, line and balance, for a start. A lack of contrast, for example, makes it difficult to represent depth and keep the painting from being too flat or boring. My most recent endeavor presented that challenge. You'll have to trust me for now that I believe I solved the problem.

Fishing © 2014 Lissa Banks

And sometimes I have the good fortune to be presented with an extraordinary image with beautiful light, color, contrast, composition and clarity, like the inspiration of the painting above, and all is well.

Possibly the hardest thing to do, however, is to try and imagine myself as the commissioner who has in their own head a vision of what they want to see. When I'm able to tap into that place and also work true to my own style the stars align and we have a success. I say "we" because it really is a collaboration. After all, the painting would never have come to light without the patron's desire.

  For more about my work follow me on Facebook or visit my website Lissa Banks Paintings.

Thoughts on Painting

...or the lack thereof.

Since this little tack I've taken in my life has been largely motivated by a desire to follow my bliss and paint, it seemed logical to me to also turn this blog around into something that focused more about my work.  It's morphed before and it can again.

Problem is, I'm not terribly adept at talking about my work. I'm great at talking about paintings, just not mine so much. So I'll just rip off the bandaid and tell the tale of my most recent work, Panhandle TX. Maybe I'll get better at this as I go along.

If you were along for the ride when I blogged about our cross country drive you might remember my July 31, 2013 post that featured the inspiration for this painting along with the only mention of the great state of Texas, with apologies to all Texans. We'd only crossed over a very tiny bit of the panhandle, after leaving spectacular New Mexico, and we found the place desolate and dusty. Believe me when I say that my painting is a verdant Eden compared to the drought stricken landscape we encountered.

But as is often the case, when I really dive into an inspiration image, I find so much more there than "meets the eye" to make a shameless pun. In my little iPhone snapshot I found life clinging tenaciously to the roadside, turned earth teeming with dried seed heads just waiting for rain to give them life, and a battered highway exit sign seemingly pointing the way the last truck took across an arid field. What at first glance seemed so bleak, became rich in meaning.

It is also worth saying that after witnessing the devastation of Texas, entering Oklahoma truly felt like entering the land of Oz. Like an instantaneous miracle, gray yielded to green and all seemed right with the world. So much so that I celebrated the experience with another painting earlier this year, Oklahoma.

You can see these and all of my paintings on my website: www.lissabankspaintings.com or on my Facebook page www.facebook.com/lissa.banks.paintings.

Romancing the House

Some hard work...inside

It took one day to get all the blasted boxes into the house but many more to settle in. When grime was wiped away (off the house and me!) I faced making this house my home.

First Task: House Guts

I love my tractor

I knew the house had its issues. When I turned 30 my back went out, so why not this house, especially if it never seemed to have taken very good care of itself. So I had some inkling that stuff needed fixing. How bad? Hmmm, let me put it this way, my carpenter now enters the house announcing "Honey I'm home" and brings me vegetables from his garden.

The short list of things that needed doing immediately: new electric panel (the old one had melted), new furnace, new neutralizer (yes, I have a well now), all new faucets and shower heads, new water heater, gutters and facia board, exterior window sills, deck work, mold remediation and insulation. And a few dozen other smaller tasks.

I bought a tractor to handle the acre of lawn on my nearly two acre lot and started to clear the weeds, fallen limbs, dead trees, poison ivy and carpenter ants.

Second task: Studio

After: Studio with floor
cloth awaiting final
varnishing.

Before: Yellow walls,
woodwork primed,
carpet pulled up.

Determined to minimize down time creativity-wise, I set to putting my studio in order. Carpet had to go. The yellow walls had to go. Lighting needed to be installed.

I painted the walls, painted the floors to make plywood boards look like porch decking and painted shelving to match my other furniture. It was a paint fest for a room in which, hopefully, the painting would never end!

I also experimented with making a canvas floor cloth. Popular in colonial America, I thought it would be appropriate to my new home state and practical for my studio. I am so happy with the result I've pulled the carpet up off the stairs to make a black striped one to cascade down. Not sure when I'll get to it but it's on the list.

Third task: Guest Room

With my most excellent girlfriend, Tree, due to visit that summer, the guest room was second on the list. I was determined to make her room the happiest place on Main Street (Norfolk, that is).

Not sure what possessed me but I really wanted a funky wallpaper. After picking myself up off the floor from the wallpaper sticker shock, I thought why do I need any stinking wallpaper, I'll find a stencil! Etsy to the rescue.

I cursed like a sailor making it happen. It was 90° with 90% humidity for the two weeks it took to finish and I nearly expired in the process but I love, love, love the result. The guys installing insulation in the attic and the carpenter even liked it.  It really is a happy room.

Fourth, fifth...sixtieth tasks: 

Laundry now a slightly
less dreaded task

And then there was a new grand baby boy born in September, sweet William; a visit to California and Oregon, a half cord wood to stack; living room and study painted; family and friends visits; Christmas; snow, cold, snow, cold and more cold and more snow; three art exhibits; ten new paintings; and more.

My last projects were to paint the little den upstairs, spuzz up the laundry alcove and to try and make the guest bath look like I'd spent thousands of dollars on a major upgrade. The laundry room is now less of a drudge. It used to be a dreary beige.

New light fixtures, a snazzy new color, and a (fake)
marble countertop really transformed this bathroom

But the bathroom turned out better than I'd hoped. In addition to giving it a fresh coat of flannel gray paint I desperately needed to improve the rather drab Formica countertop. Ever the optimist, I thought I'll make it look like marble.

Hint: Rustoleum makes a marvelous product that sticks like super glue to the laminate! It stinks to high heaven but it works. To that I added coat after coat of paint and polyurethane and finished with a silky coat of car wax to mimic the smooth finish of polished marble. If I do say so myself, it's stunning. Now I want to marbleize everything!

And now for something completely different...

I'm going to hang up the scrapers and sandpaper for now. There is still plenty to do, but I'm planning to focus on what really feeds my soul: painting (like paintings). Today I launched my Lissa Banks Paintings Facebook page, like it, share it, tell your friends, I want to sell some paintings!

That and working in my garden, mowing the lawn, picking cucumber beetles off the plants and chasing the neighbor cat out of the yard.

Sunday morning I woke to find a horse in the back yard, grazing on my grass and switching his tail. It reminded me of why I love living here. I'm close to the things I love: one of my children, grandchildren, nature, my life work.

A little over a year ago I traded a paycheck for something you couldn't pay me to give up: love, serenity, clean air and the satisfaction of knowing that whatever my future, it's my own to make.

Next: Thoughts on painting

It's Been a Long Time...

Where Was I?

dramatic skies

Oh yeah, some eight months ago I left you all hanging. My apologies, now back to our intrepid travelers...

We'd spent a night in the Poconos and were about to embark on the final leg of our journey. Breathing in the cool mountain air we packed up the car, and Boo, for the last time. Pennsylvania was endless.

New York flew by in a flash, literally, we floated through during a thunderstorm and we even touched tires to New Jersey, briefly, before entering Connecticut.

Taking the Road Less Traveled

I'd made the executive (and most excellent) decision to get off the beaten path once we'd passed Hartford and found a dotted route on the old fashioned paper map that indicated a scenic route. It didn't disappoint. We passed farms and villages that belonged on picture postcards. Covered bridges and apple orchards in full bloom.

the ladies

Signs for fresh produce beckoned, after all, an empty refrigerator was greeting us at the other end of our day. One stand was "manned" by a rather large, sleeping black lab. We dutifully paid our $4 and scored a fat wad of chunky purple asparagus. At another, happy hens clucked a welcome as we made our solitary purchase and traveled on.

For lunch we stopped at a diner, not realizing where we are. It was Newtown CT. Pictures of shared grief from around the world decorated the walls of the restaurant. The gas station next door had a handmade sign as we entered that read, "We Choose Love." Words born of an unthinkable aftermath.

We wound further north through Rhode Island (Mike thought the name Woonsocket was hilarious) and finally into Massachusetts. Suddenly the past seven days seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. We were here.

New Beginnings

a blank canvas, and lots of weeds

After picking up the key at my son's house, we drove over to my new home, just a little over a mile away. Pulling into the drive, we stopped the car to take a first sighting photograph. Like the emerging spring it stood there looking a bit damp and chilly but full of promise.

Since I'd left Pasadena I had tried hard to keep the future, and not the past, in my sights. Now it was a reality. There was much to do. Tons to clean, measuring to do, layouts to verify before the movers arrived with the rest of my life, a refrigerator, and a home, to fill with more than just asparagus and eggs. A new life to lead, memories to make.


Next... romancing the house.

Numb

Yogurt and berries

With an ambitious journey planned for the day we noshed on yogurt and berries before starting our day.  Boo still fell for the bacon routine.

Missouri vineyard

We weren't too far out of Rolla when we started seeing signs for wine tastings. Wine! Of course, I'd heard that every state in the union grew wines but I didn't expect advertisements. For fun, we jumped off the highway to take a look see (not a sip see, mind you, it was way too early) then headed back on the road.

Somewhere around Effingham, Illinois we hit the 2000 mile mark and it became clear, our butts were numb.

Off roading

With our successful detour into Oklahoma City under our belts we decided to venture off into Mooresville for a little Cajun déjeuner. Mike had found a recommendation on a travel website the night before for what sounded like a great find.

The road into Mooresville was charming. Suburb melted into rural and back as we drove through alfalfa fields and past flowering dogwoods.

We pulled into town and found ourselves parked right in front of Zydeco's, our destination, which was quite fortuitous. Unfortunately, it was closed for lunch on Tuesdays.

I did a little shopping therapy to try to recoup then we found an unremarkable little restaurant where we watched Rachel Ray on the big screen while we ate. Rachel was discussing nail salon hygiene, complete with guests who described their fungal infections. Nice.

Hooray for Ohio

The chicken survives to see rain

It didn't take long to get back onto the highway. A word about Indiana drivers: they suck. (Sorry Indiana. I realize that once again, I'm being uncharitable.) They tailgate, they don't let you in if you need to get over and it seemed that everyone was on their phone. For once, I was glad I wasn't the one driving. Ohio was a welcomed site. Everyone seems to have settled down there.

Two momentous things happened in Ohio: the chicken took its first dive (amazing that it didn't happen before, it survived) and we saw our first rain.


Next... Home in sight

Remembering

Still Lovin' Oklahoma

Saturated fats from our Oklahoma rib-eyes lingered in our guts long after we woke. We passed on breakfast and got on the road.

Let me put one myth to rest. Not everything in Texas is bigger. Oklahoma has the largest crosses and flags in the universe. You can see them coming for miles. Photos do not do them justice, though we tried time and again.

Remembering

We decided to take a detour to the Oklahoma City National Memorial that morning. The last time I drove cross country the Murrah Building was still smoldering and we'd contemplated a visit, but there was no GPS and no highway signs to lead us to the site. I didn't want to pass up this opportunity, cat notwithstanding. Luckily it was a lovely cool day. We found a shady place to park and rolled down the windows a bit.

There isn't much you can do to prepare for the impact of the memorial. We entered through the North Robinson Avenue gate, the reflecting pool lay before us and the iconic chairs were to our left. Time literally stands still on the site. A landscaping crew manicured the already pristine lawn as a few visitors wandered past their roaring mowers.

On the north side of the site sits the Survivor Tree.
A place of reflection and recollection. Beautiful. If you have the chance to stop by you'll never regret the visit.

We had a wonderful lunch at a place called Kitchen No. 324. Yum, nutty fresh baked bread and home made soup. We wished we could linger watching Oklahoma City pass by the restaurant window but there was a cat in our car and miles yet to log.

Missouri yielded yet a new landscape: horizontal sedimentary outcrops and armadillo road kill. After the Elk City Motel 6 we opted to step it up a couple of notches to a new level of pet-friendly motels and pulled into a Super 8. Living large! It was quite nice. Boo loved the place.

Craving some spice we fell for the "best Mexican food north of the border" advert. They did have margaritas. A bright moment.

Another bright moment; I'm no longer homeless. My home purchase closed! Little did I know that a few days after we'd passed through Oklahoma so many, many homes would have been lost to an epic tornado. I am so fortunate to have a home that still sits on its foundation.


Next... Numb