MOSES BOTKIN CHALLENGE January

Light
6x6" oil on canvas  $125 plus shipping

NFS


It's that time again! And I was on time! Almost. This month's theme, "A Sunlit Place" was chosen by Vicki. Thanks Vic, it's a great one.

I'm having trouble with my external drive, the one with ALL of my art and photographs. Not too upset thought, my Mac Genie says he can get all the stuff off, for some reason it won't mount. Anyway, I was lucky to find this shot, taken 2 summers ago, on the hard drive. I thought I had another full day to work on this....gone back to guessing the date again...so it's not completed as I saw it in my head, but I decided to call it anyway.

Finally was "forced" to work in the new studio. Why forced you ask? Well, even though it's not quite completed yet, I'd moved all my stuff down there,  and it started to become "that new box of crayons" for me. If I open it and use the crayons, they won't be new anymore. Plus, a new start, in a new space, a space Tim's never seen...felt weird. Silly right?

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and enjoy...

Party Balloon
8x6" oil on hardboard
©2013 Diana Moses Botkin
http:/www.dianamosesbotkin.com/

Exhibition Hallway Late Afternoon

12x6" oil on panel

 www.vickiandrandyrossart.blogspot.com

©V. N. Ross

A PEACEFUL NEW YEAR

9x12 scratch board NFS

I'll be somewhat relieved when this particular holiday season is over to be honest. Keeping my outlook positive is really helping but it'll be nice to get back to not having to feel like I have to fake jolly. It's a difficult time of year for so many who've lost loved ones, both recently and in the past.

But it's also a time of renewal. Of possibly being able to accept what is and move forward. I know that I will never move on from loving and "losing" Tim but I can and must move forward, with his joyful memory as close to me as my next breath. I must say that the season has not been nearly as horrible as I expected. There really is something to this thought vibration thing. Invariably, when I choose the higher thought, my experience follows suit. Conversely, I've found the opposite to be true. The mornings I wake up and assume a victim posture, there's a lot of toe stubbing, plate dropping, deep depression and missing my best friend like crazy.

I know I've said the above many times in many different ways but I almost feel guilty not feeling constantly devastated, even though I know that's not what Tim wants. How silly to think that being in constant pain would please a loved one who has passed, as if it would show them how much they are missed.

Anyway, I've been doing a lot of purging and throwing out... still. I'm having some work done upstairs and I've been forced to get rid of a lot of stuff. Yesterday I cleaned out the "art" closet, which in reality is just a closet in one of the bedrooms up here. Over the years I'd stuffed it to near bursting with artwork, boards, books, papers and paintings and I finally had to face it all. Somewhere Tim is smiling. He was so after me to finally go through it all. I found some wonderful memories and work that we did in the early years when we used to throw down.

The scratch board above was done when I still lived with the 'rents, way back in the day. My last name was Barnes then but I replaced it with Berry in Photoshop. I remember being so proud of it, thinking that I'd been thrown a bone by the art gods. Working from complete darkness and picking out the light was quite a lesson in values. I'd love to try one again soon.

 I was particularly thrilled to find copies of these illustrations that Tim did of us in '95. Working in the same office at the same job for 15 years was such a gift and more fun than I can put into words. We kept each other sane—the pressure in the marketing department of a newspaper was incredibly intense. And he was so creative and eager to learn anything new, and such a positive influence. And after a hard day, we'd get in the car and just unload, complain, make funny noises and finally laugh until we arrived home. Our hearts were broken when I was asked to retire. We had hoped to one day find a way to work together again, but it was not to be.

In those days, Tim did so many illustrations, both for the paper and for fun. I'd always find a drawing or cartoon on my desk as a surprise. I am so fortunate to have so many loving memories.

I'd like to thank everyone for all of the support and kindness I've received through this most difficult year. Thank you for visiting and following my blog, for reading my posts and leaving messages that have helped so much, for flowers, for checking in to let me know I'm remembered, for being there. I hope to get back to some sort of normal schedule after the new year. My new studio is ready and I can't wait to get started.

I'm putting aside time each day to visit other blogs and see what I've missed and catch up on my thank yous. Until then, I wish you all a healthy, wealthy and safe New Year and again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for caring.

CASEY and HOLIDAY GREETINGS

16x20" oil on canvas
SOLD

Meet Casey. He is, unfortunately, no longer with us but I'm sure he's kickin' it with his buds somewhere over the rainbow bridge. I'd like to thank his Mom for her patience and an incredible reference photo to work from. This portrait was pure fun to work on.

It's that time again. Cannot believe how quickly time flies and clearly, still not wrapping my head around himself not being here with us. Tim and I took the "surly, aloof artist, we're far too cool for this" route and never really created any sort of traditional holiday rituals once we broke from our respective family festivities about 8 years ago. So, gratefully, I'm not missing trimming the tree and putting up lights with him. I always sort of regretted not going there, until now that is. We just knew, being us, all the stuff would still be there when the next Christmas rolled around. We celebrated the holidays in our own unique way. Great old movies, good wine and a feast prepared by the chef himself. That I will definitely miss.

I'm doing really well actually. Keeping my frequency open to the one Tim is on. When I follow my path, get out of my head and avoid the pity pot I open up the channels and clear the way for feeling him near. Missing him and feeling sorry for myself are two completely different things so I'm focused on choosing my thoughts carefully.

The events of last week in Newtown, Connecticut put things clearly into perspective. I have no words. There is really nothing any of us can say. I saw two different statements from two different parents of lost children and I felt both humbled and oddly hopeful. They spoke only of love, forgiveness and honoring their babies by not becoming bitter and full of hate.

Those are, as it turns out, the perfect words.

I wish everyone a peace-filled and safe holiday season and I hope we all find a way to, finally, live together.

PINOT

16x20"  oil on heavyweight canvas NFS

This is Pinot.  I'd like to thank his Mom for her patience. It's taken ages for me to get this done. It seemed as though I would never finish and there's so much more I'd like to do but I'm ridiculously behind, so I called it.

There's a difference that I became aware of while working on Pinot. I can feel a shift in the perception of my work. It's a good thing, I think, however it has affected the length of time it usually takes to complete a painting. But there are other factors to be considered now, of course.

I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving. I counted it as my first official "real" holiday without Tim's physical presence. It sucked but it didn't, if that makes any sense. My good friends, Jason and his wife Lori, visited that morning and made pumpkin pancakes and turkey sausage for breakfast. It was wonderful and I was so grateful. They assured me that they weren't making sure the widow Berry wasn't alone on a holiday but I couldn't help but feel a bit like the lonely shut in. Silly I know. Even sillier, on some level I think I might have thought that perhaps Tim would be rewarded with a one-day pass to spend the day with us. Strange things dance around in ones head at a time like this. But really, let's face it, I wasn't all that grounded before he left!

After they left I had myself a good cry but it was cut short by the distinct feeling that Tim was not havin' it! I could hear him scold me in my head..."Come one now, you know the deal! I'm right here and I'm perfectly fine. No more ugly cries, vacate the pity pot and get on with it. We will see each other again and until then you need to stay positive!"

Okay. I'll try.

After that, the day was actually a good one. I had invites from Tim's bro Conor and his wife Sheila and a few other friends, but preferred to spend my first Thanksgiving without Tim...with Tim, if that makes any sense. I know it sounds strange but there's no way I could ever talk myself into feeling as good as I do sometimes if he wasn't here with us. It's uncanny. Either that or I've completely lost my stuff.

This snap is from one of our first dates back in '93. I think we were at a party for a co-worker. We were always so nervous because we were both so shy. That's one of the reasons we were so perfect together.

I swore I saw him today as I was driving to the market. He was driving this big SUV and smiled right at me! It was startling! George Anderson and Theresa Caputo (the Long Island Medium on TLC) both say that it's not our imagination when we think we see a loved one who is no longer with us.

That's fine with me. Even that quick glimpse today did wonders.

Also, please forgive me, I'm almost half-way through my thank you's for the kind and generous comments left on my last post. I so appreciate your words of support and your patience. I had promised myself I'd get on them right away but again, time just got away from me.

Moses Botkin Challenge / November

"Adulthood"
6x6" oil on linen

It's a good thing I've gotten back to the challenge, I haven't been able to get started again since the storm. Yeah, I know, I do have a lot of excuses for not working, but ya gotta admit, they are good ones! More on that very badly behaved young lady named Sandy in a bit.

The theme this month was "Adulthood",  logically following last month's  theme of "Adolescence". This time I decided to look through some photos I'd taken this past summer that I had planned to use for a series entitled "Men at Work", but it never came to fruition. I'd get these ideas and feel energized but then quickly lose interest for obvious reasons. I thought, since the house was full of men working, I had a wonderful variety of models to choose from, why not use them?

This is Mike who owns a company that did work in the backyard. I am thrilled with the results and spent many hours this past summer enjoying the peace and communing with Tim, interrupted by the occasional crying jag and fleeting feelings of guilt for having made the changes. But, all in all, being able to spend my first summer without my best friend in that space, was a gift and helped immeasurably.

I tried something different with this painting. First I worked smaller than usual and secondly, I used only a minimal amount of Liquin. I mixed the colors and kept the paint thick while working and I really like the results. I'm looking forward to trying more like this.

Now. On to Sandy. What a mess. A week before I'd ever heard that name in conjunction with a storm, I sat down at the computer and logged on to the Weather site thinking it was late in the season and wasn't it wonderful that we made it through without a big hurricane hitting our area. Perhaps I shouldn't have done that.

The dire warnings all week before were, to say the least, terrifying. Unprecedented, Frankenstorm, Superstorm, and on and on and on. Everything conspired to create a never before seen weather event and it was headed right towards Long Island. I miss Tim more than I can express, as I've said many times, however, waiting for the storm to arrive without him was not a good time.

I have been very fortunate to have made life-long friends with the owners of the company that is working on our house and will be forever grateful for the help and caring shown me at this most difficult and frightening time. Thank you Jason and Lori!

And thank you too Eileen and Tad, Jon and Laura! I'll be forever grateful for your help and caring. And thank you too Conor and Sheila for your concern and love.

The night the storm arrived was really not fun but I kept focusing on my chosen path, had lots of wine and spent hours talking to Tim. I was typing an email to a friend when the power went out. It would not return for the next six days. And I was one of the lucky ones. As I type this there are thousands still in the dark. During the outage, I had two very unattractive melt-downs. No one escaped my rather loud, expletive-laden, pity-drenched tirades. Not even Tim.  But when they passed I decided that my frame of mind determined my experience so I did my best to realize how fortunate I was and that the lights would come on when they came on.

Something happens when one is deprived of the creature comforts that we take for granted every day. I had no idea what the extent of the damage was to the East Coast for three days. One of our close friends from work had his power restored so I was able to take a nice hot shower, do some laundry and watch the news. I realized then that I had been incredibly lucky. I only lost two small branches and not one single shingle took flight. And, I'm closer to the Long Island Sound than I am the Atlantic but not close enough to either to suffer any flood damage.

My friend Jason came over with a hot breakfast and took me for a ride to see some of the damage to the South Shore while we charged our cell phones. I was flabbergasted! When I returned home I decided to count my blessings, stock up on candles and books and get on with it. Unsafe as it was I had about 25 candles going, shut the bedroom doors and was quite warm while I read book after book by the strangely cold glow of my 2 foot long flashlight.

Needless to say, I was giddy with delight when the lights came back on and went around turning things on and off for an hour or so, running the water until it was hot, listening to the fridge go on and off warming my toes by the now clicking with life heating elements.

I hesitate to share this next bit because it makes me look, well, not very bright but what the hell. My neighbors came over on the first night without power to check on me which I really appreciated. We sat in the living room by candlelight talking about the storm, until inevitably one of them asked to use the bathroom. I asked, without thinking, if she had to do number 1 or number 2. She looked at me, surprised and basically, with her expression, asking why I needed to know. Well, there's no power, the toilets don't flush, I said wondering how she didn't realize that fact.

I had, in fact that very morning, headed out to the woods to answer nature's call because the power was out, so when my neighbor announced that the toilets would indeed flush, I was sure she was wrong. Of course they flushed and after a good 3 minutes of much needed laughter I was shown that I could use the gas stove as well. I was so happy to be shown that I was still able to flush and cook, on the first night without power, I didn't mind the least bit looking like a moron.

I'd like to extend my thoughts and prayers to those who lost loved ones, homes and possessions during this terrifying event. If you haven't yet and are able, please consider contributing whatever you can to help.

And again and again, your comments and caring as I go forward without Tim are helping me more than you'll ever know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

And now enjoy these amazing paintings by the group:

"New Family"
6x8" oil on hardboard
©2012 Diana Moses Botkin

http://dianamosesbotkin.blogspot.com/

 "Father Frederick Hanna"

  Oil on Canvas

  24" x 36"

  ©2012 Mark Adams

http://www.markadamsstudio.blogspot.com/

Moses Botkin Challenge / October

"Adolescence" 8x6" oil on canvas

   

I've developed the rather immature habit of guessing the date lately. I was sure it was the 10th and I had a few days to finish the painting on the easel and get my challenge painting done. Checking the recorded programs on the DVR last night, I was stunned to see it was the 14th! Woops!

I couldn't blow it off, it's my first challenge painting since Tim left in February, plus the subject matter was my choice this month. The choice of what to paint is yet another part of my work that Tim helped me with.  Still reaching for the phone to ask his advice or mentally cataloging the questions I want to ask or the latest joke I want to share when he arrives home from work, but that's normal I guess. Anyway, I chose "Adolescence" but only because the previous theme had been "Childhood." Seemed a natural progression.

I had some lofty ideas. Wild but studied brush strokes evoking the perpetual angst of the young. Clearly that didn't happen. I gotta get out more and find some live models. Maybe even knock on my neighbor's doors. But, instead, rushed and not having a clue what to do I logged onto a stock photo site, typed in angst and purchased a photo that I thought might work. So what you see above is my interpretation of the photo I chose. Not what I had in mind, but at least it's done and I needed to know I could still paint quickly if needed. So, another milestone, I'm back in the challenge group. I think.

I fear I've pushed the limits of your patience with my many accounts of how cool Tim was/is or how deeply in love we were/are, so I'll just say that I'm feeling better. Days go by without a tear being shed which in turn creates guilt. The huge hole in my heart has at last produced what feels like a scab. Very frail though. A slight scratch, the tiniest tender touch and I fear I would hear it fall noisily to the ground and the tears and pain would again begin spewing out. But, it's a start. I'm smiling more and talking to him without that accusing tone in my voice. The "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" continue unabated, but I think at last that I'm beginning to accept, really accept, what is.

Thank you again for your caring thoughts and support.

And now, please enjoy the other members interpretations of "Adolescence."

"Tyler the Teenager"

14x18" Pastel

© V.N.Ross

 

Self Portrait 1968

18x27" oil on canvas

http://www.markadamsstudio.blogspot.com/ 

 "Soothing Break"

oil on hardboard 6x9"

©2012 Diana Moses Botkin

Happy Birthday My Love and a Commission Almost Done

16x20" oil on heavyweight canvas
SOLD Private Collection


The kids above are a commission I'm just finishing that I'm very grateful for. I got a call last August from a client who wanted a painting done of his kids for his wife's birthday. I wasn't feeling that focused but thought it would be a good opportunity to get back in the spirit of working again so I accepted it. And, as it turns out, it's just what the doctor ordered. Or as Tim said, through George, the medium..."get back to work, you think too much. It will be therapy for you and you know I'm right." And, as usual, even from a different plane, he was right...again. I used to hate when that happened.

I have some more work to do, but I'm thrilled with the canvas surface. I'm going to use this heavyweight surface for everything. There's just such a nice finish to the paint with it. I just heard from the client and he's happy, so that means I am too.

 Tomorrow is Timothy Berry's 45th birthday. Last year, when he turned 44, we as usual, didn't make a big deal. Who would have even guessed that it would be his last?

This was a Polaroid snap I took back in '93. We were all pimped out because we were on our way his folks house for Easter dinner. Our first outing as a couple at the 'rents place! I was nervous as hell but it turned out really well. They were very warm and welcoming and we enjoyed ourselves. He's simply perfect isn't he?

Such an incredible human being. So warm and giving. Such an amazing partner. I was so fortunate. I decided, just yesterday, that even if I knew it would end like it did, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

I'm feeling better. I miss him more than I can express but each morning and evening I talk to his portrait and kiss him good morning and good night. I feel a bit like Cloris Leachman in Young Frankenstien kissing "Wictor's" painting, but somehow I think he's there and he appreciates it. I know I do.

I've started awake more than a few times of late, sure that I'd open my eyes and see him standing there, at the side of the bed, smiling at me, telling me he loves me.  I'm grateful that there was nothing left unsaid. Nothing either of us needed to correct or change. It's strange but I realized that because of the way we appreciated each other, at any time we were prepared to be separated by death without any regret or longing to change what we said or did. I'm very grateful for that. We were always sure to express the love we felt, the appreciation for each others presence, for the things we did for each other, the things we said.

"I'd love you if you were a head on a plate!"

That was the most romantic thing he ever said to me and at the risk of being cheesy, we were always telling each other how much we cared. I'd been fretting about looking older, gaining weight, whatever and he just took my face in his hands, looked into my eyes and said that. I'll never forget it. What freedom! What joy! I wasn't relegated to being just the "wife," always looking my best. I was his best friend and he was mine. We trusted each other completely. There would never be a cross moment where a previously shared weakness would be attacked or pointed out. We felt completely and utterly safe with one another.  I consider myself most fortunate to have had that kind of relationship, even though it's no longer shared on the physical plane.

So again, thank you all so much for caring. I'm doing much better than I ever expected but that's because he's here. He's with us. Happy Birthday my love.