At the Foot

'At the foot of Mt. Hood'
Plein air painting from Mt. Hood, Oregon.
Watercolor on aquarelle paper, 4 x 6 in, $30.

Purchase.

He found himself at the bottom again. Exasperated from the task of climbing the huge mountain in front of him. To give up is so tempting. To do so means failure, he knew that. To fail without trying will make him less of a man. At least that's how he'll feel about it.

So there he is, at the foot of the mountain. Not sure whether he'll succeed in conquering the heights of it's slopes. One thing he's certain, he'll triumph in every step he make towards his journey.

Besides, a million steps begin at one.

Keep that in mind when you're faced with insurmountable trepidations. Take each day one at a time. It will end soon. Don't keep looking ahead to how much is left for you to endure. Instead, look back and cheer yourself for how far you've gone.

Six

Click on photo to buy this painting.

Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.

Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Six, 6, sixth. Read it aloud again. What comes to mind? The abominable phrase of all things evil.

I pity the number. Is it it's fault to be what it is, to represent the 'otherwise' of good? Or was it a scarlet given by a lonesome, hopeless fellow long time ago. If it only has it's own voice, will it protest the label we put on it? Will it say, 'Give me a chance'.

Chance. Today, I'm doing that. It's time to give 'it' the chance. This isn't just a word play on positive adjectives. This is 'it'. It wasn't at all difficult to ponder on the beautiful sides.

The number '6' is a symbol of fertility, of that amazing gift to produce life. I looked like that when I was pregnant. Tall, skinny with a big 'bloop' (as my husband fondly called my belly) in the middle. I find women sexiest when they're pregnant. I admire those who wish to be one and constantly pray for those who has not been blessed.

I miss those times when I can't bend or see my toes anymore. My husband has this funny picture of me attempting to cut my toenails during my last trimester. I mustered all my yoga moves that time but to no avail. The beauty of being in the 'sixth' figure - you get to be pampered with so much love. And have someone else cut your toenails.

Six. If you're in that 'sixth' stage in life where everything seems to fall out of place, disillusioned, alone, feeling ugly and labeled inconspicuously, give yourself a 'chance'.

Look in the mirror and focus on every curve in your body, mind and soul that is beautiful. Be thankful for who you are. You are an amazing creation. Believe it, live it.

Take Five

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

The grandeur of five's.

Fifth day.

Five paintings.

Five months with my little man.

Five toes and fingers on both sides.

Fifth sibling I lost.

I'll take all five on any given day. Go ahead, celebrate your own five's.

The Fourth

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Life turns like a wheel, my mom would often say. Sometimes you're on top, other times you're down. Either ways, she say, you win. You learn humility when you're at the bottom and cheer more when you're up. What's important is to enjoy the 'distances in between'.

While painting this piece, I contemplated on those times in my life when I ended up fourth. This is the fourth painting anyways, so let me talk about being 'fourth'.

I was an achiever early on. My parents mentored me well when I was going to school. My first taste of victory as a child was when I graduated first honor in pre-school. That was the start. It will be followed by handfuls of academic achievements over the years until I finished college as a cum laude.

Not always the first. Some years I'll end up third, fourth or just in the middle. I stumbled countless times in my attempts to be the best. I learned to get up and move on. That's the beauty of being in the 'fourth'. You're still not there, but you know you're close.

Knowing there's a chance you'll even fail teaches you to remain humble. But there's still a reason to celebrate. If you turn your back, you'll realize you progressed from being the fifth, sixth, and so on. You're still a winner.

Fourth - that beautiful 'distance in between'. Just like this piece, my pledge won't be complete without it.

Mom was right all along.

Thirds and Threes

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Third painting, third day on my twelve day pledge. My little man stayed a little longer on his belly-time the third time around today. He didn't like it as much. In fact, he dread those times.
It's a lot of work for a little guy.

If you're doing yoga, that's close to staying in 'down dog' position for the entire half an hour. That's one heck of a work-out. So, I give him a ton of credits every time he tries to stay longer. He gets more cuddling time and smooches from me. Oh, he loves that.

He loves art too. The first day we brought him home from the hospital, he just stared and stared in the huge painting in our living room. And whenever he's cranky, facing him in front of one of my paintings around the house (or any art wherever we are) will sure calm him down. Amazing.

There's no guessing where he got that from. Not surprising to most as I'm an artist, but I'm still perplexed how a three-day old infant back then can appreciate art so much. Perhaps I was one of those 'adults' who underestimated their wits because of their size.

I can tell he liked this piece today. He voted his approval by squinting his bright eyes and wrinkling his nose bridge all at the same time, when I showed it to him.

A leap year, another painting and a baby. Today's significant 'threes'. But only the third will constantly remain to matter the most. At least for me.

Second Tulip

Click on photo to buy this painting.
Acrylic on acid-free & archival heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork, $42.

Second day on my pledge, second painting. I love the contrast of the pinks against the blue background. Subtle yet powerful.

A Dozen Pledge

Click on Photo to Buy this Painting.

'First Tulip' ACEO. Acrylic on heavyweight fine art paper, 2.5 x 3.5 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork. Price $42.

Starting today and in the next twelve days, I'll paint one artwork daily with one theme. No excuses. And what better way to celebrate the coming spring? Paint the season's most popular flora - tulips.

A tulip a day. Twelve paintings in twelve days. A dozen pledge. Another journey.

Are you ready to take the 'pledge'?

An Apple and a Brush

Click on Photo to Buy this Painting.
Watercolor on cold press 140lb Montval watercolor paper, 6 x9 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork. Price $90.

Two interesting subjects but an unlikely combination. Why together?

The apple. One of the most beloved fruit. The symbol of man's first reproduction. An easy meal replacement or snack which is also conveniently nutritious. 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away' won't be a popular phrase for no reason. It's pleasant to look at and boasts the prettiest primary color - red. For centuries, this succulent fruit has been the popular subject of still life paintings. The fine art masters painted it incessantly.

Which brings me to the brush. What will be a palette and a paint without it? Unless you're a finger painter, this bristly tool is indispensable. It's art's most esteemed metaphor. Museums and collectors have prided themselves not by just procuring and displaying works of art but with historic finds of antique brushes used by the masters.

So this is not 'just' a still life painting. It's a toast to two of life's greatest symbolic creations. One by God, the other by Man. Two incomparable beings brought together.

Just like my apple and my brush.

Peeling Bananas

Click on Photo to Buy this Painting.
Watercolor on cold press 140lb Montval watercolor paper, 6 x9 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork. Price $90.

It's evening, I know. I missed writing this morning. We had a busy weekend. Ever since I became a mom, my outlook calendar has been filling up to the brim.

It's because our little man is taking his own spots from our hourly schedules. From doctor's appointments, wellness classes, visiting families and friends, to play dates. I can go on and on. Merging those with your pre-parenthood schedule (that's already so tight to begin with) is an art of its own. I think that's why God made moms young (or young at heart like me).

It gets trying at times. And it puts your prioritizing skills to the test. On occasions when it gets tougher, I let out a big sigh and tell myself 'This too shall pass'. We have to take each day one at a time. Then, we'll get through it and still enjoy the journeys in between.

While painting this piece, I realized those trying times are like peeling bananas. You can't peel the skins off altogether. You have to do it one at a time, then enjoy the 'fruits' of your efforts after.

I say, be creative. Don't just eat the fruit, make it into a bread, pudding or parfait.

Savor the sweet rewards of your hard work. Give yourself a pat on the back (or side, if you can't reach your back) and acknowledge that you have done a great job.

You may have not peeled your bananas perfectly, but it was just right.

Pineapple

Click on Photo to Buy this Painting.
Watercolor on cold press 140lb Montval watercolor paper, 6 x9 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork. Price $90.

The icon of the tropics. It melts the winter blues away just looking at it. I bet whoever discovered this edible fruit long time ago, was very adventurous.

Who would think that inside the rough surface and spiky leaves is a sweet, tangy, slightly sour (when it's not overripe), juicy and fibrous meat. That's a lot of adjectives for one fruit. And don't forget the vitamins and cancer-fighting agents you get too. And again, the dietary fiber that is so good for you. I can almost hear my mom saying 'Eat your fiber.'

We ought to be more like that person who discovered it. Be more adventurous, look beyond the surface, love and appreciate others more despite their rough surfaces and spiky characters. Be a little more forgiving.

I can't wait to slice it and divulge on its sweetness. But first, let me paint it.

Multi-Asking

I'm trying to think if I know someone who isn't doing multiple tasks at the same time. Trying harder. Nope, can't think of anyone. Even babies are tasked to do a lot. Try giving a four month old his tummy time and urge him to scoot few more inches each time.

It's a serious hard work. Really, put yourselves in their shoes (or their socks I should say, they barely keep their crib shoes on) and imagine mountain climbing over and over again. That's how I think they must feel if you figure out the proportion of their growing body weight vis-a-vis their velocity goals. Pardon me but I'm an accountant, my reasoning most of the times revolve around numbers.

Multitasking. Writing it already makes me feel little pooped. Just a little. Whoever came up with the word must had a background in numbers too. Break down the word in two - multi plus tasking, equals multitasking. Then there's the root word - task plus suffix 'ing', equals tasking. See, what I mean. The word itself is multitasking, a singular verb representing more than one noun.

I believe the word was supposed to be Multi-Asking. Think about it, the extent of the things we have to do every single day depend on how much expectations we ask from ourselves. Or allow others to ask from us. And the new millennium is asking that we do most of it at the shortest possible time.

Multi-asking, that should have been the right word. But it would sound funny, it needs that consonant in between to make it sound right. It would have been nice to have the 'hyphen' (or dash) as a 'break' in between the two words. It sounds a little more playful.

Break and play. If you're going to add more from your 'to-do' lists, make sure you squeeze those in. Do yoga, make funny jokes or tickle someone. Find a breathing room, even if it means just closing your eyes for a minute or two. As simple as that.

Then, you'll be more than ready to tackle the 'multiples' in your lives.

Still Life

Click on Photo to Buy this Painting.
Watercolor on cold press 140lb Montval watercolor paper, 6 x9 in.
Watermark not present on original artwork. Price $90.

Can life really stand still, I wonder.

Even if we resist to move or compelled to be stationary, our life moves with every breath we make. Time passes with every brush stroke.

But how about those destined to be inanimate like my still life subjects. They may be still (for now, before I or my husband take them for a bite) but they give life to my painting.

Thus, the name 'still life'.

That makes sense.