It was one of those days. So, to make myself feel better, I uploaded a watercolor I did a few months ago. See the original photo here.
My friend who has graduated from my stage in life (her youngest is twenty-years old, and she has 5 daughters) said she remembers when her kids were younger: if she was working, she felt like she should be with her kids. If she was with her kids, she felt should be working.
Today, when I had the opportunity to do some artwork, I felt I should be working. And when I went back to working, I wished I could spend more time doing artwork. And I’m with my kids… my mind is on art, work, blogging…My daughter is calling me now…
Here’s a drawing I did for a post I am planning. The post is going to be about getting kids to eat healthy. Or about giving up trying. Probably both. See “Broccoli for dessert“…
my latest watercolor
Links:
Books I read recently:
Books my husband just gave me for my birthday and so I intend to read:
I was telling Jill this past week if you find yourself drawn to reading about the Holocaust and want to read something perhaps a bit more uplifting or at least great literature, read anything by Aharon Appelfeld.
My mother, z”l (zichrona l’bracha, may her memory be a blessing), called it ‘the Big C.’ She couldn’t say its real name, Cancer. That would be too much of an admission of its arrival, of the arrival of this dreaded, unwelcome guest. My mother was diagnosed with colon cancer soon after my wedding. The early years of my marriage and of my sons’ babyhoods were marked by worry about how was she doing, how much longer would she be with us, could we do anything at all to reverse the decree, as it felt to us. The doctor gave her less than two years to live; she lived for more than five. Part of her longer survival might have been due to the force of the chemotherapy. My father’s care for her helped, too. A large part was her own desire to live just a bit longer, to see a few more grandchildren born, to dance at a few more simchas.
Unfortunately, I have been impacted by cancer much of my life. In 4th grade, a dear boy in my class died of this disease. Would I get a lump on my leg, too? I used to think. Every ache and pain for the next few years scared me. There was a little girl whose family had come all the way from Israel to the Boston area so she could be treated for cancer. The little girl lived a few more years, but then she too succumbed. As the years rolled passed, I learned of adults who had died of cancer. A friend’s aunt. A friend’s father. An aunt in Israel.
In my twenties, a friend’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember how warm a woman she was. I loved going to her home on Shabbat, the table spread with delicacies, and her warm smile making me feel welcome. Once, I went with my friend and her family on a hike in Maine. Out in the woods, we cooked hot dogs over an open fire. I remember her mother said: “I never ate these before I was diagnosed. I always avoided food like this (hot dogs). But now, what does it matter.” What a sad, sad day it was when we attended her funeral.
Years later, my friend would blame fat. “My mother made everything with fat, fat, fat,” she would say. What kind of fat wasn’t clear. One can only guess (saturated animal fat at the main course, with hydrogenated fat for dessert? With some rancid, overcooked oils thrown in anywhere?) Her father, too, would be stricken; about a year or two before my mother died, her father died of prostate cancer.
How I got stuck on the cancer and nutrition link and continue to follow this issue is a subject for another post. I can only write so much on this topic without feeling emotionally drained.
But I will say this: remember how my friend’s mother never ate hot dogs before she got sick? I gradually came to the opposite conclusion. Giving up hot dogs wasn’t merely enough. The food pyramid that we are taught about nutrition isn’t enough. There’s a lot to know about nutrition, and all our bodies are different.
In memory of my dear mother, here are some of her paintings.
Introduction: Jill Caporlingua teaches art in Highland Park. Welcome, Jill!
I’ve often wondered what drives people to create. Maybe it’s different for me because art is my profession and such an integral part of who I am, so I can’t even imagine not doing art. Still I wonder, what makes my students and others who aren’t creating art as their livelihood feel the urge? Is it for relaxation? Recreation? A form of therapy? A way to communicate with others or express feelings and ideas? I’d be happy to hear anyone’s comments on this topic…
I’ve heard some artists say they believe it should ONLY be for a certain “higher” purpose. Some grand quest for knowledge or to express a political or social message they deem worthy.
Well, this is my blog and I have to say: I disagree whole-heartedly! I think art should be accessible to everyone and can benefit anyone, for whatever reason they are driven to create. Throughout history, it has not just been Michelangelo and Picasso who have something to say. Art can enrich the life and spirit of all of us. Look at the drawings on caves from thousands of years ago, the amazing so-called primitive art, naive art, folk art, and outsider art. These are art forms born from artists without any formal training, and I highly recommend looking them up. The work is incredibly inspiring.
Of course, as an art teacher, I believe there are great benefits to learning technique, but that’s a blog for another day. Until then, for whatever reasons drive you, and whatever your medium: keep creating!
My favorite section of my website is called Pics of the Month. My intention is to put up new art, photos, Flash bits every month. OK, maybe I should call it Pics of Every Two or Three Months. But that would be a weird title. I captured some beautiful fall leaves recently; I intend to put them up soon. Yesterday, the weather looked pretty bleak out there, all the fall leaves had turned brown and bunched in a corner, whatever snow fell soon turned into a wet crunchy crust on the sidewalk. I see in Boston it snowed yesterday. We had a lot of very wet sleet here in Jersey.
Getting back to the pics…I haven’t had much time to do canvas or paper-based art lately. I’ve been busy with work (more about that in a different post) and designing this blog. I use Pics of the Month to build up my Flash skills, and I would like an alef-bet Flash movie to appear there soon. My daughter has been rather alef-bet challenged, meaning she can’t understand why in the world she should learn those funny characters we keep drawing for her on pieces of scrap paper. For a treat, here is one of my fall photos (look for diagonals and movement— are those two trees talking to each other? One is mine, and one is my neighbor’s):
