July 31, 2015
July 29, 2015
|This is the 4' x 6' canvas that [in my dreams!] will eventually [will I live that long?] hold the Barrie Polar Bear Club Swimmers - New Year's Day .|
|First sketch - once I get a decent sketch [if ever?!] I will do some small paintings before attempting the big one.|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 3:50 p.m.
July 27, 2015
|This morning's drawing/copying exercise - I don't remember the name of the artist who did this black and white drawing but I love her work.|
|I keep my art books piled against the wall of my studio - a great solution when you have too many books for your bookshelves!|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 1:30 p.m.
July 25, 2015
|Up early this morning trying to sketch Mary Beth McKenzie [.com] preparing to attempt to copy her self portrait ....|
|and a quick sketch of Josie and Simon facing off while watching a Delecroix video and taking notes.|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 1:12 p.m.
July 24, 2015
July 23, 2015
July 22, 2015
July 19, 2015
Posted by Betty Bishop at 3:07 p.m.
July 15, 2015
|You may have seen this before. I did it some time ago but have never liked it and didn't know what was wrong with it. Last week I had lunch with this friend and realized I had painted her with a square head!|
|Back on the easel she goes ....|
|Still lots to do but at least her head isn't square now!|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 11:57 a.m.
July 08, 2015
July 07, 2015
July 05, 2015
July 04, 2015
June 27, 2015
June 24, 2015
June 20, 2015
June 18, 2015
June 17, 2015
|Can you see the little ducklings? I believe they were born today. No mom in sight! Click on the picture for a close up.|
|She very carefully takes them for their first swim!|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 5:54 p.m.
June 15, 2015
June 13, 2015
In case you haven’t been here before let me tell you who I am -
I am an 81 year old reasonable healthy, reasonably happy woman. I live with my little, also old, dog who goes by “Josie”. She is a cocapoo [some spaniel, mostly poodle), almost 14 which makes her in her nineties. She doesn’t hear very well (except when the fridge door opens!) nor (according to the vet) see very well although she still runs like the wind from my apartment door to the elevator. She is having bladder problems and has to wear a diaper a good part of the time - never in public and always at night. She sleeps a lot but still finds time to draw interesting patterns with her food. Sometimes in her her bowl. Sometimes on the floor. You don’t believe me? Just wait and see!
I have 2 daughters in their sixties. Unfortunately we are estranged and I do not see them. I raised them alone and it often happens this way for mothers who raise their children (especially daughters I imagine) alone. There is no one else to blame. I also have 3 granddaughters and although we are in touch our relationships are difficult due to the break with my daughters as well as just the general neurosis embedded in all our genes.
I hadn’t thought of keeping a journal in my blog but this morning I wrote some memories of my grandmother that I may have changed my mind. I feel obligated to post in my blog but seldom do so. If I am working on a painting it is easy to make entries but otherwise I tend to forget it. Not that it matters as only a few people read my blog anyway. I rather like it that way. In any case I think I may start entering little memories to keep you entertained. So here is the first one - for Nellie English - my Grandmother who owned Green Gables at Wasaga Beach, drove a 35 Buick with a rumble seat and wintered in Florida for as long as I knew her!
|My painting of My Grandmother and I - thats me on the porch.|
The last time I saw my grandmother she had a 3 to 4 inch white hair growing out of her chin. Such an insult to such a meticulous woman. Thank god she was unaware of the monstrosity. She was in a hospital bed. Covered in white everything. Asleep. I put my hand on her leg and she gave me the filthiest look I have ever seen or ever will see. She thought I was her daughter! When she realized it was me her blue blue eyes shone “Oh, its you Betty!”. I can’t remember what we said or how we said it. I only knew we knew we loved each other.
Her daughter [my mother] sat in the corner of the room waiting for her mother to die. She was wearing her black dress - the same dress she wore to her funeral a week or so later. That particular church had a side pew for the closest relatives of the deceased so I had a good view of my mother. She sat in the pew looking sulky and put upon. I don’t remember her crying. Before the death she had been to Birks to have the jewelry appraised and arrangements had already been made to sell the house. She was worried and afraid - she had reason to believe her mother might have left her [the only child] out of her will. Good reason. Less than a month before my grandmother had asked me to come and visit her in her lovely village home. Almost as soon as I walked in the door she said “Betty, your mother is insane”!! I knew my mother was wicked but I don’t think I really knew what “insane” meant. I was an ignorant 26 or so year old.
Grandma went on to tell me this story. She had had a heart attack while in Florida, my mother went down to bring her home and put her to bed and try to keep her in bed. I wasn't speaking to my mother at this time so knew none of the details of the month or so grandma was, as she said, “trapped there”. It was when she was trapped there that she realized her only daughter and only child was insane. She told me how mom had tried to make her take more medicine than she needed - told her she wet the bed etc etc. As grandma said “I had a heart attack, not a stroke!” Eventually my grandmother managed to walk to a nearby pay telephone and call her nephew Harold who came on the pretence of a visit to grandma but knowing he would be taking her home. My mother asked him to bring Grandma’s very nice Chaise Lounge which he did [it became my mothers, of course!]. When he took it out of the trunk of his car my Grandmother said “Oh Harold, it is too bad you couldn’t have fit my house in the trunk - Helen has a place all picked out for it - right here on the corner of her lot!”.
She wasn’t home long when her doctor said she had to have her gall bladder removed. She called me to come and visit her a few weeks before she was to be operated on. I know now that she knew then she wouldn’t be returning home. She said she was going to change her will and what did I want? I only wanted her to be alive. On the bus going back to the city I remember wishing she had invited my kids and I to come and live with her. I didn’t think she would want us. It wouldn’t have worked and she probably knew that. Both of us were way too independent. I think she decided it was better to just go to the hospital and let herself die which is exactly what she did. While in that hospital room she got some of her own back. While I was there her daughter came to her bedside with some words. Grandma said “YOU …- you just rub my fucking leg!!!” I had never heard my grandmother say as much as “damn” in her life! My mother did rub her leg.
She was a charmer. My grandmother. She was wealthy and I asked her how she had made her money. I guess I was about 26 and I had the mumps and she came and stayed with me for a few days. I knew her husband was a child molester but had buried the knowledge. She always supported the old bastard. He sat in his rocking chair with silver dollars in his pocket in case some vulnerable child came along and he could pay them for a feel or look at their genitals. She built him his own house - I imagine so it was plain to everyone that she didn’t sleep in the same bed as the old reprobate.
Hey! I have written enough for today!
Posted by Betty Bishop at 12:19 p.m.
June 06, 2015
June 05, 2015
June 04, 2015
June 03, 2015
|Manet painted "Luncheon on the Grass" in 1862. It wasn't well accepted in Paris!|
|Some time ago I redrew it the way it might have been. It is on a piece of canvas 16 x 20. If it works I will somehow attach the piece of canvas to some kind of hangable backing.|
Posted by Betty Bishop at 11:55 a.m.
June 02, 2015
Posted by Betty Bishop at 7:03 p.m.
May 22, 2015
May 15, 2015
Posted by Betty Bishop at 9:16 a.m.
April 26, 2015
April 25, 2015
Posted by Betty Bishop at 11:03 a.m.