About Rain, Crystals, and Friends

Yesterday brought just enough light to work on my Southern Colours project after several days of dark clouds and heavy rain here in parched Georgia. Meanwhile, my favorite activity has been stomping through puddles, barefoot, on the way to and from picking up the morning paper at the end of the driveway. It was dark and none of my neighbors were awake to see me, although I'm not sure that would have mattered. A two-year exceptional drought has a way of making one appreciate rain. I will never again complain about a rainy day.

In any event, when the sun peeped through briefly, I hurried to the sun porch where my art supplies reside. A stray thought just crossed my mind: Why does no one ever call it a rain porch?

The crystals have been calling me so that's where I began. Anyone who has looked closely at a crystal knows they are both clear and many-colored – quite a challenge to capture on paper with sticks of dry pigment. I'm not sure that I'm finished but my artist friends will be glad to jump in and tell me if I need to make changes. That's what friends are for.

All of us need friends who are brave enough to tell us where we are going astray and suggest what we need to do about it. Compliments go only half way. That applies to life and not just art. A real friend is one who has the courage to tell us what we would sometimes prefer to not hear. It's called truth. If you have such friends, never let them go. If you don’t have one, find one. If you aren't one, be one.

How to create a brand new recipe

This is the plum torte I made yesterday. It is nothing like the original recipe.

My friend, Camilla, sent me a recipe for Plum Cake. Since Camilla is a wonderful cook, I always pay attention when she sends me something. I made the cake and it was wonderful – just like the plum tortes found in German bakeries. I'd never used plums in baking before and I was hooked. My family loved it. We had plum cake as long as plums were in season that summer.

Another year rolled around, the plums were beautiful, and I made another plum cake. It was nothing like the original. It was tall and fluffy and the plums sank down into the batter. I called Camilla and she said, "But that's how it is supposed to be." Rats! We didn't want tall and fluffy; we wanted dense and crusty. We yearned for the old plum cake.

My left brain began exploring how this could be happening. What had changed? It was an aha! moment. I had purchased new baking powder and I might have used different flour. What to do? I had to make that cake thinner and more dense somehow.

I set out to recreate the plum cake we knew and loved and, in the process, created a brand new recipe. To heck with calling it Plum Cake. It's my recipe now and I call it Plum Torte. Try it. You'll think you've been to a German bakery. You, too, Camilla.

PLUM TORTE

1 cup un-sifted bread flour
½ tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. salt
½ cup unsalted butter, softened
¾ cup sugar + 3 tbsp. sugar for topping
2 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
4 or 5 ripe plums, cut into ½ inch thick slices

Preheat oven to 350. Grease & flour a 9-inch springform pan. Mix dry ingredients. Beat butter and ¾ cup sugar until fluffy. Beat in eggs & vanilla. Stir in flour mixture (with a spoon). Spread batter in pan. Starting at edge, arrange plums in circular fashion. Top with 3 tbsp. sugar. Bake 50-55 minutes or until done. Let cool 10 minutes. Remove sides of pan. Serve with whipped cream (or not).

A Southern Colours Project - 4

After spending most of last week helping my artist friend, Sally Arnold, create a Southern Colours blog, I'm finally back to working on my painting. I've missed it.

It is amazing what one can see when one really looks. Artists are taught to squint and open up our minds to seeing shapes and colors instead of a "lamp," or "clock," or "person." Once you get it, the world never looks the same. Shapes and colors are everywhere.

Painting this brass candlestick lamp made me realize, once again, that brass isn't just gold and brown. Look at the blues, oranges, pinks, and dark reds I've found. Although I've had it for many years, I didn't realize my lamp has feet with toes until I looked at it from an artist's point of view. Surprise! The artist's world is an amazing kaleidoscope that sometimes takes my breath away.

Tomorrow I hope to begin painting the crystals. I can hardly wait to see what shapes and colors I will find. Meanwhile, I will probably find myself squinting to find abstract shapes in the mop water while I catch up on the housework I've been neglecting.

I mentioned the Southern Colours blog. It's finished and ready for the world see. Give yourself a treat and take a look at all of the wonderful art that happens every Friday in Lilburn, Georgia.

VISIT SOUTHERN COLOURS

Meet My Friend, Marie. . .

This is my friend, Marie, with her first watercolor painting. I met Marie last winter when she and her parents moved next door. Carl and I hosted a going-away party for our former neighbors combined with a welcome party for our new neighbors.

Marie and her parents expressed an interest in my art so I took them on a tour. Before the evening was over, Marie told me she wants to be an artist when she grows up and I said perhaps we could have an art lesson this summer.

While talking casually in our driveway awhile back, Marie disappeared and returned with a picture she had drawn and colored. We scheduled our art lesson for later that week.

The big day arrived. I selected Marie's Watercolor Pigment for our lesson. Marie and I talked about the importance of painting what you love. She loves flowers and butterflies. We chose flowers from the garden and put them in a blue vase. We talked about squinting and drawing shapes and Marie followed along perfectly, even drawing the "ears" on the vase. It was a perfect hour except that we forgot the butterfly so Marie painted a butterfly while she was on vacation and presented it to me afterward. It is proudly installed on our kitchen counter. Another vacation brought a special gift from Marie and her brother, Duane – real B.B. King Barbecue Sauce that is made only in Memphis. We're having it tonight on barbecued chicken.

Marie and her family have given me a great gift - the gift of friendship. I do believe Marie will be an artist when she grows up.

Doing What is Right

Although I am not a Catholic, I was hugged by a priest this morning and it felt wonderful.

My day hasn't gone as planned. I finished my morning coffee, read the newspaper, and was checking my e-mail when I opened a notice from the editor of our neighborhood newsletter. It stated that a former neighbor, John McNalley, had died. It was 9:40 a.m. and the funeral was at 10:30.

I didn't know John McNalley very well. I met his wife, Ann, when she joined Southern Colours shortly after Father Paddy gave his permission for us to paint at St. Stephen on Fridays. He asked us to invite members of their church who might be interested. The only person interested was Ann McNalley. Ann and I subsequently discovered that we live in the same neighborhood. She was part of Southern Colours for a short time and then she gave it up.

The McNalleys sold their home last fall and moved into an assisted living facility. We hadn't talked for a while until Ann called me for advice concerning the art supplies she would no longer have room for. She wanted to donate them to a worthy cause.

Many thoughts went through my mind as I sat there reading about Ann's husband; age 85, a graduate of the University of South Carolina and Georgia Tech, a gunnery officer in the Navy during WWII, married to Ann since 1949, five children, many grandchildren, and founder of a Catholic church. Ann had just lost her husband of 59 years.

My first thought was that I really should go to the funeral. My second thought was that I didn't have time to get ready. My hair was a mess and I hadn't showered. My third thought was that Ann wouldn't care what I looked like. My fourth thought was that I hope none of my friends will miss my funeral for such superficial reasons.

I raced upstairs, threw on a decent outfit, went to John's funeral, gave Ann a hug, and met their children. And then Father Paddy gave me a hug. It felt just like the hug I would have gotten from my parents if they were here to see that, this morning, I did what they taught me to do. They taught me that there are times when we should do what is right rather than what is convenient. It felt wonderful.

A Southern Colours Project - 3

Every Friday is a Southern Colours day. We gather from 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. to paint together, share related art news, exciting new techniques, what's going on with local shows, who has won awards, and check out everyone else's work, usually beginning with a line-up of works-in-progress offered for critique. My painting isn't quite ready for a critique since so many parts of it haven't progressed beyond the block-in stage. That doesn't mean that several of my cohorts didn't wander past and offer helpful comments. It's part of what makes Southern Colours so special.

I worked on the base of the lamp all morning. Those of you who are not artists might wonder how it is possible to spend an entire morning painting a lamp base that's approximately 12 inches tall and 2 inches wide. I have done entire paintings in less time but I have chosen a difficult subject in this case. I don't want it to look like a photgraph but it has to be rendered correctly and therein lies the challenge. Refine, refine, refine, and refine again until nothing looks obviously wrong.

I think I'm at the point where one more session will finish the lamp base. Notice that I have done a tiny bit of work on the first crystal. We've had a temperature drop. It will be 85 to 90 degrees rather than 95 to 98 degrees during the day. Now I have to decide between working on this painting tomorrow and attacking the weeds that are thriving in the garden while all of our desirable plants curl up and die.

Meanwhile, it's Sunday and my family is hoping I'll make a dessert to go along with our traditional Sunday dinner. I'm thinking it will be blueberry pie from the wonderful blueberries my friend, Faye, brought from her mother's Habersham County farm. Faye's mother, Clara, puts me to shame. She's gardening in the same 95 degree heat that I'm always complaining about and sharing her bounty with grateful hangers-on like me.

A Southern Colours Project - 2

It's 10:00 a.m. and already hot. I can see that refining my drawing of the lamp and, perhaps, adding a few darks will be the extent of this session.

One thing I immediately noticed when I began scrutinizing the lamp is that I, somehow, overlooked the correct angle of both the top of the piano where these two items are sitting and the linen scarf under the lamp and letters. I hope you didn't notice that floating clock! How could I leave something so obvious out of my drawing?

Although I've worked at producing a symmetrical drawing of all those rings and round shapes on the stem of the lamp, I can clearly see that it will need a lot more attention before it is correct. Painting this lamp may prove to be even more difficult than the clock. But it is hot, my eyes are sweating, and tomorrow is our regular Southern Colours painting session where I always get a lot of inspiration from my fellow artists - in an air conditioned room.

I've put a few more darks and another layer of red on the ribbon and that will be all for today. I can hardly wait to paint those crystals!

A Southern Colours Project

Unlike many of my artist friends, I do not have a studio where I can go and paint undisturbed. My studio is our sun porch, located on the western side of the house. Since this is August in Georgia, I paint in the mornings before the sun comes around the corner and raises the temperature to almost 100 degrees. In addition to that, I must banish Lily Pearl to the nether regions to prevent her from becoming a technicolor cat instead of her usual pristine white.

I've been working on our latest Southern Colours art project - creating a painting that includes 5 of 8 predetermined elements - metal, pepper, wine glass, pot, flower, fabric, seed pod, clock. I've decided to post my progress.

The clock is mostly finished at this point. It is an Ansonia more than 100 years old that Carl bought from a friend when we lived in Ohio. It is almost finished except for the hands. I can't decide what time it should be. Perhaps it will be the time I finally finish this painting. Or perhaps it will be a time that is significant to me. Or perhaps the hands will simply partially cover those numerals that gave me fits.

This morning made me wonder why in the world I chose a subject with so much detail and so many curves and circles. Have you ever tried to draw and paint a recessed circle within a circle? Especially one that is facing away from you and is not really a circle? I can only blame it on Bill Hosner, my most recent workshop teacher, whose advice is to always choose the harder subject when faced with a choice. I can safely say he would be proud of me.

I think I'll work on the lamp tomorrow. After all, this is a pastel and I must start at the top and work down in order to avoid ruining anything I might have completed at the bottom. Or I could turn the painting over and work upside down. We'll see.

ABOUT SALLIE ATKINS

• I am an artist, a writer, and a genealogist.

• I was born in Leon, West Virginia, have lived in Worthington, Ohio; Raleigh, North Carolina; and now reside in Lilburn, Georgia.

• My family consists of my husband, Carl; my son, Scott; my grandson, Greg; and our snow white, blue-eyed cat named Lily Pearl.

• My life's history includes a rewarding career with IBM that culminated in managing their Telecommunications Production Center in Raleigh, NC.

• I co-founded the Southern Colours Art Association after moving to Lilburn and am the president of the Southeastern Pastel Society. Check out both organizations at http://www.southerncolours.com/ and http://www.southeasternpastel.org/

• I established this blog to share my art, my writing, and my family history.