Back in September, my husband officiated the wedding of some sweet friends of ours. This was perhaps, aside from my own wedding, the loveliest wedding ever! It was held at the beautiful Dewberry Farm here in Kernersville.
This portrait is not intended to be a detailed description of the individual faces of the bride and groom, but rather a portrait of the sheer delight and happiness they each had for each other on that day! And when I see them on Sundays, that delight hasn’t paled at all!
I wish Will & Kelly many, many days of happiness to come!!
It is my delight and honor to be asked to paint a portrait of someone’s children. I can’t really describe why…something to do with the privilege of trying to express the personality of the kids coupled with the love the parent has for them. It seems a tall order. One that excites and energizes me! And one that causes fear and trepidation!
I learned something anew with this commission to paint the beautiful Summerell children, Robert and Catherine. I learned afresh that my calling is simply to show up at the blank page. To do whatever it takes to be there, facing the pristine 140 lb. Cold Press Saunders Waterford paper…and begin. I knew I would be given what I needed to accomplish the high calling of portrait painting. I knew that help, in the form of ideas and ways to solve “problems”, would show up when needed. I knew it would be ok. I just had to draw. And paint.
Now before you gag on such artsy fartsy lingo…i do acknowledge that I have studied and continue to study how to paint portraits. I do practice. Daily. I do continue to learn and evolve. I put in my time. But when it all comes down to it, when the commissioned portrait is about to begin, I have an overwhelming sense of being woefully inexperienced and inadequate to the task at hand! I simply must rely on the truth that my part is to just SHOW UP. Of course, I will apply all that I have learned and am learning to the task. Of course, I will wrestle with, undo and redo what I feel is necessary. But the one thing I am responsible for is to be faithful to show up to the page. Whatever else happens feels a bit like magic…something out of my hands, outside of my ability or experience level.
And when the parents view the portraits and are pleased…When the mom has tears in her eyes…I know I have done my work and it has been somehow translated beyond my own contribution to the page. Art has happened. That inexplicable, wonderful communication between the paint and paper to the viewer.
My delight becomes their delight! And I couldn’t be more delighted.
**To view more commissioned portraits, click here!
To attempt to paint a portrait of Mr. Leo Whicker, born September 3, 1927, is like trying to harness (with paint and paper) the wisdom of years and experience, coupled with an effortless joy that is surely hard-won through life’s ups and downs. I have had the privilege of getting to know Mr. Whicker through numerous conversations with him over the past 8 years. I think I could write a book about him. Here are a few things I have learned:
The land on which he lives and farms (and which is directly next door to my house and neighborhood), was his grandfather’s land. At some point, his grandfather sold the land to send a son to law school. And then, at some point after that, Mr. Whicker (pictured above) bought the land back. This land encompasses acres and acres and is sprawled in many directions throughout the southern part of Kernersville, in an area known as Sedge Garden.
Mr. Whicker and his wife Martha, had a son and daughter. Up the hill from where I live, is a small house (now a rental home) where he and his family started out. As the children grew, he built a larger home for them just yards away, perched on a small rise in the land. You can see the house here in the charcoal, just a bit of the porch, complete with rocking chairs.
Mr. Whicker’s wife Martha died young, of cancer. When he speaks of her, you can hear a love and affection for her that leaves you aching and thinking he must still ache and miss his dear wife. Both his son and daughter live in Kernersville and have families of their own. Mr. Whicker is blessed with grandchildren and extended family who live in the area.
In fact, as I’ve been able to gather from Mrs. Gail Smith Love, another neighbor whom I’ve had the privilege of getting to know, Mr. Whicker is considered an Uncle to many from the Smith clan. She recounts that growing up with Smith land and farms right next to Whicker land, the two families’ children all called the other dads “Uncle”. So he was Uncle Leo to her and many others.
Mr. Whicker has memories of his grandmother telling him that soldiers used to hide out in caves on their land during the Civil War. I have a feeling if I could sit for a while with him, I’d hear many stories of historical interest that are tucked away in Mr. Whicker’s vibrant mind.
Mr. Whicker has many barns beside his home. The barn you see here, and in the above charcoal, can be seen from the road, Silver Dapple Lane. It stores his baled hay on one side, and keeps farm equipment on the other. You can see a glimpse into the back side of this particular barn in the above portrait of him. Sitting atop the tractors and equipment are various, huge stuffed animals, such as Kermit the Frog (seen above) and Scooby Doo. These are here, says Mr. Whicker, to chase away the birds. Apparently, birds have a bad habit of nesting in the tractor’s engines. And when he goes to start one of these tractors, the poor birds are lost, and they can cause damage to the equipment. I wish you could’ve seen the twinkle in his eye as he explained why he had these unexpected furry friends in the barn!
That twinkle in his eye is rooted in his faith. Leo Whicker is a faithful congregant at Sedge Garden Chapel, just a stone’s throw from his home and farm. He is, and I suspect has been for most of his life, devoted to worshipping his Creator with the folks in this small and humble church. Hardly a conversation goes by without him asking me to pray for something on his mind, after inquiring how my husband and children are doing.
There is so much more I could write here. The description in this post is merely the tip of the iceberg. Talking with Mr. Whicker (as with other persons of mature years), makes me think I’m in the presence of a stately oak tree. That tree has seen many years, all kinds of weather, lots of history. It has withstood storms, change, seasons, “progress”. It has been rooted in something far more enduring than this world, and its roots are deep and far-reaching. At first you may only see a trunk and its weathered bark. But as you get to know the tree, the expanse of the branches and canopy, the gnarled sections leading out to youthful buds and leaves, you realize there is something grand going on here which is very difficult to describe, much less to paint.
Mr. Whicker would never think of himself in this grand manner. He was indeed a bit reticent about having his picture taken so that I could create a portrait (or two) of him. I just feel that his story needs to be remembered, and that his family would enjoy a painted portrait.
Last Monday, September 3rd, I was walking in my neighborhood, up near The Field, and I was stopped by my friend and neighbor, Mr. Leo Whicker.
“Jennifah”, he said in his lovely southern accent, “you won’t believe what just happened! You know I love donkeys, right?”
“Well, yes sir, I do remember that! How many do you have now?” I replied.
“Well, I had four, and one of them I have over at my son’s place. He just now called me to tell me that the donkey has given birth! And today is my birthday! I’m 85 years old today!” he said as his eyes danced like a young boy who had just been to the candy store.
We talked for a bit longer about this treat he had received on his birthday and I walked home to grab my camera.
You see, for some time now, I’ve wanted to paint Mr. Whicker’s portrait. This is actually one of two portraits of him I am working on. I knew he was in his 80′s, but didn’t know his exact age. You would never be able to tell by his appearance or how vigorously he works his farms. Yes, I said FARMS, plural. He has at least three different parcels of land on which he raises his cows. But I’ll tell you more about that when I post the next portrait of him.
I loved working from my photo of him with his wonderful smile! I have only slightly exaggerated the blue of his eyes, which truly twinkle when he smiles. To be 85 years old and still finding such delight in life is indeed remarkable.
I can see!!!! Really! I got a new pair of glasses last week, and I can see so much I couldn’t before!! This is my first pair of “progressive lenses”.
Hmmm… Progressive? Well, if growing older means I’m progressing, then so be it! It took a couple of days before the fishbowl feel went away, but now I can see clear as a bell far away, mid-distances, AND up close!! That last one is the key, since for over a year now, I’ve been playing the on-again-off-again game with my glasses. Or peering over or under them to see something up close. Now I’m trying to break that habit!! Because I can see perfectly well from the bottom portion of my new glasses!
Oh, and I looovee the style too! They are red, rectangular, and have a lovely scrollwork along the sides which you can’t see here. Perhaps I’ll paint a profile portrait so you can see the ivy scrollwork. And the VERY BEST part of it is that the frames cost me ONLY $40!! Can you believe it?? Here in K’Vegas, we have a place called the Eyeglass Supermart where all designer frames are $40, with the exception of a few that are $80. Mine were the first pair I tried on and came back to after trying on many others. They were my favorites! If you’re a local, be sure to check out the Eyeglass Supermart at Kernersville Eye Associates. Bill West, the optometrist, and his wife Patty will fix you up right! I got my eyes checked and everything there for a very reasonable price! You don’t have to have your eyes checked there…you can just bring in your prescription and they will take care of it from there!
Persons of mature age seem to embody a single-pointed purpose. I often wonder if I will be that way in 30 years. My life now seems so fractured into a zillion purposes: parenting my three kids, nurturing a good marriage, teaching and working, caring for my Type 1 daughter, being available to family and friends, and the ever-elusive desire to pursue an art career.
The widowed women I have known, seem to stand, however feebly, with a solidity that perhaps only the years of living so many different lives has afforded them. Each white-haired woman has been a child, a teenager, a young adult, a newlywed, a mother, a career woman, and then a widow. They have served the people in their lives with huge generosity of heart, with ache and concern for others’ well-being, and with dignity in the small things.
Fè Arasmo, born March 20, 1924, was just such a woman. I met her in her final years when, before her first stroke, she crafted beautiful beaded necklaces for every woman in our church. She just gave them to us. She lived with her loving daughter, Helen, and found ways to light up the lives of every one she met. Her infectious smile, her lovely Filipino accent, her laughter…all belied her small stature and left you with a sense of largesse and joie-de-vivre.
How she continued to live her last year with that beautiful smile, I do not know. She fought to regain strength and mobility after the first stroke, only to have another one, as well as other health issues, land her in the hospital numerous times. I cannot imagine what it must be like to have your mind as spry and quick as ever, yet not be able to tell your body to get up and walk.
But the day came, on July 20, 2012, when Someone came to her and said, “Talitha koum…dear little one, get up and walk.” And so she got up and walked out of this life into the next… happy, whole, bright, and probably not just walking. The twinkle I often saw in her eye suggested to me that she probably skipped and twirled when no one was looking. And so I imagine her leaving in this way.
I have a feeling that if Fè could whisper something to me from the other side of the Veil, she might tell me: “Jen, it’s not about the art exactly. It’s about the Faces of all you see, all whom you come into contact with, all the loved ones, the friends, the people who live and work and leave this world.”
And so, with this in mind, I’m wanting to return to my 100 Portraits Project, which only made it to #12 I think. It may only go on for another 12. So be it. This seems to be how my “art career” unfolds: with fits and starts, with courses altered, plans redirected. Mine is not so single-pointed as I imagine these women of mature years to have.
Perhaps this single-pointed purpose…hard-won as husband and loved ones have passed away and left them outside the mothering years, the marriage years, the youth years…perhaps the thing to which they signal for us is that one day, we too will have a Hand stretch out to us, beckoning us to “get up and walk” out of this life. How do I live this now? Am I able to have this single-pointed purpose now at age 47? Is it only possible in the years following the stripping away of all we have held dear?
I do not have the answers for this. I don’t really need to. I just need to live today. And to peer into the faces of others to see glimpses of the Face I will one day see face-to-face…alongside Fè Arasmo, a dear lady, friend, mother, and teacher, who is skipping and twirling right now.
There are times when friends endure such suffering, that the only thing I feel I can do, is draw…draw something for them to ultimately receive, but also something for me to process my own grief and compassion. I don’t really know how to tell you the full story of this not-even-two-year-old girl, named Kate, who sometime in May, came down with a regular ole ear infection which led to something far worse within a few short weeks. The good folks at Brenner’s Children’s Hospital tried many many things to pin point what was going wrong, as this little dear continued to worsen, her body showing the ravages of whatever disease had hold of her. Eventually they were able to diagnose it as a rare form of a very rare disease. I will not go into all that she has endured. Suffice it to say, her sweet little body was taken to places none of us would ever want, wish, or entertain for even our worst enemies. Unimaginable.
Unbelievable…she has just recently come home from her summer in the hospital. She still needs a lot of care, but is on the improvement end of the continuum. These friends of mine have walked and are walking a path of suffering that few of us have endured and which breaks my heart to see. I want to make it all better, and I cannot. I want to help, but most times those efforts seem to fall flat. The ONE THING I can do, is uphold this family in prayer and plead for mercy on their behalf.
C.S. Lewis, the author of the beloved Narnia Chronicles, wrote stories surrounding the relationship between children and a great lion, named Aslan, a Christ-like character. These books have been favorites of this family for many years. Throughout the summer, I kept thinking of this precious girl in the arms of the great Lion Aslan. There is a point in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe where Lucy asks the beavers what Aslan is like. She asks, “Is he safe?” To which the beavers reply, ” ‘Course he isn’t safe, but he is good. He’s the king, I tell you.” That phrase is both theologically rich AND confounding. Only a family who is clinging to their Heavenly Father as they watch their little girl grow more and more sick, have any inkling what this phrase might mean. No, he is not safe….but HE IS GOOD!
These parents do not only affirm this to be true now that their little girl is home from the hospital and is improving. They affirmed this to be true even in the midst of huge unknowns as to what was ravaging their daughter’s health and whether or not there was any help for it. Their affirmation was not made with a plastic smile on their faces…but rather with tears, questions, uncertainties, yet with an underlying assurance that He who brought them to that place of suffering was indeed WITH THEM and was GOOD. Not THEIR definition of good…but they were willing to humble themselves to Aslan’s idea of good, no matter what that might mean.
From an artistic standpoint, my aim was to make a portrait of Kate with Aslan in such a way that the two were one. I like how their fur/hair (which she doesn’t have right now, but will one day!) emulate each other and blend together. I like how the relaxed lion’s claws are still seen, but neither put away nor flexed (a hint at the whole idea of him not being safe). I wanted her expression to be one of utter joy and comfort in his arms. I wanted the lion’s eyes to be both strong yet compassionate.
She is indeed Aslan’s Girl…He will never leave her nor forsake her. He is healing her and restoring joy to this family in doing so. In this I rejoice.
I felt like “the little engine who couldn’t” as I painted this…I kept thinking: I don’t think I can do this! I don’t think I can do this! But looking at it now, I think I did! It’s a weird thing to explain to someone that you really haven’t the foggiest notion how to go about a particular painting. You have some vague notions about shape and value, but it really isn’t until you put paint to paper that you begin responding intuitively to what’s happening and somehow it begins to fall into place. Not always…but sometimes. And when that happens=oi! what a feelin’!
The drawing part gave me fits! The angle of her face, plus the downward gazing eyes, the shadows from the hair, and the overall high-key feel to painting a blond. This is my oldest daughter’s best friend who came over to help Catherine get ready for prom. I painted this on the “good” stuff…the 140 lb. Saunders Waterford and I loved working on it this time! I concentrated on laying down the color and not noodling it to death. I’ll give it several more tries and then switch over to say, Arches, or Fabriano, just to get a feel for all these different papers. If you are a watercolor painter…let me know what paper is YOUR favorite to paint on and why.
Wanna know what brush I’m using? Well, for many, many years I used Cheap Joe’s Starving Artist brushes, rounds in sizes 10 and 12 for all the sketchbook work and even some of the big paintings. A few months back I purchased the same size brushes in Leow Cornell’s #7020 Series Ultra Round brush recommended by Laurelines some months back. It has taken some adjustment, but I’m loving these brushes! I used the size 12 throughout this 10″ x 11″ painting. I’m learning to use the shape of the brush in different ways as I paint. I’ve always wanted to own those cadillac sable brushes that all my favorite transparent watercolor heros use (Charles Reid, Eric Weigardt, Janet Rogers…), but have never been able to quite bring myself to spend the $100+ dollars on one of them. I’m quite happy with these Leow Cornell brushes. Perhaps if I ever tried the real sable brushes, I’d know what I was missing…but ignorance is bliss in this case and I’m happily painting with much cheaper brushes!
Happy painting to everyone and thanks again for sharing the portrait journey with me!
