tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44784623922783110352024-03-13T12:54:32.246-07:00mary winklea designMary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-31307743752560680112017-07-31T15:26:00.002-07:002017-07-31T15:31:38.553-07:00Morning Walks and a Curious Squirrel Several months ago it dawned on me that with leaving for either my part time job at Macys (average start time 6:30 am) and/or being at the studio on my days off and/or after finishing my shift at my part time job, my only time out doors was spent walking to and from my car, to either work, studio or condo. Could that be why I was a bit grumpy and off center? Yes. So I decided to begin taking a morning walk on the days I was off from Macys.<br />
A few mile form my studio there is a beautiful park with lots of rolling hills and lovely eucalyptus trees. This became my walking place.<br />
Along with the rolling hills and trees this park also is home to a swimming pool, baseball fields, tennis courts, a frisbee golf course and the essential park amenities of picnic tables and bar-b-que cook areas. <br />
Mornings are generally quiet, and as I walk up and down the hills I fully enjoy the sights, scents and sounds of my journey. Runners run by. Walkers walk by. The gentle splish splash of Seniors as they exercise in the pool. People text and walk their dogs... or dogs walk their texting people. Kids in day camps play soccer. The squeak of tennis shoes on the court and the twang and the pop of rackets hitting tennis balls.<br />
Wild roses bloom in a tangle of native plants along a dirt path. And beautiful old eucalyptus trees reach to the sky, branches swaying fill the air with their pungent healing scent. Birds chirping and chittering and squirrels with fluffy tails twitching, race up and down the tree trunks...<br />
Now if this were a movie the last shot would be a close-up of a squirrel running in slow motion and the musical sound track would change from a lilting melody to a dark and somber dirge...Why?<br />
For those of you who follow me on Facebook you most likely saw my post last week about the power outage at my studio. Unable to stay and paint I came home and took advantage of the outage to begin writing this post. Little did I know that as I was writing about happy squirrels it was a poor curious squirrel who was the cause of the power outage that left 45,000 people without power.<br />
So I now dedicate this post all the dogs and cats and woodland critters who never were able to finish their journey across the road to see what was on the other side... and to all the birds and bees and flying insects whose fate it was to decorate the hood or windshield of the giant metal monsters roaming everywhere...and finally the innocent squirrel whose curiosity led him to a shocking end.<br />
Humans and Nature...each of our lives affects the other.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4cG2rpXlIA8/WXtgFB46pKI/AAAAAAAABDk/jYeZS8wNNnc6apiMIBD0C2XGLce_-EZAgCLcBGAs/s1600/winklea_mary_27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="1024" height="237" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4cG2rpXlIA8/WXtgFB46pKI/AAAAAAAABDk/jYeZS8wNNnc6apiMIBD0C2XGLce_-EZAgCLcBGAs/s400/winklea_mary_27.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning Walk/Oil on gessoed watercolor board 6"x10"/ 1999</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-15272189472017578902017-06-23T11:26:00.000-07:002017-08-10T22:31:41.888-07:00My How Time Flies...Quacks...Clucks and Meows... I tend to live in my own little bubble of a world where shopping and trends have not been given much breathing space which means I have not always been cognizant of what the latest "trend" might be. So back in the early 1980's on a rare visit to a local mall I happened to wander into a store filled with the scent of cinnamon and dried flowers, "potpourri" I was later to find out.<br />
All through the store there were display cases made from Hoosier Cabinets and walls and shelves loaded with hand painted wooden cutouts of farm animals; geese, cows, pigs and chickens all of varying sizes and demeanor. Interspersed with them were gaily decorated wooden bird houses of all sizes and shapes. Patchwork quilts like those lovingly made by pioneer women from flour sacks and out grown clothing, sat in neatly folded stacks or draped across wooden racks. Everywhere I looked and everything I saw quietly screamed "Made in America"!!!<br />
Curious as to what one of these carefully crafted "primitive wooden" farm animal cutouts might cost I picked one up and was immediately taken aback..."WHAT?!" I thought. "Someone is charging THIS MUCH for something that just stands or hangs there and does nothing?" I could almost hear the wheel cogs of my brain click into place begin to turn...<br />
I had been looking for something I could design/create that would add a bit of income to bridge the gaps between my free lance illustration jobs. So, (wheel cog clicking into wheel cog) what if I were to design something like this, but better. What if...(another wheel cog clicked into place) a wooden cutout did something more that just look cute and trendy standing on Ms./Mrs./Miss. American Homemaker's bookcase, shelf or oak trestle table? What if...(all brain wheel cogs now spinning smoothly) the wooden cutout was... a clock?!?<br />
And so it began...Merry Clocks was born or hatched or whatever... and took over my life.<br />
It was a great adventure. I learned so many "how to" things like: use a bandsaw, silk screen, design new product, advertise product, complete massive Christmas orders on time, package clocks to ship without damage and ship boxes and boxes, and boxes of clocks. When a challenge arose there was always someone there to help, family, friends and strangers too, thank you!!! It was a wild and crazy ride until, suddenly it stopped.<br />
The economy had shifted. The trend had ended. And all the little country cottage type stores were closing. I was burnt out and I yearned to paint. I wanted to use colors, real colors not milky blues and hazy mauves. And so when the next opportunity presented itself another adventure began and I will tell you that tale later.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0gUjBY-m3s/WU1X-Ma_eOI/AAAAAAAABCg/IcNEkm-D8cIuFXSWso36aN3lCPFB7YA6wCEwYBhgL/s1600/merryclockscropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="882" data-original-width="747" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0gUjBY-m3s/WU1X-Ma_eOI/AAAAAAAABCg/IcNEkm-D8cIuFXSWso36aN3lCPFB7YA6wCEwYBhgL/s400/merryclockscropped.jpg" width="338" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merry Clocks Brochure/MaryAnita Winklea/1985</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Please visit my website:<a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-44087290540069325002017-05-07T12:10:00.002-07:002017-05-07T12:10:14.354-07:00Magical Birds I Have Known<br />
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section" style="background-color: rgb(100.000000%, 100.000000%, 100.000000%);">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> There is a pigeon roosting down the hall from my art studio. I am on the fifth floor. He gained
entrance to the building through the permanently open window that allows access to the fire escape. I haven't seen a Mrs. Pigeon so I believe
he is a bachelor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> He has chosen to set up housekeeping (although not
tidy at all) on top of an abandoned piece of electronic equipment next to the window and as I write he is contentedly coo coo cooing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> I like birds. I find them magical and inspiring. Birds seem to like me too. I loved how on
mornings when working in the garden, hummingbirds would fly right up to my face and hover
there, the breeze from their wings ruffling my hair. Or when little wrens and sparrows that would
hop up on the bench next to me when I would be eating lunch outdoors. Ravens are always fun
to watch and I love that a group of ravens is called (EEK!) a “murder”.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> Only once was I scared by birds...no it wasn’t the classic Hitchcock movie, “The Birds” but it felt
like a scene from it.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> When I moved back to help my Dad take care of my Mom we converted the detached garage
into a studio work/live space for me. One morning, like any other morning I opened the studio
door to go outside, but something was different. The air was filled with the
sound of birds quietly chittering, but not the normal everyday chittering sound of the birds
nesting in the backyard trees...this was a fuller, somewhat ominous sound...I looked around and then up at the
electrical lines that ran along the rim of the embankment at the end of the yard...and there...
filling the lines were hundreds of starlings...chittering...and all I could think of was the sound of
the birds just before they attacked in Hitchcock’s movie and...not wanting to disturb them, I
quietly retreated back into the garage and closed the door...
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> I don’t think Mr. Pigeon and I will become great friends. I am not sure he is really welcomed by
the other artists and creators on the fifth floor, but his presence has reminded me of all the many
birds I have illustrated/painted in the past and, who knows, colorful magical birds may begin to appear in future
garden paintings. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;">Please visit my new website: <a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNgVaFbKR2I/WQ9qLUZ2CkI/AAAAAAAABAs/fYrDoF_IL0kJCCI9mWkAz5HdM2Fz487PACLcB/s1600/blackbirds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mNgVaFbKR2I/WQ9qLUZ2CkI/AAAAAAAABAs/fYrDoF_IL0kJCCI9mWkAz5HdM2Fz487PACLcB/s400/blackbirds.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Birds Watercolor & Gouache on paper/2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bb1YZBiTc6Y/WQ9qSBZqYgI/AAAAAAAABAw/HYyRMTWtPVQhfqICF8gpbxUOYYWMVIZGgCLcB/s1600/birdsand%2Bflowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bb1YZBiTc6Y/WQ9qSBZqYgI/AAAAAAAABAw/HYyRMTWtPVQhfqICF8gpbxUOYYWMVIZGgCLcB/s400/birdsand%2Bflowers.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birds & Flowers Watercolor & Gouache on paper/2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VaOltAswkF4/WQ9qXS8OjEI/AAAAAAAABA0/d_gQ0ajY6RcN8NtP7db5SCzfhtoWuhusQCEw/s1600/lovebird.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VaOltAswkF4/WQ9qXS8OjEI/AAAAAAAABA0/d_gQ0ajY6RcN8NtP7db5SCzfhtoWuhusQCEw/s400/lovebird.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love Bird Watercolor on paper/1983</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-34421303261256699292017-04-22T13:29:00.000-07:002017-04-23T21:06:58.396-07:00Yearning for Color...<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> I had always grown up around textiles. My father was a furrier and his shop was filled with with all the minutia involved in making a fur coat: animal skins, a wooden box filled with nails used to stretch out the skins, spools of thread, felted batting, needles and pins and bolts of plain or brocade silk in various shades of brown, grey and black with cards of bias tape and ruching to match.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Many a Saturday my older sister Jo and I would spend the day at the “shop” with Daddy. Mornings were spent coloring and drinking cups of coffee which we sweetened with too many sugar cubes and evaporated milk. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> At noon my Dad would lock up the shop and we would walk down the street for a chicken pie at the Chicken Pie Shop, or a hamburger eaten while sitting at the counter at the Owl Drug Store, or if Uncle Joe the mink dealer was in town, Caesar’s restaurant where we would sit in tall dark wooden booths eating big plates of spaghetti and meatballs. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> After lunch my sister and I would walk to the movie theatre and for hours we would be lost in make believe worlds. So many movies, but one of the movies I remember most clearly was Cinderella, Disney’s version filled with color and songs. And how magical it was when the birds and animals sang and tweeted while making the dress for Cinderella. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> This scene with it’s spools of thread and bits of colorful ribbon danced through my head as we walked back to the shop and I couldn’t wait to make something beautiful too with spools of thread and bits of ruching waiting at the shop.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> I remember standing at Daddy’s work table winding brown thread around some pins stuck in the table’s wood surface and connecting bits of black ruching together and wanting so badly to make something magical and beautiful all the time yearning for a beautiful blue ribbon or bright pink thread… </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Now if this was a movie, a calendar with pages flying off would flash onto the screen…fast forward 50 years…after 40+ years of working as an Illustrator, Designer & Painter I had decided to go back to school…Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising (FIDM) Here I would be able to combine all my skills and be able to work as a Designer in the fields of textiles and home goods. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> What a heady experience! Color and beauty and practicality all combined! For the first time school made sense and I was thriving…until…screeching to a halt (movie sound effect) I began my computer classes… and my brain shut down and turned to teflon and computer speak slid right out of my grasp.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> And that was it…I could not use the skills I had honed for years. My heart could not connect with my hand pushing a mouse or stylist on a Wacom pad…and my heart and mind did not respond with an almost audible “click” when on the computer screen, just the right shade of green came up against just the right shade of violet…and I yearned for that visceral connection of Hand, Heart and Mind.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> I did finish my studies and graduate, but never did hone my computer skills. Why am I writing this? Because I had to stop beating myself up for not learning the computer skills needed to be hired as a textile designer. I had to accept that I did not fail. I created beautiful work while at FIDM. And not being in sync with technology does not make me incompetent it just makes me who I am. I am a person who needs to follow my heart and it’s yearnings.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> And “yearning” is what has moved me forward in my creative life. Yearning for color. Yearning to be able to paint and capture light and emotion as Van Gogh did. Yearning to create a thing of beauty to enhance the lives of others. Yearning continuously to engage in the ethereal Hand, Heart, and Mind connection.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Please visit and share my new website:<a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--y-Q64CpZcU/WPu7QQN7ncI/AAAAAAAAA_o/xXNMXvj431QMcrqaE-70GrWRkelvvPqxwCLcB/s1600/bikerboys.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--y-Q64CpZcU/WPu7QQN7ncI/AAAAAAAAA_o/xXNMXvj431QMcrqaE-70GrWRkelvvPqxwCLcB/s320/bikerboys.JPG" width="319" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biker Boys/Man's shirt/2008 Gouache on watercolor paper</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j4sxLCdr_Rs/WPu7VrppWNI/AAAAAAAAA_s/K3PxIimJEPYdQjjPIZ_bJFOpWLOSyZx9QCLcB/s1600/Crysanthemum8%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j4sxLCdr_Rs/WPu7VrppWNI/AAAAAAAAA_s/K3PxIimJEPYdQjjPIZ_bJFOpWLOSyZx9QCLcB/s320/Crysanthemum8%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="190" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chrysanthemums/Wallpaper/2006 Gouache on watercolor paper</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PR_ATa29yM4/WPu7bJBN2yI/AAAAAAAAA_w/JeozZGLaYEkILqXF4zyxBvZhpdTBQMtUwCLcB/s1600/ottomancarpet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PR_ATa29yM4/WPu7bJBN2yI/AAAAAAAAA_w/JeozZGLaYEkILqXF4zyxBvZhpdTBQMtUwCLcB/s320/ottomancarpet.JPG" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ottoman Carpet/2006 Gouache on watercolor paper</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5RPe2IRx5o/WPu7nDoBGgI/AAAAAAAAA_0/PGn9KbkjTUM2hSDN3C7XjnL2rzfJHJ3CwCLcB/s1600/platerimcloseup.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5RPe2IRx5o/WPu7nDoBGgI/AAAAAAAAA_0/PGn9KbkjTUM2hSDN3C7XjnL2rzfJHJ3CwCLcB/s320/platerimcloseup.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plate Rim/2006 Gouache on watercolor paper</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-52158069155082331512017-04-12T11:09:00.000-07:002017-04-12T11:09:46.119-07:00Tending the Garden<br />
<div class="page" title="Page 1">
<div class="section" style="background-color: rgb(100.000000%, 100.000000%, 100.000000%);">
<div class="layoutArea">
<div class="column">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> I have been thinking a lot about gardens lately. It began last week when driving to the studio.
The route I take goes up a hill through a canyon and with all the rain we have had this winter the
canyon hillsides are in full bloom...wild mustard, Black Eyed Susans and daisies all competing
waving their electric yellow heads. Brilliant orange poppies and tiny purple and white flowers
wave too with the trees and shrubs creating a dramatic multi green background. And the air is
filled with the smell of ground warming in the morning sun.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> All this reminds me of early mornings spent in gardens I have tended over the years the last of
which was the backyard garden I planted while caring for my father. When I moved in the yard
was all weeds and jumble. My father’s time and energy had been focused on taking care of my
mother.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> Each morning after breakfast I would go out and clear a space. The first space I cleared I
planted sunflowers. You can always count on sunflowers. They are strong and resilient and love
to stand tall facing the sun. When they began to die back I cut off the flowers and wove their
stems through the chainlink fence for the birds to feast on.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> The next Spring I planted Icelandic Poppies. They are so lovely with their tall thin stems and
tissue like petals. I planted a packet of seeds for blue poppies and another for pink. When the
petals dropped and the seed pods dried I broke them open scattering the seeds for the next
year’s blooms...and bloom they did but to my surprise they were not just solid blue and pink as
the year before, but variegated colors of pink with white edges or stripes and the same with the
blue. And each year they came back a bit altered from the year before.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> The garden grew as I cleared more and more space. Avocado trees began sprouting up from
seeds I had thrown into the compost. A fruiting peach tree and nectarine tree also sprouted and
grew from compost seeds. It was a lovely garden and I tended it until my father passed and we
sold the house.
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> I miss tending a garden. So today I am posting these paintings in honor of resilient sunflowers
and ever changing poppies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11.000000pt;"> Please visit and share my new website;<a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-INyEgMQSits/WO5pWvyhnDI/AAAAAAAAA-U/3utqxdi8hycdsnCXmXkpTzb_mrb6yvkcwCLcB/s1600/sunflower5x7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-INyEgMQSits/WO5pWvyhnDI/AAAAAAAAA-U/3utqxdi8hycdsnCXmXkpTzb_mrb6yvkcwCLcB/s320/sunflower5x7.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunflowers 5" x 7" oil on canvas board 2017<br />
Available </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3Ab_NXkMjg/WO5stcwsSSI/AAAAAAAAA-o/XHOq3orobUAGOVjRF3bZRPCzh-1LRD8CQCLcB/s1600/pinkpoppie5x7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3Ab_NXkMjg/WO5stcwsSSI/AAAAAAAAA-o/XHOq3orobUAGOVjRF3bZRPCzh-1LRD8CQCLcB/s320/pinkpoppie5x7.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink Poppy 5" x 7" oil on canvas board 2017<br />Available</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-8540256876063298982017-03-30T11:24:00.001-07:002017-04-17T15:33:35.408-07:00"Lost Edens and Magical Lands" Amazing how words can take me away...mind traveling...no need to pack...no need to wait in lines or hustle and bustle...just drift and imagine...sketch and...there I am in a place where tea pots float above the trees and sweet honey bees bless the day....<br />
Sip some tea, or coffee if you choose, and enjoy your visit to my new website:<br />
<a href="http://www.maryanita.com/">http://www.maryanita.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O3CO1hlgUTc/WN1JOtHLkYI/AAAAAAAAA9s/s4eYo8lwIfQI_9UcOS42oQ_RqidZnk3-ACLcB/s1600/teapot_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-O3CO1hlgUTc/WN1JOtHLkYI/AAAAAAAAA9s/s4eYo8lwIfQI_9UcOS42oQ_RqidZnk3-ACLcB/s400/teapot_edit.jpg" width="325" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tea Pot 8 1/2"x 10 1/2" oil on maple panel/1999<br />
For comment or information: www.maryanita.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-76068694802900251162017-03-21T10:58:00.000-07:002017-04-17T15:42:54.045-07:00Hello Spring! Spring...new beginnings blooming. In ancient times Spring was the beginning of the new year. Seems reasonable to me that with the darkness of winter waning to signs of new life that something has ended and something new is about to begin.<br />
Honor and Blessings to all new beginnings in your life!<br />
Enjoy and visit my new website: http://www.maryanita.com<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tYB9tZnwH8M/WNFoLhRhe0I/AAAAAAAAA88/uj_BtPiX3JEiPu4C5mtC3B-sUObIRAmDgCLcB/s1600/HelloSpring_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tYB9tZnwH8M/WNFoLhRhe0I/AAAAAAAAA88/uj_BtPiX3JEiPu4C5mtC3B-sUObIRAmDgCLcB/s400/HelloSpring_edit.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luci & George 8 1/2"x 11" Gouache on paper/ 2001<br />
For comment or information contact: mwinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-89318390970291526852017-03-05T14:49:00.003-08:002017-04-17T15:45:33.939-07:00Along the Silk Road... I had always heard about the "Silk Road" but it wasn't until I returned to school in 2006 to study Textile Surface design that I understood the deep impact it had on human civilization. Not only were material goods transported along the Silk Road but cultures, religions and languages were also exchanged along the way. And even as today, there were times when traders could travel safely and at others they could encounter great danger.<br />
Isn't it amazing how history continues in such a predictable cyclical manner? How empires and governments rise and fall? How we humans continue to migrate, adapt and settle? How our creativity for survival affects the growth of us as a species on this our beautiful tiny blue planet?<br />
Why am I writing about this today? For the past year I have worked part time at a major department store and each day I am surrounded by a tiny sampling of women from around our tiny blue planet. I love my co-workers. I love hearing them talk, their words tinged with a hint of their country of origin. I love hearing conversations easily flow back and forth in two languages. Like a beautiful dance, both languages turn and swirl, laugh and tumble. We have so much to share...we have so much to learn from one another... and so much joy to create.<br />
Enjoy and share my new website: http://www.maryanita.com<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sDBOLV2uMns/WLyToBeEOFI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Hn5aDSRHa7I1w_TjiZGWzBR4c8S3T9oCwCLcB/s1600/turkishgarden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sDBOLV2uMns/WLyToBeEOFI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Hn5aDSRHa7I1w_TjiZGWzBR4c8S3T9oCwCLcB/s640/turkishgarden.jpg" width="431" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turkish Garden /watercolor & gouache on paper 2007<br />
For comment or information contact: mwinklea@gmail.com </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-28204607078220408082017-02-18T14:35:00.000-08:002017-02-18T14:35:36.149-08:00"A Room of One's Own" I love these words. I have loved them since I first heard them. It is the title of a series of lectures given by Virginia Woolf in 1928 on women and fiction and later published as a book under the same title. In the opening lines Virginia Woolf states, "A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." As a painter I have had many "rooms/studios" of my own both large and small.<br />
When I began to paint it was my bedroom in my parents home. When I was first married it was a little building off the back of the tiny one bedroom house we rented. One end of the interior of the little building was just wide enough for a work sink and a washing machine and at the other end of the room my oversized wooden drafting table filled the space from wall to wall. In the few feet of space left in the middle stood my easel along with 2 bikes and some storage boxes.<br />
The little building set the standard and with each successive move my first thought when looking at a living space has been, "Is there space here for my studio?" Now this seems a simple question and as the years have progressed I have found many "rooms of my own", sometimes creative thinking was employed...a bedroom becomes a studio/a living room becomes a bedroom. Garages were an easy solution and many a year was spent and art created in garage studios and several times I have rented studios away from my home.<br />
My current studio is my fourth rented studio and is on the fifth floor of an old storage building built in the 1920's/30's. I am surrounded by wood workers with buzzing saws...furniture refinishers with sanders whining... a bicycle repair shop with an air compressor that fills itself hourly...a huge freight elevator across from my space that rumbles and squawks every time someone uses it... and yet, amidst all this chaotic noise, I have a space of my own, to paint in...dream in...write in...and be me in. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yS08lKSi8t4/WKjG7y_VCkI/AAAAAAAAA7k/HftYF10aHqoY8ES2YKMA6naKE6uEsrriACLcB/s1600/studio2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yS08lKSi8t4/WKjG7y_VCkI/AAAAAAAAA7k/HftYF10aHqoY8ES2YKMA6naKE6uEsrriACLcB/s1600/studio2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2r13XOlMYEg/WKjHCXkeg7I/AAAAAAAAA7o/pOLa760gDbs7WvWesNU55f1-GmZvjhG0QCLcB/s1600/studio3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2r13XOlMYEg/WKjHCXkeg7I/AAAAAAAAA7o/pOLa760gDbs7WvWesNU55f1-GmZvjhG0QCLcB/s1600/studio3.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_M5FQP1e40Y/WKjHIVzd_eI/AAAAAAAAA7s/tqTy2rCmczsTHLIBvGDEDMOXJ1PSfPgYQCLcB/s1600/studio4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_M5FQP1e40Y/WKjHIVzd_eI/AAAAAAAAA7s/tqTy2rCmczsTHLIBvGDEDMOXJ1PSfPgYQCLcB/s1600/studio4.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dKAlts9BbXQ/WKjHPWhGBMI/AAAAAAAAA7w/BvpP1O56Ci8fIHoVIzDAgUv-OJtgm50BACLcB/s1600/studio5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dKAlts9BbXQ/WKjHPWhGBMI/AAAAAAAAA7w/BvpP1O56Ci8fIHoVIzDAgUv-OJtgm50BACLcB/s1600/studio5.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--mxx2cPx4AA/WKjHVdTh56I/AAAAAAAAA70/EinyIo1j5CI8hngFeHtmIihztwSW2kTUQCLcB/s1600/studio6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--mxx2cPx4AA/WKjHVdTh56I/AAAAAAAAA70/EinyIo1j5CI8hngFeHtmIihztwSW2kTUQCLcB/s1600/studio6.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For information or comment: mwinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-7613491046176287592017-02-10T12:55:00.000-08:002017-03-23T11:46:08.947-07:00School Teacher's Ways My Aunt 'Nita was a school teacher. She taught English and Latin at a high school in Ohio. She never married. Each summer she would spend taking classes at one or another of Ohio's Colleges and Universities. She took care of her aging parents, my grandmother who I met once and my grandfather who I met twice. Crestline Ohio was a world away from San Diego California...a world populated with cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents I only knew through black and white photographs.<br />
When I was in high school I read "Good Morning Miss Dove" and from that time on I thought of my Aunt 'Nita as Miss Dove. When she retired in 1965 and moved to San Diego I realized that she really was like Miss Dove. Prim and proper Aunt 'Nita was devoted to her students, and many who had graduated years ago were still in contact with her. Several even came out to visit her at her new home in San Diego.<br />
In 1970 Aunt 'Nita moved to Oregon. Her older sister and niece lived there but mainly the move was made because her school teacher's pension would stretch a bit further. When she moved she left a box of photographs she thought I might enjoy looking through...and I did.<br />
The last time I saw Aunt 'Nita was in 1994. She was moving into a retirement home and needed help with sorting through and packing her belongings and my mother was not up to the task. I knew my Aunt had been having some memory problems and glad that she was not going to be living alone.<br />
As we sorted and packed and chatted about this and that I realized that things were a bit worse than just "some memory problems". One cupboard was filled bottles of ketchup another with boxes of cherry Jello.<br />
Upon seeing my reaction Aunt 'Nita's response was, "I never know when someone might call together a game of Bridge."<br />
But the moment that endeared her to me most was when I went through her liquor cupboard filled with old half empty bottles of liquor.<br />
"Aunt 'Nita we need to empty these." I said and she agreed. I poured the liquor down the kitchen sink drain and began to gather the bottles to take out to the trash bin.<br />
"You can't do that!" She whispered hoarsely<br />
"Why?" I asked<br />
"Because what will the neighbors think?" Then she straightened her back and sincerely said in her school teacher's way, "Many a reputation has been ruined over a Bridge table."<br />
The painting below is from and old black & white photo taken in the 1940's and found in the box left by my Aunt 'Nita. On the table, near the jar of pickles is a silver flask...Love you Aunt 'Nita!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--EDdf8MUJMI/WJ4mO_KXOaI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/xTR2raShEy0-BxhE80axue3RaiRgKGTpACLcB/s1600/winklea_mary_6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--EDdf8MUJMI/WJ4mO_KXOaI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/xTR2raShEy0-BxhE80axue3RaiRgKGTpACLcB/s400/winklea_mary_6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt 'Nita's Picnic/1973/Oil on Canvas 24"w x 18"h<br />
Information or Comment: mwinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-62593331299973425482017-02-03T16:03:00.001-08:002017-03-23T11:46:58.209-07:00The Purple Painting "Can you take a photo of one of my old paintings?"<br />
"Which one?" My sister asked.<br />
"The big one that hung the living room for years..you know the one with the girls in the center and the flowers at the bottom."<br />
She gave me a puzzled look, "No, I don't know what you are talking about."<br />
"I have it in the car. I'll go get it and bring it in..."<br />
<br />
In the past few years I have moved several times and in moving I have pared down my belongings to the bare minimum...except my art supplies. I once joked that, you know you are an artist when 95% of your belongings are art supplies. And in this last move there was no room for the above described painting, so I removed the frame, cut the canvas off the stretcher bars and the painting now free, began to tell me its history which I had forgotten over the 48 years since it was created.<br />
First was its' frame made of simple pine strips I had cut and stained and tacked onto its edges. Next were the stretcher bars that I had made after my Dad taught me how to use the saw and miter box. Then the canvas which now I saw was not canvas at all but heavy muslin fabric my Dad used to make "canvas" pattern blocks for client fittings for fur coats.<br />
Finally the painting itself. Inspired by an old photo of my older sister and me standing in a field I sketched out the composition, eagerly looking forward to taking my first painting class at Mesa College. A class, I learned to my dismay required pre-requesites which I hadn't yet fulfilled but, if I could get the approval of Head of the Art Department I could take the class.<br />
I cannot remember which or how many of my paintings I gathered together to present to the Department Head. All I can remember is standing at his office door with my paintings. He looked, then waved his hand dismissively and said, "Go on, take the class."<br />
<br />
"Here is the painting." I said as I unrolled the canvas onto my sister's dining room floor.<br />
"Oh, I always liked this painting. I called this one The Purple Painting."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VkYj6N8wV5M/WJUXx8TXVeI/AAAAAAAAA54/veJNAD6XV0syVtxOyzwqIG9gwHDcsCsvwCLcB/s1600/purplepainting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VkYj6N8wV5M/WJUXx8TXVeI/AAAAAAAAA54/veJNAD6XV0syVtxOyzwqIG9gwHDcsCsvwCLcB/s400/purplepainting.jpg" width="341" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Purple Painting/oil on canvas/ H 47 1/2"xW 38 1/2" /Mary Anita Winklea 1969<br />
For information or comments:mwinklea@gmail.com </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-75866892291168701272017-01-27T12:16:00.001-08:002017-03-23T11:47:42.948-07:00Remember the Love... The daily newspaper was always delivered in the afternoon at our home. My mother and father would read it after dinner while my sisters and I would clear the table, which many times would result in a food fight, laughter and chasing each other out the back door and in the front door. Throughout this rumpus my parents would quietly continue reading.<br />
Beige was the tone of the times. There were no shocking pinks or electric blues in our daily lives. I remember my mother's disapproving look when I spent birthday money on a bright red sweater. We were never to stand out or draw attention to ourselves, so laughter and silliness became our bright colors.<br />
My parents were good, kind and creative people. And being of their time they funneled their creativity into the accepted modes, church and work.<br />
My father had a beautiful baritone voice which he shared with the world through his solos at weddings and the church. He shared his gift of design and attention to detail through his work as a furrier.<br />
My mother shared her love of theatre through directing and staging various productions of plays and musicals for fund raising at the church. And her writing skills through compiling a history the woman's contribution to the growth and survival of the church.<br />
And that was my world growing up. Home, church, and school...or at least that was what I had always thought was my world...but in reflecting back, deeper into the layers I realize that it was so much more. My life growing up, much like a like a beautiful painting, was actually layer after layer of subtle colors and tones... the homes we lived in were always within walking distance to the ocean and that beautiful and expansive place was continually available to us... our church was quite liberal for the times and there I was introduced to Jewish traditions reflected in the life of Christ, unconditional love and compassion as taught by the Buddha and, of all things, physic phenomena...but deeper, much like the base coat of gesso on the canvas, were my father's words, "Remember the love"...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gyHbKcX6COs/WIumSfFLvuI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/2lT24V7bRvALntr9gBQMVKa7vTZoSXNEQCEw/s1600/winklea_mary_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gyHbKcX6COs/WIumSfFLvuI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/2lT24V7bRvALntr9gBQMVKa7vTZoSXNEQCEw/s400/winklea_mary_7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Daddy and the Daily News"/oil on canvas 1970/from BW photo 1940<br />
Comments & Information: mwinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-10106938792018551112017-01-17T15:11:00.000-08:002017-03-23T11:48:20.599-07:00Turbulent Times 1967 was a turbulent time. Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights movement...Viet Nam War protests...Hippies, Flower Children and Haight Ashbury... 6 pm news with Walter Cronkite announcing in his sad grandfatherly voice, the body count from the day's battles in Viet Nam...the world was topsy turvy... and I was painting.<br />
Each night after dinner dishes were done I would go up to my room and sketch and paint. Magazine photos were my inspiration and my teaching tool. Black and white photos were still the standard. Look and Life magazine photo journalists captured the world and relayed it to us through full page spreads.<br />
I do not remember what the article was about, all I know was I was inspired by a photo of an old man. First I did a sketch and then I did a painting of him. My father loved the painting and it hung in our living room for sometime, but I, being the impatient artist had another inspiration for a painting. So the old man painting was gessoed over and another inspired image covered the canvas, but somewhere in time (Father's Day? Birthday?) I gave my father the sketch of the old man which I had decoupaged onto a scrap of distressed pine.<br />
Now 50 years later, and world is still awash in turbulent times, I look at the old man sketch and am reminded that inspiration, beauty, love and kindness are always available for those who chose to be it.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KH6ZmqPiwJk/WH6iIFRhMqI/AAAAAAAAA40/OW_-jUg8XrUn-llVyJI_1sqXJBG_-OaaACLcB/s1600/winklea_mary_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KH6ZmqPiwJk/WH6iIFRhMqI/AAAAAAAAA40/OW_-jUg8XrUn-llVyJI_1sqXJBG_-OaaACLcB/s400/winklea_mary_3.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Man 6"x7 1/2" Pencil & Watercolor on newsprint/ Mary Anita Winklea 1967</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-80549035455303819182017-01-09T12:38:00.000-08:002017-03-23T11:51:29.320-07:00Then and Now... Recently I applied for a grant. This was the first time I had gone through this process and in doing so I was given the gift of looking back over at my 50+ year history as a painter. One of the grant requirements was to write a narrative of my journey as an artist and to accompany this narrative with photos of my work.<br />
The grant application is now signed, sealed and sent off into the internet ethers, but still in my thoughts. Not in the sense of will I get it or not, but with the deeper realization that the vast portion of my life has been spent pursing this passion to paint! I find myself still amazed that at 16 years old my heart was cracked so wide open by the words in a book, <i>Van Gogh: a self portrait </i>a collection of letters written to his brother Theo.<br />
Last October this book came back into my life. One of my sisters was moving to Hawaii and clearing out her collection of books and there it was, my book complete with my name, address and phone number I had written on the back page some 50+ years ago.<br />
Fate? Serendipity? I would like to think of it as a reaffirmation of my path, my destiny. I am a painter and though it has not always sustained me financially it has always filled my heart.<br />
<i>"In those (paintings) there is at least something straight from my own heart."</i>Vincent Van Gogh<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rywrp-mWbOg/WHA-IUmm24I/AAAAAAAAA38/sBF0_6yAL-IWoCleK--ECVkO_3fuNCsDwCEw/s1600/winklea_mary_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rywrp-mWbOg/WHA-IUmm24I/AAAAAAAAA38/sBF0_6yAL-IWoCleK--ECVkO_3fuNCsDwCEw/s400/winklea_mary_1.jpg" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daisies 71/2" x 16 3/8" oil on tagboard/ Mary Anita Winklea 1963</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-31dP_h7Ikk0/WHPzouYbYdI/AAAAAAAAA4U/BdvG53yjaC08xd44TVNZEtkGRsv9el56QCLcB/s1600/gardenstorm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-31dP_h7Ikk0/WHPzouYbYdI/AAAAAAAAA4U/BdvG53yjaC08xd44TVNZEtkGRsv9el56QCLcB/s400/gardenstorm2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden Storm 12" x 12" oil on canvas/Mary Anita Winklea 2016</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-65920315285758515532016-09-13T08:05:00.000-07:002017-03-23T11:52:20.409-07:00And so the journey continues....The "Imaginary Gardens" opening was wonderful. Thank you to all my family and friends who attended.<br />
What a journey this has been creating all of these paintings. In all my years of painting I had never created a themed "body of work" until now...no... wait...I have created series but most were illustrative or vehicles of learning. Yes they were "painted" but not what most would call, "Paintings" or "Fine Art" or...maybe it is just me, the scared me, the little me looking outside, comparing myself to others. Judging myself by price tags and sales...not honoring the truth that with each completed piece of work I had tapped into part of my soul. I had tapped into what the ancient Greeks called "Genius" that bit of star soul that each of us are born with but tend not to listen to or act upon, but instead listen to the babbles of the world, judge ourselves and then act upon what is shown to us as "successful...popular...trending..."<br />
<br />
Golly...true confessions...deep breath...<br />
<br />
I am a painter. I will continue to be a painter and paint. And so the journey continues...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JwDJ-ywHD0/V9gTPOh4_4I/AAAAAAAAAyI/woAaJWLcP6ojQL5Y_zgyO4S8TR76csheACLcB/s1600/_MG_1778-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JwDJ-ywHD0/V9gTPOh4_4I/AAAAAAAAAyI/woAaJWLcP6ojQL5Y_zgyO4S8TR76csheACLcB/s400/_MG_1778-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iris Wishes/2016/ 12"x16"/Mary Anita Winklea/Photo Ernie Viskupic<br />
For comments or information: mwinklea@gmail.com </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-54172079275852659312016-07-07T14:26:00.000-07:002016-10-27T20:42:24.502-07:00"Use bigger brushes. Paint faster. Don't hold back!"I came across this sage advice in a newsletter I receive. It is from an interview with Allen C. Smith, abstract painter. He was asked what advice would he give a beginning painter. My initial thought was, "This has nothing to do with me, my painting techniques..." as I toiled away with my teeny tiny #0 round brush on the painting below. It is a small canvas, 12"x 12" filled with lots of tiny details. "He is an abstract painter," I thought, "with lots of splash and drags of color. I don't paint that way." But his words kept popping into my head days later as I moved onto my next painting on a larger 16" x 20" cradled board. And there I was again dibbing and dabbing away with my tiny brushes and wondering why the painting was not progressing as quickly as I had wanted it to. I was holding back. I was painting really, really slowly...and I was using teeny tiny brushes...and, what I would add to Allen C. Smith's sage advice is..."get out of your head and into your heart"<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KQR9GoUtuwo/V37H__6AuVI/AAAAAAAAAwc/borEMAZWUSYWPJV1GOvV3iMhWsO6-BfYgCLcB/s1600/gardenstorm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KQR9GoUtuwo/V37H__6AuVI/AAAAAAAAAwc/borEMAZWUSYWPJV1GOvV3iMhWsO6-BfYgCLcB/s320/gardenstorm2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden Storm (WIP) 12"x 12" oil on canvas/Photo Ernie Viskupic<br />
For comments or information: www.mwinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-40421759500864939502016-06-30T12:42:00.000-07:002016-10-10T14:00:47.394-07:00Crossing The Bridge...Years ago when I was exploring how spirituality and creativity intersect I read a quote from Matthew Fox which went something like this, "The bridge between chaos and peace is creativity..."<br />
I love this quote and am finding it comforting as I progress on this painting adventure. Facing the chaos of the smears and streaks of my brush cleanings onto cradled boards can be daunting and with much turning and seeking some sense as to top or bottom becomes clear. Taking a piece of white chalk I begin to outline random areas of shapes all the while questioning, "What shape is this? Tree? Flower? Grass?" And, sometimes slowly while other times with mind spinning quickness, "AHA!" the layout of the painting comes into focus and for a moment all is peaceful. The chaos seems tamed, manageable soon to be locked into place with painted white lines...but as with all living things, chaos always lurks... lines get painted over...shapes altered, deleted or added...the painting grows and expands...chaos...creativity...peace...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H_uw2c7Jtm8/V3V0cTgK9XI/AAAAAAAAAwE/ReZnp4b0UJgJRRFsFrsnVTbdwsntswU-QCLcB/s1600/iriswishes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H_uw2c7Jtm8/V3V0cTgK9XI/AAAAAAAAAwE/ReZnp4b0UJgJRRFsFrsnVTbdwsntswU-QCLcB/s320/iriswishes.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iris Wishes (WIP)16"x20" Oil on Cradled Board / Photo by Ernie Viskupic<br />
For Comments or information:www.mawinklea@gmail.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-52213769387014369732016-06-22T12:48:00.000-07:002016-10-10T14:02:52.146-07:00...and so it begins...These swirls, smears and brush strokes are how I begin a painting. Well, maybe I should clarify that. This is how I begin one of my "Imaginary Gardens" paintings. I began this adventure almost two years ago and posted pictures of the first imaginary garden paintings I had done. They were quite small, the largest being 8"x10". Time passed. I sold several of the paintings and life went on. I did some commissioned portraits and continued my practice of "brush cleaning" moving onto larger boards with the thought that eventually I would do more Imaginary Gardens. Well that time has come. I have been invited to show some of my work at a local frame shop and I would like to share this experience with you as I work to put this collection together. With six paintings in progress I will begin my posts at the beginning...with swirls, smears, and brush strokes...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--1jx3nhk1Y8/V2rqRp7PrQI/AAAAAAAAAvs/yP5JoeFs5osa8FHJkd5rs0kkSW_fQ_ImgCLcB/s1600/inthebeginning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--1jx3nhk1Y8/V2rqRp7PrQI/AAAAAAAAAvs/yP5JoeFs5osa8FHJkd5rs0kkSW_fQ_ImgCLcB/s320/inthebeginning.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">9"x12" oil on cradled board / photo by Ernie Viskupic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvX0ye0dtL0/V2rkcwxdubI/AAAAAAAAAvU/NNpP65th_Y4Lq6JLdP3a4LtcGA2LzuPewCLcB/s1600/goodstart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvX0ye0dtL0/V2rkcwxdubI/AAAAAAAAAvU/NNpP65th_Y4Lq6JLdP3a4LtcGA2LzuPewCLcB/s320/goodstart.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20"x20" oil on cradled board /photo by Ernie Viskupic<br />
For information or comments: www.mwinklea@gmail.com<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-52275362472134428172016-01-21T08:20:00.000-08:002016-01-21T08:22:47.719-08:00Getting ready for another move...Clearing out my map cabinet I came across this watercolor painting, a greeting card illustration I did in 1980 for Windermere Press. A gentle reminder in the midst of chaos.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp2EldYshKw/VqEEXnSEgrI/AAAAAAAAAsg/LJqNSewNaRA/s1600/swan19803536-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp2EldYshKw/VqEEXnSEgrI/AAAAAAAAAsg/LJqNSewNaRA/s320/swan19803536-2.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With gentle grace the swan moves from one side of the pond to another. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-49950228763043479062016-01-07T17:37:00.000-08:002016-01-07T17:38:33.868-08:00 Raining Cats & Dogs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here in Southern California we have been experiencing a lot of rain this week. And as one old saying goes, it has been, "Raining cats & dogs." So in honor of the rain, here is a sample selection of several pet portraits I have been commissioned to paint. Some are realistic. Some are whimsical. All are a wonderful way to honor a beloved furry companion. If you are interested in commissioning a portrait please private message me, Mary Anita Winklea on Facebook.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nMKXxkVQu70/Vo8RxRJvhCI/AAAAAAAAArw/GNyDP4LU__w/s1600/bettycocopaint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nMKXxkVQu70/Vo8RxRJvhCI/AAAAAAAAArw/GNyDP4LU__w/s320/bettycocopaint.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Betty & Coco Oil on panel 9"x 12"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Nz4sAVkNMQ/Vo8RAIdgUiI/AAAAAAAAArk/HaboZfLECPk/s1600/magicalcatmysticalgarden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--Nz4sAVkNMQ/Vo8RAIdgUiI/AAAAAAAAArk/HaboZfLECPk/s320/magicalcatmysticalgarden.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magical Cat Mystical Garden Oil on panel18"x 24"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzHqfzAWoLM/Vo8PwHiFDzI/AAAAAAAAArc/kxe2AzBArUI/s1600/cocoavery.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzHqfzAWoLM/Vo8PwHiFDzI/AAAAAAAAArc/kxe2AzBArUI/s320/cocoavery.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco & Avery Oil on panel 8"x 10"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XOyix9ZTdrI/Vo8Oi1xUGwI/AAAAAAAAArE/8tw3GICnkE8/s1600/martaspetsmawinkleadesign2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XOyix9ZTdrI/Vo8Oi1xUGwI/AAAAAAAAArE/8tw3GICnkE8/s320/martaspetsmawinkleadesign2009.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam & Friends Oil on panel 16"x20"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SbuGLDpN8Yg/Vo8OJREu1qI/AAAAAAAAAq8/eY5x5DU5vsM/s1600/feeding%2Bthe%2Bcat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SbuGLDpN8Yg/Vo8OJREu1qI/AAAAAAAAAq8/eY5x5DU5vsM/s320/feeding%2Bthe%2Bcat.jpg" width="287" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeding Tito Oil on panel 16"x 20"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-51347826363880902362015-11-05T19:56:00.000-08:002016-04-17T13:24:13.280-07:00More PortraitsThis is a portrait I posted in this blog several years ago. This is a commissioned piece done from an old black & white photograph taken in the late 1940's/early 1950's. I love working from old photos. I feel the black & white format captures an innocence not always reflected in today's photos. Or maybe it was just the times back then when life moved a bit slower and your neighborhood or small town was your whole world.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kx28QIXBBqk/VjwkAe4o77I/AAAAAAAAAqg/OzBT0HM5FXo/s1600/marian%2526sisters1mawinkleadesign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kx28QIXBBqk/VjwkAe4o77I/AAAAAAAAAqg/OzBT0HM5FXo/s1600/marian%2526sisters1mawinkleadesign.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marian & Sisters 18" x 24" Oil on Canvas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-83317469786833277792015-09-29T09:20:00.000-07:002015-09-29T09:20:21.765-07:00Family PhotosIn my last post I talked about portraits and how I love painting them and I thought I would ask, "Do you have a favorite family photo?"<br />
Is it an old black & white photo of you as a kid? Or your family gathered for a special event? Or maybe you & your siblings dressed for Halloween or in your Christmas jammies opening packages? Or your parent's lovely wedding photo?<br />
Where do your treasured images live? Neatly displayed in a photo album only to be looked at once a year, or safely tucked away in a shoebox in the back of the closet shelf?<br />
I would love to create a hand painted oil portrait for you. Using your photo as reference, I will create a work of art to be treasured for generations.<br />
You can message me @ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MaryAnitaScarves">https://www.facebook.com/MaryAnitaScarves</a> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aFC-iCGzUF0/Vgq4rUxlaKI/AAAAAAAAApw/byTIgDkKsN8/s1600/cocoavery.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aFC-iCGzUF0/Vgq4rUxlaKI/AAAAAAAAApw/byTIgDkKsN8/s320/cocoavery.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avery and Coco<br />9"x12" oil on panel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zi2rviIRkAY/Vgq3_RKQM6I/AAAAAAAAApo/NHA5Qh4twxU/s1600/Emmapiano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zi2rviIRkAY/Vgq3_RKQM6I/AAAAAAAAApo/NHA5Qh4twxU/s320/Emmapiano.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emma<br />9"x12" oil on panel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-18015842867890383112015-08-28T16:10:00.003-07:002015-08-28T16:14:46.886-07:00Betty & CocoAs I mentioned in a previous post, I love painting portraits, especially those from unposed family photographs. Recently I received a commission from my daughter Sonja's partner Cortney to paint a portrait of Cortney's Grandmother Betty and Betty's beloved dog, Coco. The photo was lovely. It had been taken at a family picnic and I could feel the love connection between Betty & Coco.<br />
<br />
The completed painting was sent off to Betty. A few days later I received a photo of Betty holding the painting. Seeing the joy in Betty's face, I do not know how to describe how deeply touched I was. Still even writing this I feel such deep, deep gratitude that my creativity can bring another such joy. Thank you to you Cortney and to your family!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4d2yS2pPpA/VeDlWOSeArI/AAAAAAAAApA/5V_W_7VU5xI/s1600/bettycocopaint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4d2yS2pPpA/VeDlWOSeArI/AAAAAAAAApA/5V_W_7VU5xI/s320/bettycocopaint.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Betty & Coco 12"x9" oil on cradled panel</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2aqejVXK-QM/VeDlc8mIa7I/AAAAAAAAApI/1SnXOGroP2Q/s1600/bettycocophoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2aqejVXK-QM/VeDlc8mIa7I/AAAAAAAAApI/1SnXOGroP2Q/s320/bettycocophoto.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Betty with her painting.</div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-85684231734679723332015-08-07T11:59:00.000-07:002015-08-07T12:07:54.297-07:00Elephant KimonoI was commissioned by a client to create a kimono using a silk screened art piece she dearly loved.<br />
She had been given the Elephant artwork as a gift in the 1970's and through the years the silk fabric had begun to deteriorate a bit, but was still salvageable.<br />
<br />
Many many tiny stitches, and many, many large stitches later the kimono came together. She was very happy and I was very pleased!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gakrUxQTISU/VcT_L_ulUAI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/gcdYXg-VMOE/s1600/kimonofront.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gakrUxQTISU/VcT_L_ulUAI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/gcdYXg-VMOE/s320/kimonofront.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yfchz77wRFs/VcT_WcCeNNI/AAAAAAAAAnY/Za5xHQRGS5M/s1600/kimonoback.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yfchz77wRFs/VcT_WcCeNNI/AAAAAAAAAnY/Za5xHQRGS5M/s320/kimonoback.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20dqCQXyp_E/VcT_f-5vhXI/AAAAAAAAAng/UDxpijJXRUg/s1600/kimonosleeve.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-20dqCQXyp_E/VcT_f-5vhXI/AAAAAAAAAng/UDxpijJXRUg/s320/kimonosleeve.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bstjc7mu23U/VcT_sWDaFFI/AAAAAAAAAno/3b5uHjgmW7U/s1600/kimonoshoulder.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bstjc7mu23U/VcT_sWDaFFI/AAAAAAAAAno/3b5uHjgmW7U/s320/kimonoshoulder.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CFIsxemz6tw/VcT_1NqQ9bI/AAAAAAAAAnw/Fmngt8L4BR4/s1600/Kimonolabel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CFIsxemz6tw/VcT_1NqQ9bI/AAAAAAAAAnw/Fmngt8L4BR4/s320/Kimonolabel.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7mCdx9wosIQ/VcUBX2cHlMI/AAAAAAAAAn8/knu4dlJtBwM/s1600/kimonoclose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7mCdx9wosIQ/VcUBX2cHlMI/AAAAAAAAAn8/knu4dlJtBwM/s320/kimonoclose.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478462392278311035.post-88233786733250344562015-03-20T08:14:00.000-07:002015-03-20T08:14:59.724-07:00Welcome Spring!Today is the first day of Spring, and what a remarkable day it is! Not only is the season changing but the new season's beginning is being heralded with a total solar eclipse... WOW! Now how amazing is that?!<br />
And so I am celebrating this auspicious day by posting a wonderful new painting my friend Allie & I created celebrating friendship, new beginnings and love!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nBOxi6GeNBw/VQw2yN3mxLI/AAAAAAAAAjg/pHi0VIPECIo/s1600/Allie%2B%26%2BMary%2BHappy%2BSpring..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nBOxi6GeNBw/VQw2yN3mxLI/AAAAAAAAAjg/pHi0VIPECIo/s1600/Allie%2B%26%2BMary%2BHappy%2BSpring..jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome Spring! Allie & Mary's Art<br />
12" x 12" acrylic on canvas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />Mary Anita Winkleahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03328203718214521412noreply@blogger.com