For my dear red-sneakered Chuckles, I am responding to some questions he has asked me. It is part of a meme that he has over at his blog. He asked for volunteers, and I was game for it! ::thinking about that:: I must have been experiencing a high fever at the time. ::grin::
Okay, here are his questions, followed by my answers.
1. Your art is therapeutic, expressive, thoughtful, and fun, at turns. When do you think that you produce your best art?
When I least expect it. Yep. I never have any idea what will be decent and what will be filed in my WTF IS THIS folder. I probably do the best when I do not overanalyze the beginning of it. I tend to be a perfectionist and used to trying to be so exact. I am slowly learning to loosen up. Happy, sad, mad, bad moods do not seem to affect the painting in any different ways. I think because the painting process itself is good for my soul.
2. What is your favorite medium for expressing yourself?
Eek! Asking me a FAVORITE? I do not think I have one. I like all that I have used; however, there is a freedom I feel when using pastels that I do not get with watercolors and acrylics. Yet, this new abstract series I did was wildly exciting for me, and I used hydrus watercolors to create them.
3. Your dad had a job that kept him on the road for a number of months every year, and featured a number of intensely busy times. At the same time, he is your, and your sisters', hero. How did he balancehis work life with his home life? If he had the same job now, would he be able to be the same father to you?
Quite simply, the man never missed a single event the four of us girls had. He was there for our piano recitals, father/daughter functions, school performances, etc. The Sundays when he was home, we went to church, to the bakery, and then he would take the four of us on special outings like miniature golfing or fishing or just rides along the river. We would go out to dinner on Sundays fairly often, too. Nice restaurants. On our birthdays, the birthday girl had a "date with Daddy." Only the two of them. The birthday gal chose whatever restaurant she wanted, and that was where the two went. Oh, how I loved those special dinners. It was grand to be all alone with him. Not having to share him with anyone else. He knew how to let each one of us know how much we mattered to him.
If he had the same job now, he would still be able to be the same father to us. He would keep no job that would have disallowed it. We were THAT important to him.
Not long before his death, I sat next to him one nite. He was quite ill and was sound asleep. I did not want to leave him. I roamed down the hall to the nurses' station and asked if I could look through his chart. The nurse gave it to me, and I took it back to his room to sift through it. And I read something that I will never forget. It was from a questionnaire that was read to him when he first entered the nursing home, and he supplied the answers. One of the questions asked what he felt was his greatest accomplishment in his life. His answer? His four daughters.
My hero, indeed.
4. How did your mother manage not to go insane?
Hey, she had four adorable daughters to keep her sane! Wait. That should have pushed her over the edge, huh? Mom is a very strong but gentle woman. She is a lady above all, and she was never one to berate or shout at us. She was easygoing enough to handle the times when Daddy was out of town. She also had a strong network of friends that she is still close to today. She was a member in bridge clubs, charity groups, etc., and I think spending time with her peers was a good outlet for her. She is a wonderful woman.
5. You don't often speak of your husband in your blog. This leaves us all wanting to know more about him. Tell us of one annoying but cute habit that he has.
The hubby does read all of my blog/journal entries; however, he is not a big fan of the Internet. Chalk it up to the looney tunes he knows thrive in the online environment under the veil of anonymity.
He is a good man who has excellent morals and values. Very busily involved in church and choir and a Christian rock group. Which leads up to the annoying but cute habit he has. ::shudder:: He plays a mean guitar. He can and does read music, but he usually picks up the chords just by ear. And when he is learning a song, he will play portions...portions, mind you...over and over until I want to scratch out his eyes. It is like hearing the same drip from a leaky faucet again and again. By the time he has learned the entire song, I hate it from hearing the segments repetitively played. (Well, sometimes.)
There, my friend...did I do you proud?
If anyone would like to be the subject of my interrogation, please let me know!
"Who questions much, shall learn much, and retain much." ~Sir Francis Bacon
Run your fingers through my soul~
