An Artful Life

   I became aware of art when I was very young. My father was a soccer fan and he helped organize a soccer team. They joined a league and met together in a club house out in the back yard. The club house was built onto our garage.

 The walls of the club house were covered with pastel drawings of scenes from "die Heimat", our German homeland. There were mountains, valleys, skiers, gnomes, and beautiful, voluptuous women. My father was a ladies man. The distant place called Deutschland became familiar to me because of the art of my father.

 Papa was always drawing in his spare time. With charcoal, oil, watercolors and of course the medium he was trained in, carving stone. I tried my hand at drawing but I wasn't patient enough to learn. When he died we gathered together the artwork and we were all surprised how much he had done.

This oil was one he did of me when I was four. We were one heart and soul for a while and I feel the love he had for his only little girl. He painted it from a picture which was a favorite of his.

   Most of his work was done in stone and plaster. He studied fine art for a while in Dresden, Germany but due to his lack of funds he came back home to apprentice as a stone mason. He owned two businesses carving gravestones while in Germany. There were slabs of stone everywhere around our yard. Granite, marble, limestone; our station wagon was ruined because of hauling stones.

Here is a newspaper clipping of his work on the Salt Lake Temple. He carved the suns, moons, and stars on the annex to the temple in the sixties. His hands were always rough but he could carve the finest detail.

   This is a marble nude which I have. I was the only one of my friends who had a water fountain nude statue in the front yard. I know his art embarrassed me. I didn't understand his desire to create perfection, whether the human body or the form of a bird. He was a complex man who I loved differently as I matured. He died when I was 24, I did not have many years with him.

   This is a bust of me at 20. I have carried this around with me for 38 years. My children colored in the teeth with marker when they were young. She had to be cleaned up and restored. These pieces have taught me to value art. I live with beautiful pieces of art. They greet me in the morning and they sustain me through teaching at the piano. They are often the last things I see before I go to bed. 

Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.  ~Twyla Tharp

A New Home

My favorite office supply store has a new home.

It is now in the old real estate office north of Subway. The red door is a good sign. If you are like me and love pens, post-it-notes, paper clips, ect., you may already have been to visit.

I use post-its for teaching all the time and I appreciate the great colors. Color is a big thing to me. Seeing colorful things around me just makes me happy.

There is a whole room for travel accessories, maps and books. And lately, there have been jig-saw puzzles for sale.

I am a bit of a snob about puzzles. I like thick cardboard and about 300-500 pieces. My Aunt Hanni would call me a fraud since she had 1000 piece puzzles going all the time. 

Here is one I put together before Christmas. But, I got sidetracked. The office store has what you need without going to the other side. I am always running out of printer ink at the last minute. Thank-you Essentials 4 for saving me.

My First Piano Adventures 6

My students seemed glad to be back at lessons after the winter break. Wendy the whale made a big splash this week

We tried to hold the last note to see how long we could hear it. The sound was as long as Wendy's tail.

A. listens and listens while the sound fades away. Wendy is a black note song. These pieces on the black notes help to promote a rounded hand position. Five to six year olds still have trouble coordinating their two hands. This can lead to frustration so creative reasons for repeating a song are helpful. "When we get to the end of the song lets give Wendy a short tail this time."

N. makes sure his two keys play at the same time. Wow, that means bringing 4 keys to sound all at once.

Everyone seems to love Shepard Count Your Sheep. Played with tenderness this piece is lovely. Here M. does a beautiful job.

Oh my, Old PigDonald made an appearance this week. Did D. still remember how to play that piece? Inviting stuffed friends can make an excellent reason to repeat, repeat, repeat. Little fingers can only learn how to relax when playing if they get to play often, hence, repeat.

You’ve likely heard about Amy Chua’s new book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.According to Mrs Chua, Westerners are lax on raising their children.  Here is a response to her book by a successful professional artist.

Artist J Kirk Richards- "I grew up in a musical home. Not practicing was not an option. My mom even wrote a book about her experiences raising eight musical children–how to get your children to practice (a book which has sold thousands and thousands of copies over the years.) Here’s my own list of things I will be eternally grateful to my parent’s for:

• making me practice even when I was kicking the piano–looking back it was a great way to learn discipline

• practicing with me until I was disciplined enough to practice on my own

• when I expressed a real interest in art at the age of 13, my parents didn’t let me quit music. they made me continue for another year to prove my interest in art wasn’t just a fleeting distraction.

• when the time came, they fostered my new interest by finding an art teacher to replace my music teacher

• my parents always encouraged me in my interests. when friends and their parents expressed doubts in my future as an artist, my parents were solidly supportive

• the whole time, my parents let me have a normal “Western” childhood (well, a normal childhood without an atari or a nintendo:))

Okay, so I’m not going to call my kid “fatty” or “lazy” in order to get them to perform, but there are three things I solidly agree with: 1. kids would rather play than work, 2. they won’t really know the joy of a discipline until they’re really good at it, 3. if they are ever going to be really good, parents have to provide motivation to get them through the hard times."

The Rhythm of My Day 5

Hello Everybody! My name is Miss Froggy and it is about time I was given some air time in Swingset Music and Movement.

The children love me and my beautiful long toes. I welcome them to class and distract them from other pursuits or from fears they may have. Do not underestimate the power of my eyes to engage and involve your children.

When I invite them to go down,

I love to see them reach down and follow me.

And when I go up their cute little arms reach high with me.

I have been teaching little human kids for a decade. I know, I know, it shows but Miss K. takes good care of me and I am always ready for class.

It is a pleasure to sing up and down the scales with you and your adorable children.
Ribbitt-Ribbitt........

Happy Birthday Miss M

Today is Miss M's 10th birthday. How time flies. I remember the day I took her out in the stroller and talked to her about life. I told her that she was my first grandchild and I did not know how to be a Grandma, but I assured her that God had given me a large measure of love for her and I didn't think it would be too hard. 

Miss M. has quite an imagination. Very early on I could  invent a situation and she was always ready to come aboard. My favorite little story starter was when we named the woods behind their house the Hundred Acre Woods. We always packed a little something before setting out on our "exposition". In the woods we would find Piglet's house, Rabbit's house, Pooh's corner and it amazed me how Miss M. reclaimed these exact spots on each visit.

Our all time favorite game has been, "What is Missing". Find a collection of small things and lay them on the ground. Hide your eyes and someone takes something away. Then open tour eyes and discover what is missing.

I made up stories when Miss M was small. She would sit enraptured for a long time and then upon the re-telling would correct my obvious errors. She can remember everything if you attach it to a plot line.

When she learned to read life opened up for her. Books could transport her to countless new places. It was common for Miss M. to begin a telling in the middle and assume I had read her book as well. I began explaining that I had no context for her narration. Unperturbed she would press forward until after a while I started to follow the story.

Gone are the chubby cheeks but the smile is still the same and the extra loud "Grandma" declaration when I appear at her door is as vibrant as ever. Now she wants to talk about make-up and stylish clothes so a new beginning has emerged and soon I will be the Grandma of a teenager. Happy Birthday Miss M. You are loved!!!! 

Back on the floor again at the Yoga Center

I took a really delicious yoga class yesterday. It has been a long time since I have taken class at the Yoga Center. Two years ago I was a regular on this floor. I took some time away from classes to develop my own yoga practice and then Jen started practicing with me. She invigorated my thinking and kept me practicing at home.

The class yesterday was taught by Nicole. It felt great doing her practice, so rejuvenating. Having a teacher always gives me new ideas to mull over in my head. I listened to her talk about the breath as the vehicle to move from the outer body to the inner landscape. Coming to the breath, or being attentive to the breath, opens the way to be connected with the spirit within. I find that when my mind is distracted by the ebb and flow of breath it becomes quiet, then add to that a quiet body and finally the spirit can rise up and speak peace. That is the language my spirit speaks; "be still and know that I am God."

         I will be spending time there on Tuesday mornings. There are lovely people in class; all with different bodies and different smiles.

So I declare March yoga month. 

Time to walk through this door and prepare to connect spirit to body.

After class I can watch the little bustling town I live in. It is a really good place.

Painting of the Month

I am so happy to share the painting of the month with you. Our artist friend Karen Dale allowed us to form a Painting of the Month Club. For a small fee we get to take home one of her oil paintings each month. I wrote about our December painting which was the Three Pears.

We really loved that one. All month I thought about the number three and the symbolism attached to that number. Do you see the smile on the middle ones cheek?

In January the Pears were replaced by the Persimmons and Crockery.

More muted in color, this still life was so refined. A still life has the effect of slowing down my energy so that I feel the moment it is capturing. I try to be more "in the moment" and looking at a painting is like looking at time standing still. (That sounded redundant)

In February, Karen called and asked us to take her newest painting. It was still drying but she needed time away from her "baby" to get perspective.

I photographed it in the natural light, with sun coming in through my front window but not on the painting. I love the narly stuff on the pumpkin.

Here is the same painting photographed with a spotlight. I thought the natural light from the sun deepened the color. Sunlight is so wonderful. I really miss it today. You know, there is a special sunlight moment coming up in April. Twice a year, Spring and Fall, sunlight comes through the small windows of my front door and falls right on a painting above my piano. The angle of the sun frames the picture perfectly for about three days in the afternoon. I will try to get a picture of that this year. Visual art is really important to my soul. When I teach at the piano I often steady my gaze at these lovely paintings, enjoying the color, the mastery of detail, the light and shadow, and the brush strokes which testify that a mere mortal has captured life itself.