Roger's Race Car

18 x 24" Acrylic
(Click to enlarge)

We went to LymeRock Park in Lakeville, CT (where Paul Newman used to race) last month to see Terry's brother, Roger, race one of his Porsches. Supposedly he is retiring after a race in Daytona in November, where all of his brothers and sisters (a family of eight kids) will get together all at once for the first time ever seeing him race. So the race at LymeRock was significant in that it was the last race we'd see, visiting him alone.

Over the past few years, we have seen Roger race several times, and he would always get us passes to drive down into the paddocks and park with the race car drivers. Of course, we would putt in with our little Miata and park behind the big rigs but then we would go off wandering around and no place was off limits to us. We felt special, somewhat important, even though all we did was hang out. In Louden we got to meet Carl Edwards at a Silver Crown race, Roger was partners with him. Now that more people know who Carl Edwards is, that's kinda cool 'cuz he's a really nice guy.

So, we have enjoyed the time we spent with Roger, enjoying his hobby, and we wanted to do something to commemorate the last race we went to alone and let him know how much we enjoyed and appreciate all he did for us. He is a very generous soul and this is so small and insignificant in comparison.

I painted this picture of Roger passing another car (Ronnie Randall, another driver and former business acquaintance of ours) from a combination of pictures taken at Lime Rock in a part of the track called the "Esses". This was the vantage point we had though we were a bit higher up and further away in the infield spectator area. The countryside in the Berkshires is beautiful. The weather that weekend was perfect. The colors on Roger's car are so much fun (his is the blue and green one). I truly enjoyed painting this and I hope he enjoys it for many years.

Thank you, Roger.

OK. I am waiting for inspiration.

Waiting for Inspiration
8 x 10" Gouache
(Click to enlarge)

Last night I came home, threw on my pjs and cuddly soft robe, grabbed my gouache, brushes and paper and plopped into my favorite chair. I don't usually paint sitting in front of the tv, with no good lighting, but I decided since I don't do needlepoint or knit like some do to be "productive", I would sketch with paint. And so I did. And this was my view. My feet. Occasionally Cleo would jump in there, drape herself across my legs trying to block my view, but with enough nudging and wiggling and bouncing my knees she eventually moves. Later, on another painting, it became a game for her to bat at the brush, so that's when I decided to put it away and go to bed.

Have you ever waited around for inspiration to hit? Then one day realized hours, days, months, years have past?

We recently visited Norman Rockwell's museum in Stockbridge, MA. (whoa, I just now realized I have been abbreviating Maine lately as MA... and not ME... argh...) Anyway, down in Massachusetts. It had been several years since we were there last, and things were moved around a bit and some things changed... but there still was a LOT to look at. His work amazes me. He was not considered a "real" artist in his time, but his following has been (and still is if the crazy amount of people visiting the museum was any indication!) tremendous. Kinda like Thomas Kincade, he has a lot of followers though I and a few others I know don't consider him a real artist, but instead a great marketing person. I'm not saying his stuff is not pretty, but it all looks alike and to me is tedious to look at. In fact it bugs me to look at it. Maybe this is how it was for Norman Rockwell in his day. Maybe someday I shall appreciate Thomas Kincade.

This is what Wikipedia has to say about Rockwell: "dismissed by serious art critics in his lifetime. Many of his works appear overly sweet in modern critics' eyes, especially the Saturday Evening Post covers, which tend toward idealistic or sentimentalized portrayals of American life - this has led to the often-deprecatory adjective "Rockwellesque." Consequently, Rockwell is not considered a "serious painter" by some contemporary artists, who often regard his work as bourgeois and kitsch." Yep, like Kincade of today.

Anyway, I walked through the museum in amazement, looking at every brush stroke, ever detail, every nuance. It half inspired me to strive to do better as an artist and return to the detail I once did in my work... and yet it half discouraged me by my realizing how much of an artist I really am not and can never seem to achieve.

(Click to enlarge)

(If you've ever seen his work in person, you know that each of Rockwell's paintings are HUGE. Most are over 3' tall ... and then reduced to the size of a magazine cover. Also, it appears he had no trouble with inspiration. In his career he produced over 4000 paintings. That really IS inspiritus - Spirit breathed - INSPIRED.)

So here I sit. I've painted a few other paintings since my last posting, but have not posted them. Maybe I will soon. Right now I will sit, decide what I want to do, and await inspiration.