Every Portrait Has A Story!

This morning after doing all of my morning chores I called Harley at seven forty-five to do his show. After telling him that James Dean was his Pet of The Week, and how great the cute  little one-year-old Chihuahua was Harley asks, "Cousin Nancy, are you watching us on the computer, because I have something to show you. Go get it and bring it in here." Here's a picture of James Dean.

"No, Harley, I'm not. Our internet just went down. What is it?"

"We rescued, well Sarah rescued a newborn, little goat whose mother died. Do y'all rescue goats?"

"Yes, we do, Harley," I said. "We rescued Buddy, a gigantic Nubian goat on Monday and yesterday we found a forever home for him...." As I told Harley about Buddy, Tony walks into the big room with his laptop in hand and shows me the cute little goat that Harley has in his studio. "Oh, Harley, she is adorable. Tony showed her to me on his computer."

"You want her? You want to bottle feed her?" Harley asked, then there was a little too long—moment of silence. Then he laughed. "What if we bottle feed her and you take her after she is weaned?"

"That sounds great! Maybe Charlie and Ellen would want her, so she could be Buddy's companion..." After we talked about that I changed the subject on Harley. "Guess what I am fixin' to do?"

"What?"

"I'm leaving here in thirty minutes for Club Ed's portrait class taught by the award winning artist, Joan Sullivan! I can't wait!"

"That's great Cousin Nancy, but why are you doing this?" Harley asked.

"It's another bucket-list deal," Then we started laughing. "It is something that I've always wanted to do."

"Now, I'm starting to worry about you," Harley said, which made me laugh. "What else is on your bucket-list?"

"I guess motorcycles," I answered. "And Club Ed has a class for that, too."

"You want to ride a motorcycle? Have you ever driven a motorcycle?" Then we started laughing, again.

"Yes, I have," I said. "When I was eighteen years old, I kept flunking my driver's license test, because I couldn't back up, so my sister Cindy loaned me her Honda 50 Automatic, that she had won in a radio contest. I had to get a license for it and I passed it, because I didn't have to back up. In fact, I still have my motorcycle license and am legal to drive a Harley, but that's never going to happen, because they are too big for me."

"So, what would you drive?" Harley asked. I started laughing, again.

"I guess a Mo-Ped or something like that..." Then Harley changed the subject on me. It was his turn.

"We're your ears burning yesterday?"

"No. Why?"

"Club Ed's Phil Houseal and I were talking about you. He's a great guy."

"I know. I really like Phil, too and I love Club Ed..." After the show ended I looked up at the Atomic Clock above the water cooler and realized that I had talked way too much, because I still had to find a portrait to use for Joan's class and print it out in color and in black & white. Ten minutes later I came out of my office with black and whites and color pictures, one of Tony and the one of me, that Phil Houseal took of me with new teeth. Ten minutes later, Buttermilk and I were on 16 heading for Kerrville, as I listened to The Harley Show.

Three minutes before our class began I met Joan Sullivan and she and I had a fun visit with two of her other students: Virginia aka Dina and Billie. Then we got out our watercolors, water, brushes and pictures that we brought to paint and the fun class began. After Joan suggested that I paint my portrait first and do Tone's later, she explained some basics about washes and techniques for portrait painting and then she passed out some supplies and instructed us what to do.

As our class began seriously working on their first portraits, I started laughing a lot at my portrait as it quickly progressed, because let's say, "I sort of over did mine to say the least." I even got Joan, Billie and Dina to laughing as I joked about my faster-piece artwork. 

As I admired and praised everyone's artwork but mine, my stomach started growling loudly, but  everyone pretended not to hear it. Finally, I burst out laughing and said, "Y'all, my stomach is growling and I am not hungry. I had a smoothie for breakfast and I guess that I should have also eaten a piece of toast with it."

An hour and a half later, as my artwork started to digress rapidly and literally take a nose-dive, my nervous stomach started to make even stranger, louder gurgling sounds, that would cause me to uncontrollably burst into loud laughter, which would then startle the artists and then make them start laughing. I was pretty embarrassed about it all, but I counted my blessings, that I didn't also have gas. 

When it was time for us to break for lunch I jokingly told Joan, "My self-portrait looks like I am a visitor from another planet and it is starting to scare me." Joan started laughing. "I mean, look at my teeth, nose, eyes, neck and..." Joan, a fellow Libra, who I really liked, laughed and then she looked at my picture and burst our laughing and so did I. "What can I do to fix it? I had promised to post it tonight if it wasn't goofy looking and it is goofier than h#@*. I could burn it?" After Joan studied it, without trying to laugh, she gave me a few suggestions on how to fix it. Then Buttermilk and I took off for Randy's & Lisa's Save Inn Restaurant.

On our way to the coolest restaurant in town I decided that I needed to over eat, because of my whining stomach. After I sat down at a table in the crowded place, Lisa came over and greeted me and a few minutes later I enjoyed another delicious meal at our friend's fine eatery and it made my stomach quit rumbling—thank goodness.

When I returned to my class I took Joan's suggestions to heart, but it didn't help, because I am not skilled or talented enough and I quickly realized that I am not meant to be a portrait artist—I'm supposed to paint mountains to remember and canyons to forget—not me.

Around two o'clock we had a nice surprise. Phil Houseal showed up at our class with his camera and then he started shooting us. "Cousin Nancy, your story that I wrote for Club Ed is going to be in next weeks "Community Journal" on Wednesday..." After talking to all of us he went outside and came back with a video camera and shot us again. Before Phil had left the building he had all of us laughing. Like Harley Belew at the Rose 99.9 likes to say, "Phil is one great guy." And I totally agree with him.

An hour later, after a very fun day, I packed up my art supplies and my pitiful, goofy looking self-portrait and then I sincerely thanked Joan Sullivan, who is an incredibly talented artist and instructor, who has now become a new friend and kindred spirit of mine, for a wonderful time and then I bid her and my friendly classmates adios and then Buttermilk took me home.

As Buttermilk drove me home I thought about Joan Sullivan, a woman who I so much admire for many reasons, my friendly classmates and Phil Houseal and what a wonderful time that I had today. I want to thank Phil and Joan for another great experience with Club Ed. I love y'all and thank you for enriching my life and I highly recommend Joan's art classes and Club Ed to everyone! They're the Best!

After telling T. how much fun I had had today in Joan's art class today and how much I had learned, but really needed to practice some more—I showed him my first attempt at a self-portrait which I have jokingly titled, "Ears, Eyes & Nose Need Doctoring Not To Mention The Hat..." 

When Tony looked at my first attempted self-portrait he bit his lower lip, as I had expected and he tried not to laugh, so green tea came flowing out of his nose which made me laugh out loud as he coughed,  choked and tears filled his eyes! After wiping the light green tea off of his face with a paper towel he nervously asked, "What does mine look like?"

"I'm doing yours tomorrow if I have time. And I can't wait! I promise that it will be much better than this one. I over did it on this one and..."

P.S. Billie's portrait of Abraham Lincoln turned out to be totally awesome and looked like an old photograph, as did Dina's portrait of her handsome grandson and Joan's forty-something son. 

Y'all have a great evening and keep laughing!