Old Art and Sketches.

I have been working on a webpage for my artwork, and realized that I don't have old work to show. I found all of my old sketchbooks, and some paintings hanging around and took photo's of them. Some of these are really old… from 1998 on up to 2005.  I was all over the place…I had no idea what to draw, or what a theme was. Everyone else had something… I don't know why it took me this long to just stick with animals and horses. It's all over my sketchbooks, but were awful! It took me a really long time to learn how to draw a horse. 

A picture taken of me at Tyler School of Art. Oh to be young and free with no idea what school debt was. This was my ignorant phase of life. 

A landscape sketch of the countryside in Burwash, England where I lived for a whole summer in high school. 1998.  

A homework assignment for Grad School. "Draw your room in perspective"  2006-2007.

A homework assignment for an Illustration class I took, first attempts of using a real fountain pen… what a mess that was. Ink on Paper. 2004.

An attempt to draw a baby. Pencil drawing in my sketchbook for high school. 1999. 

Another pen and charcoal attempt at drawing sheep. 2004

a pen and pencil drawing study I did in High School.  1998. 

A sketch I did of my Physics teacher in High School. Most boring man I have ever met.  1998.

First attempt at using illustration markers. I wanted to see if I could illustrate something scary. 2006.

A study of a model I did in High School. Pencil in a sketchbook. 1998.

A study of a dried up rose. Pencil in a sketch book. 1998.

A pen and ink drawing for an illustration class. 2006.

A pen and ink drawing I did of my dads dog Chelsea in high school when I was in my R.Crumb phase. 1998.

Tyler School of Art Painting. "The Asylum" Oil on Canvas. 2006.

Oil on Canvas painting I did in Art School. 2007.

Oil Paint on Canvas done in Art School when I was going through my Thomas Kincade phase. "The Day Dream" 2006.

Oil on Canvas painting of my Childhood summer home. "Toad Hall". 2007.

Horse Portraits and Equine Art

The cartoons are, and were all, well and good…but I was disappointed in my drawing style. I thought I would take some time out and get back to the basics of drawing by doing some studies of animals. I forgot that I could draw…. and was surprised that with age comes patiences. I never had that before… but now I have the time and my drawing style has greatly improved.

I have started to do animal and horse portraits. I am starting to receive some commissions. Each of these drawings take me about five hours, but I'm pleased with the way they have turned out.

"Loafie" was done using Watercolor, Marker, Pencil, and Pen. It is 8.5 x11. 

This is Loafie or "The Best Life" racing before he retired. The owner loves her champion horse and wanted a portrait done of him in his glory days.

Drawing from a photograph is very easy… so if you have a picture of a pet that you would like a drawing or painting of contact me.

 e.aaron.designs@gmail.com

Here is another commission I did for  Stephanie at SLM Dressage. She sent me a photo of her and her horse "Obilix". This was done using Watercolor, marker, pen and pencil. 8.5x11.

This is the photo I used to do the portrait above.

Here is a commission I did for a lady that wanted a sketch of her paint pony "Prince", she asked me to add his nameplate into the photo. It was done using Watercolor, Pencil and Pen. It is 8.5 x11 on card stock paper.

Here is the photo of Prince that was sent to me. 

A study of a pig wearing boots.

Study of a "Dales Pony"  face and hair.

Study of line, shading, and horse hair, foreshortening etc….


Pricing:
Option A: Drawing or light watercolor on archival paper
$50 for an 8 x10 drawing or water color like the ones above.
- send me a photo of what you want done
   -or-
- I will come to you and photograph your vision

Photography:
Local: free of charge
Long Distance: Gas charge only will be added to artwork.

Option B: Painting on Canvas or Board
$10 an hour for anything bigger requiring special mediums such as oils, watercolor, acrylic, pastels or pencil.

Option C: Prints and Framing
$25 for a print size 8x10 of any of the above.
Pricing varies:
Professional prints on archival paper going up to 24" x36" and framing also available.

"I hate you!"

My three year old son has decided that his favorite word is "hate". He uses it all the time, and each time it makes me cringe. The worst of all is when he tells me at least thirty times a day "I hate you mommy!" pointing his tiny finger at me and scowling like an evil gnome.

It takes every bit of my energy not to take it so personally. When he says these things to me I immediately envision myself picking him up by the back of his shirt and punt kicking his ass out the door for someone else to deal with. But instead, I calmly tell him not to use that word because it is hurtful to my feelings, and is not a nice thing to say.

This tactic has not worked, and it's been about two weeks of consistent hate words flying out of his nasty little toddler mouth every half hour. Enough is enough, I can't take it anymore.

So I resorted to a story, that got a wee bit weird and out of hand…. (even for me).

I had just finished taking the boys to the park, mcdonalds, and shopping, and they were good… until Watts saw the plane ride at the store was actually working with a child in it… "Mommy! look it works! You said it was broken! I want to go on it"

"nope- sorry. no time now, look at that kid, he is having no fun, it's still broken, the ride barely moves, you are having a better ride in this shopping cart- which is free, and doesn't make an irritating noise that makes mommies ears hurt"

So I put him in his car seat, with the little legs kicking…. the whining starts up…. and out comes the pointed finger… "I HATE YOU MOMMY!"

Right…. well… that was it.

So I calmly climbed into the drivers seat, and began my story, that went a little like this…..

"Wattsy…. I have told you not to say the word "hate". He cuts me off…. "Well I DO HATE YOU!"
Well…. that's fine. You can hate me… but there is a place for children that hate their mommies. It's called the Troll House.

"The Troll House?" "What is the troll house?"

"Well since you hate me, I suppose it would be best for you to go somewhere else to live…. somewhere that has no mommies… since you hate me and all. This is a place where children that hate their parents go. The troll house is right down that road there"…. and I point out the window at a street that I know Watts has never been on.

"I want to go to the troll house!"

"Oh..I chuckle... I don't think you will like it there…. you see- the trolls aren't like me or daddy who take you nice places, feed you your favorite foods, give you hugs and kisses, give you warm baths, and love you.... no no…. the trolls are different"

"Different?"

Watts is now very interested in my story, and I am trying desperately not to take this down a dark road, but I do make it as scary as possible without scaring him for life. I start thinking of all the things I know he hates….

"Well…. the trolls put children in cages, and leave them in the cages all day. They don't get to play, or watch cartoons… in fact they are forced to watch the NEWS. and…. they don't get snacks… they get the same meal every single day. Broccoli and Water. And…. it gets worse. They don't have diapers… so you will be forced to poop on the potty."

Watts looks thoughtful for a moment.

"I hate trolls! I will kill them with my sword!"

"but you won't have a sword, because you won't have anything… no toys, nothing to play with… nothing to kill the trolls with... Just a plate of broccoli and a cup of water… and a potty. which will sit in your cage"

He is still thinking about all of this…..
"I don't want to go to the troll house"

"Well that will be easy… you just have to stop saying the word "hate"… and be nice to me, daddy and James, we love you very much and wan't you to live with us forever, but only if you love us too"

"Ok, I will be nice to you mommy, I don't want to live at the troll house"

So since then…. we have gone all day without the word hate….and he has been much better to me.
Till about an hour ago… he told James (his little brother) that he hated him, and threw his favorite toy in the trash can.
So to remind Watts…. I drew him a picture of what the troll house looked like.
He watched me draw it… and as he asked questions like "Is there a phone to call home?" I would draw a phone…. "Is there a door to escape?" I would draw a door… but would put a lock on it… It was fun, and he was really into it.
He asked all sorts of questions, but was more interested in killing them…. with a sword.
He really hates the trolls. Which in my mind is ok.
The Troll House should be something to hate.
I drew all the things he actually hates in the world… and put them into one picture.
Now he knows what the word means.

Children's Book.

A few people have urged me to write a children's book. "You have all the stories in your blog, the book is there"

The thought makes me cringe. After several attempts to try new things, I have failed 99% of the time. I have learned not to invest money into my talents, and to climb the ladder one step at a time, very very slowly. Three steps is about as high as I have gone so far. I'm scared of heights, and success.

Ugh… this is useless… one of the boys has locked himself in his room. I can't even think STRAIGHT! How am I going to write a book if I can't even type this sentence!

Be right back….. kid needs rescuing from his room.

Thank you "Minions", Snacks  and Juice Cups… I can now get back to what I was saying. I even had time to switch over the laundry which included one wooden block, my husbands fishing license, and my mothers slipper. My brain might be in there too, but it's too small to find.

Anyway,
Children's books….
Another problem I have with writing a children's book is that there are MILLIONS of them… mostly ripped and colored on in my house. Every topic has been exhausted. Not to mention that I'm pretty sure people have stopped buying books. All the books we have were handed over from other grubby kids. I have never bought a book for my children.
That sounds terrible. I'm a horrible person.

Yet…. it didn't hurt me to look into the process. Which quickly became overwhelming, and daunting. Guess how much one book costs to print on average? $12-$25. On top of this, most authors invest a few grand into their books. With maybe a $500 payment back if they are good. So what is the point?

My kids have no interest in me, why should others? The whole idea is nonsense. It's a lot of work, and it costs way too much money. Plus the time, and effort to illustrate, and write, and edit, and… yuck.

Yet…. I suppose I could publish one on my blogger…. and then you…. the reader could let me know if it sucked. Who am I kidding. No one reads this blog.

Ok well that was my thought pattern. I'm done thinking about it. All the odds are entirely not in my favor.

Oh Mr Art, and Miss Creativity, how you kill me so. I wish I had been born with math skills, and an attention span to cure cancer instead of this nonsense and useless, money pit of a hobby.

"Oh…. I wish I could draw!"
That comment always pisses me off.

In my mind I scream…  "AND THATS WHY YOUR RICH!"

I'll stick to making greeting cards. It's easy, the cost is not exorbitant, and it is a great way to see if people like me… if they... really really like me, and my sick twisted humor.

And then maybe I will try taking a few steps up that ladder. But right now, I'm wearing a parachute… with holes in it.
Which coincidentally matches the holes in my pockets.

In the meantime, enjoy my mood with me… here is a quick sketch of a cartoon I did. My dad didn't like it…. (we can't always be happy daddy. We just can't).

This is a dead dear on the side of the road with a "Get Well" balloon tied to it's leg because the little girl thought it was just sick. How bout that for a children's story?  Bambie never woke up because it jumped in front of a car and that's why you should look both ways before crossing the road. It's a start, I can really feel the millions rolling in now. 

Cartooning

I was at Michaels the other day looking for some art supplies for my kids. As I browsed the art section, goosebumps sprung up on my arms… the smell of paper, crayons, and paints quickly gave me flashbacks to a younger me shopping for new paints for art school. I couldn't help myself. I bought a new notebook and some water color pencils. The cheapest I could find… thinking…that maybe I would do some quick doodles while the kids play.

My dad is always begging me to sketch out the stories I tell him on the phone at night. "Do me a favor and draw that…. it would make for a lovely illustration"

So I did… I drew something… and was done in 20 minutes. Pleased with the results I posted it to my Facebook page. The photograph came out much better then the drawing, popping the colors, and giving it a nice professional look. After that I was on a roll.

My dad would call and tell me to keep going. He was my ultimate cheerleader, telling me that what I had was such a talent, and that there is something that I did to those drawings that was unique. My dad was just being my dad…. everything I do is great. I know this.

Alas, it was fun, and it was keeping me sane. I decided to start a series of cartoons of animals doing people things. It was easy to come up with ideas with the help of my husband who finds animals doing people things hysterical.

I went a step further and asked my local tack shop if they would post my work on their Facebook page. They wrote back asking if they were for sale.

Soon I was there showing off my sketches, and made a deal to make some greeting cards to sell at the store. It's a start.

My work will be for sale at the Tollbooth Saddle Shop in about two weeks.
I have chosen a few sketches to be printed on greeting cards with funny sayings with the inside saying "Get Well" "Happy Birthday" "Congratulations" etc. Plus a few mugs…

I've invested about $40 so far… if my work sells… I think I will take it a step further and submit to magazines, and go to horse shows to open a booth. I could sell T-shirts, mugs, tote bags, you name it, I can have it made.

Here are a few items that will be printed up.
Enjoy.

Doc, I can't take it anymore. They put me in a coffin with wheels, put corn rows in my hair, made me dance in front of strangers. Don't even get me started on the chair they tie to my back. I look stupid. I quit. I just can't! 

Resume for Dog
 Objective: Looking for messy kids, willing to clean floors, counters, and tiny hands of all crumbs and scraps. 

"Snickers, I really enjoyed that stunt you pulled today where you stood in the middle of the ring and refused to go. Trainer was sure mad at you and yet you still got sugar cubes at the end of the lesson!" 

Accidents Happen. Get Well Soon! 

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

"Bubbles was tired of giving pony rides"
Happy Birthday! 

A true love story

Love… such a complicated emotion, it is a necessity in life to love something, or someone to truly be happy.

This story is true,  I will change only the names of the people I will be telling the story about.

In the late 50's an english nurse in her 20's by the name of Rose lived in England and  was called to the United States to work in a hospital. She packed her bags and sailed across the Atlantic on The Queen Elizabeth II to start her life in America. She left everything behind; her family, friends, and familiarity.

Once she had settled into her new home she was given an assignment to work as a private nurse for an ALS patient who was a mother of six. She got to know the family very well, and they welcomed her with open arms and pretty soon; she was part of the family.

She left on vacation to go back to England and while there, she drove all around Europe with her boyfriend Ken. She loved him, they had a wonderful time together, he was the kindest man she had ever met… but her life was in America.

She came home to chaos. The ALS patient had some complications while Rose was away and passed away two days later, leaving the husband and children of six in ruins.

Shortly after, more family members passed away, the husband of the ALS patient being one of them. For Rose and the family it was a nightmare. It was a month of mourning. The oldest son had taken a liking to Rose, and began courting her.  She ended her relationship with her boyfriend in England and married the oldest son with a deal that after one year, if it doesn't work out, Rose would leave and go back to England. True love, not really…the trauma of that family is what brought them together.

Twenty five years of marriage, with three children, through good time's and bad…. Rose found herself with a husband that lied and cheated on her. He left her for another woman. She was never the same. She was an innocent woman that had never been hurt or lied to by anyone ever. She was heart broken. The blow was catastrophic to Rose. She spent the next 18 years alone, hating herself, with a low self esteem and mild case of depression. Finding a new man to keep her company was the last thing she wanted. She was hurt, and scared to move on and trust someone new. Rose would sit outside at night by herself looking out at the night sky…

One night she received a phone call from her brother. Ken was there, on vacation, and wanted to speak to her. After an hour of speaking to Ken, she hung up the phone with a head full of questions. Ken's wife had just passed away of cancer six months ago. He was going to travel, and was looking for a traveling companion and asked Rose if she would like to join him. She immediately thought that she was too old to go and do things like that… her life was still in America raising her grand children and helping her daughter around the house. She thought that he would soon be after the younger women, after all that's what men do when they lose a wife…they wait, and find something newer and younger to play with. Her mind was tainted by what her ex husband had done to her.

Rose's daughter saw something different in her. A woman that still had life in her, and was wasting it on her back porch watching the night sky alone. Rose was like an abused horse afraid to be touched by a human hand again. So, with much persistence, the daughter slowly started to work her magic and guided her mother to find love once again.

First step was email exchange. Rose and Ken quickly got to their iPads and would write tiny notes to each other. The title of the email: Romance. Rose would check her email every morning and walk away with her coffee in hand, some color in her cheeks, and a school girl smile. The "romance" was working.

After a few weeks of emails Rose was getting nervous. "I'm too old for this!" she would say. Rose couldn't sleep, and the daughter would be persistent in urging her mother to just let it happen…and quickly gave her a makeover. The new hairdo, wardrobe, and manicure helped, with lots of pep talk and positive ways to look at the situation.

The daughter quickly reminded rose that she was wasting her life watching her raise the kids. The 30's are a slow time in life…how the daughter envied Rose for her new found freedom to get up and go anywhere in the world with not a care in the world. She had no bills to pay, no mortgage, no kids to feed, no animals to look after. There was nothing holding Rose back... except herself. Rose would nod, and agree but her eyes were still filled with worry, and skepticism. She was afraid of being hurt again.

Next step was to get Rose across the pond to see Ken. Both were excited but nervous to see each other again after 40 years. They both complained of looking much older, and feeling nervous. Days flew by and after a month of communication with Ken, the plane ticket was booked. The daughter dropped Rose off at the airport with a final word of "CALL ME!"

Once in England, Rose stayed at her sisters house. The daughter emailed her Aunt and Nieces to find out how her mom was doing. They all confirmed the same thing, she was magically happy, and had never seen her like this.  Everyday, Ken would come to the house to pick Rose up and take her for a spin around the country side, have some lunch, dinner and then would drop her off in the evenings. The two were enchanted with each other.

Finally, the daughter got the magic phone call from Rose. "I am so happy!, I love him!" Rose exclaimed. For the first time ever the daughter could hear a smile in her mothers voice. She sounded younger, with energy…and wanted to stay longer.

At the age of 75, Rose had found love, (although it was there the whole time). She had always loved Ken, and he had always loved Rose. They picked right up where they left off in the early 60's. Age didn't matter, looks didn't matter. They were together again driving through the country side together, laughing and loving once again.

True love will always stay in the heart. Time doesn't affect it, nor do appearances. It's all about heart and soul. It's unstoppable. Life is short. Follow your heart, (and listen to your daughters.)

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies" -Aristotle.

Sacrifice and Dreams.

Yesterday my family and I were sitting at the patio table outside eating dinner. Watt's my three old was done eating his dinner, had gotten up from the table and was standing in his tractor that he drives around. He pointed directly at my husband and said " I'm going to poop in your food!"

My husband turns bright red, almost chocking on his dinner and starts to cry with laughter. What a ridiculous thing to say to someone… After we were done wiping tears from our eyes, my son flips around and drives off in his tractor. Three year olds are strange little beings.

Meanwhile, my one year old still refuses to use English as his first language and when he does manage to muster a word out, he speaks as if he's deaf. I'm not too worried about it because somehow he conveys what he wants through grunts and a shake of the head. He is a loving little pig that destroys everything in his path, but is smart as a button and loves like an angel

So those are my kids… that I spend most of my day with, while also juggling a stay at home job as an Interior Designer and Business Developer for an Architecture Firm, and an animal care giver.

The animal care giving may be the hardest tasks for me to juggle at the moment. Finding two hours a day to sneak out to ride, or groom my horse may be one of the most selfish things I can do. I feel guilty for enjoying myself with my horse Raven… I could spend all day out there with her…. honestly, all day. I will always find myself just standing at the gate looking at her beauty watching her walk…. I want to sit in the field with her and watch her take a nap. I'm completely smitten by her.

Meanwhile, my two sons are with my mother destroying the house and driving her blinking insane.

Today the ultimate test came my way. A random email showed up….asking me… no offering me a training job to start a riding school. The email was from the owner… she has an eight stall barn, owns two horses, has a riding ring, a round pen… 16 acres…. and all she wants is for me to take it over and run a summer camp and a riding academy. I re-read the email about forty times, looked up to see where it was… an hour and a half one way…. of course. I forwarded the email to my husband. He wrote back. "Seems a little too far" that was it. Hopes and dreams done- can't take the job because it would take up too much time and money to drive back and forth while raising a family and taking care of my own animals.

I couldn't help myself…. I checked out other horse related jobs…. a ton of jobs all over the place…. offering dream after dream of hard work and dedication worth of valuable lessons and skill sets. All of them… too far away or would take up too much time away from the boys… one after the other was a dream come true…. only to hear in the background my reality… granny yelling at the boys "Stop it! I'm tired, owwww that hurts, stop hitting me, no biting, ugh where is your MOTHER?!"

And so I snapped shut my lap top…. rushed to get some juice and a banana while shoving my hopes and dreams under the bed in my brain.

I just have to think about poop in my food….. to make it all worth while.
"I will poop in your food!" Wattsy said while pointing at my husband.

That…. is worth my time in gold.
A true bout of hysterical laughter…
A great dinner with my family.
And happy kids.

My dreams can wait. Right now I'm sure I am living a dream that will only last a second.