Tag: Watercolor Artist

The Grand Theatre Watercolor Painting By The GYPSY

The Artist Life: The Grand

Art Takes On Many Forms. Some Art Creates Magic Memories.

Once upon a time there was a quaint little village called Topeka in an enchanted land known as Kansas.

The village of Topeka was not remarkable as villages go. The native Topekan’s were friendly people who took care of the needs of their village. Working hard from sunrise to sunset the people of the village had little to entertain them.

One day a powerful Magician visited the village and saw that the hard working Topekan’s needed some way to relax and re-energize their spirit. Picking a large Sunflower from a local field the Magician waved it in the air and in the middle of the village appeared a Grand Palace; a magical and wondrous place.

Brightly colored carpets led to sparkling glass and chrome counters which displayed the most wonderful treats the villagers have ever seen. There were Sweets and Sours, Corn Light as Air and Drinks in all Colors of the Rainbow, Ice that had been Creamed and Beans of Jelly were the delights that the Villagers could partake in.

Within its blue walls lit by orange lights the Topeka Villagers could relax in cool darkness on velvet thrones. Within the soothing shadows the Magician would shine his lantern on velvety, gold gilded curtains that reached to a ceiling so high above that the top of it could barely be seen by the Topekan’s below. And as the lantern illuminated the Grand Curtain it would slowly part and reveal behind it’s secret folds a silvery land wherein the most talented of performers dwelled. There were Nuns who Sang, Eunuchs who Jest, Spies who Dance and Cowboys who Croon. There were Monsters and Madmen, Bears and Mermaids, Kings and Queens, Hero’s and Villains and all would entertain for a small offering of only a couple of shinning tokens.

For years this Magical Grand Palace gave the Villagers of Topeka in the land of Kansas a place to escape and renew their soul yet time moves on and the Magician grew old. For you see the magician stayed young from feeding on the energy of the laughter, the tears, the ooh’s and the ah’s, thrills and chills. Yet the villagers of Topeka forgot to feed the Magician.
As the Magician withered away and died so too did the Grand Palace until one day all the magic disappeared and so did the place that had captured that magic.

The villagers of Topeka scarce noticed that the marvelous Grand Palace was disappearing until it was gone. Then, on that day that the last brick of the magical place was wiped from the earth forever they bemoaned the loss, swearing to never let another Palace as Grand as that one had been disappear from the village ever again.

So it is that the resourceful Topekans strive to keep another Magical Palace alive for within it’s walls lives a strange and rare creature known as a Jayhawk. The villagers have learned that to keep the magic alive you must feed the creator of the spell and they have vowed to feed the Jayhawk.

Yet never again will there be a Palace as Grand as that which was lost to all except those that remember the magic it shared.

-The GYPSY-

Yeso, New Mexico Watercolor Painting By The GYPSY

The Artist Life: Things To Know About Ghost Towns

Ghost Towns Offer Unlimited Creative Opportunities For The Artist and Photographer

Yeso, New Mexica Ghost Town Photograph

Yeso, New Mexico Watercolor Painting By The GYPSY

VISITING A GHOST TOWN CAN INSPIRE YET YOU MUST SHOW RESPECT

I have always had a fascination with ghost towns. I have a deep desire to know their story. How was the town born? What was it like in it’s prime? What caused it to die? And why does it’s ghost linger on long after the town is gone?

As an artist my eye sees beyond the decay. I see the remaining color, the shapes and the textures. Oh those textures! I smell the scents of the town; secret deep scents that still linger long after the last barber gave his last shave. Long after the last Thanksgiving Turkey was cooked. Those scents linger within the rotting wood and crumbling stone. But most importantly I hear the stories the town has to tell and as I listen I reach out my hand and capture those stories.

Sometimes I do it with photography, sometimes with the written word and sometimes with paint but always with the respect that the town earned and deserves. I love ghost towns and I really can’t say why beyond the artistic opportunity that they afford me. Maybe there is something deeper in my psyche that knows that long after I have become a ghost these “Villages of the Lost”, though ghosts themselves, will still be visible to generations to come.

THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT GHOST TOWNS

If you are artistically drawn to visit and capture the stories of ghost towns there are a few important things and rules that should be observed. First and foremost is remember; though it may be a ghost town there may still be living people that call it home. Also though a property may be abandoned does not mean that it is unowned. Do not intrude or trespass! Let’s examine Ghost Towns and how you can show proper respect.

VILLAGES OF THE LOST

A “Ghost Town” is any community that is either abandoned, whose main industry that kept the town vital has ceased to exist or whose population and community infrastructure has declined to a level that recovery into a thriving community is highly improbable. There are three types of Ghost Towns: completely deserted ghost towns; towns with a minimal population; and still-thriving towns.

Philip Varney, the author of several popular Ghost Town books defines what to look for in Ghost Town:

  1. Scattered rubble or site where nature has reclaimed the land
  2. Roofless buildings or partially demolished buildings
  3. Boarded up or abandoned buildings, no population
  4. A community with many abandoned buildings and a small population of residents
  5. Historic community or town, functional, but much smaller than in its boom years
  6. A restored town, state park, or replica of an old town, community or fort

GHOST TOWN CODE OF ETHICS:
The following partially taken and modified by Kathy Weiser/Legends of America from Gary Speck’s Ghost Town Ethics, Ghost Town USA

I WILL NOT
1. Destroy, damage or deface any buildings or other structures.
2. Disturb any structures that are locked or appear to be occupied.
3. Remove anything from the site other than obvious trash such as candy wrappers, soft drink cans, etc.
4. Enter a site that is posted as “No Trespassing” without permission.
5. Take in a metal detector without the permission of the owner. These are often the badge of a vandal to local residents.

I WILL
1. Observe all rules and regulations be they local, state, or national.
2. Camp and make fires only in designated safe locations.
3. Leave the land and vegetation as it is.
4. Fill all holes or excavations I make.
5. Remove and properly dispose of any trash I find, and will not litter.
6. Respect the rights and property of landowners, leave gates as found, and obey all posted signs.
7. Appreciate and protect this nation’s ghost towns and the heritage they represent.
8. Always conduct myself in a manner that is courteous and polite, and always show consideration for others.

Visiting Ghost Towns can always be fun and educational as long as they and the people that have called and may still call them home are respected.

I hope this has given you some inspiration to explore and artistically capture a ghost town or abandoned structure near you. I would love to see your creations. Please join our Facebook Group The Artist Life Creations and share your art and stories.

1963 Spacewalk Revisited By: The GYPSY

The Artist Life: Am I A Figment Of Your Imagination Or Am I One Of Yours

AM I A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION OR AM I ONE OF YOURS

As I sit here watching the words appear upon the screen of my laptop I have to ask myself; Does life imitate art or does art imitate life?

I remember drawing a man walking in space. I carefully rendered the image with my 6 year old hand upon the Manila paper with the fat crayons. I remember getting a Dixie cup full of water and dipping my paint brush into the clear liquid. I moistened the small pat of blue paint and soaked my brush with the azure liquid. I rinsed the brush in the water turning it light blue. Dip, moisten, rinse, dip, moisten, rinse until I was satisfied with the shade of blue within the cup. I then started brushing the diluted water color across the surface of the paper; back and forth, forth and back I went until the large sheet of paper was covered. Years later I would learn that this was called a “Wash” but on that day I was just was trying something new.

Did I know that I was supposed to do this or did someone tell me how to do it? The sands of time have coated my memory and fogged my vision. What I do remember is my first grade teacher, Miss Pyle, making a big deal out of it. I remember the picture being on display in the Clay Elementary School hallway for a long time. I remember my Mother and Grandmother excitedly telling me that my picture won the number one place in the State of Kansas. I did not understand what that meant but they were excited and happy so I acted excited and happy too.

I remember a newspaper reporter with a big camera taking my photo and asking me how it felt to know that I was the number one artist in my age group in the country. I remember two years later when the same reporter asked me; “How did you know two years ago that man would walk in space?” I remember my Mother and Grandmother being so proud that my simple picture was on display in the Smithsonian Institution. I remember asking, “What’s a Smithsonian?”

My Mother once looked at me and said; “I don’t trust you, when I am old you will put me into a nursing home and leave me there to die.” I argued that I would never do that and that if she ever did need to be in a nursing home I would not abandon her and just “Leave Her To Die”. She did not believe me and said, “Your sister will take care of me, unlike you.” I told her, with as much conviction as my 15 year old mouth could muster, “Pat will not take care of you but I will.” When the time came Pat did not take care of her… I did.

How did I know Man would walk in Space? How did I know my Mom would need me one day? I have known these things and so much more about my life. I once heard it said that life is a canvas upon which an unfinished painting resides. No one knows what the next brush stroke may bring. But within my life the canvas is not unfinished; I know what the next brush stroke will be and where I will put it.

I cannot tell you why or how that I know what the painting of my life will be I just know that it is. Sometimes it weighs heavy on me, this knowing. I often feel like that Astronaut, coupled to his capsule by a thin life line as the void of space beckons. He cannot be distracted by the darkness around him; he must forever keep his eye on that silver metal life raft which floats high above the planet of his birth. Some day the space man will re-enter his capsule, secure the hatch and plummet at 185 miles per hour like a shooting star back from whence he came. But today he will not fall back to earth; today he shall live in a crayon Universe and swim in a wash of blue in manila space.

-The GYPSY-

Orangutan Djakarta Jim and Gary Clarke Topeka Zoo

The Artist Life: Anyone Can Create Art You Just have To Have A Desire To Do So

Anyone Can Create Art But Not All Art Can Be Created By Everyone

The Human Species has an ingrained desire to create. Whether planting a garden, building furniture, decorating a home, customizing a vehicle or creating works of art men and women long to create. It is one of the ways we leave our mark on the world and it has been ingrained in our species since the beginning of time.

But the desire to create is not just limited to our species. That desire can be found in many other creatures that we share the world with. Take for instance Djakarta Jim, a male Orangutan from the Topeka Zoo in Topeka, Kansas. Djakarta Jim came to the zoo as an infant in the late 1960’s. In 1971 Zoo Director Gary Clarke was approached by Jim’s Keeper who told him that Jim seemed to be drawing pictures with his food. They gave Jim non toxic paint, a brush and canvas and the rest is history.

Djakarta Jim won awards for his art and opened a door for other animal artists. Research into the artistic abilities of animals was in it’s infancy. But with the public acclaim of the orangutan artist more and more people took notice and more animal art was born and inspired. There are now famous works by Elephants, Horses, Chimpanzees and even dolphins.

If animals are able to create art then so can you. However understanding that you may not have the ability to create all types of art is the first step on your artistic journey. Let’s take a closer look at what it takes to become an artist…

I have people come into my studio all the time and say, “I have a friend that can draw really well and is thinking about tattooing.” My response is always the same, “Just because you can draw a pretty picture on a piece piece of paper does not mean you can tattoo; it takes a certain touch.” This is the same for all art. A Pottery Artist may be the greatest Pottery Artist to step foot on the face of the earth but may be unable to draw a straight line on a piece of paper. Being good at one thing artistically does not guarantee you will be a master in all things artistically and that is OK.

Discovering what your artistic talent is actually easier than you may think. Here is my advise on where you should start: get a pencil and piece of paper. Write down a top ten list of things you like and I do not mean artistically I mean those things you like that make you happy. Arrange the list in your favorite thing at the top and working down to number ten. Now make a separate top ten list of the type of art you like. Examples might be; pencil drawing, pen and ink, watercolor, acrylic painting, oil painting, block printing, decorative art, stained glass, graffiti art, pottery, plaster cast, digital art, pastels, crayon art, portrait art, landscape art, cityscape art, seascape art, animal art, jewelry art, sculpting and on and on and on. The possibilities are endless. Now arrange that list in the order of the type of art you like best with #1 being your favorite and #10 being your list favorite.

You now have two lists; favorite things and favorite art. What are your two number one things? Do you like Motorcycles? Do you like Stain Glass? Now think how you might combine those two things. Maybe make stain glass images of motorcycles or motorcycle events. Do you like Birds? Do you like Decorative Art? How would you combine those two things? Stenciled wall art feature birds or bird themed decorative trim? Do you like Trains? Do you like Graffiti Art? Well I wouldn’t suggest going out and doing graffiti art on trains but what if you painted a picture of a train using a graffiti art style? Are you starting to get the idea?

You can even go a step further; You like old buildings. You also like pottery and acrylic painting. What would stop you from creating artwork in acrylic paint of say an old barn on the side of a pot you made and then glazing that pot. You see where you start on this artistic journey is only limited by your imagination. Now that you have your key elements the next step is fairly simple… experiment and I mean really experiment! Do not just try something one time and say, “Well Gee I guess I can’t do it.” There is an old saying; “Practice Makes Perfect!” If creating art in a style you like is what you really desire to do then practice, practice, practice. But there is a Catch 22.

If you are unfamiliar with what a Catch 22 is it can be defined as a dilemma or difficult circumstance from which there is no escape because of mutually conflicting or dependent conditions. Remember what I stated above, “Just because you can draw a pretty picture on a piece piece of paper does not mean you can tattoo; it takes a certain touch.” If you have practiced and practiced and practiced the type of art you have chosen and still cannot seem to get it do not let your frustration rule you or kill your desire to create. At that point it will be time to move on and try a different artistic endeavor. You may go through several different things you like and several different types of art combinations before you find the one that is right for you. But I cab assure you that you will find the magic combination that will have you creating art that you admire and that will be admired by others.

Here is a final word of advice; Do not be afraid to ask for help. Taking art classes or buying books that explain the creative process are things you should be willing to do. The greatest cure for ignorance is education. Become artistically educated and you will find that your art will improve along with your abilities as an artist.

One word of caution however for those thinking about tattoo or piercing art; though there are a lot of videos on Youtube showing how to tattoo or pierce. Those “How Too” videos are garbage. You can only truly learn how to tattoo and pierce properly under an experienced state licensed  trainer. If anyone ever tries to charge you for Body Art Training you are in the wrong place. A professional Body Art Trainer makes their money when you start tattooing or piercing in their studio. They do not make their money by taking it out of your pocket and teaching you nothing. Contact your state licensing board for a list of qualified trainers.

So with all that being said I hope that this blog has helped to point you in the right direction on your artistic journey. It is worth repeating to say to you; Anyone Can Create Art You Just Have To Have A Desire To Do So.

-The GYPSY-

 

Pore Richards Watercolor Painting By The GYPSY

The Artist Life: Pore Richards

“Pore Richards”

Watercolor Painting By Romani American Artist J.A. George AKA: The GYPSY

As a child my Saturdays and summer breaks centered around youth activities at the YMCA located, at that time, at SW 8th and Quincy in Topeka, Kansas. The youth area was in the basement of the one time USO building and was a virtual boys club. No girls were allowed in this sacred area that included pool tables, lounge area with large color television, which most homes did not have at the time, hobby shop ran by the wise, talented and noble Mr. Anderson and an Olympic size swimming pool.
Activities included Judo lessons, handball, basketball and trampoline in the gymnasium. Field trips ranging from tours of Frito Lay and Coca Cola to Flights on small planes at Billard airport. My first flight on an airplane was captured on a front page story in the Topeka Capital Journal during one of these field trips. And let’s not forget swimming lessons from Louie the Lifeguard (I eventually obtained the Junior Life Saver level after Louie threw me into the pool after I refused to swim but that’s another story for another day) and open swimming in the afternoon when the pool became no mans land.
Yes, for a boy the YMCA was a world filled with opportunity, education, wonderment and fun. Now days there is a parking lot located on that southwest corner that was once a bastion of a boys life yet that is not what this posting is about, no it is about the business that once sat at the opposite corner from the YMCA; Pore Richards Beer ’N Stein Café.
When I would walk to or leave the YMCA I would always notice the big black sign with the neon lettering and the caricature of the funny little Hobo on top with his “Toe Peek A ing” out of one shoe. I had always assumed that the silly little Hobo with the large round spectacles was the fabled “Pore Richard”. I always found it funny that the adult who had made the sign did not know how to spell the word “Poor” and I wondered if Mr. Richard had been upset when he first saw the sign.
There was never really anything about the sign nor the exterior of the building that would appeal to your appetite to invite you in yet it was a Topeka tradition and a Topeka gathering place. My grandmother would sometimes take a business lunch in this mysterious restaurant that was off limits to one of my tender age.
Yes, almost everyday of my young life I saw Pore Richards and his image became such a familiar sight to me that even to this day when I hear the term Poor Richards Almanac a vision of the funny little Hobo comes to mind.
I had vowed that one day, when I was an adult, I would have a “Beef ’N Stein” in the famous Café. But alas, that was never to be. As with so many things and places held dear to so many peoples heart “Pore Richards” passed into history and the pages of the past.
Sometimes I think about the iconic sign and wonder what happened to it. Is it collecting dust in someone’s storeroom that swears, “I’m going to do something with that someday!” or was it recycled for the metal that was in it. I personally would like to see it in a museum where future generations can smile at the friendly little Hobo but barring that I think the recycle scenario would be the best thing that could have happened to the sign.
I smile when I imagine the stoic little Hobo being the front grill of an expensive recreational vehicle rolling down the highway, freed from the confines of the sign and doing what a Hobo does; traveling the highways and the byways of America. I lift a Stein to you my dear unknown friend and your memory; Pore Richards.

-The GYPSY-

The Blue Albino Woman Of Topeka By The GYPSY

The Artist Life: The Blue Albino Woman Of Topeka – By: The GYPSY

The Blue Albino Woman Of Topeka

Watercolor Illustration and Story By Romani American Artist J.A. George AKA; The GYPSY

This Watercolor Illustration Was Used In The Blue Albino Woman Episode of Discovery Channel’s Monster’s and Myths in America.

Allow me to relate the strange tale of the Albino Woman to you my faithful readers. The story of the Albino Woman is a ghost story that has touched me in the past and will again become part of my story in the future. The cemetery she haunts, Rochester Cemetery, is located on the northwest outskirts of Topeka, Kansas and is the final resting place of my family as it will also someday be the final resting place of my wife Raychel and I.
This ghost story has its roots in the life of a strange albino woman who wandered her north Topeka neighborhood at night and glared at children on their way to school during the day. As a child she had been mercilessly teased by her classmates. That taunting had followed her to adult hood as the neighborhood children would call her names and yell insults at her. After the friendless woman died in 1963 of mysterious circumstances residents began reporting a glowing white female figure walking in the area after dark especially along Shunganunga Creek.
Often the sightings were near Rochester Cemetery where the woman was buried and near which Shunganunga Creek flows. To this day employees of the nearby Goodyear Tire Factory claim to see her regularly, and some neighbors see the apparition as often as once a week.
It was August of 1964 and I was trying on clothes in the dressing room of the children’s department on the second floor of Pelletier’s Department store which my Grandmother was Manager of. It was time for me to get my new school clothes. School was going to start soon and I would be entering the second grade.
Suddenly the door to the dressing room flew open and there stood a tall veiled woman dressed entirely in black. her red eyes were visible through the dark veil as she reached out a gloved hand towards me. As the arm came closer I saw with horror the pale almost bluish flesh of the arm between her sleeve and glove. I let out a scream and she froze in her movement. Appearing behind the tall frightening figure was the small stature of my Grandmother. Summing up the situation quickly my Grandmother forcibly ordered, “Leave! You are not welcomed here!” The veiled woman slowly turned as I crouched back against the wall. I heard my Grandmother repeat, “You are not welcomed here.” She then ordered, “Now leave!” The tall figure with the red eyes and bluish skin silently glided past my Grandmother and towards the stair well. I ran to my Grandmothers arms and watched, along with the employees that had come running when I screamed, the frightening figure descend the stairs and quickly disappear.
I was to learn later that this was the Albino Woman who had died the next year. I was not to learn until four years later why she had sought me out.
The Rochester Cemetery’s caretaker and his wife had a close encounter with the ghost of the Albino Woman late one night in 1968. As they pulled their car into the driveway they saw a figure scurrying among the gravestones. Thinking it a child playing a prank, they aimed the car’s headlights at the figure, which was then kneeling before a grave. When the caretaker got out of the car, the ghostly figure stood up and glared angrily at him and walked deeper into the cemetery. The caretaker was so upset he called the police but the officers found nothing.
The ghost’s route was so regular that one resident began watching for it as it strolled across his lawn on clear nights. Eventually, he claimed, the figure began to pause and gaze at his house as though it wished to speak to him. It began to pass closer and closer to the house until one night it stood at his children’s bedroom window and watched them as they slept. The man was badly scared, but the apparition never harmed his children.
This was not the only house that the Albino Woman looked within the windows. One hot summer evening in 1968 as I lay asleep, my bed by the window to catch what little breeze drifted into the bedroom. We were poor and air conditioning was not a luxury we could afford so a rotary fan moved the stagnant air around the room. I was awakened by a scratching sound at my window. In my groggy, half asleep state I thought it was my cat, Blue Boy, scratching at the screen. “Stop it girl,” I mumbled. That is when my cat hissed. I opened my eyes to see Blue Boy, her back arched, her hair on end and hissing at the window. I rolled over and looked into the glowing red eyes of the Albino Woman who was standing right outside my window glaring at me with an intense stare that was without emotion. I screamed and scrambled out of my bed.
My Mother came running into the room and saw the hideous apparition standing at the window. “Leave us alone, damn you,” my mother screamed, “leave us alone!” My mother grabbed my arm and shoved me from the room. “I am sorry, OK?! I am sorry! Now leave us be!” My mother yelled as she exited the room and slammed the bedroom door close.
I found out that night that the Albino Woman had lived in a house in my mothers childhood neighborhood. My mother and her friends had taunted the poor hapless woman everyday as they walked to and from school.
I have not had an encounter with her since the night my Mother apologized almost 40 years ago now. But it is said that she still walks along Shunganunga creek and prowls the interior woodlands of Rochester Cemetery at night. Do me a favor will you? If you are ever in Rochester Cemetery and you meet a tall woman dressed in black with piercing red eyes and pale bluish white skin, don’t tell her that you know me or that you know where I live. I’ll have a word with her after I am laid to rest there.

-The GYPSY-


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-The GYPSY and Mad Hatter-

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