Pics from the conference

My son and some of his fellow Iraq Vets who all served in Hit, Anbar Province, and Jake Krapfl, another Iraq vet from the 82nd who spoke at the conference.

View from the hotel room, located right near the Pentagon.

Pat and Sherman.

Yay, the Conference is Over! I can go back to painting again!

The weekend conference, put on for Veterans and Military Families for Progress, was a tremendous success despite modest attendance. We were able to push out a lot of great ideas, inform those veterans, military family members, vets advocates, government officials, and the news media in the audience of a number of important issues, developments, and more related to our constituents. I had a lot vested in this because the group included Pete, one of my sons and his “band of brothers” a group of seven Iraq War vets in all who served in deadly Anbar Province together. Three are purple heart recipients and one has been awarded the Silver Star. We had been fortunate to put out a financial appeal ang received donations to "sponsor" the travel expenses and attendance of these men and some of their family members. It was, in my opinion, a great investment.

We all got to listen to Congressmen, a V.A. Assistant Secretary, an Undersecretary of the Pentagon, and a White House Special Assistant too! We heard compelling stories from military family members, veterans, and healthcare providers that treat veterans and those serving, as well as educators, employers and more. The main thing is, it is over, my effort paid off, and I learned and experienced a tremendous amount during the weekend. I know my son and all his army buddies did too.

Now, though, I am spent, both emotionally and physically and I can’t wait to get back to painting! Tonight I am spending the night at my lovely friend Pat’s home, located in the area around Manassas Battlefield! It’s a wonderful quiet and peaceful respite from the hustle and bustle of metro Washington, D.C. and we had a gorgeous walk in the battlefield with her black lab, Sherman. Pat, an art school graduate, showed me some of her work and encouraged me onward, noting my photography background would be helpful in composition. I took tons of photos of Sherman in the fields and Pat said she wants to paint landscape paintings incorporating him in them. I’ve promised to send her a CD of the pics. She uses her art, by the way, in her graphic design / trade show exhibit business called Showcase Portable Exhibits. Affordable trade show/ exhibit displays by a talented, great person (and fellow former Blue Star Mom!). Use her if you have the need and tell her “Moesse” sent you!

Pictures of the classroom

I surreptitiously took these shots with my IPhone.

My first formal painting session!

Investing time and $40 into this promise to myself, I enrolled and started watercolor painting classes today in Nashville at Centennial Park Arts Center.

It is located in one of those buildings you’d miss if you weren’t specifically looking for it, off in a corner of the park. What a wonderful place, though, just perfect! As you enter, there is a gallery, shaped like a short, very wide T, with lots of windows. The studio I paint in is to the right, down a little hallway. I can tell it’s a special place, just by the energy and vibe there.

I didn’t know a soul, as is often the case when I get into one of these “Lucy, what did you do?” scenarios where I get into something and wonder at my sanity as I take a deep breath and go through the doorway. It so happened, though, that I found a warm, congenial atmosphere there. Several folks were already engrossed in work, but Hazel King, the instructor and a pistol-of-a-nonaganerian(I looked it up!)-woman greeted me warmly. I noticed that experience was sweetly etched in her face and she had plenty of sparkle and shine still in her eyes. Reminded me of my mom at her elfish, most-mischievous best.

I explained I was new to painting and meekly went to the files to find a reference image to paint and set myself up in a quiet little corner to get to work. I had my original British supplies and a nifty new painting box David had given me for my birthday. It had three drawers and was stocked with watercolor, oil, and acrylic paint supplies, one set to each drawer. And the top lifted up to produce an easel. I had ditched the oil and acrylic supplies, added the british painting supplies for more variety, and the watercolor paper I had bought in the U.K.

Hazel showed me how to line my workstation with old newspaper from a big pile nearby and I promptly got started. It was amusing and educational listening to the rest of the group talk as they worked. At times it would grow quiet, but more often than not, Hazel would pipe in and make an observation on someone’s work.

"There's not any value change in that at all!" she'd bemoan. And "look at that, don't you see all those colors in that? It ain't just red, you know!"

“She is hard of hearing and can get very critical at times, but don’t let her discourage you,” Lynne, a friendly 30-something, warned. She had come by to freshen her water and glanced over my work. “Very nice!” I explained I had never really painted before and she quickly became mentor, friend, and art confidant, showing me how to place dabs of water on paper, fan it around, and create little surprise blotches of beautiful color.

Unfortunately, I’m chairing this major weekend conference in Washington, D.C. next week and with so many details to tie up before heading up there Tuesday, I had to leave class early. Still, I managed to tap into something, and found an impromptu, easy-flowing style in the iceboat I painted. I was pleased and proudly brought home my work to show David who claimed to be pleased and impressed too.