Owl see what I see.

When I make abstracts it goes a little something like this: 

I take a picture of our Christmas tree close up (actually, I had the peacock take my picture because he takes better shots than I do) and then I turn the picture upside down.

Then I paint that. 

This is obviously a close up of our pink owl ornament.....

Too Close Owl (2015)

Acrylic on canvas panel 6x6

Either that, or it could be tits. 

We all interpret art in our own way. 

-Cheree 

An American in Paris

They say Paris is the city of Love...........

Well, the day we went to the Eiffel Tower for the first time, our family was not in love with each other. We were at each other's throats.
It was hot.
We were all hungry.
It was hot. There were crowds and the crowds were massive....I hate, hate, hate crowds. Especially when it's hot.
The 8 year old was upset that the tour bus was not an open top, but just a regular bus (Hell, I didn't know this when I booked the tour).
The goldfish wanted to roam free without restriction and didn't want to ride in the carrier (crowds don't seem to deter her in any way of what she plans to be doing).
The peacock was mad at all of us for whining and being so dysfunctional. (The following day he discovered the word "Hangry" while over hearing this group of ladies gossiping at the park....and then the day all made sense to him, but I digress)
IT WAS HOT!!!!!!

Thank God for the amazingly engineered fountain (this was all the peacock could talk about for days afterward) across the way from the Eiffel tower (Way to go Paris!) and the crepe cart.
And Thank God for the Eiffel tower at night (when it's not hot)
I'm in Love.

Night walk in Paris (2015)

Acrylic on Clayboard with 2 inch profile sides

Let's put the children on the next open top bus tour with some crepes and book it back to the hotel. 

-Cheree 

What's on your shelf

I must admit I painted this, and I'm at a loss for words with how to speak to it. I feel it speaks for itself. 

Here's the background story of why I painted this portrait. 

It began as a challenge from the peacock. 

He texted me this crazy picture of Trump and said

"I know it's not pretty, but I think you should paint this. It's just so crazy." 

So, I gave it a try. 

And it worked out, so I decided that the most fitting attire for Donald Trump by far would be an Elf on the Shelf suit. We call our's 

"Ass on a Shelf." (2015)

Acrylic on canvas panel 16x8

Every night he reports to himself and informs of who should be deported and who's fired. 

-Cheree 

International Trade Agreements

I grew up in a very small town and a wee bit redneck. This is by no means negative, but Jeff Foxworthy jokes make sense to me; either from personal experience or knowing someone with that experience. I find these jokes quite funny.
Well, I got a new one for Mr. Foxworthy.
A true story.
Gunnison is often the coldest spot in the nation and requires for most of us, a wood burning stove.
Well, a wood burning stove requires wood.....lots of it, (winter is really long and really frickin cold). So, every year we would head up into the mountains and gather wood in our old red 1970's International. Let me just say, this truck was a piece, but it mediocrely did it's job every year......very slowly, slowly, slowly, like a sloth. A slow, red, old, 8 track playing sloth, driving at 15mph up into the mountains, getting passed by winter turtles and 90 year old grannies doing cartwheels in snowshoes. (If you think this truck sounds cool.....you might be a hipster). 

To further paint the utter joy of the wood gathering ceremony, gathering wood is a lot of painful, time consuming work. (You'll definitely need to bring your Cooler along to keep mentally sane). It involves an entire day in the mountains cutting, hauling and stacking wood. You might think, Oh that sounds so nice to be in the mountains all day. NO, you're wrong. You get muddy, angry, sweaty, pissed off, sore, with splinters in your face and sometimes a black eye. This experience is why I don't do Crossfit. In fact, Crossfit should just go get my Dad's wood every year and then stack it up for him for the next 3 days.
Win-Win.

Anyways, one year, The International just had enough work and it just refused to go. It wanted to kick back in the garage, hang out with the dead elk heads (let's get real, who doesn't)  But, well, we still needed wood for the winter.
Therefore, my Dad decided it was time.

Wood Haul (2015)

Acrylic on canvas panel 6x12

If you trade your truck for a winter's load of wood.....
You might be a redneck."
-Cheree

Going all natural

When my parents come to visit us over here in the city, my Dad ALWAYS makes sure to bring his little cooler full of beer. Now, you'd think that he was packing this amazing microbrew only found in the remotest area of the Colorado mountains, but in fact he packs....wait for it......wait....for...it....

.......Natural Light. 

Yep, he brings his cooler of Natty light to our house.....in the city.....with 2 liquor stores within a block & 3 breweries in walking distance. Because Lord knows the kids have beer Armageddon going on in their fridge with their "Modus Hoperandi" & their "Rogue dead guy", not to mention their "Fat tire" & Hazed & Infused". 

This behavior is what I like to call: the Doomsday Prepper, Redneck style. It's what happens to my Dad when he visits us in the city. He must be totally prepared, armed with his Natural Light, protected in his own cooler from the likes of "Sweaty Betty Blond" (Dad it's a wheat beer) & "Wooly Booger Nut Brown Ale (I really really want to see his face when he reads the label)

Dad's Cooler (2015)

Acrylic on panel board 5x7

The city is a scary place, so just kick back, relax, & just watch all the sweaty, hazed & infused dead guys go rouge on their critical mass fat tires chasing Betties from your high rise balcony with your cooler of Natural light. 

Ahhhhhhhhhh, Just. Like. Home. 

-Cheree

Mastering group therapy

Every year I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD (which is such a wonderful pun of an abbreviation). It's not terrible. It's just something I've always had; it's a part of me, just like so are my arms. This year, in preparation to combat SAD, I decided to go into "therapy".

My therapy was not typical and some may consider it not "real" therapy. But I've done "real" therapy before, I can honestly say that my therapy was real. 

My therapist name was Karen Roehl. 

My therapy was called Introduction to Acrylic Painting. 

Each week I would join a group of artists and we would have "therapy". 

There were about 12 people in my session and each coming from different backgrounds, but all of us having that overwhelming need to create through paint. Each week all of us working on our paintings and doing "art" exercises,  but also not realizing that this class was much more than just an introduction to painting. This class was therapy. This class was art. This class was essentially about life. 

•  You can choose to paint from your brain or your gut. Your brain will trick you and scare you and, well, your gut won't. You're gut has your best interest (your creative juices), while your brain keeps you safe and alive. 
• "There is no such thing as a failed painting. It just needs more layers on it." 
•  Sometimes you don't know where the painting will take you, maybe you make a mark by accident and you think: "Wow, I really like how that looks. I'm just going to keep that."
• Don't be afraid to paint over what you think is your best part of the painting. Most likely, there's another layer you put on that will be better. 

Every week I looked forward to therapy. It made my whole week manageable and happier. I didn't even notice that I was SAD. I would say that it was time and money well spent. Here is my master study from my group therapy. (A master study is when you copy someone else's artwork, to improve your own....this helps with learning brush strokes, color mixing, layering and deciding what colors were laid down first, etc.) 

Master Study of
Arbre couche 1923-1924
by Chaim Soutine

Thank God for therapy, in all it's forms. 

I now will refer to SAD as my Seasonal Art Disorder. 

-Cheree 

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
Are we there yet?
The most asked question that I get on an daily, sometimes hourly basis.
And not from my children.....although, I get it from them a lot too.

This is the question I get most asked from myself.... all of the time.
Are you there yet?

I look at this painting of Crested Butte, which I consider part of the area I grew up in and I can't determine if I'm there yet. I grew up there, therefore, I should know if I'm there yet. But, I can't determine if it is done yet. Should I add a village? I tried that once already and it didn't feel right. Should I add more detail? or is this one of those good messes? Maybe I need to change the music I'm painting to? maybe the colors?

.........Am I there.....yet?

I started over a few times already... and each time I really liked being "there", but then "there" wasn't where I thought "there" should be. "There" took me somewhere......else.
And sometimes "there" made me lost (I don't know which way to get there).
And there made me angry (There! I can't do it)
There made me ashamed (I was wrong, it was there).
There made me scared (I gotta get away from there).
And there made me cry (I don't want to be there) ALOT!
But, there has also comforted me (it's okay now, there, there), brought me joy (I'm so happy being there), made me laugh so hard I peed a bit in my pants (That there was funny), taught me courage & strength (I fought & deserve to be there), acceptance (you belong there), compassion (others belong there), and opened up new ways to be "there".
There has made me.

Enjoy the process (Look, you see what you did there?).
Enjoy the journey (There you go)
Enjoy the time (I will be there)

There (2015)

Acrylic on canvas 12x12

SOLD 

Everyone knows there are so many ways to get "there" and no right way to do it.
And, honestly, who the hell cares when you get "there" and where "there" is and how long it took you and how it was done.
Those who do are probably just assholes anyway, so there!
-Cheree

I am very grateful for whoever took this picture of the first snow in Crested Butte this year & more grateful for the friend who posted it on facebook. This kind of inspiration can lead you anywhere.