Art

...now browsing by category

 

So many places

Thursday, July 28th, 2011

I ordered this print from a charming little Etsy shop.

Truer words there have never been.

Power up

Thursday, July 21st, 2011

I think my nephew missed the point of the Sunday School lesson.

The most artistic Parsons

Wednesday, January 26th, 2011

My sister Becca is a great gift-giver.  She puts a lot of time and thought and effort into the things that she gives people – and this past Christmas was no exception.

In addition to our “real” presents, she made everyone in our family an awesome dog portrait.  Weird?  NOT IF YOU’RE A PARSONS.

Becca knows that I like those dogs with floppy hair that falls into their eyes, so she made me this:

Isn’t that amazing?  I love it so much.  He’s my imaginary dog – the one that doesn’t care if I leave town for the weekend, or if I don’t come home for 12 hours straight, or if I don’t feed him.  He’s the best.

I think Becca should start a pet portrait business.  All in favor, say aye.

Kristy girl

Sunday, March 29th, 2009

Sometimes, someone you’ve never met can give you the biggest gift.

Kristy Behrs of Wreckless Photography has been a second soul to me. She lives far, far away in California, and although we’ve never met face to face, I feel that we have a bond – an understanding – a trippy connection that bridges the distance. I am continually in awe of her eye, her sensitivity, and her genuine spirit. She recently solicited the ideas of friends and strangers and admirers to spark her creativity; she got some fabulous suggestions and challenges (definitely read through them!) and, with eyes wide open, has been on a hunt.

I’m honored to be first.

challenge_courage

A title that fits

Wednesday, February 4th, 2009

In a grand twist of events, I found myself dining last night at the Eastland Café with my two roommates, one of their mothers, and two strangers. I had the duck. I love duck.

The strangers quickly became friends. I fell in love with these women.

I heard their stories – what brought them to Nashville, what gives them joy, what they are learning at this stage in their lives. And in turn, they asked me insightful questions – ones that, when I answered, gave me a certain familiarity with myself that I didn’t have before.

Among other things, they asked me about my musical ambitions. I sighed, and told them what I have been thinking lately: I have been so tempted to just quit doing music. To “retire.” To stop frantically scrambling for ideas, and no longer have to answer the question, “So, do you have any shows coming up?” I’ve been discouraged, and creatively dry, and lacking inspiration. Nashville is a great place to enjoy music, but a daunting place to make it. Everyone is good. The mailman is good.

But, I know, I know. The comparison game is completely feckless and futile. I’m learning this. I may be slow, but I AM learning this.

And so I opened up with these women, and told them that I’ve quietly started work on an album – what will wind up being a 6-7 song EP. It’s my first “official” recording project beyond simple demos, and will take awhile to complete since it is self-funded. But the timing is right, and the cost is worth it to me.

I’ve been looking for “a reason” to make a record – a logical justification for it, like, “Oh, I’ll make some money,” or “Oh, this will help me get a publishing deal,” or “Oh, a CD will make me a legitimate songwriter.” But when it comes down to it, my main motivation is this:

I wrote some songs, and I think it’s time for them to be heard.

That’s all.

And in that moment, one of these women reiterated what my mom had said to me earlier in the day: “That makes you an artist.”

After all of my soul-searching and wheel-spinning and worrying that I don’t know what I am doing with my life. After months of despondency and sleepless nights. After a lack of direction, and a desire for definition. After a lot of prayers. I still don’t have all the answers, but…

Finally. A title that fits.

Stay tuned.

Sopping

Saturday, March 15th, 2008

You can take the girl out of Seattle, but…


It started as such a good idea. On New Years’ Day, Greta had done a mega-Seattle walk, 10+ miles with her digital camera, taking pictures of noteworthy things. So, I decided that today, I would follow suit and take several hours to explore Nashville on foot, using my new camera to document the things that caught my attention.

Above is the only picture that I took.

The first hour of the walk, I talked on the phone and ignored my surroundings. I wound up at Crema, a new-ish coffee shop with the best Americano I have had in Nashville to date. At this point, the sky was getting darker and heavier, and my Seattle instincts told me that rain was on the way.

As I weighed my options – brave the rain or stay at Crema forever – I perused the art on the walls at the coffee shop. They are currently featuring works by Aaron Grayum – delightful, whimsical paintings based on his childhood. Particularly, this one stood out:


It was a sign, right? I should brave the storm, right?

I did.

There comes a point in every girl’s life when it is simply impossible to be any more wet. And at that point, you boldly stand on street corners, embracing the fact that the passing cars will send tidal waves your way. You do not avoid, but rather, walk straight through puddles, allowing water to slosh into your sneakers. You smile at your fellow man caught in the same storm, bound together by your drenched circumstances.

And when you get home, you peel the 10 lbs. worth of wet cotton off of your body and take the most luxuriously hot shower known to man. And you know that that? What you just did? When you let your mascara run and didn’t care that your hair got ruined and accepted the fact that I am powerless over this situation so I might as well enjoy it? Is liberation.

Worth a place on my wall

Monday, November 5th, 2007

I spent my Sunday wandering around our nation’s capitol. I saw the museums and the monuments – nothing in depth, but everything briefly. The one place that I took my time was the National Gallery of Art.

I don’t claim to know anything about art. I know that I like it. I like to look at it. I like to have it on my walls. But sometimes I can’t remember where Van Gogh was from, or what genre Rembrandt falls into, or the difference between Monet and Manet. And they’re even the famous ones! But despite my lack of knowledge, I know when I like something.

Here’s the thing about art: discerning people are not going to like everything. And not everyone is going to like any one particular piece. As I meandered through the maze of galleries today, I was struck with how some pieces caught my eye and drew me in, and others repelled me. I don’t know many people who would want a mural-sized painting of a naked Daniel in the Lion’s Den hanging in their dining room. Or a bland landscape of a murky ocean and boring shore displayed in their entryway.

But what do I know? I only know when I, Annie, like something. And so I bought this Charles Rennie Mackintosh print today (he signed his name “Chas” in the corner – I feel like we are close and personal friends), and plan on hanging it somewhere in my future Nashville home. Because I love it.