Growth Charts: Hand Painted Christmas Gifts

Inspiration for this project first came from my daughter, Emily, who months ago asked if I could make a growth chart for her little girl; something that could be easily moved when necessary. This request triggered  memories of a growth chart we had for our children years ago that was not so movable. It was the white painted wood door jam of a 1950's kitchen in our home in Durango, Colorado. This growth chart was not restricted to family members. Anyone and everyone who wanted to be measured would stand up to that doorway and stretch as tall as they could; I would take my ruler and pencil to mark their place on that wall with their name and the date they were measured. It was so much fun for everyone to compare who was taller than who and track the progression of our children and their friends as they grew. Our tallest entry came from a good friend and co-worker of my husband's. His name was Jack and he measured in at 6 feet, 9 3/4 inches. Jack was a tall man. The kids squealed in delight when they saw his mark.

I never realized how special that growth chart would be until the day the movers came and everything we owned was loaded up into a large moving truck. The only personal item remaining in that empty house was the immovable growth chart, a small memorial to the many years of growing and changing that took place in our little house. I cried.

And now I fast forward to today and the creation of growth charts for my granddaughters that will never have to be left behind. I painted them on a pre-treated canvas fabric with acrylic paint.( My kind next door neighbor, Susan, hemmed in the edges for me.) They turned out to be quite the Christmas project. Each one took longer than I had planned but in the end, they were wrapped and ready under the Christmas trees waiting for their unveiling.

Tibetan Pole Painting

I can't imagine a better way to be greeted on a cool fall morning than with a cup of freshly brewed coffee made with a special blend carefully chosen from distant lands.

And though my reason for this visit was not the latte, it was certainly a nice way to start my work day.

My job, this time, was far removed from my usual portrait or landscape commissions that I create in my studio. This was, by far, a calling to do something I had never dreamed of: to paint, on a beam, a Tibetan prayer pole. I love projects that create unusual challenges and this one fit the description

perfectly.

   

When Mark and Carrie called and said they would like me to come to their home and see this pole, I had to laugh inside. Who calls someone and asks them to paint a Tibetan style pole in their living room? I guess outrageous, creatively original people do. And since I love to push the boundaries of what I can paint and where, this commission was a perfect fit.

To make my job easier, Mark had prepared the wall with a base coat of a lightly tinted primer.

Mixing the acrylic paint is fun. It also is a time to mentally prepare myself for what I am about to do.

Since I had to climb a six foot ladder and balance precariously at times, I decided it would be best to start with the highest, most dangerous part while I still felt fresh and rested.

Next came the sky blue paint that I painted right up to the edges of my clouds.

Starting at the top, I painted the blue with a slight gradation from dark to light to imitate a Colorado sky.

This photo was taken at the bottom of the stairs which is the way it will appear to anyone who looks up from the living room.

I had an art instructor once tell me that a good painting entertains the eye from a distance and then draws you in and entertains the eye close up.

In this instance, I was happy to complete the Tedder's vision of this Tibetan pole (and apply my instructor's theory) by painting a verse that they had chosen from Psalm 19:1 - something that can only be seen upon closer inspection.

Mark and Carrie visited Tibet and then fell in love with the Tibetan people; a love so deep that they wanted a visual reminder each day to pray for the country, the people, and its leaders.

Oftentimes, after a commissioned work is completed, I walk away in awe at the experience and the privilege it was to be a part of something much bigger than myself.