Back to the Drawing Board

OK… back to the drawing board today.

Yesterday was a bust… art-wise.

Josey5I tried to draw Josey numerous times and not a single one looked anything like her!

What???

So I tried again today. It turned out a bit better. But not all that much. Not sure why, but I’ll keep trying. Meanwhile, here’s today’s effort.

Then, since I am realizing I am a very “rusty” artist and need to practice a whole lot more, I decided to do a sketch of my dad.

First let me say this…

I am 63 years old. And I still have my dad. He is 83. And he is in pretty good health! He lives in his own home, washes his car more times than I would ever dream of, and mows his yard umpteen times a year. In fact, he records his yard-mowing on his calendar. Has for years.

Now he’s a funny guy (which is where I get my own “funni-ness!”) so he writes “mode” on the calendar every time he cuts the grass. And believe me, he is thorough about it. One year he said he “mode” every month but February… in Ohio! I’m tellin’ ya, when you pull up to his house, it looks like he clipped the lawn with scissors.

But my daddy is not just a grass-cutting ninja in his golden years… he is a serious ninja from times past…

Take a look at this sketch I did of him today. DadSee those blue eyes?

Ha! I have those eyes. (And so do my sons and one of my grand daughters.) But we do not know how to use those eyes like he did!

Nope… his eyes were WEAPONS!

In my growin’ up years, he would turn those eyes on me and I would melt under his gaze. Had I done something I shouldn’t? Had I even thought about it?

If so, I would run screaming from the room and confess to all manner of sins committed or briefly considered.

Please, God, forgive me for even having such thoughts!

But that was the power of a good daddy in those days. He knew how to use his strength and I knew how to respect it. It made me a good girl. No matter what the temptation. (So for all those juicy boys I knew in high school… now you know why I was able to resist you! I was skeered to death of my papa! And now you know how to train your own daughters and grand daughters!)

Anyway… my daddy was also one heck of a musician. He played the mandolin. He taught my brother to play the guitar when he was a wee bit of a thing. And when we were young adults, my family had a band… The Pleasant Mountain Boys, from Lancaster Ohio. The core group of the band was my grand dad, Lawrence Featheroff, my dad, Ralph Tipton, and my brother, Larry Tipton. And over the years and various incarnations of the band, others joined them to play the most wonderful bluegrass, down-home music you ever heard in your life. They made a number of recordings and all of those who knew them at the time spent every weekend “following the band” to wherever they played.

My dad was known as “the Roadhog” – not sure why now. And all the guys had nicknames I can no longer recall. Isn’t that crazy? It really wasn’t all that long ago…

Meanwhile, I’m sketching my father today and recalling his talent and wishing him a very, very, very long life. His talent will always live on… and I hope mine does, too.

May you all have fond memories of your own families today of both times past and future!

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. mymindseye53
    Mar 13, 2015 @ 00:18:54

    Great story Starr!

    Reply

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