Secret Galleries and the Art of Home Repairs

We had an art show a few weeks ago

with a single attendee..

the handyman who came to repair our wall.

He examined the paintings that surrounded him

while he worked..

and as the plaster dried

he walked around

staring at all the art.

He spoke to us about our paintings

and shared stories of his own collection of art..

his father’s landscape paintings

which he treasured.

As he was leaving

he thanked us for the experience

and his unexpected trip

into an art exhibit.

This is art the way it is meant to be

not cloistered away in a sterile, white-walled gallery

but as a part of everyday life..

living in our homes

like family.

Lost Dolls and the Art of Perserverance

“Lost and Found Again” by Michele Bledsoe

The floppy yellow doll in the lower left corner of this painting is Beth..

my sister’s beloved childhood doll.

Many years ago,

in a moment of carelessness

Beth was lost

and my sister was filled with regret.

It broke my heart.

For over 20 years, I have relentlessly searched for Beth.

Antique stores, yard sales

and endless, insomnia-fueled internet searches.

A noble quest

to reunite my sister with her beloved doll.

Recently, my doll-hunting obsession

came up in conversation.

My sister remembered me telling her about it

10 years ago.

She was touched that after all this time

I had not given up.

I told her I would look for Beth

for the rest of my life

if that’s what it took to find her…

The next day, Beth was found.

As my husband held me in his arms..

I wept tears of joy.

My quest is over.

I am at peace.

Love and the Art of Collecting Laughter

My husband and I keep a journal next to our computer.

Whenever something makes us laugh our heads off

we write it down.

Occasionally,

we read from it

and crack up all over again..

It is our collection of laughter.

Dollhouse Paintings and the Art of Giving Your All

My sister asked me to make a painting

to hang in her dollhouse.

So I did.

With squinting eyes,

I leaned in close

and poured my soul onto that tiny canvas.

Is it a waste of time to put so much of myself

into a 2″ x 2″ square?

No.

Art is all or nothing.

Every time.

STUDIO: Collaborative Painting with Richard and Michele-Part 1

My husband and I are both painters –
I am surprised it took us so long to do this..

THE REMODERN REVIEW

It Begins: A Collaborative Painting from Richard and Michele Bledsoe

It’s surprising it’s taken us so long to do this.

My wife Michele Bledsoe and I are both painters, but very different kinds of painters.

We do share a studio in our home. We’ve spent countless hours together making art. We work back to back, with the stereo in the middle to play inspirational music.

She sits at her easel. I pace around in front of mine.

Michele uses tiny soft brushes. I use big house painting brushes for much of my work.

She discovers her imagery through stream of consciousness dreaming. I am replicating the vision I was assigned.

She likes to focus on one work at a time, and linger over it. I have multiple pieces going at once, at different stages of completion, and I compulsively push them towards resolution.

Michele doesn’t know what she is going…

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Painting and the Art of Conversation

“Like Clockwork” by Michele Bledsoe

When I paint

I don’t make preliminary sketches

I don’t plan anything out beforehand..

I just sit at my easel

and dream.

It is a spontaneous conversation..

an intimate, spiritual exchange

between myself and God.

Camping, Cats and the Art of Mondays

Summer is over..

and we’re back as volunteer art teachers

for a group of inner city kids.

We spent the evening as we usually do

sitting at a table

elbow to elbow

drawing pictures together.

Can’t think of a better way to spend a Monday night..

This cat looks a lot like my grandma. I must have been thinking about her while I was drawing.

“Molly Pitcher” by my husband, Richard.

Cats were a recurring theme… This one has a butterfly on her nose.

Portrait of the artist on the balcony of her apartment.

Singing in the tent, camping under the night sky.