By W.R. Jones
The CafeCrem writers are posting full photos so I decided I might as well put this picture here as well. I’ve had this painting on the easel for quite a while now (don’t want to give the actual dates as it is embarrassing). I have been unable to finish and in fact have changed the painting completely several times. Perhaps I should see a doctor, and I would if there were a guarantee of some drugs. But I think he would just say I didn’t want to let go of youth and the promise of this beautiful young woman.
On another track – This morning while driving to work I remembered an incident from my youth. I was 16 or 17 at the time and driving down a two lane Iowa highway. I felt something crawling under my jeans on my right leg just above the calf. Thinking it was a fly I reached down to squash it. However, when I felt the size I realized it was a bumblebee and became fearful that if I didn’t kill it cleanly I was going to be stung while driving. I reached down to pull my pant leg up far enough so it could get out. This didn’t work. It kept going further and further up my leg while I grew ever more fearful. Finally it reached my nuts and I was damn near panicked that it would sting and I would drive into a tree. The car was a 1940 Buick stick shift so I had to worry about the clutch, brake, and gas pedal. Worry? Yep, at this point I did not want to move my legs at all to touch any pedal as I thought it might piss off the bee.
For minimum movement of my legs I shifted into neutral and let the car coast to a stop then used the hand brake. As this was a two lane road, a line of cars had accumulated behind me. I opened the door and gingerly rotated my legs to get out. Once out of the car I dropped my pants to free the bee. The people in the car behind me were doubled over in laughter. I don’t know if they could see the bee fly away. As luck would have it, they did not have cell phones or digital cameras in those days. If if were to happen today I would be on youtube standing on an Iowa road in my skivvies.
On Painting 
This is really a funny story to read NOW, but at the time I know for a fact it was terrible. I DID have a bee sting me because it was trapped in between my leg and my pants. We had just left a bookstore and my husband and I were on the way back to the car. I felt a sharp zing and knew I had been stung. Rob drove to the nearest drug store and parked illegally to run in and get some antihitamine spray andan emergency ice pack (the kind you break to activate). In the mean time I’m sitting in the car explaining to a traffic cop WHY we were illegally parked. Once he saw the swelling on my leg he stayed with me and then didn’t ticket us. Nice guy!
Thanks for visiting Bonny’s Coffee Cups. I’ll save you a slice of the chocolate filled calzone you see in the banner :))
I often looked at the little figures of your avatar and tried to figure them out. Now I understand them. Those are fancy work clothes. And a cute model. Is that a poppy field behind her?
I like painting in a more formal atmosphere. The field is just something I made up and in fact is why I’m stuck at the moment (quite a bit longer than a moment actually). I’m not sure what I want to do with it. Hidden by myself is the falcon she is holding in a gloved hand. In the hand that is showing I had a bloody bit of rabbit but painted that out to replace it with a hood. I don’t know when if ever I will finish this piece. There is something about the model’s face that I like to have looking at me across the room. She seems so happy in a long ago time.
Jesus, don’t give me the details of the sting. I will start having nightmares of what might have been.
Oooh, that dessert does look good. I would like a smigeon of vanilla ice cream with it if you don’t mind.
Nuh-uh. Don’t let this picture fool you for one minute. Bill normally looks like a brick layer when he paints. You can’t stand anywhere near him without getting turp and paint slung on you from all the sloshing he does. He also chain smokes cigarettes, and coughs up phlegm, and curses wildly like he was born in a barn.
…wait, that’s Jackson Pollock I’m describing. Okay. I lied. But he does NOT wear a suit!
That’s it, now I am going to photograph myself in a prom dress holding my palette.
For God’s sake Lisa, I’m never sharing a secret with you again.
A grey three-piece lounge suit… oh, my! And not a spot of paint to be seen! (Most working artists of my acquaintance dress like sewer-workers with more paint dappled on them than on the palette!)
I remember seeing a photo of Repin in the same pose… is Bill getting ideas? ;-)
Vara
I think I got this pose from another Russian, Fechin.
Bill, you were wondering about a video of the Novokuznetsk choir. I was unable to find such yet, but, there is a photo of the ensemble on this page: http://tolstokulakov.narod.ru/a_tolst.htm
Sorry, but the page is in Russian (and concerns its director Angelina Tolstokulakova), however, the photo is self-explanatory.
Vara
Thanks.
The painting is lovely, the bee story is hiLARious!
My wife, Anna, and I were fishing at a state lake next to the Kansas State Highway. It was terrible hot it was, as the semi-trailor truck pulled off to the side of the road. The driver got out of his truck and his dog followed him. He walked out to the end of the pier and removed all of his clothes except for his skivvies, thank God, and jumbed right in. So we can relate to the person who had followed behind you and your bumble bee. I bet they never forgot the incident. Hehehe
Oh, the girl in your painting, I believe she is so happy because the hawk returned to her with a message attached to its’ talon. The message read ….