Larry is a Vietnam veteran and is confined to his bed. He has made the most of it by illustrating his patriotism in large drawings.
He draws 8 to 12 hours in one day.
“I get lost in my art. Sometimes I don’t even know I’m in bed.” he says.
“When I look at a piece of white paper, I see it done. I have more creative ideas that I can do.”
Ardis, 90 is doing a “friends” series. Here is one of her pictures. When I saw it, I told her that I thought I saw an elephant.
“It can be anything you want it to be,” she replied with a smile. Ardis paints out of her heart and does not judge what comes out on paper. It is about the fun of expression and the feeling of getting it all down on paper in a colorful picture.
David has many moods. Painting in dark and heavy colors is his forte one day and the next day he paints in bright colors and light rhythmic strokes. His pictures are always well-balanced in color and form. That is because he was a photographer in younger days He recently painted 3 pictures of lines bursting from the center. He wants to have them matted.
We were hanging out, about 4 of us, in the end-stage Alzheimer’s unit. There was plenty of paper. Richard picked up a round brush, dipped it in water and then in each color until he had every color on the brush. He started dabbing it on the paper. It was a very dark blackish color. When it dried, we were all looking at it. I thought we might be able to turn it into something. I shared several ideas and then asked Richard’s permission to paint on his picture. He nodded and I told a story as the blobs turned into human bodies, that had many of the features of those sitting at the table. Together we decided to make it a rainy picture. Another fellow, Norman, said we didn’t need the center umbrella because they were already protected from the rain with the two outside umbrellas. Interesting observation!
Smiling, Robert raised his tired body up into a sitting position when I entered his room in skilled nursing care. He is usually in a horizontal position. I dig through my supplies and pull out watercolors and two nice number 8 brushes. Together we clear off the bed table of the wadded up kleenex, magazines, and used glasses and it becomes an art table with two blank pieces of watercolor paper. We sit together for an hour, each of us quietly painting, concentrating, remembering memories, painting memories. I painted a picture of my father holding me as a little girl on his lap and reading to me. Robert painted a face but was unable to communicate with words his thoughts. The face was well communicated and artfully done. Smiling, Robert, with an energized spirit, went back to being horizontal. It is my hope that he rested with satisfaction.