watercolor, pastel painting of abstract calla lily by emily weil

daily painting | abstract calla lily

Hanging out here at Smith Ranch nursing/rehab facility in San Rafael with my recovering brother, Jamey, three+ weeks after he had a sizable malignant tumor removed from his cranium, similar to John McCain’s. I did this abstract calla lily about a month ago, before this frightening avalanche hit, working with watercolors and ink and pastels. Really enjoyed it. Haven’t painted much since then as I’ve been mostly camping out in my brother’s hospital room. He was moved to the rehab spot last week (surgery was at UCSF), and the PT teams were working him, getting his muscles stronger and helping him de-wobble. Which meant I could take out my paints a bit and catch up on laundry.

Except I just found out this morning his next move is into hospice, as he’s not strong enough for radiation — it would weaken him and only would buy a bit of time. Time which would be miserable.

I’m kind of numb, really. Spending lots of time with bro as he struggles to understand what’s happening. His brain has served him well throughout his life, so since it is now turning on him, it’s confusing and upsetting for this accomplished brainiac. He’s an MIT grad (with scholarship) and got his PhD at UC Berkeley in engineering (and he tells great stories of working as a house painter to pay for grad school in the 1970s, including being part of a team that painted Francis Ford Coppola’s office building in North Beach in SF which involved some intricate problem-solving). Always been quite brilliant and good at figuring shit out — he worked as an administrative law judge for the CA Public Utilities Commission (among other career accomplishments) and fought for all of us when Pac Bell or PG&E wanted to unfairly hike up our rates. He’s my one remaining sibling, and has always been my hero (he’s nine years older and as a little girl I worshipped him) and he’s getting ready to leave the planet and I hardly know how to soak up this information. He turns 79 next month. The same age as dad was when he died.

But at the same time I am happy to be with him and help look after him. We have many lovely tender moments, as he lets me into his heart. He sometimes recounts memories — he’s fuzzy on his current situation, but one afternoon talked about our childhood neighbor Carolyn’s grandfather, Grampa Louie who taught meat-cutting classes for years at San Quentin to the prisoners. Not kidding. And dear Carolyn, who babysat me and little sister when we were very young, got a kick out of hearing me recount that story.

Life and death and sickness and here we are, living and dying. I am surrounded on all sides by loving friends and family members who root for me and my brother. Jamey may not be long for this world, but he is loved and respected and adored by many people. And they love me too. And I am grateful for this large and rich and multi-layered existence, truly.

30″ x 22″ ink, pastel, pencil, watercolor on paper

 

 

 

watercolor painting of calla lilies by emily weil

daily painting | lilies

Sweetness and light! Calla lilies are blooming again. And I never tire of their beauty or of using them as subject matter. Why are they so compellingly lovely, Springtime after Springtime? ONE | enormous, dinner-plate sized velvety petals that curve around the stamen with drama and grace. TWO | they pop up around every corner at this time of year. THREE | they are impeccably designed. FOUR | the way light flows around, over and behind their white skirts. FIVE | all their bits are sensual and sexy.

My mom always dismissed them when I sang their praises. “They are just big weeds,” she would say. Which made me love them even more. I always thought they were criminally underappreciated. It’s as if they are so sophisticated and grown-up — like a fancy, perfectly decorated, magazine-cover Manhattan high-rise living room in a 1940 film noir as opposed to a John Waters movie set boudoir with fluffy pink bedspreads and cartoony teddy bears and dolls (apologies if your rooms have lots of cuddly toys; I actually have a soft little pink bunny named Coral that I hug at night sometimes for comfort).

My heart felt happy and complete when I found these yesterday

7″ x 10″ watercolor, pen, acrylic on paper = $90 — SOLD

 

 

 

watercolor painting of calla lilies by emily weil

daily painting | april callas

“I relinquish all resistance to the present moment.” That’s my mantra today (thank you Eckhart Tolle); I stumbled into Monday morning feeling drugged. I think someone slipped me a grief Mickey. My vocab is that of a demented magpie and I seem to be in the intense process of rooting out family sorrows, which is all mixed up with my sister’s illness and death. Slogging onward, but progressing. This too shall piss. Uh, pass.

But still, aren’t calla lilies amazing? I am madly in love with them and my ardor is not fading. They are all over the place, growing in many unexpected corners, and the gorgeous Georgia O’Keefe simplicity of the unfurling blooms takes my breath away. I am quite greedy for them. This arrangement, gracing my coffee table, inspired me. I hesitated, thinking, Jeez, haven’t I done enough calla lilies, already? Nope. They are endlessly lovely, and I will keep painting them. Spring gifts — beautiful bird songs out the window, swallows returning to build their mud nests, grassy green hills, explosions of California poppies. What wonderful feasts for the senses. And I’m hungry.

9″ x 12″ watercolor, pen, acrylic ink on paper = $140

 

 

 

painting of Marin Lilies by Emily Weil

daily painting | marin lilies

Anyone watching the impeachment trial? Jamie Raskin is my new hero. The House lawyers are presenting a strong and dramatic case, and what gob-smacks me is that Raskin is doing a terrific job after losing his troubled son, who was in law school, to suicide last December. My sister died in November and I can barely rub two neurons together, so I admire Mr Raskin and have great respect for him. Talk about grit. (By the way why is no one talking about how gleeful Putin must be these days, watching our troubles?)

So here’s the latest addition to my collection of calla lily paintings. There is a secret stash of lily plants I pilfer from; they bloom every year in a neglected corner of a certain spot in Marin County. I suppose I shouldn’t help myself but I don’t think the flowers are missed, and I only take one or two blooms. Surreptitiously. Which gives me a thrill, kind of like when I shoplifted costume jewelry from Woolworth’s in Corte Madera when I was 13 (my criminal career was a short one after I nearly got caught). Maybe I’ll turn into the cliche of the old woman klepto. Don’t know. Maybe you should keep an eye on me.

10″ x 7″ watercolor, pen, acrylic ink on paper = $90

 

 

 

daily painting | crab cove calla

Aaahh… the time of year my favorite flower blooms. Spotted this glory at Crab Cove, and no I will not divulge my secret stash of overlooked Calla Lily plants somewhere in the bay area where I can swipe a few and no one pays any mind. The simplicity of this flower! The sexually suggestive “spadix” — isn’t that a fabulous word? — stunning. How they unfurl when  blossoming, like a sail. The creamy whiteness of the “petals” (actually the scientific name is “spathe” and aren’t you excited to learn such trivia?). There is something cosmic and magical about these beauties and I can’t get enough of them, which is obvious if you’ve seen past blog-posts. The challenge for me is to keep the painting uncomplicated and not noodle around too much, avoiding adding details that only distract. I love juicy simplicity. Which is a good thing, as life during Covid has been pared down to fewer elements — simple exercise, an afternoon on a socially-distant beach, cooking soup, Zooming with friends, playing with pen and ink and watercolor. Grieving. Challenging days, now. But I know there is much to look forward to when it’s safer out there in the world to roam around and travel and go to a favorite cafe and hug our friends. Holding on to those visions during my darker, sadder days, which helps.

8″ x 7″ watercolor, pen, acrylic ink on paper = $75