Ode to an artist

I have an artsy-ish streak, but the real artist in my family was my mother. Today, were she living, would have been her 63rd birthday.

After the age of 4, I never again lived with my mother. But she was always present in my life -- always Momma. And one of the things I remember most about her was her art. She was particularly gifted with pen and ink. Highly detailed. Jaw-droppingly impressive.

She was especially fond of science fiction, so her art often had a sci-fi appearance. It was wildly imaginative.

When I was a little girl, my mother would sit with colored markers and optical illusion coloring books (the very ones I still see today in homeschool magazines), and she would color for what seemed like hours. Her vision of those geometric designs -- well, let me just tell you, she could work magic with those markers.

Over the course of time and some extremely difficulty circumstances, most everything that once belonged to my Momma has been lost. As to her art, I have only two examples that I can think of -- a set of paperdolls she made for Emma, and a card she sent to me when I was on Summer Beach Project in 1987. I pulled the latter one down out of my little scrapbook desk, where I keep it for inspiration, and took a few photos of it. That's what you've been viewing as you read this post -- a little gift of art, from my Momma: Betty Irene Russell, October 1945-August 1997.

You can read more about my mom on last year's birthday post.

And thanks for reading. I wanted the world to see her art.