A Story for Jamie Foxx

The story of this painting is based on a time in September during the late afternoon. The kids in the neighborhood are playing football in an empty lot. It is time for piano lessons for one very energetic youth who is reluctant to come inside and retreat from running touchdowns and intercepting passes. Mrs. Estelle Talley is yelling for her grandson to have his piano lesson. This event happened almost every day, so if young Eric did not come promptly, a stinging discipline was in store. The results are obvious. Listen to the man play and sing. Thank you, Mrs. Talley.

Allen Cotton Picking, as Told by Aunt Tee

Another fall morning has arrived and the cotton needs picking. It seems so long ago, but I can remember like it was yesterday. Every year at cotton harvest time, my Daddy, brothers, and sisters in around Downsville, Louisiana, began their day picking cotton for the fields belonging to a Stoney Bearden. We picked the fields for others, but the last two were for Mr. Bearden's place. We were share croppers, so to keep food on our table and a roof on our heads, everyone had to pitch in. It was hard, so hard, but somehow we made it. You find the mules, Jack and John, pulling the wagon as they have done for some many years. Fuzz, the shaggy-haired dog, would find the time to sleep in the shade next to the tree with the Garret Snuff sign or just catch himself a mouse for something to do. I am not sure how old Fuzz came to us, but we loved that old dog. Ok and Robert were not always picking as they should, so sometimes we got hit by a wayward dirt clod. Daddy would get after them. As I look on those hard times, I know I hated the work, but somehow, I am glad I have those memories to share with my family. I believe it makes me and my siblings closer today. We shared something together, and even though it was hard, we shared laughter with a little sadness.

Altar at the Swedish Evangelical Lutheran Gethsemane

On December 12, 1868, a group of 25 Swedish immigrants gathered for the first Swedish Lutheran worship led by Reverend K. Karlen of Halland, Sweden; they determined to establish a Swedish Lutheran congregation in Austin for the many immigrants who had recently settled in this area. The Texas state capitol burned to the ground in 1881. The Swedes gathered the remaining building materials and brick and built the still standing church on the corner of Congress and 16th Street. It was dedicated November 11, 1883.

For many years our family attended this Lutheran church in downtown Austin, Texas. I remember this altar and the beautiful stained glass, where the many Swedish families and friends came to worship.

The H. L. Hunt Mansion on White Rock Lake

The owner of the original house was a Mr. Thomas Y. Pickett, who built the home in 1930. Mr. H. L. Hunt purchased the home and 10 acres of land in 1937 that included two peacocks, chickens, one cow and a calf, and furnishings for a price of $69,000. Growing up as a child in the 50s and 60s in Louisiana, there were so many stories about the oilman described from time to time as the ìwealthiest man in the world." I daydreamed on numerous occasions about what it was like to have so much money and influence.

There is much history with the Hunt families living in the Mount Vernon estate. The stories about the man and his family are legendary. After the passing of Mrs. Ruth Hunt and 60 years of family history, the estate and its 10 acres were sold to John and Teresa Amend. The home still welcomes those memories of such a grand family that was so much a part of Dallas history.

Mrs. Shirley Turner shares the early years of raising a family. Mother of Karl Malone.

There are two rooms in the house. One room was for sleeping and living and the other room was a small kitchen with a table. Baby, we had no real doors or windows, but wood openings with straps to open up the house. There was no plumbing and or electricity. A well on the outside provided our family with water we needed for drinking, bathing, and washing our clothes. An outhouse in the back was the primary toilet facility, which wasn't very pleasant, but that was the best we could come up with. In the winter, I kept the children warm by warming quilts near the fireplace and then placing them on the children's bed at night. It was tough, but we did alright.

In the front were many chickens that were always underfoot and constantly looking for something to eat, which was near the tires where the kids rolled many hours for play and fun. I had a broken down chair with a wash tub whereby we washed our clothes. The small garden was in the back where I planted my tomatoes, corn, turnip greens, okra, and watermelons. In the backyard, there was a huge pine what I called a "Bull Pine" that was short and stocky. In the distant, the man that owned the land behind me had many head of cows. As Ms. Turner told me, a home is not how large the house is, or how many rooms there are. A home is about the everlasting love and connection with the family in the home. Bringing and keeping those memories alive is up to us all no matter where you live or come from. I believe she understood about what it takes to love a family.

Cowboy's Tenderness

On a long day, a Texas cowboy, just outside of Peeltown, Texas, has just finished hauling hay from the field to the barn. He has checked on the cows and horses. A new calf was born to a tired cow, but everything was okay. The cowboy's bones were so tired from moving heavy bales, he could not wait until he had a chance to find peaceful rest. Arriving at home, Buck, a friend for 15 years, is wagging his tale for some petting and special attention. The tired cowboy stops and rests on the side of the old Chevy. Rough, blistered old hands tenderly stroke his friend ever so gently to offer thanks for his many years of loyalty.

Morley Ranch and old Diggs

The home rests on a hill above a large pond/lake of approximately 30 acres in size in Elmo, Texas. Before the boat could be loaded with fishing gear, Diggs, an energetic golden lab is ready for a great boat ride and a little fishing action. If the fishing was slow and Diggs got bored, he jumps in the water and swims back to take a nap on the porch. A life I would love to have.

W's Road--a Story of Life's Road for George W. Bush

The 'Road' begins by winding through a typical Texas spring/summer day with Mesquite trees among fields of Texas bluebonnets. A young George W. Bush, who just got back from riding his bicycle all around Midland, stops to daydream on the front porch of his Midland home of what life has in store for him. I am sure that it included sports, success, leadership, money, and just all out fun.

As the journey continues, we stop at the oil fields of Texas and proceed to the Ball Park in Arlington. The political landscape begins to take shape and a call for public service stops us at the Governor's mansion and the State Capitol under the embrace of the Texas Flag.

Building on the success of the Texas Governorship, a new road emerges and we stop at the White House and U.S. Capital, now under the umbrella and shadow of the mighty U.S. Flag. The story in the painting concludes with a stop at the Crawford Ranch. I am sure the President will have other stopping points after his political life, but through his professed faith in God and family, the road will always continue.

Mama's Quilt

Mama has just washed each of her special quilts and placed them on the front rail fence to dry in rural Tennessee. Lucy, a brown lab and a neighbor's pet, cannot resist pulling those quilts down from their drying place. Mama has caught the mischevious pup in his act and is scolding him for his efforts. A switch on his behind is sure to come next.

Frisco Early 1900

On an early Saturday Morning in or around the summer of 1910 in Frisco, Texas, the train has almost reached the Frisco Depot delivering passengers, mail, cattle, and just excitement for the local farmers and merchants. Almost everyone in and around the community has come to Frisco to shop, visit friends, sell their farm produce, and to catch up on the news of the day. The train is a part of the early Frisco Railway that connected communities throughout Texas and beyond. If you look closely, you may find the local school mascot distributed throughout the painting.

Praying for the Stars and Stripes

The United States of America, that I truly love, is moving in directions that are hard to understand and even grasp. Some of these changes move beyond our basic Judeo Christian faith of a belief in God and Country. I feel like it is important that we offer a prayer of thanks when we see our Stars and Stripes. God has blessed this nation in every possible way. Let us not forget what got us here.

Kaufman, Texas on the Square in 1910

The town of Kaufman, Texas comes alive almost every Saturday with farmers and town folk looking to purchase the next weeksí necessities and new clothes, selling their produce, and hearing the news of the nation. The Courthouse is the cornerstone of the downtown and creates a charming backdrop for the stylish architecture repeated in county facilities constructed during early 20th Century. The work represents the huge shift and change in transportation being used in early 1900 with the introduction of the motor vehicle.

The Wynne Place

A beautiful Victorian home constructed around the late 1800s, located in a rural North Texas town. It is summer and oh so hot. A friend's wife, who has not been able to walk for a number of years, stands very proud on the front porch. Her courage to constantly battle the disease that has willfully taken some of her freedom is ever so inspirational.

Methodist Stained Glass

I used to sing at the Kaufman United Methodist Church choir. In the choir loft, this beautiful stained glass window faced me every Sunday, recapping the story of the Good Samaritan. During times of my constant day dreaming and unfocused mindless wandering, I embarked on the idea to capture the story of this stained glass piece in watercolor. This is the result. A good story retold through a somewhat different media.

The First Presbyterian Church in late 1800s

The traveling minister has just arrived before the rest of the folk in around Kaufman, Texas. It has been a long ride from Dallas to provide the families of this congregation a little spiritual enthusiasm and good fundamental Bible teaching. The leaves have turned and Thanksgiving is around the corner. No one has yet arrived, so maybe he can light the wood fireplace to provide some warmth. It will be a good day.

Oak Alley Plantation-Vacherie, Louisiana

Originally named Bon Sejour, Oak Alley was built in 1837-39 by George Swainey for Jacques Telesphore Roman, brother of Andre Roman who was twice governor of Louisiana. Joseph Pilie, Jacques Telesphore Roman's father-in-law, was an architect and is thought to have provided the design of Oak Alley. Oak Alley's most distinguishing architectural feature is a full peripteral (free-standing) colonnade of 28 colossal Doric columns. Such plantation houses were once scattered along the Mississippi valley, though Oak Alley is probably the finest of those remaining. In 1866, Oak Alley was sold at auction to John Armstrong. Equally significant is the impressive double row of giant live oak trees which form the oak alley, about 800 feet long, from which the property derived its present name. Planted before the house was constructed in 1837, this formal planting is a historic landscape design long recognized for its beauty. It is one impressive plantation.

Wes and Foye Fulce Story

Wes and Foye Fulce lived in this home from 1945. The original structure was built in 1940, but burned and was rebuilt in 1945. They had four daughters and two sons: Wayne, Martha, Gladys, Talmage (T.O.), Juanita, Eugene, and Sylvia. The home today has some additions that change the look of the home of yesterday, but the warmth that Wes and Foye brought to the place is ever-present in the walls of the old home and surrounding trees.

The red and green lawn chairs, the cocky red rooster, a 59 Chevy Truck (Big Red), the back yard chicken coop, beautiful purple irises, unique gliders chairs on the front porch, and a red tricycle belong to a collection of great memories of the Fulce family. I always felt that a grandchild in this family would experience warmth, good times, and unconditional love at Grandmamma and Granddad's.

Allen Estate in Terrell, Texas

This classic English Tudor home is located on Griffith Street in Terrell, Texas. There are so many great homes in the City of Terrell that were built in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The home was built for Walter Payne Allen and his bride, America Cartwright Allen, on a 5-acre lot for which they paid $2,500 in 1902. The red brick, stucco, half-timber and tile work provided so many interesting textures to work in the painting of the home. I love how the contrasting shadows in the foreground prepare visually the architectural beauty of the home and how the tile roof unifies all of the textures and colors.

A Beautiful Walk

I am walking through a simple, dusty road very similar to the roads found in all parts of the U.S. It is in the fall, the colors of the leaves so intense. The wonderful feeling you get before winter begins and the air is cool and refreshed. I leave one road to take another one. In life we move down numerous roads searching for what is around the next corner, because we know life has to move. As I enter the new road, I stop and look at how far I have to go before the road ends or my next path begins. I then become afraid to take the next step. My past experiences have reminded me that the long journey down this road could be painful with heartache and stress. I see beauty, but I resist. I am embraced by the unfairness of it all. I do not know what to do. I just stop.

Out of nowhere a set of footprints appear next to mine. Then they just disappear. A force pushes me forward. I think those footprints are God's and he is pushing me hard to continue my journey. To me He is saying, "Go that way. Keep walking. Put one step in front of the other and another and another. I know it is not easy, but each step leads to the next. It is your path. "Reluctantly, I take the walk very slowly in a slow winding path. In the painting you can see other footprints join mine as I walk this path. I believe that God is always with us, but others become his footprints. I believe that is how God shows us the way--through other people. Sometimes those footprints belong to family members, friends, angels, and even strangers who walk with us. They give us encouragement and even help share the load.

The real truth and reward about this journey is that when we become the footprints showing others the way, we began to find comfort and peace. The chains that bind us, in trying to understand why, begin to loosen. Our hollow repeat of questioning purpose and unfairness seems to faint and disappear. Our path then begins to reveal life's true purpose and we see God's grace. As we approach the end of this particular walk, we then turn back and say, "What a beautiful walk."