art
Family-themed art is a look into one's living room; it depicts celebration, crises, and the quiet moments of familial interactions.
Creating a Child's Paper Paradise
Growing up, my brother and I have always craved creativity. Whether constructing spaceships out of cardboard boxes, drawing outside the lines in homemade coloring books, or using markers to paint on our faces, our imaginations ran wild. We were just as wild, and our parents needed to keep our butts in seats and the mess to a minimum. That is where construction paper came in, and our love for it was immediate.
By Antonio Tovar5 years ago in Families
Lessons Learned from a Discarded Bridal Gown
Sometimes life just teaches you the hardest lessons, even if you are not ready for them. In 2013, my husband of more than 30 years walked into our living room and announced that he did not want me, or any of my “stuff”. Clearly we had been having some rough spots, but divorce never entered my mind. Events happened quickly and before I knew it, I was packing up our belongings to move on to the next chapter. He left all of that to me…the memories, the tears, the hurt.
By Terry John5 years ago in Families
The Joy of Crocheting Creation
I've always considered myself a creative thinking person. I'm not always able to express it but I love to create artistic and tedious things. I like t0 draw, write poetry & create stories, design clothes and create & discover different beautiful hairstyles for my girls. Recently I have been discovering my skill at Crocheting.
By Samirra Elsaieh5 years ago in Families
Lola
When I was five years old, I learned to sew from my Lola - my grandma. We used old hand towels to make dolls back then, because we didn’t have much money to spend on new fabric between the two of us. I would take unused napkins from restaurants to make our dolls’ robes and fastened hair ties along their waists to save them from unexpected indecency. I remember wanting to give the first doll we made together some hair; I didn’t want her head to get cold in the winter. But as a five year old, I couldn’t fathom how to inexpensively provide a hair transplant to my new, bald companion. My Lola told me to bring her scissors and to choose my favorite color from her well-aged collection of embroidery threads. I chose turquoise, and she thought it was an ugly color for a doll’s hair, but went on to oblige my outlandish wishes as any loving grandmother would. I still remember how awestruck I was when she effortlessly sewed long, loose seams perpendicularly down the center of my doll’s head. My Lola neatly trimmed my doll’s fresh locks of turquoise embroidery floss as if it was nothing. My doll now had a short bowl cut resembling mine - the affectionate hairstyle staple of all Asian grandmothers worldwide. As a final touch to our creation, I scribbled on a humble, lopsided smiley face with a neon blue highlighter that happened to be in arms reach. When my Mom returned home from work later that evening, I ran to greet her with my new friend.
By Lissa Carandang-Sweeney5 years ago in Families
Generations of Inspiration
It is funny to think that a pair of scissors can define someone’s life and be such a poignant part of her development. In my house, a single pair of scissors represents three generations of creative, smart and driven women, all talented in a different area of the arts and all connected by one pair of sewing scissors. Our journey began when my grandmother, Esther, immigrated from Italy to New York City in 1929 with her mother. As an immigrant family, they had nothing but the shirts on their backs, a small apartment in Brooklyn and all the pots and pans they could carry. Esther’s father, Sevario, had traveled to America before his family to settle in, in hopes of becoming a chef in the land of opportunities. He practiced his art with his pots and pans and went out daily looking for jobs. Esther’s mother, Diamante, found a job sewing slip straps in a local factory to help support their growing family. Shortly after the couple had two sons, Sevario tragically passed away, leaving his wife and children behind with nothing and no one, in a foreign country.
By Emmalyn Miron5 years ago in Families
Like Father Like Daughter
Most boys as kids were excited by the idea of playing with dinosaurs or G.I. Joe figurines. Chris Gennaro, however, loved playing with his sister’s Barbie Dolls and creating new clothing statements for them. He would not only create clothes for the dolls, but he would also use scissors to cut up old shoe boxes and make furnishings for his pet rats. His passion for fashion never faltered, leading him in Middle school to approach his Youth Pastor about his sewing gift. He loved to sew and make clothes and wanted to use his gift to serve God. He was not quite satisfied with the answer he gave him, which was to make clothes for missionaries. He knew he could do more. Dad was always one to help others and he knew there was something out there for him where he could really make a difference. In college he met my mom, got married and even made her wedding dress. He majored in Graphic design to utilize the skills most closely he had curated from childhood. For his final project, he made dresses for the women in his family including his mom, wife, and sister-in-law. The dress he made for his sister-in-law was put on display and his wife and mom modeled the dresses in person that were made for them. He was working towards something big in his life.
By Olivia Gennaro5 years ago in Families
Horsey Gravitations
The picture of my grand father, decked out in cowboy gear of the 1920’s, was my only validation, for being a horse crazy girl, while pretty much everybody else in my family was not! I tell people I ‘grew up’ around horses, which was true but did not mean that I was around my grandpa or his ranch; both were gone before I was born. More accurately it meant I did what every truly horse crazy girl does, and that is gravitate to wherever you can, to be as near as you can, to anything that was remotely equine related. There was going to pony ring rides just to wish and watch. Reading every book ever written by Marguerite Henry and Walter Farley. Using hard earned allowance money to buy “Western Horseman” magazine because of the pictures; attend Pasadena Rose Bowl parade to count all the horses in it; watch livestock auctions while I sat on my hands; feeding thoroughbreds at Portland Meadows race track before going to school; trail guiding for free at a Tacoma riding stable of rental horses; making school friends who were also horse owners that promised I could ride their horse, as soon as I finished cleaning out their stall, and the most telling experience of horse crazy girls is, 'making friends' with any horse alone in a pasture and standing near the fence. My head and heart have lied in Horseland as long as I can remember.
By PEIGI Midey5 years ago in Families
