by Marty Coleman | Dec 1, 2014 | Visual Poems | Photos |
Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition
Every three years the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery in Washington, D.C. holds a juried portrait competition. The process is very competitive, as you might imagine when the first prize money is $25,000.00. The time frame is long. The semi-finalists will be announced in March, 2015. They will then send their actual work for consideration and the finalists in September, 2015. The exhibition will open in March, 2016.
I waited until the last day to enter this year. I had created a portrait collage earlier in 2014, using photos taken of my friend, the Meteorologist, Brittany Rainey, at Philbrook Museum of Art and at her home. It is one in a series called ‘Visual Poems’ that includes images and written text. It’s also a continuation of my long-term ongoing series, ‘IN Public/Private’ on public personalities in Tulsa, primarily TV news anchors and reporters.

The Meteorologist’s Poem
Here is the image reduced in size. The printed image should be around 4 feet wide.
I also sent a closeup detail so they could get a better idea of the piece.

Find more of the Visual Poems Series here
Find the ‘IN Public/Private’ series here
_____________________
Photo-collage by Marty Coleman
Model – Brittany Rainey
_____________________
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Marty Coleman | Nov 27, 2014 | Thanksgiving |
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
I thought it would be cool this year to show a selection of drawings from past Thanksgivings. Some have links back to the original post, others don’t because the original post was just the drawing.
2013

Original Post – Perfect vs Wonderful
______________________
2011

Original post – The Gratitude of Escape
________________________
2010




_________________________
2009
I did a 5 part series on gratitude that year.





________________________
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Marty Coleman | Nov 24, 2014 | George Will, The Future - 2014 |
This is yesterday’s future napkin.

The Unannounced Life
My late father, Skeets Coleman, home from World War II, did not return to Iowa where he was raised but instead stayed in the San Diego area and operated the Del Mar Airport in the late 40s. The secretary he hired? She, Dorothy Lee Powell, became his wife and my mother.
My late ex-father-in-law from California, Dwight Johnson, was in military training in Vermont back in the Korean War era. He needed an ironing board and being the do-it-yourself type, he went to the local hardware/lumber yard to get a flat 1×6 piece of wood to use for that purpose. The person who sold him the board? She, Vivian Lambert, became his wife.
In the 70s I transferred to UC Santa Barbara after having left a college on the East Coast. I got involved with a Student Christian group on campus. At a Halloween party I met a girl dressed up as Pippie Longstockings. She, Kathy Johnson, later became my wife.
In 2000 my oldest daughter, Rebekah Coleman, left Oklahoma and went to St. John’s College in Maryland. One of the first people she met, Patrick Evans, is now her husband.
After my divorce in 2000 I started dating via online dating services. Unbeknownst to me a woman, Linda Reynolds, divorced a few years before, also was dating online. We had a date and 3 years later we were married. I gained a step-daughter, Caitlin Reynolds.
In 2011 my 2nd youngest daughter, Chelsea Coleman, moved to Berkeley to escape the cold and dreary winter in Seattle while her then husband was deployed for 6 months. She started playing music with various people. One person she played with, Graham Patzner, became a friend, and after her marriage ended in divorce, they started to date.
How the Future Arrives
My point in reciting this family history is simple. To remind myself that the future arrives unannounced every day. Whether it’s for good or bad, all our planning and organizing of life will never overcome that one inescapable truth. When we understand and accept that, our lives become easier and happier.
The Result is Thanksgiving
One result of these unannounced futures is that I am now Papa Marty and Linda is MeeMee to Vivian Isabel Evans and Otis Martin Coleman-Patzner. Another result is we are headed to Dallas for the Thanksgiving weekend to visit Caitlin and go to the Dallas Cowboys football game.
And for all those futures past, I am filled with gratitude and thanksgiving.
__________________
Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman
Quote by George Will, 1941-not dead yet, American writer and political pundit
___________________
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Marty Coleman | Nov 21, 2014 | Illustrated Short Stories

Prologue
The Belly Dancer was glad the final pose in her debut as a figure model for the art class was laying down. She was also glad she could close her eyes because then she wouldn’t have to look at the hideously scary painting of a wolf that was on the wall behind her.
At the last minute she decided to get her scimitar and use it as a prop in the pose. She knew it would create drama, adding an exotic and dangerous element to her character. While she knew it was unlikely the artists drawing her would understand, when she danced she became Zaira, The Rose Princess of the Tribe. She changed from being the dutiful daughter, the loyal office worker, and the meek sister into the strong and courageous Princess.
Chapter One
The room was warm and the pose was easy. Soon she had closed her eyes and fallen into a dreaming sleep. She dreamt she was alone in the hot desert of North Africa. She was out searching for her little brother, who had not returned after a day in which he had supposedly gone out to catch lizards in the dunes with friends. It was now night under a full moon and the family had spread out across the desert to find him. She was given the direction due south, towards the small group of hills that made the southern border of their tribe’s land. She was about a mile from their home when she heard the howls.
Chapter Two
Howling was not uncommon in her land but it was always far away. This time it was very close. She walked faster along a line of date trees that were fed by a small spring to the west. She knew the trees would lead to the edge of the hills and that would likely be where her brother would go if he were stuck in the desert at night. It was also where the howling had come from. The moon had partially disappeared behind the hills by the time she reached their start. She could see shadows cast by jagged rock outcroppings. It made for a disconcerting scene.
Chapter Three
Just as she was about to call her brother’s name she heard a rustling behind her. She turned to see another large shadow, also appearing to be of jagged rocks. Then the shadow moved. Then the shadow snarled. She was able to see now that it was a large wolf, bristling hair high up on it’s neck and back. It’s head was lowered and it started pacing back and forth in front of her. Every turn it made it took a step closer as well. She was able to see as it got closer that it’s mouth was dripping something. When it turned again and came another step closer she could see it was blood.
Chapter Four
She had been taught to hunt by her father, a rarity among the women of her tribe. But he had told her that the hunted doesn’t care of you are a woman or a man. If they sense fear they will attack. He wanted everyone in his family to be able to protect themselves and anyone else in the family, no matter what they were born as. She was thankful for her upbringing even when it meant she was teased by the boys and girls in her tribe.
Chapter Five
She slowly put her left hand over her head and reached behind to her back. She drew out her scimitar from its sheath and brought it to the front. With her right hand she drew out the knife she had in her belt. The wolf sensed his prey getting ready to defend itself and attacked swiftly. He ran directly at her, a distance of about 20 feet. It took no more than 3 leaps before he was airborne with his teeth bared, aiming for her neck. She was able to fall to her left as he passed over. As he went by she thrust upward with her knife, piercing his chest on the right side. He collapsed as he hit the ground. A second later he was back up. He turned, exhaling and coughing. She knew she had hit his lungs. She knew she had but a moment to do what she knew was next. Instead of waiting for him to attack she ran towards his wounded right side. He was not able to turn quickly in that direction and before he could get around to face her she had struck a blow on his neck with her sword. He fell to the ground, his spinal cord cut.
Chapter Six
She didn’t have to take a second look at her foe. She knew he was dead. She turned back to her task, calling her brother’s name while running around the nearest rocky rise to see if he was behind it. She was worried that the blood on the wolf’s mouth had been that of her brother. She was prepared to see her brother dead and mangled somewhere close by. When she came around the rocks she did indeed see a mangled and bloody body. But it was not of her brother but of a young lamb. She called again as she walked deeper among the rocks. A few moments later she heard his faint voice responding. The voice was above her. She looked up and saw her brother standing on a single pillar of rock, no wider than he was.
Chapter Seven
Zaira returned to her family’s home with her brother about 3 hours after she had left. They were welcomed back with love and tears. She told the story of her search, the fight with the wolf and how her brother was smart enough to escape the wolf by climbing up a high and precarious set of rocks that the wolf could not climb. The family was proud of Zaira and told the story for many generations thereafter.
Epilogue
Zaira woke with a start when the drawing monitor called ‘time’s up, pose is over.’ When she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was the painting of the wolf on the wall. She laughed at the wolf and told the assembled artists, “I just killed that wolf in my dream!” They all applauded and thanked her for her heroic deed.
___________________
Drawing and story by Marty Coleman
___________________
Like this:
Like Loading...
by Marty Coleman | Nov 17, 2014 | Jean de La Fontaine, The Future - 2014 |
My Morning Destiny
I woke up at 4:30am this morning. That actually not that odd of a time for me, maybe about a 1/2 an hour earlier that my usual early start. I could have stayed in bed another 1/2 an hour but my mind had decided on ‘The Future’ as being my next series and I needed to go write it down and start researching. It’s now 11:30 and, in between checking posts from friends and families, I’ve been working on preparing the series and on this drawing for about 6 hours already.
When I found this quote today I realized I had just seen it within a day or so on Facebook. I thought it was something my friend Kimberley Blaine had posted but I couldn’t find it on her timeline so it probably was someone else.

Final Destination
Have you ever seen the movie ‘Final Destination’? It’s about a group of friends who do not get on an airplane because of a dream one of the group has while napping at the airport right before boarding that the airplane is going to explode and crash and they will all die. The airplane does in deed explode right in front of them and they are thus saved from death.
However, it now seems they have cheated death. They were suppose to die and didn’t, thus the grim reaper has to go find them and kill them. The movie is filled with crazy and convoluted ways people die. It’s gruesome and scary and funny and shocking all at the same time.
Your Destiny
Have you had this experience? It’s not uncommon in both fact and fiction. There have been many stories over the centuries of people doing everything they can to avoid their destiny when it comes knocking, only to find it where they land in their escape. It’s not just about escaping death, but many other things as well; success, failure, family, aging, disease, fame, disaster, you name it and we can be adamant about trying to avoid it and it still finds us.
________________________
Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman
Quote by Jean de La Fontaine, 1621-1695, French Poet
_________________________
“A person often meets their destiny on the road they took to avoid it”
Like this:
Like Loading...