Copyright 2015

Copyright 2015 All content and artwork on this site is protected by copyright any use in any manner without permission from Tina Corbett is prohibited.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

A Portrait in Motion

For the past couple of weeks I have been working on a commissioned portrait from my friend, Robert. He asked me to do his mom and his dad. Both photos are very old, of his parents. The pic of his dad is in better shape so I chose to do that one first. It is much easier to see. I thought it would be interesting to see it's progression. Remember these first photos were first weeks work and I have worked on it several times since these photos.

I will post the newest photos during the week. I forgot to bring my camera to the gallery today. Plus I worked on an old painting of my son, improving the values of that painting and a few others that were bothering me when I looked at them. It is funny as an artist and I am sure other artist's feel the same, a painting is never finished. You can work on it forever!

The first pic is the original photo of his dad, and then I show them at the High Spring Art Co-Op gallery as they are progressing.



Thursday, June 10, 2010

"Diamond and the Ruff"


I finally finished this painting. I painted it at the High Springs Co-Op and it is available and hanging there. You can see it on my website, www.tinacorbett.com. This was the picture I put together. Diamond our quarter horse was looking at Scooby and I when we were doing one of our daily walks. Scooby, our Great Dane, checked her out but he was not that friendly because on another day he actually stuck his head through the fence and tried to nip at her belly. Not smart on his part. She got upset and started to kick almost hitting the fence. I reprimanded Scooby hoping he will learn that biting the horse is definately not smart and dangerous. I really don't want him to learn the hard way if Diamond ever gets the opportunity to nail him with a kick.

For everything there is a season.......

So my time at LaCrosse Post Office comes to an end. this week I go back to Alachua, the detailed position has run its course, four months. I have come to realize how much I have gained being here in this small town. When I first came here the town appeared ragged and small, and the people perhaps a little strange. Now my eyes see it with affection, as a lovely untouched spot in this busy world. The people sweet, each with a story. The elderly lady in her 90’s with a lovely smile, pleasant conversation, and dressed in her pastel cotton dresses; she drives her Chrysler every day to pick up her mail. I miss her when she doesn’t come because I know she’s not feeling well. The little ladies that come in every week to pay their bills, a mobile veterinarian, a few local Hare Krishna’s who mail their little packages overseas, always kind, bringing me homemade cookies. I’ve gotten to know the daily customers from the Radio supply company across the street, that keep this little post office open with their big mailings, like an old friend. In a short, spring season a pleasant life was created here.

My lunchtime walks through town are the highlight of my day. You actually can smell the blooming flowers which grow wild amongst the overgrown trees and weeds that line the streets. It is amazing. The rusted tin roofs of the houses, the missing jalousie windows, the makeshift curtain of a confederate flag that makes for a garage door, these are my sights as I walk. The little green house with the fabulous flower garden and the house that sells the earth worms. The lonely horses, roosters, dogs, that live along the route. Even though State Road 121, a major country road for tractor trailers is a block away, the area still has that rural charm. The old beat-up cars and trailers in the back yards may look bleak to some but to me it shows that a story was once here.

This old post office building is owned by a lovely white haired woman who was postmaster for over 30 years here. She always comes in with lots of spunk and has handled every problem I have had. With roof leaks to bumble bees, that made my back room a home through a broken screen.

I was thinking back of those who have worked at this little post office and their were varied opinions. Some employees that have spent a season or two here have seen this place as a stepping stone to greater positions, others as a hindrance to future promotions. For me, it was an inspiration. Learning to appreciate the simple things around you and to take the time to see what is here in a different light. The place matters to the little people who give it life. As the years go by I may not be back and small post offices’s like this may disappear from the landscape. Perhaps because of technology and the importance that the bottom line is all that matters.

For just a season I got a taste of something special. I will remember it long after I retire as a,refreshing time, a haven. A time when working at the Post Office is the most stressed out then any other period in it’s history. It was like having a french vanilla ice cream cone on a hot summer day.