metairie

Are You Ready for Some Kickball?!

YCL Art Leave a comment

Are You Ready For Some Kickball?! 22″x28″ acrylic on canvas

It was roughly 1982, and I was attending Phoebe Hearst Elementary School in Metairie, LA. Our P.E. uniforms were all green, with our school logo in yellow, not the most fashionable attire, but I don’t think school uniforms ever really are.

So with my favorite pair of green tennis shoes , my sweatband in place & my jock socks pulled up all the way, I was ready for some kickball action. I was the tallest & lankiest kid in my class and I was never really good at any sports, but one sport I was pretty good at was kickball.

There were several perks about this particular sport that seemed to work in my favor such as but not limited to:

  1. The ball was big & red, which definitely was a bonus for my poor vision.
  2. Unlike other sports, it was customary for the person serving the ball to ask you “How do you want it?” My response was always the same: “Slow and Bouncy!”
  3. The 2 previous perks allowed me enough time to brace myself, prepare my ridiculously long leg to swing, and with the bounce element factored in, I was also able to time my large foot exactly where it needed to be: right under the ball as it was coming down from a bounce.

With all the above in place, I swung with all my might, sending the giant red ball farther than most anyone in my age group, but never far enough for a home run. Though I had pretty decent kicking skills, my awkward stature made me a super slow runner. Either way, at the very least, I was able to impress the masses with my kicking ability, even if it only was just for a moment 🙂

Would you like to own your very own piece of fine art that celebrates the innocence & joy of childhood? Check out my For Sale page for available works.

I Remember When He Met The Crab

YCL Art Leave a comment

Available for sale. Price: $800 18″x36″ acrylic on canvas

We would often ride our bikes to Lake Pontchartrain to go crabbing and fishing. There were a lot of swampy areas around the lake that made the crabbing part really easy. Just tie a chicken leg to the bottom of a crab basket, let it sit for a few minutes and before you knew it, crabs were flocking to get in on the feast.

So, I’ve been asked many times what the story is behind this painting. Is it about my dog’s love for crabs? or maybe it’s about the crab’s love for my dog? Well, this is how this encounter went down. The day started out like any other day at the lake. We set up shop, dropped the baskets, cast our fishing lines, and just waited. The dog came and sat in the shallow water and watched, then out of nowhere, he started crying, whimpering. and running in circles. We couldn’t figure out what was wrong, we checked his ears, his paws, his nose, his tail, until finally he dropped on his back and showed us his belly… then it all became clear. It seems a baby crab thought my dog would make a tasty treat and decided to pinch my dog’s “sensitive” area. It was not a pleasant experience for either the dog or the crab, but the situation was addressed, no permanent damage was noted, and the dog learned a very valuable lesson about sitting in shallow swamp water.

Contact me to inquire about purchasing this painting.

NOLA

YCL Art 4 Comments

NOLA

So with Mardi Gras right around the corner and the Saints on the way to the Super Bowl for the first time in their history, memories of my hometown have been looming over my head.

As a child I remember celebrating Mardi Gras: the parades, decorative floats, festive dancers, and soulful marching bands. I remember the anticipation as we stood on the side of the road waiting for a parade to start. I can still hear the sound of the distant bass drum from one of the marching bands, it was one of the first signs that the parade was almost there. I remember the Clydesdales as they marched by looking so majestic & noble, the queens & kings on the floats,  and the crowd yelling “HEY MISTER, THROW ME SOMETHING!!!”

I watched the pretty Dance Connection dancers with their purple & white outfits as they danced by, their white boots with tassels would make a scratching noise on the pavement as they passed. I thought I was going to be one of them when I grew up, but little did I know I couldn’t dance.

I can still smell the exhaust from the tractors that would pull the floats, the sounds of the doubloons as they hit the cement, and the pain of getting my hand stepped on as I fearlessly lunged to get one.

Even outside of Mardi Gras season, the city of New Orleans is a world of rich culture filled with vibrant art, unique music, mouth watering food, and happy people. I was so blessed to of spent the first part of my childhood in such a great city. I still go back often to recapture some of my childhood and to get more imagery and memories for future paintings

Oh, and one more thing: WHO DAT?!?! 😀

I Remember the Bus Stop…

YCL Art 2 Comments

The Bus Stop

I was the first American born in my family, everyone else was from Colombia. My mom was brought to this country with the promise of a better future, but was unfortunately let down. Not knowing any English and alone with 2 young girls, my mom found herself in survival mode. Luckily, she proved to be a strong, independent, creative, hard working woman. My mom figured out ways to make ends meet and she brought my sister and I to a place that many families in our same positions don’t ever see. I owe my life to her and the sacrifices made to give us a better life. This image depicts the time spent waiting for the bus, sometimes it was early in the morning on the way to one of my mom’s various jobs or sometimes it was late at night after a day of running around taking care of errands.

A friend recently brought to my attention how hip my mom is in these modern times of “going green.” Ever since I can remember my mom found ways to live off the land, this stems from her upbringing in a small town in Colombia. Growing up we had chickens that provided eggs and sometimes meat, various fruits or vegetable either home grown or picked from the over grown brush around town, and on various occasions we found ourselves fishing and crabbing along Lake Pontchartrain. My mom continues many of these practices today and it’s beautiful to see and to learn. My mom rocks 🙂