Tag Archives: Pop Art Portraits

11 Art Banners at Jazz in the Pines Idyllwild

Miles Davis by Gawecki. Whenever I hear "Kind of Blue," I know everything's going to be OK.

Miles Davis by Gawecki. Whenever I hear “Kind of Blue,” I know everything’s going to be OK.

This year at Jazz in the Pines in Idyllwild, 11 bright hand-painted banners will be decorating the French Quarter and near the main stage. Many of the jazz musicians featured on the door-sized banners are locals, including musical director Marshall Hawkins, the late crooner, Herb Jeffries who had a home here, and vocalist/pianist Yve Evans, who lives in Palm Springs.

Musical director Marshall Hawkins being painted on Gawecki's kitchen floor.

Musical director Marshall Hawkins being painted on Gawecki’s kitchen floor.

Bassist/singer Casey Abrams, who wowed on American Idol three years ago, Caleb Hensinger, a trumpet player and Graham Dechter, jazz guitar, were Idyllwild Arts Academy graduates. Abrams will appear with Hawkins on the main stage at 4:15 p.m. today (Sunday).

Jazz guitarist Graham Dechter in process. He is an Idyllwild Arts graduate.

Jazz guitarist Graham Dechter in process. He is an Idyllwild Arts graduate.

Hensinger was a scholarship student who is studying at Berklee in Boston. Jazz in the Pines is a fundraiser for student scholarships at the Idyllwild Arts Academy and Summer Program.

Jazz banner of Etta James by Gawecki who saw her perform at the Chicago Theater with BB King.

Jazz banner of Etta James by Gawecki who saw her perform at the Chicago Theater with BB King.

Other banners at the festival include jazz greats Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, and Etta James. All the banners were created on tab-topped cotton curtains with acrylic paint from the hardware store. Local artist Marcia Gawecki, who worked as a van driver at Idyllwild Arts for five years, likes using bright Behr mistints like seafoam green and neon pink.

This is Gawecki's fifth image of Marshall Hawkins. No. 6 is near the main stage.

This is Gawecki’s fifth image of Marshall Hawkins. No. 6 is near the main stage.

She paints on her kitchen floor in Idyllwild. It’s the only available space for the large banners. Outside on the deck, pine needles rain down and bugs meet a sudden death with the paint.

The large banner of Casey Abrams was painted during his time on American Idol.

The large banner of Casey Abrams was painted during his time on American Idol.

This is the first time Gawecki has shown all 11 banners together in an outdoor space. She hopes to showcase them all together at a gallery this year. Three of the 11 were purchased by locals, including Anne Finch, co-chair for this year’s jazz committee, and Pam Pierce, Casey Abrams’ mother. Celebrities who own Gawecki’s banners and paintings include comedian Bill Cosby, rock flutist Tim Weisberg and President Barack Obama. Gawecki sent Obama a T-shirt a few years ago, and his framed thank-you note hangs in her home.

After the jazz fest, Gawecki hopes to sell eight of the original banners which range in price from $500 to $800. For more information, call (951) 265-6755.

Getting Over Painting in Public

Marcia Gawecki at Idyllwild Art & Wine Walk. Photo by Peter Zabadi.

Marcia Gawecki at Idyllwild Art & Wine Walk. Photo by Peter Zabadi.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

Ever since I was young, I’ve always hated painting in public. My dad was stationed in the Phillippine Islands, and my sister and I took watercolor lessons from an old Filapino painter. He didn’t saymuch, but with his paintings, he spoke volumes.

During our lessons, it was customary for students to paint along the walkway into the gallery and shop. People would often stop and watch awhile. My sister, Beth, was definitely a better painter, and found a way to block out any distractions, including visitors.

For me, however, I would suddenly become self-conscious, and fumble with my paint, taking on too much paint or water, and creating an instant mess. Visitors would leave in embarassment, knowing that they caused the commotion.

It got to the point that I would rush through a painting in the early part of our lesson so it would be nearly done by the time that the nosy customers would walk by. Or worse yet, stop and watch.

Because of this, I almost stopped painting. But then I realized that most artists paint in private.

Over the years, when I lived in Omaha, Chicago, and now Idyllwild, gallery owners have encouraged me to paint in public. I would immediately refuse, saying I was too shy, or my canvas was too big for it to work.

Then I’d secretly watch the other artists that agreed to paint outside. One painter working outside the former Artisans Gallery in Oakwood Village, had them captivated. People were drinking wine and milling about, and occasionally would ask her questions, about where she lived, what medium she used, and how long she had been painting.

Louis Armstrong outside Acorn Gallery Idyllwild. 38 x 50 1/2 inches.

Louis Armstrong outside Acorn Gallery Idyllwild.
38 x 50 1/2 inches.

She responded with patience and grace. Then she noticed a squirrel digging and running up a nearby tree, and included it in her painting! Needless to say, I was amazed! She ended up selling a couple of paintings. I think it had something to do with the outdoor connection.

But that still didn’t convince me to paint in public. My palms still get sweaty at the thought of it. Then I managed to get my portraits in the Acorn Gallery, next to Cafe Aroma. I started watching the gallery two days a week.

Kirsten Ingbretsen, the owner who is also a mixed-media artist, would encourage me to paint inside or outside the gallery. She was very casual about it.

Billie Holiday is on display at the Acorn Gallery in Idyllwild

Billie Holiday is on display at the Acorn Gallery in Idyllwild

Then the Idyllwild Art and Wine Walk arrived, and two of the Acorn artists had agreed to paint outside on the deck. They set up their easels and table, and made it inviting. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to participate, but I set up my banner of Tim Weisberg next to a chair in the parking lot. My back was to everyone who were busy drinking wine, so it was easy to handle.

I decided to get over it.

It was OK until people started getting rowdy and nearly spilled their wine on my back. However, I met some interesting people, and maybe got a commission out of one encounter.

The next week, when I would set out the easels and sculptures on Acorn’s deck, I could see traces o red paint left over from Kirsten’s art projects. At first, I tried to scrape the paint away, but it was stubborn. Scrubbing it was like scraping up frosting left over from a birthday party.

One day, I decided to paint outside under the umbrella, hoping to attract more visitors to the gallery. I was working on a sign that I needed for an art booth. However, I noticed that the longer I painted outside, the less people came into the gallery. They seemed to go the long way around the steps to Cafe Aroma.

I felt like an art troll guarding the door of the gallery. No one would dare cross me, unless they could comment about my painting. Little did they know, it was the last thing I wanted!

So I moved inside. Believe it or not, Kirsten did not object to painting on her glass desk, next to the counter. It was tucked away in the far corner, so visitors didn’t really see me working there until later.

I’m not sure when I started painting there regularly, but it was a matter of necessity. I had some commissions to finish before Christmas and was running out of time. At first, I would just paint the backs of the banners, something that I’d always leave for last. Then I kept adding colors to the back, and pretty soon it looked like an abstract!

When I started working on the front. At the time, I was working on a portrait of baseball pitcher Sandy Koufax. When people would come in, I’d immediately stop painting. I’d even cover it with a towel or a nearby folder, and go help them.

Then people started asking about the paintings.

“Oh, you do those bright portraits?” they’d ask. “What are you working on?” “Hey, that looks exactly like him!”

Sometimes, I’d go into detail about what kind of paint I used, or why I decided to paint on tab-topped curtains. Then I’d point out the other prints in the gallery, and the conversation would go into another direction.

These encounters were innocent enough, and really didn’t produce any sales. People were just curious about what you were doing. Kind of like if I were to see a woodworker whittling away at a piece of wood. I would stop and watch too.

But inside, I still was the young girl who was afraid of messing up.

Then yesterday, I had an encounter with a young artist. Her name was Gabriela, and she and her parents were looking around the gallery. They were from a rural town in Northern California.

Gabby was asking pointed questions about Kirsten’s work that was on display on an easel. This particular one was intense and theraputic. I explained that Kirsten paints about her experiences, and in this case, about a fight she had with her friend.

“She painted this painting a few years ago right after an argument, and then put it away,” I told Gabby, who was looking at the Buddah and sailboats at the top of the painting. “Then she painted this part later. You can do that, you know, finish a painting years later.”

Gabby’s mother saw my paints on the desk, and mentioned that Gabby got an easel and several canvases for Christmas.

“What kind of paint do you use?” she asked.

“I use Behr acrylic paint from Home Depot,” I explained. “I have them mix the $3 samples in bright colors. They have screw on lids, so I don’t spill the paint while I’m painting on my kitchen floor.”

People are always amazed that artists will just paint in the middle of a room. That’s nothing! I know of a sculptor who built a clay pot in the middle of his living room while his wife was away! However, she threatened to leave him if he did it again!

Then Gabby’s dad showed me one of Gabby’s recent paintings on his cell phone. It was an incredible painting of a sunset. There were reds, yellows and blues, with lots of movement. My heart was full!

“How old is Gabby?” I asked.

“Six years old,” her mother replied.

Then I understood why they were a little apprehensive. At that young age, Gabby had real talent. She could even be great, if she kept it up. I tried not to jump up and down and shout that they had the next van Gogh on their hands! Instead, I took their lead and remained calm.

“You should frame it,” I suggested. “It’s really good!”

Gabby beamed.

Her mother said she had put the sunset up in her room. I could tell that they probably didn’ t have much money, and were overwhelmed with what they were going to do with her. I wanted to suggest private lessons, but in the rural area where they lived, there probably was limited resources.

So I suggested that they get large canvases from thrift stores, and paint over those ugly paintings.

“You can use white or any color to cover it, and sometimes there’s texture from the previous painting that you can use in your own landscapes,” I suggested.

Gabby liked the idea, and I asked her if she painted from nature, or out of her head.

“For the sunset, I painted what I saw. My parents like to look at sunsets,” she said. “But other times, I paint from out of my head.”

Artists who can paint from imagination or memory are a different breed.

Then I handed her a poster that I had done of Casey Abrams that showed all the bright colors, explaining that it was OK to give him a green face and purple hair.

I’m not sure how much of what I said sunk in with Gabby. My guess is that she would be light years ahead of me in no time. But she seemed like a well-adjusted young girl, curious about the world.

After they left for Humber Park searching for the last traces of snow, I looked back at Kirsten’s desk. My paint tubs were lined up like little soldiers, while the brushes were resting in the small water cup. The portrait was half hidden, but it was a definite mess.

Then I realized then that I would never have had that art conversation with Gabby had I not been painting in public. I would have said hi to her, and talked about the holiday or the weather, and that would’ve been it.

I would have missed Gabby’s sunset.

Copyright 2013 Marcia Gawecki Art. All rights reserved.

Mistints and a Messy Kitchen

Jazz guitarist Graham Dechter in process on my kitchen floor in Idyllwild.

Jazz guitarist Graham Dechter in process on my kitchen floor in Idyllwild.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

During the holidays, most people will admit they have messy kitchens. There’s dishes in the sink, pans left on the stove, and tabletops not wiped down. There might even be a rolling pin or food processor left out from baking pies or pesto. As an artist, I have them all beat.

My kitchen is a mine field.

There’s a large canvas tarp spread across the 15 x 15-foot floor. It’s just a formality because paint is splattered everywhere. There’s not one defining color, and it’s not pretty.

Paint cans, brushes, rags and spaghetti jars filled with water and brushes line my path from the computer to the kitchen sink. At least once a week, I trip over the water jar, sending brushes and water all over the floor. My cats scurry out of the way as I sop it up with rags, towels, bras or anything handy, cursing all the while.

In the mountains above Palm Springs where I live, things don’t dry easily. So I have to wait on my door-sized canvases to dry.

It’s actually gotten better from the days when I would knock over entire cans of paint secured with tippy metal lids. I’ve ruined many favorite clothes trying to get out of the way.

I like mistints from Home Depot, you know, the kind of paint that’s been marked down to $8 a gallon because it wasn’t the right shade of pink, blue or green, and the buyer probably had a snit.

I’ve always wanted to ask the paint clerk about the backstory of why the person refused an entire gallon of paint. Such a waste! But I’m just so happy to have these great finds, that I don’t want to get anyone mad again.

I’d buy up all of the mistints I could afford, but then there were days there was only odd grays and creams left. I’d be like a junkie returning to Home Depot every few days looking to score a green or maybe a bright orange.

Then I discovered paint samples. Those are the small plastic cannisters of paint that look like butter tubs. Most people buy them to try out on their living room, bedroom or kitchen walls. If the sample color looks good, then they’ll go ahead buy a couple of gallons of the same shade. It’s a no-stress way of buying paint because Behr (brand) samples cost less than $3.

When the weather is nice, I paint on my back deck, like this one of Ella Fitzgerald.

When the weather is nice, I paint on my back deck, like this one of Ella Fitzgerald.

I prefer Behr paint because it is Made in the USA, in Santa Ana, California. It makes me feel good knowing that my small paint purchases are helping to save American jobs. I also like Behr paint because it’s top quality, and usually comes with primer built in. So you don’t have to spend so much of it covering your canvases.

The only downside to buying Behr paint samples is that Home Depot may be on to me. When I show up at the counter with five color swatches, and ask for five samples, it must register that I’m not painting all the walls in my house a different color. So far, they haven’t grumbled because it’s work. They have to go to the same trouble as mixing a gallon of paint– for a fraction of the cost.

And they know that I’m not coming back tomorrow to buy a couple of gallons.

Some friends of mine think that buying acrylic house paint is cheap, or less quality. Yep, it probably is. But I figured if it’s good enough to put on the outside or inside of your house and last several years, then it’s good enough to put on my paintings.

Besides, I need large quantities of acrylic paint to cover my door-sized banners. And Jackson Pollock used common house paint in his splatter-paint masterpieces.

Mainly, it’s a matter of economics. You may recall that I am the artist without a studio who sacrificed my kitchen floor. Do you think I have enough money to pay for acrylic paint at $30 a jar?

I’m just trying to find a way to continue painting without having to give it up and just be another bill-paying slob.

Banner of Barnaby Finch in process. The bigger the banner, the bigger the mess.

Banner of Barnaby Finch in process. The bigger the banner, the bigger the mess.

The only people who I allow over these days are my friends. I just can’t stand to see the horror on their faces. One time, a friend came over for a walk, but brought another friend. I mentioned in the walk that I had “sacrificed” my kitchen floor to paint. After the walk, she wanted to see it. I was giddy from all that exercise, so I said OK.

I won’t mention her name because she didn’t have a good reaction. She just stared like I had spread chicken guts all over the floor and left.

It made me feel weird and judged for my lack of tidiness. If I could manage to paint somewhere else in my house, believe me, I would. But for now, it’s all I’ve got.

The only ones who probably wouldn’t judge me would be LA graffiti or street artists. I met a few of them when I wrote an article about them showing at a gallery in Palm Springs. They had videos on their web sites that showed them wading through paper and canvases in their living rooms. They would use spray paint paint that would go everywhere!

It was so wonderful! I felt like I found my long lost brothers!

In the midst of the mess, they’d tack inspirational messages to the wall from other well-known artists like Picasso.

“While other people are talking, I’m doing art,” was the Picasso quote.

LA graffiti artists are probably the only ones who wouldn't judge me. Frankenstein's monster by Marcia Gawecki

LA graffiti artists are probably the only ones who wouldn’t judge me. Frankenstein’s monster by Marcia Gawecki

These guys are amazing artists who can paint anywhere, on a building, a wall or on a grand piano. They create beauty and precision with spray cans of paint. The ones I met have clothing designers and international beer brands courting them.

But there was a time when they couldn’t pay their rent. However, they probably never worried about what others thought of their work space where they also happened to live.

So really it’s a matter of perspective. I could tell people that I have a studio space, that also doubles as a kitchen.

Copyright 2013-2024 Marcia Gawecki Art. All rights reserved.

A Long Road to Pop Art Peggy Rose

My mother in Pop Art colors!

My mother in Pop Art colors!

By Marcia Gawecki

For my mother’s birthday party on Oct. 6, I decided to create a Pop Art invitation. I didn’t tell her beforehand.

I was kind of giddy, painting my mother in bright colors. It seemed almost dangerous. Like painting a Catholic nun with pink hair.

Then over the next several weeks, Peggy’s portrait went through a distubingly “ugly” phase. Her hair was pink, then yellow, then mint green. Nothing seemed to look right!

Then I added too many colors to her face and neck, making her look Surrealistic. You know, babies and old ladies should not be painted in a Surrealistic style. I just makes them look freaky. Not the vibe I was going for!

During the weeks that I worked on Peggy’s portrait, I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working out. In deperation, I’d take a picture to get a perspective. They’d always look too bright or too “muddy.”

I was beginning to think that, after 20 years of painting, I was incapable of painting my mother’s portrait!

Peggy's portrait went through a multitude of color combinations

Peggy’s portrait went through a multitude of color combinations

Then I remembered my childhood.

You see, I come from a family of artists, writers and teachers. But my mother doesn’t really understand art. She’s a retired nurse and very practical. She raised seven children, practially alone after her divorce. She’s tough, but really shouldn’t be giving artistic advice.

It can be devestating.

My brother, Mark, who is a product designer, is a true artist. He creates sculptures, paintings, and photographs that would make you cry. He really has an artist’s eye. Yet, for his entire life, Peggy would nearly send him into a rage.

“What’s it supposed to be?” she’d ask, thinking of dishware.

“It’s a reclining woman,” he’d say, staring down at the mermaid-looking aqua-tinted sculpture.

“But where are we going to put it?” she’d ask.

What she should have done was congratulate him on finishing the piece, that took nearly 80 hours to complete. Then she should have encouraged him to create more pieces, thereby raising another artist to grace this world.

Instead, she would always say the wrong thing, setting my brother off in a mad rage.

I would console him, warning him not to ask for approval.

“She’s only going to make you mad,” I would say, sounding more like a counselor than a sister. “You’re not going to get what you need from her, so skip it!”

My mother paid for my painting lessons from age 9 to 11 years old, which was an extravagance for our middle-class military family. Yet, it was a lifeline for me as a shy adolescent.

Yet, after every finished piece, my mother would always make me add green paint “so they’d match the couch.”

“But I already signed it,” I would protest. “You can’t change a painting once it’s been signed!”
We both knew that was baloney. I never wanted to add green to match the couch. It was a matter of integrity. What would my teacher say? “Spineless” would probably be a word that would come to mind. In the end, Peggy paid the art bills, and had a stronger will than me.

My paintings always matched our couch.

Photo of Peggy that inspired the portrait

Photo of Peggy that inspired the portrait

It took me nearly two months to complete the small birthday portrait of my mother, about one month longer than it should have.

I was thinking too much, maybe worrying about her response. It reminded me of the time that I was working on a portrait of a baby. It was a commission from my manager at work.

But then she started being difficult. Nothing that I produced pleased her. Then I would come home and paint, not realizing that her son was starting looking demonic!

I had to shelve the painting until things improved.

That’s when I realized that there’s a strong correlation between an artist and her subject.  I was putting too much pressure on myself to paint the mother who meant so much to me. She was both mother and father growing up, smart but not savvy, often critical and always practical, but not very emotional. Like my brother, I was the exact oppositeI don’t know how a brood of artists came from her!

“Pretend it’s for another client,” my friend suggested. “Don’t think of her as your mother, but just as another commission that you need to finish.”

It sounded like good advice, but impossible to disassociate myself from the woman who gave me life.

The final invite with sticker

The final invite with sticker

In the end, it was the squawking of relatives that made me finish Peggy’s portrait.

“Her party is only weeks away, where’s the invitation?” my aunt asked, clearly annoyed.

When I finally told Peggy that I was creating an original painting for her invitation, she wasn’t impressed.

“Oh, that’s ridiculous to spend so much time on an invitation! I can just pick some invitations at Walgreen’s!”

A Poltergeist voice came out of me.

“Don’t you dare pick up some Hallmark invitations! I’ve been working on this portrait for two months now!”

She relented.

Printing a full-color invitation was costly, about $2 each for 15. Everyone, including my friend, thought it was ridiculous to spend so much money on an invitation. In the end, I got the date wrong, and Peggy had to buy a sticker to cover it.

It was the ultimate embarassment!

“Did anyone say they liked the invitation?” I asked.

“Yes, everyone said that it’s certainly bright!” she exclaimed.

Bright is different than good. It had to be good.

At the party, I’m tempted to ask her friends what they thought of the invitation. Yet, it’s not going to be what I’m looking for.

An artist once told me that you should not look for approval from others. Even if no one likes your portrait, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you do.

Yep, it’s just an 80th birthday invitation, but I’ve put a lifetime into it.

Marcia Gawecki shows her Pop Art Portraits at Acorn Gallery in Idyllwild.

Copyright 2013 Marcia Gawecki Art. All rights reserved.

Painting the “Bronze Buckaroo” in Idyllwild

 

At 100, Herb Jeffries is as dapper as ever!

At 100, Herb Jeffries is as dapper as ever!

By Marcia Gawecki

I have been painting the “Bronze Buckaroo,” red, yellow and blue for years.

Herb Jeffries, who appeared in the first black westerns also sang with Duke Ellington’s orchestra. When I heard he would be celebrating his 100th birthday on Sept. 24 at Cafe Aroma in Idyllwild, my heart raced!

Most of us in Idyllwild hadn’t seen Herb and Savannah for years since they moved to Wichita. To us, it seemed like the ends of the earth. But they had driven back to California, and wanted to celebrate this milestone with some old friends.

Cafe Aroma put out a last-minute announcement for anyone in Idyllwild to come and share birthday cake and champagne with Herb.

Lucky for me, I was working right next door at the Acorn Gallery when the truck pulled up. Lots of well wishers rushed up and Herb flashed that winning smile! He looked dapper in his cowboy hat, boots and tie.

Like a groupie, I took pictures through the gallery window. I was nervous that he wouldn’t remember me, and that I would be in the way. But taking pictures from that vantage point proved to be unsuccessful. And since I had to work at the gallery, I couldn’t join in the festivities.

Sachmo banner at Cafe Aroma with Herb Jeffries banner in background

Sachmo banner at Cafe Aroma with Herb Jeffries banner in background

Yet, Herb and I already had an arts connection. He and Savannah own one of my banners. In 2008, I painted a door-sized banner of Herb that hung outside Cafe Aroma during Jazz in the Pines from August to October.

Along with Herb’s banner, I painted jazz banners of Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, Billie Holiday, and Marshall Hawkins, who heads up the jazz department at Idyllwild Arts. Marshall’s banner was the only one that sold that year.

Years later, Cafe Aroma hosted a fundraiser for Herb, who was in the hospital and battling a bad respiratory infection. Cafe Aroma asked local artists to donate pieces to help raise money for his recovery. Since my banner was already on Cafe Aroma’s deck, I donated it.

Hubert Hawkins, Cafe Aroma’s owner, bought it and donated the money and the banner to Herb and Savannah. It made me happy to know that it was in Herb’s possession, and that I helped him in a small way with my art. Over the years in Idyllwild, Herb had performed pro bono for many charities, including one for ARF (Animal Rescue Friends of Idyllwild).It was our turn to give back to a man who had given so much to Idyllwild.

Herb ended up recovering and my banner of him (which I never got a good picture of) was somewhere in Wichita.

And suddenly, on Tuesday night, he was right next door celebrating his 100th birthday with friends. During the evening, Savannah went out to the truck to check on their one-eyed terrier, and I was outside. She told me how happy they were to have my banner in their home.

“Will the banner be donated to a museum?” I asked.

“Oh, he has so many things in museums now, we’re going to keep this one,” Savannah said.

Those words made my heart sing! Herb Jeffries wanted to keep my banner in his private collection!

I wanted to ask Savannah where the banner was hanging, in the garage or somewhere, but other people came up and started talking to her. And that was the last of it.

Herb Jeffries print by Marcia Gawecki. He and Savannah now own it.

Herb Jeffries print by Marcia Gawecki. He and Savannah now own it.

Feeling nostalgic, I picked up a smaller print of Herb that I had done years ago. He had sunglasses on and I captured his signature smile. I ran it over to Frank Ferro at Cafe Aroma.

“Can you give it to Herb for me?” I asked Frank. “Or, if he doesn’t want it, sell it for $20?”

Frank smiled and put it on the bar for everyone to see.

The next day, I reviewed the Idyllwild Herald, Hubert’s online paper, and saw many pictures of Herb and friends. He had a great time! He was celebrating at Cafe Aroma for nearly two hours.

About five years earlier, Herb was the last one to leave an event hosted by Jeffrey Taylor from Cafe Cinema at the Caine Learning Center. He kept talking about how much fun he had.

In fact in 2008, Herb was still performing before a live audience at the Temecula Valley International Jazz Festival.

Later that night of Herb’s 100th birthday celebration, a few well-wishers came into Acorn Gallery.

“His voice is a little higher now, and harder to hear,” one said.

“I think it’s a result of all the medication they gave him in the hospital,” another added.”But he looked great! He recognized so many people!”

I was happy and sad at the same time. I wished I wasn’t so shy and would have greeted Herb on his big day, even if he didn’t recognize me as the banner artist.

Then on Thursday, Sept. 26, I got a chance to talk to Herb!

Again, I was working at the Acorn Gallery next door to Cafe Aroma, when the truck pulled up. I watched as Savannah got out and was greeted by their friend, Harley (who is a farmer and a gourd artist at the gallery). Savannah went to make table arrangements at Cafe Aroma, and Harley took their dog for a walk.

So, for a moment, Herb Jeffries was alone in the truck.

I looked out the window, not knowing what to do! But let me tell you, if you get an opportunity like that, you should take it!

I strode up to the truck, and spoke to Herb through the window. He said the door was locked and was trying to open the window, when Harley walked up with the dog.

Harley opened the door, and Herb immediately tried to step out, but Savannah wasn’t back yet with the wheelchair.

“He’s really mad,” Harley warned. “He wants to go eat.”

Legend Herb Jeffries with artist Marcia Gawecki and her portrait of him

Legend Herb Jeffries with artist Marcia Gawecki and her portrait of him

“Hiya, baby!” Herb said, flashing a smile. “Where’s Savannah?”

He was trying to get out of his seatbelt like a precotious child, while Harley was holding him back.

“Just wait!” Harley warned.

I asked Harley if I could get a picture of Herb with one of my portraits. By then, Savannah had come up with the wheelchair.

“Smile, Herb!” Savannah and Harley both shouted.

I got a picture with Herb, just before they whisked him away to lunch. His eyes are as blue as can be, and there’s barely a wrinkle on him.

I credit his good looks with a positive outlook on life. Whenever I’d see Herb at events, he was always gratious and thanked God a lot for his good fortune. It just peppered his conversations so naturally.

“Would Herb want another one of my portraits?” I asked Savannah.

She said sure, and I ran to get one from the Acorn Gallery, and grabbed the other one from Cafe Aroma.

I handed both to Herb and asked him to decide which one he liked best. He turned it over to see his name printed on the back.

“He likes the blue one,” Harley said after a few seconds, and Savannah ran it back to the car.

“Stop by later and get a picture of him smiling,” Savannah said.

But I didn’t want to impose again. I was happy knowing that they owned two of my portraits.

Herb Jeffries portrait at Acorn Gallery Idyllwild

Herb Jeffries portrait at Acorn Gallery Idyllwild

On Oct. 28, Herb and Savannah were headed to Apple Valley Inn for another banquet to celebrate being a centenarian. For more info, call the chamber (760) 242-2753. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy!

 

Copyright 2013 Marcia Gawecki Art.