Bettye Williams Prints

Reflecting With A Memory Painter

Excerpt from Bettye's Autobiography
Once Bettye started painting . . .

"On fire now, I dragged out the card table and built my first studio in a corner of the dining room. I did not set out to seek fame and fortune as an artist I merely set out! Painting on plywood, my next two paintings were of barns and both hang in my Florida room. Now I was getting serious about this painting thing, so I invested in a couple of good brushes, several tubes of paint, and a honest-to-goodness canvas. This time when I sat in front of my drawing board, which still looked a whole lot like the old card table that it was, I said a prayer that went something like this. Lord, you know I don't know the least thing about art and I don't have the faintest idea of what to do next but you know the desires of my heart. I want to learn to paint, so if you will help me, you will get the credit for anything I do well what I mess up, I'll take the blame for. I have tried to adhere to that, taking as little credit for each painting as possible, by signing each one with an abbreviated signature B.Wms. instead of my full name. After all these years, I still dedicate each finished painting to God and ask Him to see that it gets to the person for whom it is intended. I think He does just that." - Bettye Williams


Family Photographs & Life’s Memories

"I was a majorette with my High School band and once when the band was marching at a football half-time show, I glanced at the sidelines and could see people laughing and pointing at me. I thought perhaps my gold satin 'bloomers' had fallen off or something. The boy beating the bass drum who marched directly behind me said, 'Bebe, look behind you!' so of course I did, and there to my chagrin, was good old Johnny, our newest bird dog, with orange and blue crepe paper tied to his collar, (some kids had decorated him with paper from the goal posts) trailing along behind him. You wouldn't believe how pleased he was with himself. I kept hissing at him to 'Go back!' and every time I did, he would look up at me and bark. I was mortified! He stuck to me like white on rice the whole half time show. I could have pinched every one of his brown freckles off.

"Two or three weeks later, I was called to the principal's office. It scared me to death, as I couldn't imagine what I had done. As it turned out, Johnny had come to school and proceeded directly to the principal's office. We didn't have air conditioning back then, so all the doors remained open during the day. Since he had made himself 'famous' at the football game, he was recognized as the 'Jarvis bird dog' so I was summoned to call my Mama to come get him and take his ornery self back home. He was so happy to see me, I just couldn't be too angry with him. Did you know that brown-freckled bird dogs actually smile?" - Bettye Williams


Mama’s Cows

"Martha, my mama inherited her love for cows from my grandmother whose name was Addie. All the grandchildren called her, 'Mammy'. Mammy thought cows had beautiful eyes and while I did not inherit a particular fondness for any member of the bovine population, I have to admit they do have soulfully limpid brown eyes.

"Years before I started painting, I took a picture of two of her cows whose names were Trudy and Judy. One of them had a calf named Bully. In the picture, they appeared to be underfed while in fact, all three of them should have been in 'bovine heaven'. Several weeks before the picture was taken, the cows had eaten wilted leaves from a wild cherry tree limb than had been struck by lightning and had fallen over into my folk's pasture. Wilted wild cherry leaves are extremely poisonous to cows and may be to other animals, I'm not sure. One of them had managed to get back to the cow pen and Daddy immediately called the vet. By the time the vet arrived the other cow was found in the back of the pasture, lying at the point of death, under the shade of an enormous pecan tree. The less sicker of the two was given a shot and was expected to live, the other one was past the point of no return and the vet said she should be left for nature to administer to. That sounded a whole lot like 'leave her to the buzzards' to my Mama.

"Not one to leave her old friend to the birds of prey, she had some of the men hoist the cow to an upright position and bring her home in a tobacco sled. Mama then laid hands on Trudy, who was very pregnant at the time with Bully and prayed to God to heal not only the mother cow but also the calf she was carrying. Almost instantly, Trudy lowed --that's groaning to my way of thinking--and began to purge the poison from her system from all orifices available to her. Mama promptly claimed the healing a done deal, gave God all the glory, and went back to the house. By that afternoon Trudy was up and walking around--still very pregnant. When the calf was born several weeks later and in perfect health, his name could only be 'Bully' as he was too stubborn to die because his Mom had indulged in wild cherry leaves.

"Mama remembers vividly that years ago in a cracker house located near the Georgia State line, she and a dear old black mid wife named Aunt Emma were laboring to get me delivered, they could hear a cow somewhere out in the dark lowing and laboring to bring her calf into the world. Both she and Aunt Emma sympathized with the cow. I'm sure she was remembering this when she prayed for her sick and pregnant friend, Trudy.

"I used the picture for my visual reference for the painting, the feed trough was empty, and it looked like the calf, Bully, was asking his mother why it was empty, so I titled the painting, 'Where's The Fodder, Mudder'. My oldest son, Kelly, thought I should have titled it Where's the Fodder, UDDER Mudder' I explained you could stretch artist's license just so far..." -Bettye Williams


Posy Memory
Mama Pictured with Bouquets of Palmetto Posies

"When Martha Jarvis was just a young girl, a friend taught her to make 'palmetto posies'. At the time they called them 'toad frog houses'. It was a fun thing to do and something to do with her hands as Martha was not one to waste time just sitting. She had heard many a time in her young life that 'idle hands was the devil's workshop' and she certainly didn't want any part of him--for sure! Shortly thereafter, with so many other things for a young girl to learn, the toad frog house making was replaced with work. The memory resurface when she was 81 years of age while fishing off her dock for speckled perch. Still one to waste no time just sitting (and watching for her red bobber to sink), she cut the heart out of a palmetto nearby (don't worry folks, they grow back) and commenced to dredge up the childhood memory of the intricately woven 'posies', a name later given it by one of her daughters, who did not think anything so beautiful should be remotely connected with a 'toad'. Not only did Martha remember how to weave them, but taught her two daughters how to weave them.

"Before long, with creative juices 'awash', the three of them came up with many variations of the posies, such as Chinese Lanterns, Gladiolas, Mosquito Hawk Wings, and Cascades--just to name a few. Wonderful arrangements can be made with these, either alone or combined with other dried items such as Spanish Moss, grapevines, cattails, just about anything. They become even lovelier as they dry, turning a soft shade of blond and will last almost forever if loved. It is thought they like to be 'talked' to in the same fashion as live plants and they love music.

"Martha's posies have been prominently displayed in such distinguished establishments as Main Street Gallery, Clayton Gallery in Georgia and Dolene's Art and Antiques in Bartow, Florida, The Florida Museum of Art and Culture, Sebring, Florida Arts in the Park, Lakeland, Florida, and other places.

"Martha was doubly blessed the day her 'posy memory' was jogged, not only did she have a mess of fish for supper, she had a whole stem full of palmetto posies. Martha would love to share her palmetto posies with you and if you are ever around Lake Wales, Florida she might share her 'fishing secrets'." - Bettye Williams


She was our own Granny Mae

"Dissie and I were the only two grandchildren on Daddy's side of the family and Aunt Mae never had any children of her own so my sister and I were blessed with essentially two grandmothers. In fact, my oldest son couldn't tell my Granny and Aunt Mae apart. He called them both Granny. I called Aunt Mae Granny Mae and my grandmother simply, Granny' so as not to confuse him.

She really had a hard life, being raised on the farm, helping her two younger brothers. She married a farmer so hard work continued to be her lot in life.

I remember visiting her once in Morven, Georgia, where the two of them were share cropping. At that time, she was trying to raise three little pigs (Three little pigs. That has a familiar ring . . .) whose mama had died. I?m sure she needed that around-the-clock job added to the ones she already had about as much as she needed another hole in her head. She was feeding them with a bottle and to a six year old, it looked like Big fun . . . so I proceeded to beg my mama to let me take one home for a pet. She tried to explain to me that we had no place to raise a pig in town--- pigs had to live on a farm. I, with all the wisdom of a child, explained that I would raise it in the bathtub. Granny Mae just laughed and laughed and never forgot my begging and crying for that little pig. I did not think it was a bit funny and I pouted severely all the way home.

Granny Mae laughed a lot. So do I. We had a special rapport. Just a few years ago, we were all raking the yards at our lake house where we gathered to spend the weekend. Our plan was to grill steaks after we got the yard raked and everything cleaned up. Mama, Dissie, and I had already started raking but Granny Mae was dragging up the rear. I told her she'd better get on the stick and she said she didn't think she wanted to rake. So I said, OKAY LADY, NO RAKE NO STEAK! She grabbed that rake and began to scatter leaves and dirt like you wouldn't believe. We all got so tickled. What a wonderful memory!

She lived to be in her seventies and spent her last year in my home. I loved her and took care of her. We loved and laughed, right up to the end of her time here on earth. Hours before she went to be with the Lord, she was pointing to someone (an angel maybe?) on the other side of the room that nobody but she could see. She had the most beautiful and happy expression on her face.

She was our Granny Mae . . . how happy the Lord must have been to see her come through the Pearly Gates. We will all laugh together again in heaven, no doubt."
(My middle name is Mae but don't tell anybody!) - Bettye Williams

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