All My Blog Posts

4040 Farmouth Drive, Los Feliz & its architect & builder, my grandfather, Harry Hammond Keith, an extraordinary person, who otherwise few people may never know. 

A journal entry written in 1996 while creating a piece of art during the time I was also going through a divorce.  It began with an assignment given through a summer Discipline-Based Art Education (DBAE) course through the Getty Art Institute in Los Angeles. It reflects my feelings towards art (in 1996) and shows how the art-making process can delve deep into one’s psyche to express the true emotions one might otherwise not have the courage or words to communicate.

I'm abysmal at perspective.... have studied, practiced it, even taught it, and I can spot it immediately in my students' paintings, but never my own until later. I am and will always be about feelings, color, light, and mood, so much so, that I'll rush to express those while overlooking the most basic of technical elements. Alas! Remember that Cezanne and VanGogh had TERRIBLE perspective in their works too. I'm calling my style fauvism masquerading as realistic impressionism.

It has taken what seems like a lifetime to find my voice as an artist. Does that mean I can finally call myself an artist without feeling like an absolute fraud? I don't know. Maybe, maybe not, but it actually doesn't matter to me any more either. I just AM. Call me what you want, or at worst, say that I have the true heart of an artist if nothing else!

“Aikens’ Silverlake Manor-Previously Vande Kamps” Watercolor & ink. © 2023 Linnie Aikens Lindsay This post is a bit of Silver Lake history for you nostalgia buffs. First of all, it was written Silverlake for most of our lives, so I am sticking with that, since it took its name from the adjacent Silver Lake Reservoir, which sounded kind of redundant to many of the early homeowners, then and now, especially since it wasn't technically a lake! The n

Most of us kids born in the 50's and 60's constantly heard these words from our parents. Digital toys were simply not even a figment of one's imagination back then. We played outside. We used our imaginations and figured out how to entertain ourselves.

In the late 1960’s, they called it the “Kool-Aid Fountain” for the alternating pastel colored waters of the Mulholland Fountain near the entrance to Griffith Park.

“Head out, girls,” were Dad’s predictable words each time we began a hike.  I think I had hiked every inch of the 53 miles of trails in Griffith Park, all before I was 14.

This story comes from my college days. One of my on campus jobs was working "Mud Crew," which was our colloquialism for the landscaping crew, as opposed to "Crud Crew," the name we'd given the custodial team at the college.

Many families have at least one story that gets told at every gathering for decades — the “big fish story” where the finally ensnared fish nemesis seems to grow to epic proportions upon every retelling. This is our family's version.

When I was a wee lass, I found some white stones in a circle under the ferns in my Scottish grandmother's backyard...

For good or bad, while I never wanted to be on the stage, I always wanted to be noticed.  My one and only day in “lights” came at age 6, when I received televised recognition. This is the tale of of an Easter Egg Rolling Contest as a child and lessons learned.

As a child, I was fascinated with wonder that anyone would paint a house in cerulean blue!  Purple and yellow pansies waved their faces between the two houses and danced like happy members of a solstice parade, under baskets of fuchsias that contributed to an exotic, almost carnival feel.  An indian family lived there...

The earliest childhood art reflects our passions in life.

When I was very young, my dad used to call my art "wallpaper". After college I wallpapered a couple of rooms in the home of the singer, Kenny Loggins'...

Art serves as a mirror, reflecting not only the artist's intentions but also the viewer's emotions and experiences.