It’s Almost Time

Scrambling to write at the last-minute. I spent the entire day again working on my grandfather clock project. I couldn’t be happier with how it is turning out. I’m not quite ready to reveal it yet. I have some final touches that I will take care of tomorrow. I want to thank everyone who reached out to offer support after reading my post of a few days ago. I am very nervous heading into business, actually incredibly overwhelmed, but I think it bears repeating that with Dan at my side we can do anything. I have so many thoughts about how we should do things that I’m finding it hard to rein myself in. I guess what it comes down to is that I am terrified but also very excited at seeing our dream come to fruition. This piece I have been working on is just an example of how much I care about what I do. I want every detail to be perfect. I just have to move past this fear of failure. I don’t really blame myself. We aren’t as young as we use to be, and it will take very penny we have. It’s a difficult decision to put everything on the line.

For tonight I am posting an older watercolor. Talk about fear, this is a painting I did from a photo I took while sailing with friends in San Diego. I hate the water, I can’t swim, I have taken lessons twice and failed both times. That isn’t surprising considering my lack of coordination, and that I don’t like water in my face. Dan says I remind him of a cat. I did go willing on this sailing trip, as long as I have a life vest, I’m good. I love taking photos on the water.

Tomorrow my finished clock. It’s almost time…get it? I know, it’s late.Watercolor

Off Kilter

Did you ever start a project that seems so simple and straightforward, but then it turns into a never-ending nightmare where things keep going wrong? It happens quite a bit when you fly by the seat of your pants, and when your brain is a little muddied with stress. Feeling no control in you life when you are a very controlling person can really throw you off your game. I’m also one of those people who never measure. I eyeball everything I do. It drives Dan crazy. He measures and then measures again, and then he will recheck his rechecked measurement. I just do it and if it doesn’t work out I do it again. This of course leads to multitudes of nail holes, lots of wood putty or spackle, and lots of sanding. Twice as much work just so I don’t have to use a ruler. (I swear it’s because of math. It ruins my life) I spent the day working on my grandfather clock/bookcase.  It’s coming along, but as always it’s not quite right, but I like things a little off kilter, just like me.

Not ready to reveal the clock project yet, my entire day seemed to be a series of mishaps, but I did do a watercolor for this evening. I will say this, when I paint the stress melts away. Just another of the many reasons I should do it more often.11 9

Hanging On

Standing on the edge, afraid to jump. That’s me. We went to look at commercial rental properties today and the enormity of our dream slapped me in the face. I’ve been dreaming of opening my own business for more than twenty years, and now that it could become a reality I feel the ghost of “not good enough” filling my brain with doubt. All these months of planning, and suddenly I feel clueless. I started the morning excited and ended it feeling nauseous. I think it’s time once again to have a good talking to myself. It certainly isn’t the work I’m in fear of. I strangely enjoy physical labor. It isn’t that I don’t have the intelligence or qualifications, and it isn’t that I have any doubts about working side by side with my husband every single day. I’ve spent so much of my life making sure everyone around me is happy. I have spent very little time or effort trying to do it for myself, and here it is, my dream, my happiness, my future, and I just don’t know how to do it. I started this post with “standing on the edge”, I think I feel more like I’m holding onto the edge and afraid to pull myself up. There is the chance of failure on the other side and I think that’s what I fear most. This project was the first baby step towards building a life for myself now that my kids are older, but when I think about opening our business it begins to feel like I went from first steps to marathon running. I’ve spent the day worrying, which I know won’t solve anything, but at least I know I’m good at it.11 8

Not much in the way of art tonight. My brain is in a state of panic. Just me hanging on and hoping to pull myself up.

Nonsensical Doodling

I’m a smart woman, an obviously talented woman, there isn’t too much that I can’t figure out…well OK, perspective, dancing, reading instruction manuals, my singing voice (if you can call it that), and football. I can however still manage to draw, to follow Dan on the dance floor to a certain extent, granted I may bruise a few of his toes, read the instruction manual twenty times until it sinks in, manage to sing along to Carole King or Carly Simon when no one is listening, and identify knee injuries when football players get knocked down (six knee surgeries, what can I say, I know a torn ACL when I see it). There is one thing I just can’t get a handle on. I’m ashamed to say its fourth grade math. My friend Gabby is nine, she is a very smart little girl. This morning she was stumped on two problems from last night’s homework and asked for help. “Sure”, I said, confident that I could help. Then I looked at it. Oh no, fractions! I have helped Gabby with homework before, it is always math. It usually goes something like this.

Gabby:  “Jackie can you help me with these problems?”

Me: “Of course I can.” Then I look at the problems, tell Gabby how to do them, and then…

Gabby: “I don’t think that’s right. I think this is how you do it.”

Me: ” You know what? You’re right.”

I don’t even know why she’s asks me.

This morning was no different. I saw fractions, visions of Sister Aloysius popped in my head, and I panicked. I grabbed my phone and called in my mathematical “go to guy”, Dan. I explained my dilemma. After he finished laughing he told me how to do the math. It’s pathetic, and embarrassing when you are my age and can’t help a nine-year old with their homework. It makes no sense to me at all. I don’t understand how an intelligent adult can’t do fourth grade math. I am sure however that there are plenty of math geniuses out there who can only draw stick figures. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

I had a very busy day planning for business. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do tonight. I’m tired. My body is still protesting the falling back of the clock. It is actually refusing to listen to the clock. As a result I have been up before five every morning this week. I think my body clock and my brain need to have a conversation about how tired my eyes are. I also think that the fractions caused some temporary brain damage. I sat after dinner and played with my pens. A nonsensical doodle is the result. I started drawing with no idea of where I was going to end up. In the end I began to think that it looks a little like a Dr. Seuss. The drawing looks like it is running from the page. Maybe if the Cat In The Hat needed a book-plate…

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Not Music To My Ears

I’ve been known to air a pet peeve or two here on this blog. I do it for a number of reasons, the first of which is that I sometimes get tired of myself. I began the blog a little on the “woe is me” side of things. I realized that I could only continue to feel sorry for myself for so long. I was boring myself. I wanted to give the people who were kind enough to follow along something interesting to read, and finally because as I pointed out a long time ago, this is my blog I make the rules. This gives me the right to yell to the world about what in life I find annoying. As always I add a disclaimer. This is my opinion, and for me that makes it right. I firmly believe everyone deserves the right to feel what they feel, and I have the right to feel that they are wrong (just kidding…sort of). Today I think I may stand the chance of being agreed with by all. Why? Because today I am going to rant about music. I love music. Not all music. I really hated Country for a long time, but more and more cross over artists have swayed my opinion just a little. I still really dislike some of it, but the torch has been passed. Reggae now reigns supreme in my most hated music category. Can’t stand it, nails on a chalkboard for me. In general my biggest issues tend to be not with the music (except for Reggae, I hate everything about it), but rather the lyrics. I’m a word person. I really listen to the words. When my daughter was a teenager I lectured her severely on the purchase of an Eminem CD. I read the lyrics and was horrified. She received a long lecture on the history of the Women’s Movement, the sacrifices made, rights earned, and how she as a woman should be outraged. I’m sure in her mind she was rolling her eyes, but I felt that strongly about it. What started my little rant today was a phone call that Dan made. He called about an electronics product that we had repaired. The repair isn’t the issue, it was the horrible music he was forced to listen to as he waited. I’m not one that enjoys the loop of the “We will be right with you” robo voice, but I think I would have rather have listened to that. Several weeks ago I was in the Ladies Room of a national restaurant chain, forced to listen to the lyrics, “She got red so now I got the blues”. Kill me now. And in the bathroom no less, no escape. Earlier in the year I actually complained to a very high-end clothing store, again a national chain, because the lyrics I was forced to listen to while on hold were so offensive I wrote them down in order to repeat them to the operator. Does anyone listen to the tracks they are putting on these phones? I’m sure some people would assume I’m a cranky old lady, I’m not. I think I’m the only Lady Gaga fan in the house. It’s just that I want to choose what to listen to, not have it forced on me by some anonymous computer. I also again respect your right to listen to what you want while you drive, but could you turn it down at the stop light? Please? Aren’t those the songs that become the “ear-worms” that you can’t get out of your head? So now I have that rant off my mind, but there is still that song stuck in my head…She got red, so I got blue. Can you hear the sounds of me smacking the side of my head?

My pastels were still out on the table from last night, and I had some beautiful sunflowers from Emily, so Ta Da!  (or is it Ta Dah? who knows?) A project for tonight. A pastel and pencil sketch of my flowers. Perspective is questionable as always, but then it wouldn’t be mine if the perspective was perfect, would it?

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Setting Sun

Steps in the right direction today. We did make the move to set up our home office for our business, and I made an effort (again with Dan’s support) to get to a project earlier in the day. I had planned on working on my grandfather clock, but  need to get a few supplies for that, so I instead had planned on a watercolor. Then I went out as the sun was setting behind the Santa Rosa Mountains. The mountain’s silhouette edged in rose and gold, the sky still clinging to its vibrancy as the sun set over the Pacific. I love watching the sun set here. Unfortunately for me the mountains stand in the way of witnessing it more often, but I’ve seen it enough to imagine how magnificent it is. The rose and gold gave way to an almost turquoise, fading into a deep ultramarine blue. The moon was a near perfect circle edged in white, but forming a crescent to one side. As soon as I saw the sky I knew that my project had changed. I will never have an ego big enough to think I can do justice to Heaven’s palette, but I felt inspired, and knew I needed to try to capture what I saw. I thought about oils, but I decided to give pastels another try. These are soft pastels, chalk like (note to self: Do not use soft pastels while sitting on white couch!) I think I might like to try this same drawing with an oil pastel as well. There have been days during this project when I have struggled with what to do that day. Not feeling inspired, or just being plain lazy. I love feeling inspired and knowing exactly what I want to do.11 5

As Scheduled

I finally set some time aside to make my art a priority, sort of. The truth is that Dan made me do it. We went out for breakfast for our daughter’s birthday. (Happy Birthday to my beautiful, talented, and oh so smart daughter!!) We did a little grocery shopping, and then I came home and began to clean. Dan stopped me. He told me there was nothing I was doing that he couldn’t do, that I should do my work. (Now you know why I love him so much!) I did at least have a plan. I began implementing some of it today, and beginning tomorrow we will be working on a schedule for me, for my stuff, and together for our business. We have an existing home office which happens to be across the hall for my studio. We will officially be setting up shop tomorrow. I think there are times when life isn’t going as expected when you sort of lose your way. You can get swallowed up by the events that you have no control over. I think we’ve been drowning in it. I think like many people we have been waiting for things to return to the way they should be. I know how smart my husband is, and I know how hard he works. It seems so obvious to me. I never thought he would be out of work for this long. I think we have been holding back on moving ahead with a lot of things because in some way it would be as if we were raising the proverbial white flag, giving up, admitting that things will never be the same. The truth is I don’t want things to remain the same. I want to move ahead to the future I know awaits us. Time is a wasting, and we need to focus.

I am really excited by ideas that I have to do with my grandfather clock project. I worked on several pieces tonight. They are currently in my oven. I won’t give away too much yet, but I think when it is finished it will be pretty cool. So for tonight an older piece. An altered art piece I made for Jessica’s birthday a few years ago. Altered art is difficult for me because there are no rules. I’m a rule girl. I don’t break the law, I don’t color outside the lines, at least I never used to, trying to get past that. I may have to add a little something to tomorrow’s list of what I need to accomplish.

Altered Art Projects (51)

 

Falling Back

Why is it so easy to develop bad habits as opposed to good? What is it about us as humans that makes us do things that we are smart enough to know not to do? And when we do face reality and decide to change ourselves, why is it so difficult? I read somewhere that when someone exercises regularly for six weeks it becomes part of their life and they crave it. Do you want to know what I think? I think someone made that up. I exercise because I have to, I never do it because I want to. More than six months into this project and I’m still fighting my bad habits. I will admit there are nights when I just don’t want to do this. I move along great for a couple of days, feel like I’m really making progress and then like last night’s clock I’m falling back again. My dear friend Theresa is teaching little Emily that every day is a new day, a new chance to start fresh. Good advice, advice I should take and act on immediately, and because tomorrow is Monday, and you know the traditional, “I’ll start Monday” promise we have all made at least once in our lives. I think I need to write a schedule for myself, a schedule for art. Maybe if I actually officially make it part of my day things will fall into to place, if not there’s always next Monday.

I didn’t have a lot of time to work on an art project today. Jessica’s birthday is tomorrow and as is the tradition with birthdays around here, I made whatever she wanted to eat. Originally I suggested an Iron Chef kind of meal and she picked butternut squash, but I realized we wouldn’t have enough time to eat as many dishes as I came up with. I made butternut squash soup with curry, and a butternut squash lasagna, and a chicken dish. She had also requested a peanut butter pie. Overachiever that I am I thought the pie wasn’t “birthday” enough and baked a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting. In the end, and after I woke from my food coma, I did a small watercolor for Jessica. Bleeding Hearts, her favorite flower. Tomorrow I will have to talk about the story of the soup. It’s entertaining, I promise.

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Almost There

A very short post tonight from a very tired woman. As I mentioned last night, I’m a worrier. For last night that meant not being able to sleep until after two thirty this morning, and when sleep finally did come it was short-lived. My neighbor decided to turn on his garden lights at five thirty. I was done sleeping after that, needless to say I am exhausted. I will post and head to bed.

I get a great deal of satisfaction when something that I have a vision for in my head becomes a reality. A few posts ago I wrote about a little antique cabinet that Dan gave me as a Christmas present. As I said then, from the moment I saw this cabinet I thought grandfather clock. Dan built a bookcase for me last week. I tried to match the stain for the bookcase to the stain on the old cabinet, but it just didn’t work. I gave some thought to painting the entire piece, but I really didn’t want to paint the cabinet. It is a beautiful piece, and I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. I left the project unfinished until today. I looked in our garage to see what we had on hand. I came across a can of a lighter brown paint. I had an idea that I wasn’t sure of but decided to give it a try. The problem with the unfinished wooden bookcase that Dan built was that the wood was different from that of the cabinet. By adding a light coat of paint to the cabinet, it allowed the wood to be sealed but still show the wood grain. I let the paint dry and then went over the entire piece with a dark wood stain. Amazing results. The wood of the bookcase is incredibly close to the wood finish of the cabinet. I still have some work to do on the piece. I need to add a back panel, and something really special, the words of the nursery rhyme, Hickory Dickory, Dock. Of course that means I needed a mouse to run down my clock. I used Sculpy to make a mouse, painting him when he was finished baking. I also want to add some trim, a bottom panel, and finally some feet. Hopefully I can get to that in the next few days.The finished piece will be for the children’s section of our store. I want the shop to be as inviting as possible. A few photos, before and after, and of course my mouse. That’s all for tonight. I need sleep! Goodnight.10 22

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It’s Just Overkill

There’s a song by the Australian band Men At Work named “Overkill”. There is also a really terrific acoustic version by Colin Hays the lead singer who wrote the song. Dan says that the song reminds him of me, particularly this stanza:

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perhaps it’s just imagination

It is true that I worry entirely too much. I think some of it is motherhood, but most of it comes naturally to me. I remember laying in bed at night as a kid and fretting over the next day. I was so shy, and also a very easy target for some nasty kids, so school was something I dreaded. It’s funny how music entwines itself into your psyche. Sunday nights CBS aired Mission Impossible (the television show not the Tom Cruise stuff), I hate the theme music. It was the last thing I heard before going to sleep to start another school week. I’ve had trouble sleeping my entire life. I will often toss and turn trying to sleep but my brain just wont shut off, or I wake in the middle of the night worried over something I forgot to do.  For years I kept a pad of paper and pen next to the bed so that when I thought of something I needed to remember I could write it down. I couldn’t turn the light on because I shared a room with my sister, so of course I spent ten minutes the following morning trying to decipher what I wrote in the dark. The upside is that I have an amazing memory, the down side for my family is that I NEVER forget anything. I worry over the big things and the very little details. My daughter is newly married and very happy so I shouldn’t worry right? She works late, drives home alone, and walks to her apartment, all of which equals…you guessed it…worry! My son is twenty-three and still figuring out his way in the world…big worry. He is an extremely intelligent young man, funny, personable, and I don’t mind saying quite handsome, but still I worry. I want him to be happy. When you are a mom you want to do so much for your kids, happy is the one thing they really have to do for themselves. So could someone please tell me how to close off the maternal part of my brain? That’s not all, of course not. I worry about my husband, my dad, my sisters and their families, my friends, my cats, my, my, my, everything! For myself? That is an easy one. My art. I worry that I won’t get it right. That the damned perspective is off once again. That the painting looks flat. That the portrait doesn’t look like the subject. I could continue but I’m sure you get the idea. Tonight I was worried about my son. That affected my painting. I couldn’t concentrate. Now I’m worried about the painting, the perspective, that the rose doesn’t look enough like a rose…blah, blah, blah. I really wish I had a way to tell my brain that Brian will be fine, that the painting isn’t that bad, that tomorrow is another day, but I don’t. So tonight,

“I can’t get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perhaps it’s just imagination

You can look up the rest, or download the single. It’s a really great song, and its way better than the theme to Mission Impossible.

Tonight a watercolor. My amazing husband bought me flowers when we were in Paris. I even managed to sneak a few dried petals back with me, and of course the bag.

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