Returning To Work

 

Hello known (and unknown) universe. I’m back for a quick blog. Feeling somewhat better, but still not to be considered a fully functioning human. Tired and winded, it may take a few days to get my mojo back. I thank all who participated in sending me good karma. I did manage in the last forty-eight hours to get something done. Actually, more than one thing since it was my wonderful husband’s birthday. It is also our twenty-fourth wedding anniversary today. I have been couch bound for a week, therefore no birthday gifts, cards, or anniversary card or gift. I don’t know why I have ever bought a single card, I make beautiful cards. Who knows? So I made a lovely birthday card, and then as a combination birthday/anniversary present(s), I wrote two poems, and then did pen and ink drawings to put them on. I’ve posted a photo of the first minus the poem. I think I’ll be doing a lot of watercolor, pencil drawing, and pen and ink in the coming weeks, I need to avoid the fumes of everything else.  I am more than pleased with the finished result, and even better than that, Dan loved them, and that is all that matters. Happy Birthday, and Happy Anniversary Dan, I love you.6 236 24 (1)

Want Ad

Wanted: Good Health Karma. Please send into known universe. Compensation: All who participate will be rewarded with new artwork to gaze at!6 22

An Answer To Last Night’s Question, And A Little Tale

Last night I asked a question of the universe. It pertained to how I was feeling. I got my answer today….pneumonia. Alas, the universe has yet again thrown a roadblock on my journey!  One pill down and my head is up (although the rest of me is still on the couch), so I decided tonight in leu of artwork I’ll just write. There are more people following my blog than I had ever imagined, and I appreciate the support more than you may know. I thought maybe tonight I would just tell a little tale about myself. I have a very good friend who laughs at me, it’s not mean, it’s just that she knows me well enough to know if an accident can happen and I’m in the area, it’s mine. Another dear friend who keeps telling me that I need to save it for “the book”.There are many, many of these stories, but because I am already getting tired (been up since 2 a.m. coughing) I will share only this one.

January in Chicago can be really, really cold. Lake Michigan has a lot to say about how miserable Chicagoan’s will be. Lake effect snow, and wind chill can be brutal. My first car was an AMC Hornet. It was hideous, sort of gold color, with two giant rust holes in the hood that would spin the slushy crap off winter streets onto my windshield, not to mention that sometimes when the car wouldn’t start I would pop the hood, and using a pen I would push something inside the engine, (no idea what) and the car would start. That last part was actually quite impressive, guys actually thought I knew something about cars…not so much. As far as the rust holes in the hood, I had to shove plastic bags in the openings to be able to see through the windshield on winter days. Very stylish. How old was I with this piece of crap car? 16? 17? 18? No, I was twenty-six,(I had to spell that one out) a mother with a full-time job. On that cold January morning I drove my daughter to school. It was on a major Chicago street, Western Ave., lots of traffic, lots of parents dropping off, not in those nice suburban school circular driveways, but curbside on a street with four lanes. (I couldn’t possibly make a fool out of myself on a nice quiet street with no one around, could I?) The Hornet had two big, very heavy doors. I walked around to the passenger side to take my daughter out of the back seat. Once Jessica had cleared the door safely, I slammed it with force, which was the only way to shut them. As the door slammed it grabbed part of my coat, the part with the pocket, the pocket that had my keys in it. I couldn’t take the coat off, it was too cold, and there was no spare key for this car. Here’s a creative assignment, picture a woman, who appears to be leaning on a car outside in the middle of winter. I think the temperature was somewhere between nine and fifteen that day. Fortunately my sister’s kids went to the same school. I sent Jessica in search of her aunt. When my sister arrived she found great amusement in my dilemma, this of course after a lifetime of living with me.  Honestly, I would have killed for a coat hanger, and privacy! Eventually, between the two of us, and a little cooperation from my raggedy old Hornet, we managed to pull the coat and keys free.

Well, that took longer than I thought, and now I’m really tired and winded. Have a little laugh again tonight at my expense, I do it all the time myself.

I Surrender

Several blogs ago I used the title “No Surrender”, I have also written about not thinking about the obstacles that might get in the way of my 365 project. Some of you may have noticed I wasn’t here last night. Well, I’m back, not really, as I type this while laying on my couch. I mentioned the other night that I was coming down with something, and I was right. Barely able to lift my head up for two days, and a high fever. As much as I had never intended to miss a day with this blog, I had no choice. What I’d like to know is how not even a week since I finished ten days of antibiotics for strep, and a flu shot, I have the flu. So the artistic fridge is closed again today, (although I did manage the attached little illustration with my head hanging off the edge of the couch) hopefully I will be up and running tomorrow. Image

Taking It Easy

I struggled through the project tonight. No artistic issues this evening, well, maybe a few, but I’m definitely coming down with something, which is amazing considering I just finished ten days of drugs. That’s why tonight I decided to take it a little easy on myself. Anyway, I chose watercolor for this evening, again because of how I’m feeling. Anyone who works in oils knows that sometimes the fumes aren’t friendly, I may need to avoid them for a few days. For subject matter I looked through some of my photographs. I have more than a few mission photos. It may be from growing up Catholic, but I think more likely that I love old things, worn things, antiques, architecture, and history, for all those reasons, I love missions. I am fortunate enough to live in Southern California, not far from both Mission San Luis Rey, and San Juan Capistrano. I have visited several others specifically to take photographs. I came across one shot of just the top of a bell tower, and to be honest (again because of how I’m feeling) it was the quickest project I saw. It was also the first in a while where I tried to draw the perspective without measuring out every inch. I didn’t do too bad. I sometimes like the effect of watercolor, pencil and pen combined, and I think that is where I want to go with this. I will have to let it dry and revisit it tomorrow. For now I think I need to call it a night.

Image

 

Something Old And A Little Something New

6 16

This will be a very short post tonight, it’s Father’s Day and my attention needs to be elsewhere. I did a very, very quick sketch, and I did a little work on my wood burning project for my friend. I won’t bother to show the project tonight, not enough to show. I actually thought that I might take the day off, but I can’t. I read someplace that if you exercise for six weeks it gets in your system and you want and need to do it. (It never happened for me) I have been writing my blog for about eight weeks. I have to admit it, I’m hooked on the project. I have to keep my promise to myself. I feel incredibly good and positive about the direction this has taken me.  So here is just a little something new, and since it was so quick, a little something old, an oil inspired by the area I live in.DSC03388

What Makes An Artist?

I’ll begin tonight with a definition. I of course have my own theory, but I will give you one I googled, and found on The Free Dictionary.

Artist

1. One, such as a painter, sculptor, or writer, who is able by virtue of imagination and talent or skill to create works of aesthetic value, especially in the fine arts.
2. A person whose work shows exceptional creative ability or skill: You are an artist in the kitchen.
3. One, such as an actor or singer, who works in the performing arts.Nov 17th (4)

If you are curious about the food photo, the explanation lies ahead, and at the end of this paragraph a photo of our bedroom, all in an effort to prove a point. I bring this up because of the conversation that I wrote about the other evening, (OK, I’m obsessing. It’s a problem of mine) but I also had an encounter a few months back that stuck with me. I was having coffee with a friend at Starbucks, we ran into two women, one of whom I had met before. I was introduced to the other woman as an artist. I didn’t bring it up, I usually don’t unless asked what I do. Many people, including family, refer to me as a “housewife”. Let me begin by saying I have no problem with the housewife label, I don’t work outside the home except for occasional odd artistic jobs. But I am first and foremost an artist. My entire home is a work of art. There isn’t a single square inch that hasn’t been creatively transformed by me, including my garden. I work hard every single day, and every day I do something artistic. For me creativity is as natural as breathing. If I’m not working on an art project, I’m photographing something, or I’m cooking a meal that would knock your socks off, and that meal would be very artistically arranged on a plate, a particular plate since I have way too many plates, all white, in an effort to display my food in the most beautiful manner possible, and more than likely taking a photo of that meal. Whew! Long sentence, but all true. (So that’s why the food photo) When I was introduced as an artist to this woman I was meeting for the first time, she turned and said, “An artist? Are you a real artist, I mean do you sell your work?” Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that unless I turn a profit I’m not a real artist. She apparently never heard of all of the great artists whose work was worth zip until they were six feet under. The conversation of the other night was headed in that same direction. No, I don’t have training, and yes, I have nothing hanging in a gallery for sale, but I am an artist, just one without a profit sheet.Master (2)

For tonight I revisited another orphan tucked away in the studio. I chose this one in particular because tomorrow is Father’s Day. My father-in-law passed away five years ago in July. He was a really lovely man who I liked very, very much. Last year I decided to paint a vignette of some of his belongings as a gift for my husband. Like so many other paintings before it, I gave up. I have felt bad about not finishing it, but I wanted Dan to love it, and I didn’t feel like I was good enough to paint this painting. I was at times sorry that I started the project because for me, (and I never told him this) I thought that the fact that it was unfinished only proved to Dan that I wasn’t good enough to do so. He has never shown anything but complete support for me, I was putting my crap on him. So much of the world around me has not given me the respect I deserve for my work. No schooling, no paintings currently for sale, but I have more talent than many of the “professionals” can claim ownership of. I don’t care for a great deal of modern art. I am entitled to that opinion, but I would never dare to say that the people who paint them are not artists because I dislike the work. When I spoke to Dan about this subject earlier this evening he said, “A baseball player is a baseball player, not just because he plays in the major leagues.” To use his analogy, I have “major league” talent, but I skipped spring training, much of the season is past, but I think I’m beginning to realize that I might just play in the all-star game and possibly the world series. I am feeling more confident in my painting daily. Dare I say it? Even a little fearless.
Oil on canvas, and I am proud to say it is almost finished. (Only because the Hawk’s are in the Stanley Cup, and we went out to watch the game. Maybe I should have used a hockey analogy instead)
Image

Using The Gift

I never quite understand people who,because they have a particular talent believe themselves to be better than others. I have a gift, an artistic one, but so do millions of others. I have often said, “Sure I can draw, paint, cook, do pretty much anything creative, but the laundry list of what I can’t do is ten times longer. There are those who can dance and sing, talents that I would love to have. I am sorely lacking in the coordination department, which essentially cuts out pretty much any athletic prowess. I bring this up for a number of reasons. I have had people suddenly become interested in being my friend because they see what I can do, and trust me, I can spot those ones a mile away. I have had more than my fair share of snide comments from other women who see my abilities as competition. I don’t feel that way about things that other people are good at. I admire what others can achieve. I will admit to having a little “hair envy”, basically mine sucks and always has. These days, much to Dan’s amusement I comment on how nice other women’s knees look. (If you saw mine you’d understand..six surgeries have done some damage) Do I wish I were thinner,richer, or more accomplished? Sure I do, I’m human, but I am more of the mind-set that when someone else looks better, or does something better or different from what I do, I applaud them. I had the conversation that I wrote about earlier in the week, the one that took a swipe at my self-esteem. Then yesterday I saw a neighbor, a woman who I at one time considered a friend. I did a lot for her. I foolishly gave and gave of my artistic self, doing things for her and her kids. She turned into one of the women who made the snide remarks. I’ve been accused of “showing off”, all because I made a beautiful dish to bring to a neighborhood gathering, or gave a hand painted piece of furniture as a gift to a neighborhood child. (Believe me, I was invited to the party for every kid on the street) My point, the reason I write all of this, is that I don’t show off. I never think I am better than anyone else, and I shouldn’t let someone else who has a ridiculous issue about me, (envy) to cloud my thinking, to get in the way of my art. I have given myself a stern talking to, and have had encouragement from a number of people in regards to that post.

Back to the “gift”. The best thing about having the ability to do everything I can do is that I can create something special for people I care about. I have a very dear friend in the midst of a horrible problem. She means the world to me, and other than letting her know that I am here for a shoulder to cry on, there isn’t much I can do to help her situation. We are good friends because we are much the same, nice, decent, thoughtful women. We accept each other, we share our lives, we support each other. We love our husbands and our children. We joke that we get along so well because we are both middle children. She is one of the finest people I have ever known. I can’t fix what is happening in her life, but I can use what I have, my artistic gift, to let her know that she is loved and thought about. So tonight I decided to make my project for her. She will be mad at me, she says I give her too much, but she is wrong. She has given me through her friendship more than I can ever repay. She loves pears. To eat, to wear, (her favorite pear sweater), she has pears all around her house, I think she needs one more. I raved about the wood burning and the pearl paint when I did the table. I’ve been anxious to try something else. I have some scrap wood in the garage, so I drew a quick sketch of some pears, and pear flowers, and grabbed the wood burner. I have barely begun to paint it, but it is late, so I will post part of the started project. I know my friend will read this, she is so very supportive of what I am doing, so I don’t want her to see it all yet.

In addition to tonight’s post is a quick pen sketch. I had a lovely day in the vineyards with Dan. As we sat on the terrace of one of the wineries I drew the scene in front of me. I have photos of this same location and think it just might need to become the inspiration for a painting.leoness photo

Back To The Drawing Board

I never did get to putting the pages of my box/book together. Not surprising, I know, but other pressing matters, such as my overgrown garden took precedence. I realize that it is just another obstacle I created for myself. All I can say is I’m working on it. Some of you may be saying, “Where’s Jessica?” I know, I haven’t gotten back to my full figure portrait. It isn’t really that I’m avoiding it, I just haven’t been sleeping well, and when I don’t sleep well I tend to screw things up. I also get frustrated more easily, and I really want the portrait to turn out well.

I worked so hard today that I have a couple of blisters on my right hand.That would be of course that I, who rarely stops to think and just jumps into the creative pool head first, always work without gloves. The garden looks beautiful, my fingers hurt, and I’m very tired.  So what seems to have become the norm happened again. I cooked dinner and then set off in search of a project. I thought about a small painting, my usual, a watercolor, but then when I looked at the shelf where I keep paper, actually it’s shelves, many shelves. I have over the years purchased a great deal of paper, and received quite a few pads of a paper as gifts.  Many, many of them are regular inexpensive drawing paper, and following through on my promise to use up my supplies, I decided to practice my drawing skills. I had intended to do a few quick sketches, but that didn’t happen. I only did one drawing, as I was leaving the studio I noticed a new package of charcoal that was sitting on my table. (I am ashamed to admit that there are a lot of new, unopened art supplies, some that moved there with me ten years ago!) I decided to use the charcoal. It turns out that the charcoal is actually “black chalk lead”. What? Do I know how to use this stuff? No. Did I read anything before I tried to use it? Of course not. It’s me, the artist who flies by the seat of her pants. Let the frustration commence! It doesn’t erase! My drawing was going along very nicely until I got to the hand. Attempt number one was a mess, way out of proportion. I tried to erase and it didn’t work very well. I tried again with no success. I finally got smart and grabbed a regular pencil, sketched it in, and then ran it past my in-house critic, Dan. Satisfied that it would work out I went back and finished with the lead chalk. I’ll play with the lead chalk again, but I think I’ll save it for a little free form sketching. I am glad I got at least one finished piece from my efforts, and it is one I like. Not too bad.6 13  (7)

Back To Normal

Last night I posted a page that was part of a larger project. Several weeks ago I published photos of other pieces. A box that I covered with book pages, the inside cover had a copy of a page from an old drawing book. I also created a page with a photo of myself as a child, again with words and phrases that were of significance to me. That was as far as I had gotten, I put it to the side and considered it a work in process. I had created another page that I hadn’t posted. It is a page with a photo of me as a twenty year old, and again there are words. What this box has become is a journal of sorts. Each page I have made thus far has been on a day when I was struggling with my project. I am using the pages and the box to express some of what is going on in my head on those days. I decided today that I will continue to work on the box over the course of the project to help me express the difficulties and the good days too. I will be attaching the pages to the box tomorrow. For tonight a simple drawing. Pen and ink of a tree. I love trees and the texture of bark. I really enjoyed drawing tonight. I’ve stopped obsessing about the conversation of the other night and I’m back to the reason for all of this, Art! image