I had intended to do a much larger piece of art today, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there may be a flu in my future. Several friends have been sick in the last few weeks, and although I did get a flu shot, I am feeling slightly under the weather. My head is feeling quite a bit heavier than normal, and it aches as well. Let’s just hope its a travel hangover from the weekend. I did work quite a bit today, but that was on (I hate to say it) fairies. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but they do spread quite a mess throughout my house. We are still suffering a glitter containment issue from Christmas. I have quite a few new ideas that I am working on, so glitter it is. For my blog tonight I did a little experiment. A few years ago I saw a photograph in a restaurant in shades of browns and blacks. I have done a couple of black and shades of gray watercolors before, I wanted to try something similar with the browns and blacks. Inspired by the photo I saw I painted a portrait of a woman’s profile. I like the effect, I do wish I had used a different weight of paper. This is a much more textured paper and I had a difficult time blending. In the end I am pleased with the portrait. There is a moodiness to it that I like. (Maybe because of how I’m feeling!) I think I’d like to attempt one in oil. Before I get to that I do have a number of half done orphans in my studio. Time to do a little catch up, that is if health permits tomorrow. For now, short blog, early to bed, hoping my head feels better in the morning. 
Monthly Archives: January 2014
Home
No ruby slippers to instantly transport me home, so another five-hour return drive in the car. No watercolor paintings this time. I was busy taking photographs. I began to play with my phone taking pictures as we drove through the Arizona desert. We’ve made this same journey several times before, and I have taken hundreds of photos along the way both coming and going, but I wanted to play with the filters on my iPhone. I have always loved black and white photography, and there is a filter on my phone named “transfer”, the colors were really different, very vintage looking. I went crazy for both. I shot more than five hundred photos. I couldn’t wait to get home to unload my phone to see all of them. I had been checking through them as we drove and was loving the results. Then I unloaded my phone. Not one photo appeared in my computer with the filter on it. I have been having issues with the phone, but not with the camera. I was devastated, of course me being me, I deleted all of the photos before really looking at them to see that they had unloaded without the filters. I checked with my local tech gurus (that would be Dan and Brian, husband and son respectively) but no one seemed to have an answer. I finally googled it. To my dismay it seems that there is no way to save them with the filter unless you email them to yourself. Ridiculous if you take as many photos as I do, and I had already deleted them. I called the help line (Jessica) who is always quick to help her not so tech savvy mother in a pinch. I followed her instructions and emailed myself one of my photos back out of my desk top, applied the filter and then emailed it back to myself. Success! Now I only have hundreds more to do. (Just kidding) I’ll have to take a good look before I decide which photos are filter worthy. To say I am annoyed with the entire process is a major understatement. However, I did manage to take quite a few photos today that I love, so I will be busy emailing myself for the next week. Because I have nothing better to do.
You have probably guessed by now that I am home, happily ensconced in my nest, and I am. As wonderful as new experiences can be, as lovely as visiting family can be, as intriguing as exotic destinations are, there truly is nothing like the feeling of walking in your own front door, putting up your feet, and letting out a sigh of satisfaction. Our girls, Riley, Mia, and Sophie were glad to have us back to do their bidding. Mia in particular knows exactly what she wants. She walks towards me with determination, hops onto my lap, and demands to be petted as she purrs away. I was tired today, ten hours of travel between Friday’s trip to Phoenix and the return trip today, and my usual restless hotel sleeping, I decided that tonight I would do something just for fun. A watercolor of my Mia. It’s also been quite a while since I threw in a little photography. Some desert shots, one in its original color as nature intended, a black and white, and a before and after with the filter applied (thank you Jessica!) Back to my life tomorrow, with bigger and better art to come.
As nature intended…
Black and white Photo Shop
Out Of Sorts
Two small watercolors today on a day where I am feeling very out of my element. I don’t do well away from home. I am definitely a girl that needs to be in her own nest. Not enough sleep last night, hotel beds are not my friend. A long restless night, after a night when I stayed up much too late. I am out of sorts as well. We head home tomorrow and I am already counting the minutes. I have often said I’d go anywhere in the world as long as I can sleep in my own bed at night. I find comfort in familiar surroundings. It’s silly how attached we can become to “things”, but I am attached. I wake every day surrounded by things I love. We have a lot of things, too many things in fact, but I love pretty much all of it. Not that there aren’t days when I walk through my house and do a mental list of what can go when I downsize. There are things I will hang onto with my last breath, that being said about a year ago as I walked through the house I thought about what I didn’t need, I actually picked up more than forty things that I could easily get rid of without a thought. Some of them are gone, I sold a few of them, but most are still around getting moved from place to place. I miss my cats as well. They are well taken care of by a good friend, but still the mother hen I am worries how they are doing without me. I’m sure while reading this you can realize that even after a day I am homesick. I think being homesick has a little to do with control issues. Really, I think that when I am home I know my surroundings, I am free to do as I choose, but when you are a guest there are limitations in choices, that just doesn’t work for me. I like to be in charge of my day, That may sound ungrateful, I’m not, I am just a creature of habit who is lost without her “things”. I really didn’t spend enough time working on these paintings today, but I didn’t have the alone time or silence that I need to feel creative, as a result one of the paintings is only half done. The other is inspired by some old Lustreware dishes I own with wispy painted landscapes on them. By this time tomorrow I will be home and all will be well in my world.
Art On The Move
I’ve got it figured out, the way to make time for art. I simply need to be confined to a moving vehicle with a set of watercolors and a bottle cap (for water, in case you were wondering). We are on the road today, on the way to Phoenix for my mother in law’s birthday. It’s only 1:35 in the afternoon and I’ve completed an art project. (I wont be able to post this until later today because the art is for her.) As always I travel with too many supplies. There is barely enough room for me in the front seat of the car. Books, magazines, paper, pens for pen and ink, pencils, and two sets of watercolors, and I’ll be back on Sunday. I’m not even sure what clothes I grabbed to wear, and I have two pairs of shoes, the ones on my feet, and a pair of tennis shoes for walking. That’s the stuff I don’t care about, well maybe I care a little, I brought four shirts for two days, but what I do care about is being prepared for whatever inspiration strikes. Of course oils and acrylics are back at home, but I can always lay down an idea in watercolor and revisit with another medium later. I did get up this morning and clean the house, but here I am sitting in the passenger seat with nothing to distract me, nothing else to prioritize, no excuses. I know many a passenger would just enjoy the view or fall asleep, (Brian’s been out cold since we left) but I am one of those “ants in your pants” people. I hate, hate, hate sitting still. I always need an activity. For my last five knee surgeries I prepared an activity cart ahead of time, that way I could order my man-servant (Dan) to wheel it over. I had to have something to do when sitting on the couch. Morphine drip in one leg, paint brush in the other hand. To say I have ants in my pants doesn’t nearly cover it. After one of my surgeries I sat looking at our family room fireplace, within a week I had dragged myself over and tiled the front of it. Captive in the passenger seat I thought about what was at hand. Watercolor paper, paints, and a photo of Lulu my mother in laws dog. yesterday I told Dan not to buy a card that I’d make one. I never had the time, but as we take this five-hour drive time is all I have. A portrait of Lulu as a card. This isn’t my first expedition into art in a moving vehicle. I painted almost the entire eleven hour trip on Air France as we returned home from a very belated honeymoon, and I’ve seen more than one trucker do a double take after glancing down into our car.
Lulu in watercolor. Joyce’s adorable Yorkie, Happy Birthday Joyce!
An Opportunity
I could take last night’s post and rerun it again. Another day when I found myself unable to get to the art I wanted to do. This one brought on by myself. I volunteered to make a cake. Did I invite Betty Crocker or Duncan Hines into my kitchen? Of course not. Dark chocolate with homemade raspberry filling, and chocolate ganache, then wrapped in a coat of dark chocolate frosting. Yum, right? I’m sure it is, but after tasting and tasting and tasting all day I’m done. All made from scratch, everything has to be tasted, I know you’re thinking, “tough job”, but when you taste it over and over, yuck! I actually felt sick. It looks amazing, and I’m sure once my stomach has a chance to recover I’ll be in love with chocolate all over again, right now we are on a trial separation. We would like to remain friends.
Larger art projects will have to wait, I didn’t finish my cake until near dinner, and I have a busy weekend ahead. Of course before I made the cake? Oh, I cleaned the family room, my bedroom, two bathrooms. Did I leave time for art? No I didn’t. By the time seven in the evening rolled around I was upset with the world, but in all honesty its my fault. I am making the choices, no one is holding a gun to my head, yet I keep putting myself off. A few years ago I talked to my daughter about how I saw the women in our family. My Mom never did things for herself. There are times when I think of her now and am filled with sadness for the girl she once was. We have one photo of her where she appears to be twelve or so. She looks so happy. I sometimes wonder who she could have been given the right encouragement and opportunity. I see some of that in myself as well. My Mom gave everything of herself to my Dad, myself and my three sisters. I have followed very closely in her footsteps, and sometimes I feel my daughter on my heels. I told Jessica that I don’t want her to follow in this long line of people pleasing. I want my daughter to step out of my shadow and do things for herself before she learns to regret the time she has lost. I also realize that I need to step out of my own shadow. I have regrets about lost time and opportunity, but my life is still ahead of me, I have an opportunity here to show her it is possible to love your family, but to love yourself as well.
I decided to do one of my favorite types of paintings, every day objects. Right in front of me was a collection of brushes in water. I grabbed the largest one. “Tool of the Trade”, in watercolor.
Daily Detours
Despite my best efforts my daily life continues to get in the way of my art. I start each day with the best of intention, but there always seems to be things that get in the way. I had intended to continue work on my cabinet door project but never found the time to sit down and paint. I’m not complaining, I spent my day being quite productive from a two-hour hike this morning, a little house cleaning, and a wonderful afternoon baking and cooking with my nine-year old friend Gabby. We made banana muffins, and frozen fruit pops from a children’s cookbook I bought her for Christmas, made soup for my family and for my lovely Theresa who is very under the weather. There was also forty-five minutes on the phone with my eighty-one year old Dad, who was trying to explain to me how he wants me to make a house for two little figurines that I gave him years ago that resemble my children. I’m still not sure what he wants, but he is going to send them to me and I’ll come up with something. So here it is past seven in the evening and I am searching for a project. I did start a watercolor painting, at least the rough sketch, but it is a gift for someone so I can’t use it until Friday because it’s a surprise. I do have another small upcycling project in my bag of tricks, so that may be it for tonight…
Three hours later…I’m back with a finished??? project. I question the finished part because I’m not sure if I am happy or finished. It’s late, I dragged my feet on this one. Honestly, I didn’t feel like working tonight, but I made myself do it. I was afraid that I took one night off it would turn into two, or three. This project has given me so much, but I still struggle with the day-to-day of making time for art. I’m worried about giving up on myself. When this year is up I most likely won’t be writing every day, but I hope to be working every day.
Tonight a hat stand. An old wooden spindle, two pieces of craft wood, and some paint. I upholstered the top and trimmed it out. Not sure I like the trim, but it’s late, and I’m too tired to make decisions.
Don’t Go Breaking My Heart
I was definitely over optimistic about this door project. It is taking me much longer than anticipated, and will most like turn into a four-day project. I’m really enjoying the process, but it is definitely time-consuming. I applied two coats of gesso to the fabric, but the texture is definitely rougher than using a canvas that has been factory prepared. I’m using some Folk Art floating medium which is certainly helping. I started with only Titanium White and Yellow Ochre on my palette, initially thinking that I wanted to work in only two colors, but I wasn’t achieving the depth I was looking for. I added some Folk Art Metallic Taupe to the mix and it was perfect. I didn’t really have a particular design in mind when I started, sort of the “flying by the seat of my pants” work I enjoy. Here’s my problem now, it’s a problem I often encounter, I’m falling in love with this piece. I have a very intimate relationship with much of the work I produce. I’ve denied my artistic soul for so long that I often fall head over heels for the piece of the moment. The thought of selling my work is something I have yet to come to terms with. I’ve been selling things for years of course, but mostly the kind of craft stuff that I just don’t care that much about. I sold my first painting at fifteen, and not much since then, but I can’t keep everything. I would also like to earn a living at this, I can’t do that if I can’t let go. Many years ago in response to my Dad giving my work away, I began to give my work to my boyfriend. Then we broke up. It meant I broke up with my paintings as well. I heard through the grapevine that his apartment was robbed, and to add insult to injury the thief or thieves put a knife through one of his paintings, my painting. I was heartsick. I really do put so much of myself in my work, even the craft stuff that I claim to not care about. The thought of selling my work and never seeing it again kills me. (Do you think I could arrange for visitation?) I know I will have photographs to look at, but it just isn’t the same. I’ve agonized over it here in this blog before, I still haven’t bitten the bullet, but I will. I took the first step by opening a Facebook page to begin showing the work. I’m hoping to start listing prints on etsy soon. As for original pieces (I think I just felt my heart drop) those are next. Someone will break my heart and take my babies away. This is assuming anyone wants to buy them. Maybe I’ll just be happily ensconced in my piles of work by the time I hit my seventy-fifth birthday. I’ll leave all my work to my kids. (They had better like it, it’s all they’ll be getting)
The door, day two…
Beginning The Countdown
As I contemplated what to do tonight the old 99 Bottles of Beer began to sing in my brain. You know, 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer…except my version has something to do with 90 more projects to do. I’d write out the whole thing but:
A. You really don’t want to read it
B. It makes no sense at all.
Anyway, I’m feeling a little pressured these days. The three hundred sixty-five day project is three-quarters of the way through. As much as I have accomplished, and it is a lot, my studio is nowhere near cleaned out, which was in the beginning the idea behind cleaning out my “artistic refrigerator”. I still have multitudes of supplies, and worse yet I bought more! I also feel like I didn’t get to enough drawing, or oil painting in the last nine months. Both are things I’d like to spend a little more time on, but there is also the random supply crap. You know, the bits a pieces that one might pick up along the way and say, “Don’t throw that out, I can make something with that.” I have lots of that stuff. The unfortunate thing is that with my random stuff it tends to be on the larger side, like Theresa’s kitchen cabinet doors. Remember those from a few months ago? I took a stack, did a few projects, had a lot of great ideas, and never followed through. I have decided I need a list of what I hope to accomplish in these last three months. I’m going to work on the list tomorrow…what’s the line from the other song? “I love you tomorrow, you’re always a day away…(I think the blood may have pooled in my brain from the two hours I spent in the dentist’s chair today)
Tonight I decided to grab one of those cabinet doors and do something with it. One of my favorite pieces of the last few months was the reproduction of a business card I did for my husband. It was from the restaurant in Paris where we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. The piece now hangs in our kitchen. I took a larger cabinet door, some drop cloth fabric, glue, and gesso, to turn the door surface into something I can paint on. I prefer turning the door over where the trim is a flat panel. I glued the drop cloth down, not cut perfectly, but I plan on trimming it out anyway, and right now I am waiting for the first coat of gesso to dry. At this moment I’m not even sure what I will be painting on it, but I have drying time to brainstorm…Brainstorm is over. Valentine’s Day ahead, I’ve got an idea. A heart, not a cheesy red Valentine, but a tone on tone, thinking sepia, in the center, a lovely quote, again tone on tone, and random crap to be added to frame. Unfortunately the gesso isn’t dry, and it still needs another coat. Looks like a two-day project. While we wait for that to dry (Because aren’t we all waiting for me to be finished?), I have another project. Years ago I picked up a vintage souvenir box from Mount Vernon at an antique store. The box was trashed on the inside. I redid the inside with some beautiful moss-green velvet. Tonight I replaced the top with one of my photos from Paris (note to Dan…Dear Dan, I must return to Paris, running out of photos to use, must return to replenish my supply…) The top had some flaking on the inside of the glass frame that I chose to keep, I like the patina of it. I think it came out really nice. Definitely one for etsy. Tomorrow I will return to my cabinet door. I hope to add an additional coat of gesso before bed tonight.
Before photos…
After photos…
The Cluttered Attic
I’ve been working for nearly a year now on this project, and while I feel so much more empowered as an artist, there is an area where I am still seeking to find myself. In my fearless artistic youth I wouldn’t look at a photo, or anywhere outside of my own mind to find inspiration. I would paint what was in my head. I guess when you are fourteen or fifteen there isn’t yet a lot of clutter in your head. When you are over fifty with two kids, a mortgage, injuries (too many to list!), an elderly father you worry yourself sick over (because you live thousands of miles away and can only help so much by phone), and you’ve spent most of your life ignoring yourself in pursuit of the happiness of everyone else that you love, inspiration gets lost along the way. The attic of a lifetime that resides inside my head is filled with way too many boxes. I search daily through the thousands of photos I’ve taken in a lifetime of “some day”, or the hundreds of photos torn from the pages of far too many magazines admiring the work of others and hoping it lights something inside me, all in pursuit of that moment when I know what it is I want to put on the paper, the canvas, the piece of wood. If you are an adult lucky enough to still hold onto childish dreams I admire you, I think I was born responsible. I’ve spent my life being just a little (a little?) uptight and self-conscious, always afraid to draw attention to myself, yet here I am putting myself out into the world. I guess my days of hiding are coming to an end. Maybe it’s time to turn into one of those people who forget to act their age. Maybe I need to risk attention. Maybe I need to act just a little silly, or better yet embarrass my children. (Fair warning Jessica and Brian) I need to shed a little baggage, clean out the clutter in my brain, and open myself to looking at what’s left in there when I’m finished. Could be there might be some little gem hiding in a dark corner.
I was really, really tired today. One of the lovely advantages of having a cluttered brain is lack of sleep. An hour and a half last night, what a treat! I wasn’t sure I would be up to anything, but I grabbed the box of “inspiration photos”, and the watercolors, and just let things develop. I ended up with two pieces. One is from a beautiful sunset over the nearby mountains, the other, a wild flower I took some time ago on the plateau. 
One From The Archives
Tonight I am posting an old one, so old in fact that I don’t remember when I drew it. I had as always fully intended to create something new for tonight, but we are having friends come for dinner, and we have hardwood floors and cats, and worse yet the Ghost of Christmas Crafting is still in the house. Glitter in every crevice of my hardwood floors. One of my dinner guests is a former Marine, I’m not sure he would appreciate leaving my home sparkling. I cleaned for about four hours, shopped, cooked and baked. Needless to say I’m tired, but I’m also out of time, they will be here in a half hour. I was organizing some of my work today and came across this drawing, as I said its been around for a while, but I mentioned a few weeks ago about my plan to do menus for special occasions, and here one is. These are guests that I promised dinner to a year ago. Yikes! What a year, but a promise is a promise, and I really do enjoy their company. So for tonight I combined my old sketch with my new plan, and I have to say I am quite happy with it. I’m off to final preparations, and for once to try to be ahead of the game and relax and enjoy my evening. In case you were wondering, I came through yesterday’s hike with flying colors, nary a pain in sight. We will be going again in the morning, hopefully with the same results.
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