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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One Down…
At least a dozen more to go. That would be New Years resolutions. I’m breaking one as I write…at ten o’clock. I said I wouldn’t post late, but here I am posting at the end of my day. In all fairness to me I did have a dental appointment today, did take care of a couple of children who needed some “Mommy” time, cook breakfast and dinner, organize all of our medical receipts, clean my family room and kitchen…and then some. It’s amazing I get to the artwork at all. My other resolution was to have confidence in my work. I blew that tonight. I was working on the final mirror in my series of mirrors. It was coming along nicely and I started second guessing myself. I screwed up a perfectly good drawing. I didn’t leave well enough alone, and when pen and ink is the medium of the day, mistakes are definitely permanent. I covered up the error to a certain extent, but I look at the illustration and for me there are neon arrows pointing out my mistake. I just need to recognize that the work is good enough, and just walk away (Didn’t I just point out that I had learned to walk away? Apparently I was mistaken.) So here it is, mistakes and all, the last of my antique silver mirrors. Long day, late night…off to bed!
The finished series. I guess tonight’s doesn’t look too bad after all.
Reflections On Writing
If you’re a writer I don’t believe there can be anything worse than a lost thought. I’m sure writer’s block has its issues, but for me there is nothing worse than that fleeting thought that disappears from my mind in nearly the instant that I have it. I had such a thought this morning, and I remember thinking I need to remember this for my blog later. (Notice I remember thinking I should remember, but I don’t remember what the thought was) At least with writer’s block you aren’t pulling your hair out at the sentence that got away. I’ve been writing about as long as I’ve been drawing. Stacks and stacks of poetry, and endless beginnings to short stories. I have several journals with words contained within, but what I have much, much more of are the scraps of paper where I managed to record some of those fleeting thoughts. Grocery store receipts, deposit slips from my check book, and a pile of the loose subscription cards that fall from the pages of magazines. I have always planned to go back to them. Some to decipher the sentences that I scribbled in the dark when inspiration struck in the middle of a restless night, others because I was in an inconvenient place or time and just grabbed a quick second to record my thoughts before they vanished. There are times when these quick notes have turned into something special. Times when I reread words and they in turn gave birth to poetry. I have said it before, I love the written word. Much like art, when two people look at a painting they don’t both have the same reaction, each individual is made up of their own thoughts and experiences that play a part in how the work speaks to them. Reading the written word also speaks to our own experiences, we take those words and unknowingly apply it to our own lives. The words live on deep in our minds and can color our view by what we have taken from it. There have been times when I have read words that have caused me to go back in my own life and see a situation in a new light. There may come a time before this project ends that I will illustrate my words. There has never really been a time when I thought of having the two connect, although I guess in some ways this very project has done that.
I had planned on finishing my table today, but as always there were other things to attend to. In the end I decided to return to one of my favorite activities, pen and ink. This piece may look familiar. Quite some time ago I drew an antique hand mirror in pen and ink, I have done the same tonight. It’s just a different mirror. I actually own four vintage mirrors and decided to draw another. As I sketch this beautiful mirror I again marvel at the craftsmanship of old. It is in itself a beautiful piece of art.
Mirror illustration from October 29th.
The Day After
It was a difficult day today. It is my Mother’s birthday. She would have been seventy-seven today. I felt a little out of sorts for most of the day, like I should be doing something, I just didn’t know what. She is buried in Chicago so there is no grave to visit. My family couldn’t even have visited there today, there is more than a foot of snow on the cemetery. It’s strange how your life just goes on. I feel a little lost. Bad day all around.
Most people at this point are probably nursing a hangover from the holiday, I am nursing bad decisions and my bad knees. Somehow my kind of hangover doesn’t seem as much fun. Someone should have stopped me from walking more than six miles yesterday. (Dan?????) It always seems like a good idea at the time, and I am bound and determined to not let these injuries get in my way, but sometimes I need a reality check. Walking through the neighborhood for thirty or forty minutes at a time is a far cry from hiking. This is California so there is barely a flat surface to be had. The slight incline of my neighborhood hills are quite different from the rocky terrain I attacked yesterday. It threw my whole day off today. I could barely walk. So much for promises of getting in top-notch shape. One resolution down. (Not really, I will attempt the plateau again, but not six miles, and in better shoes!) It left me not feeling well today, and a little less than creative. I am also still struggling with the idea of getting my writing done early. First of the month bills to pay, Christmas returns, and helping my Dad figure out his new cable long distance took a good portion of my day, then there was dinner to cook, and now at last a moment to focus.
I mentioned a while ago that I do enjoy drawing and or painting regular objects. I thought about what I wanted to do tonight and remembered a photo I snapped one Saturday after a trip to the Farmer’s Market. A bowl of fresh eggs. I was originally planning a watercolor, but when I went into my studio I saw my colored pencils and realized I haven’t used them in some time. Tonight a bowl of eggs in pencil. I’m a little rusty. I haven’t taken the time to keep my drawing skills up to par. I have been toying with the idea of filling a sketchbook with some practice drawing, forms and such. I may just have to do that while I’m staying off my feet. Time to attack a mountain of a different kind.
A Fresh Start
First day of the year, a fresh start in so many ways. I’ve made as lot of promises to myself, ones I will do my hardest to keep. I am keeping one promise right away, I am posting early. I want to stop leaving Dan to fall asleep on the couch as I rush to write before bed.
We started the year the right way, we hiked for six and a half miles. It took us close to three hours. We live very near the Santa Rosa Plateau. It is a beautiful place with hills, and wildlife. In the Spring there are vernal pools, water that rises up out of the ground for a very short time span, and fields of wildflowers. We plan on making the hikes a regular thing this year. It’s great exercise, but more than that it is a place that brings serenity. There were moments today when the only sounds we heard were the wind blowing through the trees, the cry of the hawks circling overhead, woodpeckers at work, and the songs of the birds. There is a peace that comes when you take yourself away from the world. As we walked all I could think about was the beauty around me and what I wanted to paint. Did I paint when I got home? No, the truth is sometimes I forget how old I am, or that I’ve had six knee surgeries. By the time we neared the end of the path on our way back to the car, I was telling Dan that I longed to see civilization, a glimpse of the parking lot, or maybe roadside assistance to pick me up on the path. I was so tired, hot, and in need of a foot bath. Struggling uphill with my bad knees, hoping we were near the end. We stopped at grocery store on the way back and had to laugh as we struggled to get out of the car. When we got home I simply passed out. Happy New Year to me. So, no painting today, instead a pen and ink of another of my favorite things. It’s an old letter opener. A simple tool with amazing detail work. Things simply are not made like they used to be, and I am definitely not as young as I used to be!
I wish everyone could start the year in peace, so I’ll share some photos of our day. 
Addicted
I always say I don’t have an addictive personality. I’ve thankfully never smoked, have a take it or leave it attitude about drinking, and…well OK, there is chocolate, but I don’t consider that an addiction, I consider it a necessity. Oh, and there’s coffee, and my secret unhealthy relationship with Double Bubble. What did I say about not having an addictive personality? Never mind, because I am addicted. To what? To the paper, glue and candle crafting I did last night. Today I decided to go for it again. I saw a photo on Pinterest again, this time it is the sign that hangs in front of The Writer’s Museum in Scotland. I loved it, showed it to Dan and he loved it, so that became my project for tonight. This time recycler that I am, I decided to try using a box that a book was delivered in. I had visions of never throwing away another box and making great art in the process, you know a one woman show, “The Box Lady”… Not so fast. The box was corrugated. It did not cooperate, it did not want to be cut out with an exacto knife. Thankfully the piece wasn’t as intricate as last night, but still by the time I had finished cutting it out my wrist was throbbing. (Thank you 18 years at the grocery store for giving me carpal tunnel) It did take the glue and burning technique OK, but not quite as nice as last night’s board. Color is another issue. It took the metallic hue, but I am not satisfied with the result. I decided to rest my hand and go back to it tomorrow with some light bronzes and gold acrylics that I have. So here you have it. I’m good on about three-quarters of it, but I also am not crazy about the size. I want to go bigger and bolder with it. I have to admit I’m pretty excited by this stuff, and I don’t get enthusiastic about anything…except maybe chocolate.
The original box top drawing
The excruciating cutout
The not quite where I want it so it’s not quite finished piece.
The Three Little Kittens
No rants tonight, no complaints, just some words about my “Three Little Kittens”. There are many days when I really have no idea what I’m going to do for an art project. Then there are those days when something just pops out at me. Today it was Riley, our cat, rather a photo of Riley that I took a week or two ago. Riley is a tabby cat, and I have to say with no prejudice what so ever, the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. We have two others, and lost Spouncer our older cat a few years ago, but none are a cute as Riley. Contrary to what people say about cats, ours are not standoffish. Mia, who is our three-year old makes an appearance nightly, announcing herself in a loud mew that she is ready to be petted by me. It doesn’t matter if I am busy, she jumps in my lap and remains there while I pet her until she has decided she has had enough and leaves. If I dare stop petting before she gives leave I get a few mews, sometimes a little bite, (to remind me that I’m not doing my job) or she begins the process of petting herself by head butting me. Sophie, our most recent addition only likes to be held by the men in the family. She favors being held up in the air. It’s a very funny and strange thing. Riley is our oldest, she will be fourteen in March, and loves nothing more than to be with us. She follows me from room to room, but if Dan is seated she is in his lap. She sits there every morning as he reads the paper which is where I took the photo that I sketched from this evening. The drawing is pencil with the exception of her eyes which I tinted green with pastel chalk. I love cats, I love quiet and they fit right in with that, except when Mia decides to chase Riley across our bed in the middle of the night, then it’s not so quiet and they aren’t so cute.
One of Riley’s cutest…
The lovely Mia…
our little Sophie.
And our beautiful Spouncer.
Restart
The last vestiges of glitter remain in the crevices of my wood floors, but aside from that I’m ready for Christmas, at least on the first floor. As if I didn’t have enough to do I tore my studio apart, the second floor of our house looks like the aftermath of a tornado. I know I’m just a little crazy, but this has been such a bad year that I am determined to head into 2014 ahead of the game, and set up for success. I started this blog/project carrying some very heavy psychological baggage, I am two-thirds of the way through, its time to move forward. I’ve subjected anyone who reads this blog to my working out my artistic issues, and quite a few personal ones as well. Not something I set out to do. Actually I don’t know what I started out to do other than to use up art supplies. I honestly didn’t think about it prior to heading into it. I guess I thought I would create art and talk about it. I never dreamed that my life would change so much, or that I would find myself pouring my heart out to the vast unknown. I think at this point maybe some of you know me more than you want to. There have been nights when I have gotten on a rant on something completely non art related only to stop myself and backspace it into oblivion. I have a steel rod of self-righteousness that runs straight up my spine. It can be used for both good and evil, but when I get upset about things it is bad, really bad. I obsess. I try not to let my obsession spill out onto these pages. I need to redirect my efforts. I’ve mentioned selling my work in the past, but haven’t bitten the bullet as of yet. I began the steps to rectify that tonight. I opened up a second Facebook account for business, a place to tie this blog, my etsy account, and my pinterest all together . The next step for me will be some serious self counseling for separation anxiety. I don’t like to be separated from my work. It needs to be done. I was hoping that over the course of this project that I would produce enough art that I wouldn’t take it so hard when one left the nest. Unfortunately that hasn’t happened. I still have trouble letting go of my babies, but I want and need to contribute to the care of my family. Sometimes I find myself feeling sad, wishing I could go back and tell my younger self to go for it. To recognize what a gift I have and to do something with it. These days I do a lot of talking myself out of feeling old and regretting I didn’t get a handle on things sooner. There’s no going back, and quite frankly this is a year I would never want to revisit, with one exception, my daughter’s wedding. Seeing your child be so happy makes the separation just a little better.
I’ve been crafting for weeks and not putting forth my best work. Time to restart the project. I decided that I need a little back to basics. I had hoped to have more time to paint today, but cleaning all that fairy dust takes time. In the end I decided to just do some drawing. My scissors, as if I hadn’t seen enough of them in the last few weeks. Maybe its symbolic, time to cut out my nonsense…get it? I know, I should have quit while I was ahead. 
A Mystery Solved
Just days away from the show and working nonstop. I can’t wait until Sunday for a moment to breathe, but then only for a minute. My house will need a glitter detox before Christmas. I may have previously mentioned the cat hair tumbleweeds that I deal with in my house, but now they are sparkling and spreading the glitter as they travel. I took a load of laundry out the the dryer the other day and it had glitter on it. It’s out of control.
I will probably give myself a day off, or at least half a day off on Sunday, but then there is the Christmas tree we need to get, decorating to do, and of course shopping…I hate shopping. Yes, I am the legendary woman of lore, the one you have only heard tales of, the woman who hates to shop. The mystery woman with less than ten pairs of shoes, who only wears two of those pairs, one for winter, one for summer. Who only uses one purse until it completely wears out. You thought it was a myth didn’t you? I confess, I detest shopping. Hate malls. Hate crowds. I usually do most of my Christmas shopping via the computer, but unfortunately I have been too busy to do even that. Now it is too late unless I want to pay a fortune for shipping. I will have to plan carefully to get through it as quickly as possible. Otherwise there is the danger of my losing my temper and no one wants to see that.
The one thing that I am looking forward to after the fairy marathon is over is John’s apartment. I did another little piece of art for his walls tonight. A watercolor of my Chef’s knife. Just a week away from that project, and I can’t wait.
Can You Spell W-I-M-P?
I finally took some time tonight to really sit and think about art for a minute, not craft (sorry fairies, you are art in your own special way, but….) I just haven’ t have the time. I’m still working towards Saturday’s show, and of course etsy sales, but I am craving the smell of oils, and even the frustration of the quick dry time of acrylic. I do however still have my watercolors. To be honest I am couch bound, old medical crap rearing its ugly head, so I am forced away from my workshop (formerly known as my dining room). It gave me the luxury of really thinking about what I wanted to paint tonight. Before I talk about the work and it’s inspiration I need to poke a little fun at myself. Regular readers know by now that I grew up in Chicago, the “Windy City”, and although that name actually came about not from the wind, but rather some boastful politicians and a World’s Fair, it really is windy there. When I was in college I found myself battling the wind as it caught the edge of my very large portfolio and spun me around. As I write this we are watching Monday Night Football, Chicago Bears vs the Dallas Cowboys. (The Bears annihilated the Cowboys in case you were wondering) I just checked the temperature, it’s eight,that’s eight degrees, and that doesn’t include the wind chill. Earlier today I was talking to my sister in Chicago and she said it was cold there. I said, “I know, it’s cold here too.” A light bulb went on, that’s when I said to her, “You’re probably about forty degrees cooler there aren’t you?” It was 50 here, yes 50, it was 10 there. It’s really, truly official, I am a “Wus” (is that a real word?), anyway…I was so cold earlier today that I was actually shivering, and it’s 50. I remember when I moved to California and made fun of all the “locals” who wore sweaters when it was 60. We had to run out for a doctor appointment earlier, when I felt the cold and the wind I announced to Dan that I can never live in Chicago again. I love Chicago, and I would of course have to amend the “never living there again” statement were I ever to be able to afford that downtown loft I’ve always longed for. Even then I would live in my loft for spring and summer only. I am so acclimated to the warmth of Southern California that I can no longer handle the cold. Yes, Wimp, that’s me.
It was very windy here today. (Really, not just because I’m a wimp) When I thought about what I wanted to do tonight I remembered a photo that Dan had on his iPad. It was a man, a lone figure struggling in the wind. it became my project for tonight. It seemed appropriate considering how cold I am. I’m wrapped in my giant terry cloth robe, and sitting with the heating pad, and drinking hot chocolate… Hey, it’s 43!
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