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.
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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.
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. 
Outside The “Vortex”
While most of the country is suffering from “Polar Vortex” we lucky people in Southern California are enjoying beautiful weather. Dan and I hit the trails for a hike. Back to the Santa Rosa Plateau to walk in the Sylvan Meadows Trailhead. Not quite as challenging as our New Year’s walk, this trail is much more level, no climbing, and full of little surprising pathways. We walked for an hour and a half. Peaceful, quiet, with the exception of the birds in the trees. most everything on the reserve is the dried remains of summer and fall, but every now and then we would see a patch of bright green, or a small stray flower. As anyone who reads my blog knows, the last several months have not been easy. Today as we neared the end of our walk I said to Dan, “No matter what else happens in our life, no one can take this from us.” There are those moments in all of our lives that stay with us, however small, however fleeting, that are ours alone to treasure. Today we had more than a fleeting moment, we had more than an hour where our worries were somewhere else, where we enjoyed each others company, and the world around us. I took some photos with my phone, I’ll share a few here, but I also was inspired to do a little watercolor, an ode to our beautiful morning.
To my family in the midst of the “Polar Vortex”, miss you all but….
I love Southern California Winters!
Happy New Year!
Best Wishes to all, and may everyone have a good and prosperous year! Let’s hope that goes for us as well. 2013 has been a tough one, not sorry to see it end. Of course there were blessings, too many to mention, but this year there were many obstacles to overcome. The best thing I can say about this past year is that Dan and I weathered it together, and despite all of our troubles, we have never been stronger. That’s pretty good. Time to change our own luck. This will be our year. That is my final resolution to post on this blog. There are those private ones that I made mention of last night, so there is a rather long laundry list ahead. I can do it, we can do it.
For tonight a very simple project, a romantic dinner for two. Two years ago for Christmas, Dan bought me “Menus for Chez Panisse”, by Patricia Curtan. It is a lovely book filled with marvelous menus in both the food listed and the menu design. Right up my alley! I was so inspired that I had intended to make menus for every special occasion and the meal that accompanied it. Of course…best intentions. Although I have made a few. One for tonight, a really quick one because I spent much of the day on the phone, logistical planning for my Dad and his dinner this evening. I’m going to throw in a few old menus just so you get the idea, and possibly some food pics. I haven’t done that in a while, but it really is just another form of art for me.
Tonight’s menu
Blue Cheese, Date and Bacon Tart-lets with Blue Cheese Stuffed Date, Bacon wrap and Blue Cheese Sauce…
Avocado and Arugula with 20 year aged Balsamic
And finally our entrée. Smokey spiced rubbed Filet, with Chimichurri Sauce, Lobster Tail and Roasted Red Potato with Garlic Aioli
Dessert will be in a while, crepes with coffee ice cream and cookie crumble. Happy New Year everyone!
Let The Resolutions Begin
It’s that time of year again, New Year’s resolution time. It’s also the time of year when stores everywhere have everything needed for organization on sale. The stacking boxes and baskets called to me from the morning paper, promising a better life through tidiness. (I feel like tidiness is a goal that is achievable for me, unlike the empty promise that my purchase of a treadmill would be) It was enough to spur me into finishing the mess I created in my studio weeks ago. It took me more than a couple of hours to clean and organize, but now the illusion is complete. My life will be better because everything is in its place, right? That’s the plan anyway. I promised myself, and by that I guess I’m making my first resolution, that I will move forward and really put effort into getting my work out there. There is unfortunately the aftermath of cleaning the studio to deal with. There are more than a few piles of “to go through” stuff sitting in our loft. It means a little more cleaning and organizing in the morning, but once it’s done there will be no excuse to not get down to work. I think its time for the kids to leave my nest and live with someone else. Yes, it’s time to start to sell some work. In the last several weeks there have been days when I’ve just thrown something together for this blog due to my heavy crafting schedule. I’m looking forward to getting back to doing the larger pieces I haven’t had the time for. The work I want to sell.
In case anyone is wondering, the portrait of Dorian Gray…I mean Jessica, is still in the dining room. Jessica asked me the other day if the portrait was aging. I told her that it was creepy, it’s getting younger. (If you are new to my blog, Jessica’s portrait has a long back story. Short version: First ever full size portrait. Started it months ago, chickened out, haven’t finished it. I will, I swear I will..oops, resolution number two)
I tried something a little different tonight. I did a small watercolor using only three colors. I’m really pleased with the results. To be honest I was exhausted from cleaning and wanted to do something simple. It is yet another piece of work where I didn’t plan ahead and just let things happen. I feel like it’s working for me.
Rantings Of A Not Quite Hypocondriac
Dear Grocery Store Owners,
I am deathly allergic to those hideous scented pine cones that you insist on placing at the entrances of your establishment. The detergent aisle is bad enough, its like running a gauntlet for me. I have to try to get through the aisle picking up cleaning products while holding my breath. Does it ever occur to you that you may be asphyxiating the general public? Or maybe that’s the plan. Get them coming in the door, hit them with overwhelmingly intoxicating fragrance in order to dull brain cells so that they don’t notice that the mayonnaise jar is six ounces smaller but still costs the same, or that they will think the ever so slightly smaller box of corn flakes is an optical illusion. (I realize that the store owners themselves are not resizing the products, but they do have something to do with pricing) I’m just asking if it is possible to limit the “festive holiday aroma” to one door so I don’t need my inhaler by the time I hit the produce section.
…Sorry, I had to get that off my chest. I am admittedly guilty of ruining my own respiratory system with art materials, however between the pine cones of Christmas and the Star Gazer Lilies of Easter, I can barely walk in the store. Don’t get me started on the guerrilla warfare of the mall kiosks that sell perfume and hand lotion. Random people popping out as I walk by trying to slather me with some scented concoction. This is what Christmas shopping does to me. I get annoyed, and that is never good.
The funny thing is that what got me started tonight was a pleasant memory, so let’s go down that route instead. I’m not feeling great today, actually haven’t been for a couple of weeks. I went to the doctor today to get some test results, and you know because I am Irish that prior to my visit I was getting my affairs in order. You know the usual stuff you think about before you get test results, like how will my family go on without me? Who will remind Dan and Brian that we need milk and toilet paper? And of course my worst fear, how much will my family curse me after I’m gone because I have so much crap that they will have to dispose of? Good news, I’m not dying, yet. No actual answers for some unexplained pain, and I don’t get a follow-up doctor appointment for another two weeks, which will fill my days with thoughts of probable diseases. I’ll bet Dan is overjoyed.Wait, wasn’t I talking about a good memory? Yes, it’s this. I miss my Mom. She died six and a half years ago. I particularly miss her when I don’t feel well. She was an avid reader of the Star and Enquirer and probably could have added to my list of suggested diseases. Actually I think we all pretty much want to talk to our mothers when we don’t feel well. Moms just make things better, at least mine did. When we didn’t feel well my Mom made us tea and toast. A hot cup of tea with milk and a spoonful of sugar with a slice of hot buttered toast. It’s still my go to for a not so great day. It reminds me of her, it comforts me. It isn’t of course a substitute for a little motherly sympathy, but it makes me think of her and that always makes things a little better.
I was lazy today. Too much crafting, too much self-imposed worry, too much intoxicating pine cone. A simple little watercolor. I need to get back in the swing of things.
The Upside
Despite what I wrote last night the day wasn’t all bad on Saturday. It was just that I worked so hard preparing for the show, and on my poem, and well, I thought I was so clever that I couldn’t resist using it. Now for the upside. Yesterday was lousy, but I did sit outside all day on a beautiful afternoon with Dan, we did enjoy our favorite pastime, which is making fun of the general public, and we met Isabella. Isabella is a beautiful young girl who was at the show with her parents who also had a booth. Shortly after I set up Isabella came over to our tables. She was enchanted by my fairies, and couldn’t decide which she liked best. Several times throughout the day she came over to play with the fairies, or drag one of her parents over to see them. Eventually she wore her father down. They came over together to choose a fairy. Isabella was beyond excited, and would pick one, then quickly change her mind and choose another. I had mentioned to her earlier in the day that I had created a “Katniss” ornament for my daughter. (For those if you who are out of touch with the universe, Katniss is the character in The Hunger Games) I had a photo of the ornament and showed it to her. That was it, that was the one. Her dad asked if she was sure that she wanted to wait for me to send an ornament rather than buy one that was already on the table. She was very definite about what she wanted. In the photo of Katniss I showed her the ornament was holding a bow, but no arrows. Isabella requested that I not permanently attach the bow, and could I make arrows? Oh, and since the fairies only have eyes could I add a smile? She was so sweet, and then she looked at me shyly and said, ” I still like to play with dolls, especially little ones, I know I’m too old.” I asked her how old she was and she said she was twelve. I said, “Honey, you aren’t too old to play with dolls. My daughter was older when she gave up her Barbie.” She broke into a huge grin. In this day when most kids are nothing more than miniature adults it was so refreshing to see a little girl who was still a little girl. It made my day. At the end of the show Isabella’s mom came over to tell me how much her daughter loved my things. I told her how sweet I thought her daughter was. Isabella came over to say goodbye to me before they left. Today I made Isabella’s ornament, including her bow, and arrows and a quiver to keep them in. That wasn’t enough. I want to encourage the imagination of any child that wants to be a child. She said she likes to play with little things, so I’m going to surprise her. When I mail her Katniss in the morning, Katniss will have a friend, her name is Isabella. I made a little doll the size of fairy that resembles Isabella. Of course since Katniss has a bow, arrows and a quiver, Isabella needs them as well, I mean if they’re going to play together… I know I whined and complained about my day, but there really was a wonderful bright light in my day, her name was Isabella.
Tonight a slightly askew watercolor of some flat ware. I was working and watching a movie at the same time so my perspective might just be off a little (any excuse, we know its my nemesis. Damn you evil perspective!) Its been weeks since I sat down and just relaxed. It is a difficult concept for me. I’m not totally unhappy with the results, but it did feel good just to be back working on my project once again.
And just in case you were interested in seeing them, Katniss and Isabella.
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.
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