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Let The Sunshine In

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My personal forecast is looking a little gloomy. I need a little sunshine in my life. Yes, I live in Southern California. I’m sure those who live on the East Coast are crying their eyes out for me right about now, but its true. I’m still wheezing, and honestly afraid to go to the doctor. I’m afraid that it just might be pneumonia once again. Meanwhile I am not only hitting the one year mark of this project, but we are closing in on a year of Dan not having a job. On the positive side, the reason it is only gloomy and not a Snoopy-esque “Dark and stormy night”, is that this might just be forcing us into a plan for what we have wanted all along. A business where we can work together. I’ve mentioned our business here, but we had kind of let go of the dream in the last few months. I think worry and stress began to get the best of us. Money as always is the biggest issue, the economy is still not fantastic, and of course the fear of taking the plunge. The one thing I know for sure is that we can do it as long as we are together, because again, it has been a year, and not an argument in sight. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I should rule the world, and while that is still true, I am perfectly happy to let Dan be the boss in our business. We will as always be partners in every way, but I know my strengths as well as my weaknesses (Yes, I do have a few…just a few), I know his as well. There is also an old saying that my Mom often used, “Too many chiefs and not enough Indians”. (Sorry Native Americans, no offense intended)  I want to make sure that the people who work with us know that there is an order to things. A business can’t survive without that. So there’s a plan, kind of, but enough to reassure me that things can change, and a bad situation might just be the ticket to making our dream come true. (Dan, this one was for you.) We need to make our own sunshine…so I did just that.

I love watching Sunday Morning on CBS. In particular I like all the creative ways that they end each segment with a sun done is some creative manner. This is mine, a paper mache sun, painted in acrylic. As for last night’s project, I did some work on it earlier, but fumes began to upset me. There’s always tomorrow.

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Motherly Advice

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I am a woman, I am a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an artist. I am also a mother. I think a fairly decent one. So often on this blog I joke around and poke fun, almost always at myself, but tonight I am giving maternal advice to all those young artists out there. It is simple. WEAR A MASK! I have touched on this subject a little bit in the past, but tonight I am very serious. I never wore a mask. I sprayed dangerous chemicals indoors. I painted with semi gloss paint with improper ventilation. I have worked in garages, in basements, even in my studio without doing things the right way. I had an infection in my mouth many, many years ago from holding one paintbrush in my mouth while using another in my hand. I have wiped excess paint into my clothing, essentially wearing chemicals, all because I was too involved in the process to think about the consequences. My Dad yelled at me. He was a house painter who had gone through hazmat training. He told me if he ever came in my house again and it smelled of spray paint that he would be really upset with me. Dan has repeatedly warned me for years. Did I listen? No, stupidity and stubbornness rule the day. I didn’t want to stop what I was doing in order to take the correct precautions, now I pay the price. Last night I did a not so great piece of art. Why? Because I felt awful, because I spent the day wheezing. Last night Dan made me laugh as we went to bed and ended up running for the inhaler. I am an extremely intelligent woman who has made some really stupid choices. I have spent the last week with a simple head cold, but for me any illness goes straight to my respiratory system, which by the way wasn’t so great to begin with. I was the victim of cold and damp Chicago winters for many years. I’ve had bronchitis more times than I care to say. I had pneumonia last June. I can no longer be in the same room with a flower that has a strong fragrance. The detergent aisle at the grocery store is an issue. If it seems like I am belaboring my point, I am doing so intentionally, I don’t want anyone else to make my mistakes. I have a passion for art, but I also enjoy breathing (I just can’t go without making at least one semi serious joke). I woke breathless this morning, and struggled on and off through the day. No piece of art ever produced will be worth your health. Learn from me, just consider me your “artistic mom”.

As I said, today was a struggle. I began work on a piece, but as I have often done before I won’t be finishing it until tomorrow. Not enough oxygen slows me down.

 

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The Men In My Life

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My twenty-fifth wedding anniversary is four months from today. If you read this blog you know how much I love my husband. However much I love Dan there are other men in my life. I’m not talking about my Dad, although I do love him. Brian is one of the great joys of my life, but I’m not talking about my son either. There are two men, well maybe three. I believe I may have mentioned two of them before (after more than three hundred posts I just can’t keep track), there is “Bob” as in Redford. I’ve loved Bob since I was ten, even though he is the same age as my mother, and he is looking older. We watched “All Is Lost” last week, and Dan was only too happy to point out how much better he is aging compared to Mr. Redford. I had to agree. There is also “Bob Jr.”, a.k.a. Brad Pitt. Brad reminds me of young Bob, so he too gets a little piece of my heart. My other man is chef Tyler Florence. This isn’t a physical attraction (although he is cute), it’s definitely food related. As I so often mention, I love, love to cook, and I am really good at it, but when I am in a quandary and not sure how to make something, Tyler is my man. He never fails me. Tyler offers me security in my little corner of the world, my kitchen. No need for concern because Tyler’s advice is only a few computer clicks away. I have also mentioned that one of the great things about being artistic is that if I see something I like I can pretty much make it for myself. I saw a photo in a magazine of Tyler’s kitchen. He has a chalkboard wall, I have a chalkboard wall, but he had a pig on his wall, and I loved it! My chalkboard wall isn’t quite as big as Tyler’s, but I also had a large chalkboard hanging in my kitchen. I made my own pig. He is fairly close to Tyler’s, the best I could do from the small photo I had. I had a long day yesterday, not enough sleep the night before, and as I wrote last night, I stayed overnight in a hotel with Dan. Our hotel room had a window that overlooked a parking lot. A parking lot that was lit for the World Series. The light coming in over the curtains was so bright we couldn’t sleep. We were both up on and off all night. I decided to give myself the night off and instead post my pig. Thank you Tyler for the cooking advice, and thank you for my pig.2 25 14

One Man’s Trash

Some time ago on this blog I wrote about my Dad and myself and how we “saved” things. I referred to us by the name my Mom gave us which was Sanford and Daughter. This morning I was watching CBS Sunday Morning, the news and human interest story program. On one of the segments there was a piece about hoarders, it is now a diagnosed mental disorder. I didn’t even have to turn my head, I knew Dan was smiling behind the newspaper, particularly when it came to the woman who saves the metal holder off the top of Chinese takeout containers because, “You’ll never know what you can use them for.” Famous last words. Words I have spoken so much, much more than you can imagine. My “Artistic Fridge” that I am in the process of cleaning out is filled with lots and lots of  “I can use this for something” fragments. In my defense I actually do use some of these pieces from time to time, but I will admit there are probably more pieces than I will ever get to. People with this disorder have anxiety when separating from their things. It apparently runs in families. Funny since I referred to my daughter as “Sanford and Granddaughter”only yesterday . It made me sad to see how difficult it was for some of the people on the show, but also made me realize that maybe I really need to look at all the stuff, the fragments, the pieces of things I have kept. I certainly think I may have just a touch of this disorder, or harkening back to another post about Myra and Emma (the ladies who rewarded us neighborhood children with candy for picking up trash), it may just be that I can’t stand to see waste, or see something perfectly usable end up in a landfill. Could it possibly be The Boxcar Children? The books by Gertrude Chandler Warner that so enthralled me as a child? All that said, I’m ninety percent finished with the first of my window projects. An old window, scrap plywood, left over fabric, and vintage hooks. In other words, garbage. Bits and pieces given new life in something quite useful and pretty.

I’ve again leaned the window against a mirror for the center. There are three small hooks on the bottom for hanging jewelry or keys, and one larger hook on the side.Tomorrow we attempt to cut the mirror once again.2 23 14 (2)

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Addicted

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Did you hear the ringing? That was me admitting to phoning it in tonight. My “to be continued” from last night is still on hold.  The reason? More than a year ago Dan bought me seasons one and two of Downton Abbey. I’m not a huge television watcher, and very particular about what I watch. I knew I would like Downton Abbey, and honestly have put it off for a year fearing the worst, and I was right. I’m addicted. It has literally taken over my day. Late in the day I realized that I needed to tear my eyes away for a moment and work on something for tonight.  Dan paused the DVD long enough for me to run up to the studio and grab supplies. I was going for clay of some kind, but spied a linoleum block in the cabinet. It’s been awhile since I’ve played around with carving linoleum so I decided that I’d do that. As I was leaving the room I saw a heart-shaped Nicho (a Mexican tin art formed box) and decided that was what I wanted to do. A simple design that took way too long because my attention was elsewhere. The idea was to make a reverse block print. I like where it’s headed, but on printing with the block I definitely think it needs a little more detail. Some of what I carved in got lost in the ink. I did take one of the prints and add a little color and wrote something to put in the empty space I created in the center. I think I’ll play with it a little more tomorrow.057 That is of course if I can get my fix, only a few episodes left (at least until I get seasons three and four), back to reality, art, and windows tomorrow!

My Valentine

There are some moments in life that you will hold on to forever. Meeting my soul mate, the love of my life was one of  them.

I will hold on to him and love him eternally.

He is my Valentine every day of the year, every minute of my life.

A day spent with the love of my life…my couch. Only kidding of course. I am so not enjoying the euphoria of impending flu, you know the “I feel like I was just hit by a truck” kind of feeling? I’ll be quick once again this evening because my Valentine is waiting for me on the couch to watch our favorite love story, “Midnight In Paris”.  As Dan said, it isn’t your typical romance movie, its more about falling in love with Paris. It is a feeling we are both familiar with because it happened to us.

For tonight a Valentine for my husband. The lyrics of our song, “What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life”, printed on a piece of vellum which I had already printed one of my dried flower photos on. It is sandwiched between two pieces of plexiglass with copper tape. I hope at some point to figure out soldering and add an attachment for hanging. I also posted a close up of a bit of the lyrics. It is a lovely song, one that suits us well.

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Who I Am

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I think I was born with a “No Compete” clause. I have no competitive edge, none. It doesn’t mean that from time to time people don’t annoy me enough to make me want to prove something, that is a whole other animal. Maybe that’s why I shy away from promoting myself. A few things brought this to mind tonight. First on the list is that I happen to be watching some of the Olympic coverage. I marvel at the athleticism. (We all know by now that I have none.) In college I had switched majors to advertising, a young and stupid move. Not that I couldn’t have produced some fabulous ideas, I come up with some pretty amazing ones all the time, if I do say so myself. It’s just that there aren’t too many careers as competitive as advertising, I’d have been eaten alive, unless of course someone pissed me off, then it’s game on. There was also a conversation that I had not once, but twice today. I have three sisters, when everyone starts to talk I quiet down. With Dan’s family, everyone talks over one another. They are quite good at it, and amazingly all know what the others are saying. I’m not loud enough for that. I don’t even try. Another reason is that last night a friend (well-meaning of course), wanted to know how to post a comment on this blog to tell the world how (her words) AMAZING I am. While I very much appreciate the sentiment, I would be mortified if someone wrote that. This isn’t a self-esteem or self-confidence issue. I am old enough to realize it’s OK to say that I’m talented without feeling like I’m bragging. It’s a fact, I do indeed have a lot of talent (not downhill skiing talent, but talent none the less), I’m just not comfortable shouting it from the rooftops. It’s not who I am. Thanks to age (and this project), I am more and more comfortable with the idea of myself as an “artist”. I spent a lot of years feeling like a fraud. Claiming to be an artist, but feeling like I didn’t have the pedigree. Well I do have the credentials,( just ask God, he gave them to me.) I’ve always loved being able to do the things that I can do, I’ve always longed to do other things that I can’t do, (No, not downhill, but maybe figure skating, or even walking and chewing gum at the same time without requiring knee surgery.) I’ve just always felt that as privileged as I am to have the skills that I have, I realize that they are skills that many other people are blessed with as well. I have from time to time been accused of “showing off”. It couldn’t be farther from the truth, because the truth is that I enjoy using my talents, every one of them to do things for others. Whether it is cooking a beautiful meal for friends or loved ones, painting something for a friend, or (my favorite) making something as a gift for a child, it’s never about, “Look what I can do.” It is always about my love of giving, of making someone happy, or hopefully making a difference in someone’s day, or a child’s life. That is who I am, no rooftops required.

Back to readying things for our business. I completed last nights pen and ink. It will be used as an award for one of the promotions we want to run with local schools. The second piece tonight is an idea I “borrowed”. Not the artwork, that’s me, although it was inspired by an old vintage book, but the idea for the product it will become. My daughter was invited to a baby shower. The guests were given a label and instructed to put it inside any book they might purchase for the baby. It had a place for the baby’s name, and who it was from, but my favorite part was where the guest was supposed to say why that book in particular. I loved the idea. I love children’s books and love to give my favorites as gifts. I wish I knew who to credit for this lovely idea, unfortunately I don’t. I do think it adds something really special to the gift of a book, and I think a book is the best gift one can get. My finished pen and ink, and watercolor, and pen on Bristol board with a little bit of computer help on font.

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Life Changes

We had big changes here today, our son Brian has moved out.  We are now officially Empty Nesters. It’s a strange feeling knowing that he won’t live here anymore, it will definitely take some time to adjust. I’ve spent twenty-three years seeing him daily, and worrying about him continually. Of course the worry won’t ever go away, I am of course a mother, but I will miss him terribly. I did request an occasional text message so that I know he is OK. It seems silly since he will only be living fifteen minutes away, but he is still my baby. It does of course mean that I might be able to steal some storage space for my supplies.

We spent most of today trying to escape our noisy house, hopefully by tomorrow the bathroom floor and dining room ceiling will have dried. We spent time at Starbucks, the library the grocery store, and the home improvement store, basically anywhere that was less noisy than here. As for tonight, we are holed up in our bedroom with the door closed. It is the quietest spot in the house. It’s been a rough week, I’m more than happy for it to be coming to an end.

After days of not feeling so creative today was a good day. I pulled out my Sculpey and ended up creating some really nice pieces. I’m working on another of my small art boxes and came up with an idea for the cover. In keeping with my romantic themed art boxes, I created a piece to glue to the top of the box. I used a cookie cutter to cut out a Sculpey heart that I attached to a flat piece of the same clay. Once those were secured together I added a metal keyhole, and then I embellished it with very small handcrafted details. After the piece was baked I used my favorite paints for crafts, the Martha Stewart line, this time in metallic. I used the same paints to paint the cardboard box. The piece is really coming out nice. I needed to create another piece to cover the inside of the hole in the box cover. I’m not sure which yet I’ll use, but I created two pieces to choose from. I really love how these pieces came out, as did Dan. Its nice when he has a reaction to something I’ve done. He’s used to me messing around with stuff and showing him what I’ve come up with. He always likes what I do, but every now and then I get a really great reaction and it means a lot.2 7 14

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The Death Of Imagination

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A little bit of a somber post tonight, and for me out of the ordinary social commentary. Dan and I had a discussion this morning while walking, it was about imagination. The topic was inspired by my search for supplies provided by Mother Nature to add to my ever-growing ideas for the fairies I make. Not long ago I was asked by a friend how I get my ideas, and what inspires me. I touched on it a bit here in the blog. Then the other night a new friend asked why I make fairies, again I said that I’m not really sure. This morning as we walked along and I treasure hunted, I think I figured some of those answers out. I honestly don’t have any idea where much of what I do, or the inspiration for the projects come from except to say that they are from my imagination, and I believe that much of that comes from my childhood. We spent several years living next to the elevated train tracks in Chicago. Under the tracks there was nothing but empty space, weeds and occasionally trash.There was also an empty lot directly across the street. We played under those tracks and in that empty lot. We played house and pioneers amongst other things. We gathered sticks and rocks, and anything we “imagined” to be something else. We came home from school and played “school”. We read books voraciously, and added color to the black and white line drawings of coloring books. All of that activity spurred the growth of more imagination, and if you were like me and born with the drive to create it was fuel for the future. Several years ago my son commented that Dan and I must have been really bored growing up because we had no video games. I said, “We used our imagination.”  No there were no video games, no DVDs, and television was limited to the three major networks and a local channel. No one was telling us how to play, no one was putting the ideas in our heads. Violence on television wasn’t the realistic gore of today, unless of course we had on the evening news in which case we watched the war in Vietnam in our living rooms. There is so much trash filling our kids heads, so much “celebrity”, it isn’t reality. Sometimes I am shocked at how little class people show, how they debase themselves for their fifteen minutes of fame, it sends out the wrong message to everyone who watches it. My childish brain was full of scenarios of my own creation, and I didn’t have to grow up before I was ready. So much of what I do is born of the kind of childhood I had. Fairies? “The Fairy Who Didn’t Believe In Children” by Marjorie Barrows, a story I loved. I wonder how much time kids these days get to pretend to be something other than who they are, if they even know how. How much time is being spent with a good book in hand instead of an I Pad, or a video game controller? Who will write the next great fairy tale, the one that will last for generations?  We hear so much talk about what skills kids need to learn in school to be competitive in the future, I think maybe we need to add to the curriculum, a class titled “Imagination”, no books, no video, a room full of sticks and empty boxes, and inventiveness. Just imagine what could happen.

Last night I was juggling three projects. Tonight I’m down to one. I’ve put my suitcase box idea off for a day in order to cook something special for Dan for Superbowl Sunday. I focused on finishing the keyhole box, and I am again very pleased with my results. Instead of painting over the metal finish I added a scan of one of my vintage French postcards, and then on the other side I decoupaged a beautiful photo I took a few years ago. It is of a bouquet of dried roses and hydrangea. The photos are just beautiful and I’ve used them on several projects. One more vintage postcard, and the glue and burning metal technique for the back.

Just to make your mouths water “imagine” this: Korean Barbeque Short-rib Tacos, creamy homemade guacamole, a chipolte mayo coleslaw, and a lemon Sriracha aioli, and sesame seed, on small appetizer size corn tortillas. Amazing. Probably the best thing I’ve ever cooked. I think great cooks have a gift for inventiveness too.

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Learning To Let Go Of What’s Right

Tonight an exercise in thinking outside the box. I am someone who has spent their entire life trying to do things the “right” way, for the most part I have been successful. I’ve touched on this subject once before, many, many blogs ago. That need to be right and do right interferes with my creative process. When you are a person who is compelled to follow the rules, creativity, which by nature has no rules, can be difficult. Obviously I have skills in traditional art, I can draw, I can paint, but what I can’t do is get past my own limitations on the “right” way. It is an issue that I struggle with on a continuing basis. Paintings that get ruined because I think they aren’t “right” or “perfect” enough, so I change something organic and beautiful into a muddied mess. I’ve completed only a few other altered art projects along the way in this blog, and tonight decided it was time to face my demons once again. I look at the altered art pieces of other artists and absolutely love them, in fact I think the more nonsensical the piece the more I love it. There’s a childlike freedom in altered art. I would define it as art before you were told what art was “supposed to be”. Composition is of course as always important, but other than that there is freedom of expression, sort of “everything including the kitchen sink” art. I have several photographs of my grandmother Florence, that I love. The one in this project is from a costume party when she was seventeen. The original is in sepia tones so I colorized it in Photo shop. An old tin box from some postcards (recycling once again!), a photo of the window that faced our apartment in Paris, a couple of my multitude of sky photos, and butterflies, lots of butterflies. I’m not finished, a day that found me with a bad headache once again, so the components are here, the pieces will come together in the morning. It’s coming along nicely, very different for me, and something I think I need to force myself to do more often to loosen me up a bit creatively speaking.1 29