I have an unfinished project for tonight. I feel bad habits forming. A few months ago I declared freedom for orphaned art that was in my studio. I vowed to rescue them and bring them to completion. I have done that with a few, but as I near the middle of this year-long project, I realize that I now have more unfinished work than when I began. That is not good. I knew earlier today that I would have difficulty getting to a project because of other plans. We drove to our daughter’s apartment to spend some time with Jessica and her husband, and to enjoy a lovely dinner. (Thank you Jessica. It was delicious!) I set out for the day with my art box of pens, pencils and charcoal, but forgot to bring my sketchbook. Jessica was kind enough to give me some paper, and I decided to create another book-plate, but chose to do a very intricate design that I didn’t have the time to complete. In other words I have a perfectly legitimate excuse for not getting finished tonight. As for the other projects? I simply have fallen back into putting what is important to me at the end of the line. Dan and I were discussing my project yesterday, and I pointed out that I didn’t give myself a day off at all for this project. With the exception of one of the several days that I had pneumonia, I have written and worked every single day since April 13th. My brother-in-law is an artist, I’m sure even he takes days off, and as Dan pointed out, it’s all his brother does, its his job. I on the other hand still cook two to three times a day, clean house, do laundry, garden, do the family grocery shopping, and numerous other projects around the house. There is also trying to reach out to my Dad several times a day by phone to help with his loneliness, to schedule help for him, and to let him know what is on television that might fill his time. There are so many projects that I have started at the last-minute, written about and posted half done, fully intending to finish them, but then they get pushed to the back of the line the next day. Tomorrow I will take stock of what is done, what is half done and prioritize my life. I also need to raise the white flag and ask for help. I try to do everything for everyone I love. I need to remember to love myself a little as well. Finally, I really need to ask myself if I haven’t fallen back to the worst habit of all, doubting myself and my abilities. I haven’t written too much about “not good enough” in a while, or about my fear of being judged, but I need to look at myself in the mirror and face the truth about what is really going on here. I hate to go back to the dieting metaphor, but much like when I am tired and give myself an excuse to eat too much, I am finding excuses to not finish the work. Why is it so easy for us to ignore our own needs? My halfway point arrives this weekend, time to take control once again and give myself permission to have the artistic life I deserve. 
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Finding Meaning In The Words Of Others
I started a new piece of upcycling the cabinet doors tonight. I decided to turn one into a table. There are recessed panels in the doors, which call to be filled. So far there has been the child’s chalkboard, the cheese tray, the menu board, and the piece of art I made for Dan with the business card from our anniversary dinner in Paris. It occurred to me today as I looked at one that the surface could easily be used as a table if I cut a piece of glass to set into the recess. I began to tinker with the idea of creating a piece of art to put under the glass and turned to my new-found love of pen and ink. I decided to draw an open book, but then decided the book needed to be written in. I have mentioned my love of quotes. I went in search of one pertaining to books and found this one by Cicero, “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” I feel that way. I consider myself very lucky to have what I have in my life. Things are not perfect, Dan is still looking for a job, my Dad is getting older, and more frail, my knees like to remind me daily that they are not happy, but I am. We are readers, we love books, there are people who think we own too many books, though I strongly disagree, one can never have too many books. From our living room/library windows there is a view of our beautiful garden. One of the pleasures of Southern California is that there is always something in bloom. I can sit in that room with the person I love, surrounded by the books I love, and gaze out at the beauty in the garden, my own little heaven on earth.
In my search for a quote I also came across another that really spoke to me:
“Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers.” Issac Asimov
I mentioned my knees, I have often said that I will take all the pain that my knees have to offer, but I can never lose my hands. Mr. Asimov’s quote is the perfect explanation of my blog, and a perfect explanation of my creativity. I spoke last night of the disconnect between what is in my head and what I hope to put on canvas. I may not get exactly what I want, but all that I am comes through these hands. I struggle daily to think of what it is I want to do artistically, but every night I sit here in front of this computer and think, and then I type. I never plan on what to write, I simply sit here and it flows out of me. I have always loved to write. I have many short stories in notebooks, and pages of poetry. I don’t share most of it with anyone. Dan of course has been the recipient of more than a few poems. Now I’m wondering if its time for those other pieces to see the light of day as well. Something to think about.
More work to be done on this piece. A last-minute addition of a trompe l’oeil pencil. I also think the addition of some color around the edges is called for, but that will have to wait until morning.
Life Changes
I started a project for tonight, a watercolor of the daughter of a friend, but didn’t manage to finish, and I’ll be saving it until tomorrow because its actually a surprise. I’m not sure if this particular person reads my blog, so I am hanging onto it until it is finished. In the meantime, my friend Emily is getting a new bedroom design, (she is four for those of you who might be unfamiliar. We recently played a fabulous game of Barbie’s.) Emily loves mermaids, and so I decided at the last-minute to do a little something for her. I have contributed a few things for her room, but her Mom is my friend Theresa, who is a very creative soul, and the room is adorable. I miss decorating my kids bedrooms, and so much more. My kids are much older, actually my youngest will be moving out soon. I guess I’ll soon be an “Empty Nester”. You hear these terms as you are aging and it seems so far away, like it’s for “old” people. I don’t feel old, and neither does Dan. It is strange to be at an age where much of the world begins to become dismissive of you. I saw a movie recently with Michelle Pfeiffer in it. She is a year older than me. I wasn’t crazy about the movie, but very pleased to see that she is aging like a normal human being. So many women on television and in the movies are looking scary plastic. I’d like to remain as human as possible. In so many ways because of this project in particular, I feel reborn. It truly is the first time in my life where I wasn’t so busy being daughter/sister/wife/mother, that I am just being myself. I of course still have children, still worry like a lunatic about them, and have my husband, and couldn’t love him more, but have come to understand that this is my time. Dan has been more than incredibly supportive of my artistic endeavors. There are days when I fall into the old ways and bury myself in the stuff of life, and it is he who is asking if I did my project yet. The days ahead seem a little strange. I’m so accustomed to Brian being around that I think I may be a little lost for a few weeks. I don’t worry too much about the growing older aspect of life, I’m just really grateful that I learned to love myself and to think about myself while I’m young enough to enjoy the time. And as I liked to remind my daughter Jessica when she was a kid, “Madonna is older than Mommy”. I’ll always have that.
Sophie
No long rambling tonight. I think I did enough of that last night. I spent the day working on some furniture refinishing, and because of that, and not one, but two long walks today, I’m running late. Dan and I are going to a wedding in less than two weeks, so it’s crunch time. There are two dresses, the one I want to wear and the one that fits. I need an early Christmas miracle! We managed between the two walks to get in about an hour and twenty minutes of exercise, hopefully between that and a lot of prayer (and less cheese), I’ll get into what I want.
I was a little tired for art tonight, I did a lot of sanding by hand today and my hands were feeling it. One of our cats, Sophie, was kind enough to pose for a quick sketch. I was searching for a project and there she was. A little charcoal sketch, something I think I need to more of. 
Do You Really “Like” Me?
My husband writes a blog, its nothing like mine, he wouldn’t consider himself an artist, but I think he is wonderfully creative in many ways. One of which is that he is a good writer. We had a conversation the other day about our respective blogs. I write every day, he writes when the mood strikes. We are both very curious about something. When we write about something serious, something that we feel is important in our little part of the world, we get maybe one, maybe two “likes”. When we write something that we feel isn’t up to par, our “likes” go through the roof. ?????? We are puzzled. If it happened to one of us then we might reason that what we feel is our better writing is crap, and in this apparently alternate universe we reside in, our not so good stuff is stellar. However, it is happening to both of us, and our blogs couldn’t be more different, in content, in writing style, and quite frankly, mine has more pretty pictures than his. (He occasionally posts a photo.) I wrote a post the other evening about hearing my couch call to me. It is one of the highest amount of “likes” I’ve received. I was a little delirious with pain at the time, and I think my writing reflected that. Now my brain hurts. Do I write better when in pain? Will you “like” me if I stub my toe before I blog? I know it can’t have been the artwork from that night. It wasn’t my best, and actually since this started out as a blog about my art as well as my life, I’d be horrified if you thought that was my best. I believe that I have produced some really nice pieces in the last few months with not a lot of feedback. My son said something last week (in his superior “I’m younger and smarter than you” best), he said that he thinks people who write blogs are self-serving. (He has his moments as a compassionate and understanding human being, this was obviously not one of them.) I think he’s just pissed that I started one first. (Just like the tattoo story…another time.) I explained to him that I started this blog because of the 365 project. I was hoping it would change my life, and it has. I also knew that I never do anything for myself, and would continue to ignore myself, and to feed my “not good enough self” that lives in the recesses of my brain unless I made it impossible to quit. The blog was born. As I explained the other night, I’d feel too guilty if I didn’t follow through. (Thank you Sr. Rose Vincent, Sr. Therese Angela, Sr. Aloysius, and all the other nuns who participated in my “guilt” education, and of course an honorable mention to my parents.) I wasn’t looking for accolades when I started this, I was looking for pressure. I succeeded beyond my wildest imagination. I feel like I’m back in high school and I want people to like me, gross. When I was in high school I never cared if anyone liked me. So I find myself at odds with myself. I have to admit it, I want you to like the art, it means a lot to me, and I hope you enjoy my ramblings, as for me personally….
For tonight another piece of pen and ink for my upcoming endeavor.
P.S. The couch says “Hello”.
Answering The Call…Of My Couch
I hate to admit it, but today is one of those days when any project is an issue. Not enough sleep, feeling a little under the weather, I just can’t seem to find any inspiration. I looked through some old photographs in my computer and actually picked a few, but the truth is I’m just not up to it tonight. I promised art every day for a year, and as I have said in the past, there are days I just didn’t count on. Today is definitely one of them. I pushed through it last night when I wasn’t feeling well, but tonight I think I’ll be raising the white flag. The only thing that I’m finding inspirational at the moment is putting my head down. However, I have been raised on the ultimate force of power in the universe, otherwise known as Catholic guilt. When I make a promise, I keep it. I realize that there is no WordPress hotline to the Vatican that might report my missed deadline, but due to masterful parental manipulation, guilt rules my life. I wouldn’t dream of not following through when I say I’ll do something. I really was going to try, but in the not so far distance I hear my couch calling my name. Of course all of the above being said, I can’t answer the call of the couch until I post something. A simple watercolor. I hope to be back in fighting form tomorrow.
Late Grade
Last night I gave myself an unofficial report card on my project so far. Guess what I forgot? Come on, we all know what it is…Perspective of course. Notice how I managed to forget that little issue? I think its post traumatic stress disorder caused by geometry. I was straightening out all the supplies that are laying about in my family room and found not one but two books on the subject. One was a book I own and have owned for years. The other was the library book I wrote about last week. Have I read them thoroughly? No I haven’t. I did crack open the library book and make a few rough sketches that I had posted last week. I also wrote last week about my love of reading. So that might make one wonder why I haven’t read these books on perspective. I have had a lifelong issue with reading. Back in the third grade I was pulled from reading class by the nuns to help the first graders with reading. My reading skills were always above my grade. I can knock off a novel in an afternoon. However, if the reading material happens to be in the form of an instruction manual, or a text-book on a subject that I am not interested in, I can read a page again and again, and nothing, not a thing. No comprehension what so ever. I hate to admit this but I’m about as stubborn as they come. I mean no disrespect as I say this, but to quote my Dad, “That one could argue Jesus Christ off the cross”. If I don’t want to do something it just doesn’t happen. I really believe that if I’m not interested enough in the subject my brain closes its eyes and refuses to look. There can be no other explanation. So my grade on the offending perspective…C- I think that’s fair, I have seen some improvement, but obviously if I actually tried to work on it I could do better. I’d like to promise I’d do so, but I really, really hate how mathematical it is. Like everything else I do and have done with art, I will continue to work on it in my own way.
And in taking a step in the right direction, I started my project early today. I’m really happy with my finished piece. Sometimes the unexpected comes into your life, and sometimes it brings incredible people with it. Alexis, a beautiful young lady and the subject of my painting tonight. I’m not actually sure who took the photograph of her, I saw it on her Facebook page and thought she looked beautiful. I also loved the abstract way the light had blurred the line of her pants, and the unusual color it cast on both Lexy and her surroundings. I’d like to think I captured her essence and the reflected color. It is the most ambitious watercolor I have done to date.
Heading Into Midterms
At the birth of this project the object was to use up the supplies I have on hand in my studio. The project evolved into much more than that, but the original purpose is still a challenge to be met. It’s been a while since I’ve written about my artistic self-doubt, and feelings of inadequacy due to my lack of artistic schooling. I bring it up again because I am nearing the halfway point in the promise of a year of art. I am roughly two weeks away, and decided to step back a little and check my progress. I have produced a tremendous amount of art since April when this all began. Not all have been pieces that I love or even like. There are some that I am immensely proud of. It is without question the most productive I have ever been artistically. The state of my studio? It pretty much looks the same. I have gone through quite a bit of watercolor paper, several canvases, some drawing paper, but for the most part it looks the same. Which is strange considering that a great deal of my materials have made their way down to our dining room, our family room, our guest room, the kitchen and even the garden. In terms of cleaning out my artistic refrigerator, I am a total failure. I might also mention here that I tend to be a bit untidy as an artist (OK, in other areas as well, particularly when creating in the kitchen), I’m working on it. However, the clutter in my brain is beginning to straighten itself out. Not that I don’t still have total meltdowns and think my work is crap. Years of self-doubt aren’t that easy to shake off. It is just that I am feeling more fearless in my art. I don’t give up when I begin to feel “not good enough” trying to sneak back into my brain. I do have to admit that there are a few recently orphaned canvases that need to be addressed. Oil is still my big hangup. Patience is really in need of attention.I have of course recently professed my new-found love of pen and ink. My watercolor skills are much better than I realized. So as I near that halfway mark I think I’m doing OK. I give myself high marks for growth in artistic confidence, but I am failing in making myself and art a priority. I am still cranking this work out after dinner. That’s right, ninety percent of the work that I have produced and posted on this blog have taken place between the hours of seven and ten at night, including writing. I guess I have to stop and ask myself what the problem is. What is the roadblock in my way? I don’t know. I do know that I can see what I am capable of in three hours, imagine what I could do if I actually gave myself time.
I decided to head up to the studio and dig out something different. Pastels. Which I will now admit I am discovering are not my favorite medium. The point is to use up the supplies. I’m trying! This piece is based on a photo from La Jolla Cove here in Southern California.
Living A Better Life
While I was at my Dad’s house I looked through his old photo albums. I ended up bringing quite a few photos back with me to repair. I’ve gotten pretty good with Photo-shop, particularly on the old damaged pics. Some were photos of my grandparents when they were young. Those pictures got me thinking. I wondered if my grandparents thought about their lives, if they were satisfied, or if they ever gave it any thought at all. We live in a very me, me, me, society. Some of that I believe is good. I think if we are allowed and encouraged to grow as people it benefits us in a multitude of ways. At the same time, in all of this self focus, do we lose sight to those around us? Is it possible to satisfy your own needs without taking into consideration the needs of others? Yes and no. One of the books I really enjoy, and have reread many times is Mitch Albom’s “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”. In essence the book speaks to how each moment in our lives we touch others in ways we don’t even realize. I think about that a lot. I’ve mentioned before that I like to think about being the “nice lady” someone remembers from their childhood. Just think of the difference we could all make if we thought about that every day. A smile, a compliment, an open door for a stranger, simple acts that cause a ripple effect. It is so easy to change the day of another person. When I think back on my life I can remember moments that make me smile with the memory of something I did that I know made a positive difference in the life of someone I barely knew. Unfortunately I can also look back and remember when I wasn’t my best. These days I’m working on always keeping what is really important in life at the top of my list. I believe as I grow (yes, even at my age…), in particular through this project, as I am more content, as I am happier, I want others to feel the same. Things that bothered me in the past seem silly now. Anger has changed for me as well. I am angry about things that I see happening in the world that I cannot change, but I am finding it difficult to be angry with those I love most. Learning to let go of nonsense makes for a better life. Focusing on who and what we love can change all of us. Thinking about those single moments with the people you love, as well as those you will never know but have a split second with, can change a life, and you won’t even realize you did it. I guarantee that in that instant you can make the world a better place.
In amongst the photos at my Dad’s was a picture of my cousin Lorna’s son Oisin. As the world around me moves at lightening speed, Oisin is quite a bit older than when this photo was taken, but I loved it. Like the painting from last night it called to me. I experimented a bit with mixed media for tonight. Watercolor, pencil, and pen.
A Plethora Of Pen
As a testament to how much I am enjoying the process of pen and ink, I did not one, but three sketches today, and all in I day where I wondered where I might find the time. I was cooking dinner for Brian’s birthday tonight, and as always it is the choice of the birthday boy/girl to decide what it is I will be cooking. Pastitsio, for those of you who are unfamiliar it is Greek lasagna. It can be complicated, and definitely time-consuming, but well worth the effort. Brian also doesn’t love cake and requested a French Silk Pie. Also a little complicated and time-consuming. Between the two I wondered where I might find time for art, but I did. First in the form of a homemade gift certificate, the second sketch while I waited for the base of my Pastitsio cream sauce to cool, and finally at the end of the evening when all was said and done, and everyone was groaning from the amount of food consumed (did I mention that I also made potato ravioli, with a brown butter Alfredo, crispy sage, and a little crumbled bacon?) We were sitting around the kitchen table talking, and I started to doodle. Sketch number three. So this is the part where I tell you all that this will be a very short blog tonight. I was on my feet all day, I ate too much, and I’m tired. This is one of those days when I forget just how old I really am. Lots of energy first thing in the morning, not so much energy by nine at night. Goodnight, I hope you like the work as much as I enjoyed creating it. And just to make you hungry, a photo of my pie.
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