Home » Posts tagged 'Family' (Page 11)

Tag Archives: Family

Early Valentine

I love putting up the Christmas decorations. It looks so festive and beautiful…for the first week, It then begins to look cluttered and messy. I have a very short holiday decor attention span. I know I’ve reached my limit when every time I walk past something that has some kind of glittery sheen I grab it and lay it on the dining room table. Six thirty this morning I am making my way down the stairs, I get as far as the landing and turn to walk down the second set of stairs and stop. I wrap this portion of the railing in greenery every year, with lights and ornaments. I grabbed the ornaments yesterday on one of my many trips up and down. Today I didn’t even make it to my first cup of coffee. I began unwrapping the bannister as I walked down. I unfortunately woke Dan, he thought it was the cats. Nope, just me being me, doing whatever I feel has to be done at that exact moment in time. Doesn’t matter the time, what I’m wearing, if I’ve had coffee, it needs to be done now. I stopped when Dan came down, had coffee, made breakfast, and then had planned to take a bath to appease my knees. Dan went for a walk, which I turned down because my knees hurt, but forty-five minutes later when he returned I was still on my feet dismantling Christmas. In the end we were all finished by about twelve thirty, me still in my nightgown and robe, Dan in his walking clothes. My house? Beautiful, no clutter (well, actually lots of clutter but the stuff I like having around) and all is well in my world.

Artistically it was a frustrating day. A day where I started more than one project and none seemed to want to work. I think I was tired from this morning, and in a bit of a funk. I started a watercolor of a lighthouse, which I measured, and measured, and measured, to get the perspective right, it was wrong. I don’t know how that is possible but it just didn’t work. In the end I decided to give Dan an early Valentine. We don’t do much for Valentine’s Day, we are fortunate enough to love and appreciate each other every day. I made him a piece of art a few years ago in a Mexican Nicho, a small tin box with a glass door. I wrote a little poem, and in my odds and ends I had two intertwining rings and an old metal heart. I made him another tonight with a painted ceramic heart I had, and another Nicho. I need a good night’s sleep to refresh my artistic mojo!IMG_3554

IMG_3556

Taking Things A Step Further

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Feeling so much better today. My feet are beginning to forgive me, and my knees are almost back to their daily pain instead of the almost intolerable aches of yesterday. Have I mentioned that they creak? If you’ve ever seen the old Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella television production starring Lesley Anne Warren you will understand. One of the ugly step sisters (as if it weren’t bad enough that she was ugly) had creaking knees that made noise, that’s me. My days of sneaking up on people are over, I sound as though I click castanets when I climb the stairs. Most days its just part of my life, some days are like yesterday when I start picking out which Rascal I want to drive. I’ve become accustomed to the pain. My doctor tore her A.C.L. a few years ago. When she saw me she said I was the first person she thought of, and then she told me she sold her two-story house and bought a ranch style home because she now had a bad knee. I called her a wimp. I probably go up and down our stairs a minimum of a dozen times a day. I’m stubborn, I refuse to give up.

Today was a day that I was up and down more than twenty times while working on my project. I am so happy with the results of the glue and burning technique that I am anxious to see where it can go next. I went into the studio to see what I had to play with. I had purchased a couple of four-dollar mirrors from Ikea. They are unfinished wood and a terrific surface for painting or decoupage. Originally I had planned to just burn the glue right on there, but then I remembered that I had some Anaglypta wallpaper. It is wallpaper that is embossed. (Created by Thomas Palmer and introduced in 1887. Thank you Wallpapersplus.com for the history lesson!) I’ve used it for covering hat boxes before. I have a couple of rolls from my Dad, one of the advantages of being the artistic daughter of a house painter is that there is some pretty cool stuff lying around. One of the rolls has a Fleur-de-lis pattern on it. I glued it to the surface of the wood frame and then added another coat of glue on top. Then I burnt it. Very cool, looks like tin ceiling tile. I added my usual metallic paint treatment to it. I loved how it looked but it seemed ordinary to me. Up the stairs again. I have a box of metal odds and ends. Old drawer handles, door plates, keys, springs, etc…thanks again Dad. I figured there had to be something I could add. I toyed with the idea of adding something to hang stuff on, like necklaces, but it seemed impractical. One of the drawer handles stood out so I glued it to the top. Still not enough. Back up to see what else was there. I dumped the box out. At the bottom was a piece from a very old candelabra that sits in my room. It had fallen over and a piece broke off. I saved it because I save everything. That’s when I decided to add it to the front of the mirror to turn it into a mirrored sconce. The addition of two other vintage drawer handle pieces to brace the candle cup were a great addition. It isn’t fully completed. I may or may not add some paint to the metal pieces, and I have some soldering to do tomorrow, but it looks so amazing I hot glued the pieces enough to put it together for a photo tonight.1 3 14 (2)

 

1 3 14 (3)

1 3 14 (4)

1 3 14 (5)

1 3 14 (1)

1 3 14 (6)

The Day After

Posted on by | 2 Comments

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.1 2 14

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!

1 14

I wish everyone could start the year in peace, so I’ll share some photos of our day. IMG_9778

IMG_0063IMG_3483

 

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.12 27

Straight Out Of Dickens

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Merry Christmas Eve to all. Quite some time ago I posted about my orphaned paintings, work I started but never finished in fear of being judged. I pledged at the time to rescue some of the orphans and see them through to completion, I did a few, but then I moved on to other things. Today I have rescued an orphan. Consider it to be straight out of Dickens, a rescued orphan. You may also consider it my ghost of Christmas Past. My son is now twenty-three years old. The painting is of him…at eight or nine. It’s obviously been awhile. One could almost hear the cries from my studio, “Please Ma’am, won’t you finish me?” I have made a gift for everyone in my family this holiday season except for Dan. I had something particular in mind for him, but alas time hasn’t allowed me to do what I wanted. This painting was also for Dan. He has been waiting for many, many years to see it finished. Well, Merry Christmas Honey, it’s done. For Christmas Present, I’ll try to knock off something tomorrow, maybe something for myself. Christmas Future? I have been writing about moving ahead with my work. Getting ready to present my stuff to the world. I’ve been writing about it, but I haven’t been doing it. I had a doctor appointment this morning for the mysterious pain in my side. (I’m not dying or anything, graceful girl that I am it seems that in my efforts to stay healthy, when I walk I am not doing it right. I am pulling muscles in my thigh or something…only me. The doctor asked if I stretch before I walk. My reply? “Why would I do anything the right way?”) Back to the future…I began a conversation with a lovely woman who works for the doctor. She likes art, she has a friend who opened a gallery in nearby Escondido. As if it were meant to be.  Just last night when Dan and I walked I spoke of trying to sell my art…do you think maybe someone is trying to tell me something? I need to get there, I need to get somewhere. It’s time, and there’s no time like the present, and wouldn’t be wonderful to think about the future and feel cheery and bright.

12 24

 

Feeling Merry and Bright

Dare I say it? I’m feeling just a little merry, as in Christmas. We went out today to get our tree. It’s really sort of a non event for us. We don’t have little ones who are excited. There is also the fact that as we chose our tree I was taking photos in the garden center at Home Depot to torture my sisters with. (Come to think of it that made it worth the trip.) I knew it was snowing in Chicago and it was eighty-four here. The temperature also affects the way I feel. When you grow up in the Midwest you want a white Christmas. The only snow I see here is on the tops of the mountains which are more than an hour away. I’m not complaining. I’m getting older, and I am getting to the age where every injury I have sustained in my life is tapping me on the shoulder to say, “Ha, forgot about me didn’t you?” I hurt in multitudes of places depending on the day. I can only imagine what some nice icy weather would do to me. I think I miss the idea of a white Christmas more than anything else. Didn’t I say I was merry? Doesn’t sound like it, but I am, really I am.

There is also this, before we moved to California we cut down our own tree. Our home was outside the city and we lived only a few minutes from a tree farm. I have fond memories of going with the kids in the cold picking our tree, coming back to the house and drinking something hot, and decorating the tree. The experience isn’t quite as picturesque at the home improvement store when I’m too warm to wear a jacket, but once the tree is in the house, and the boxes of ornaments come out, I’m in full holiday mode. I am a very sentimental woman, I remember nearly every ornament and when we got it. My favorites of course are the goofy ones that the kids made, and one that my mother in law made. It is in the tradition of the old German ornaments made with cotton and cloth with the exception of a cut out from a photo of Jessica’s face. It was really cute when it was new, but as the years have gone by it has gotten really creepy looking. I make sure to put it front and center. The tree wouldn’t be complete without creepy Baby Jessica.  Every year I am also reminded of an ornament I made a very long time ago. It was in the third grade. When I was a kid there weren’t many of the current safety regulations in place. We created an ornament with a Styrofoam ball, toothpicks, paint, and glitter. I remember mine was orange. We had to stick the toothpicks all around this ball, dunk it in paint, and then again in glitter. It wasn’t an ornament, it was a deadly weapon. Like a giant porcupine ball, or some Medieval instrument of torture. (Possibly a craft idea inspired by the Inquisition?)  I can’t imagine a school these days allowing kids to make anything close to it.  Of course once the ornaments come out, the snowmen come out. I’ve mentioned my dirty little collecting secret before. I haven’t taken them out of the boxes quite yet, they are awaiting my attention in the morning. (Photo tomorrow night)

Tree trimming in our house usually starts with Vince Guaraldi and the music from Charlie Brown Christmas. It sets the tone perfectly. Dan really likes Charlie Brown Christmas so a few years ago I made him a Charlie Brown tree and painted an ornament red for him to hang from it. I also painted a few ornaments for him as a gift.  They will have to suffice as my art project for the day. I spent the morning creating my Dad’s five Irish fairies. (Much thanks to my cousin Lorna in Ireland for giving me the correct spelling of Merry Christmas in Gaelic.) One of the things I truly love about the artistic abilities I have is that when I want to make something special for someone, I have the skill to do so. It makes me very happy…I mean merry.12 17 (3)

12 17

12 17 (2)And finally, a few Irish fairies.

12 17 4

 

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.IMG_3128

A Little Tale

It has been a very long day, actually a very long month. I have been working more hours than I care to think about. Hopefully it will all pay off this weekend, so again I ask the universe (that means you, people who are reading this) for good karma for Saturday. I have checked the weather, no rain this week, it is predicted to be 73 here in Temecula.( I’m really sorry to all my East Coast friends and Midwest relatives, you have my condolences on your weather.) I spent the day on fairies again. I have more than one hundred and ten right now. Needless to say I did not get to any artwork today. I will instead tell you a funny little tale about my daughter and show an older painting of mine. The painting doesn’t actually exist anymore. All I have left is a photograph.

When Brian was a little boy he did all kinds of funny, naughty things. He also gave us the trip from hell in Disney world. He threw a tantrum in every country in Epcot. He didn’t have terrible two’s, he had horrific three’s. Jessica was always a sweetheart. We always laughed about the funny, naughty things Brian did. One day she asked me if she had done anything wrong. I think she was feeling left out. To be honest I had a hard time thinking of anything. There were small things like unrolling the toilet paper through the house, or the time she fried the remote in the microwave, but probably the worst thing she did was ruin a painting. The funny thing is I wasn’t mad when she did it. She was small. To be honest I’m not sure exactly how old she was, but I caught her writing on the floor with marker. I sat her down and explained that we didn’t write on floors or walls, only on paper. I had weeks earlier finished the painting that I’m posting here tonight. I walked into the room to find Jessica, a red permanent marker, and my painting. You do the math. That’s right, red scribbles all over my beautiful painting. How could I be angry? No walls, no floors, she drew on what she thought was paper. Or maybe she had early leanings towards becoming an art critic.winter scene

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.12 10