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Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

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I was definitely over optimistic about this door project. It is taking me much longer than anticipated, and will most like turn into a four-day project. I’m really enjoying the process, but it is definitely time-consuming. I applied two coats of gesso to the fabric, but the texture is definitely rougher than using a canvas that has been factory prepared. I’m using some Folk Art floating medium which is certainly helping.  I started with only Titanium White and Yellow Ochre on my palette, initially thinking that I wanted to work in only two colors, but I wasn’t achieving the depth I was looking for. I added some Folk Art Metallic Taupe to the mix and it was perfect. I didn’t really have a particular design in mind when I started, sort of the “flying by the seat of my pants” work I enjoy. Here’s my problem now, it’s a problem I often encounter, I’m falling in love with this piece. I have a very intimate relationship with much of the work I produce. I’ve denied my artistic soul for so long that I often fall head over heels for the piece of the moment. The thought of selling my work is something I have yet to come to terms with. I’ve been selling things for years of course, but mostly the kind of craft stuff that I just don’t care that much about. I sold my first painting at fifteen, and not much since then, but I can’t keep everything. I would also like to earn a living at this, I can’t do that if I can’t let go. Many years ago in response to my Dad giving my work away, I began to give my work to my boyfriend. Then we broke up. It meant I broke up with my paintings as well. I heard through the grapevine that his apartment was robbed, and to add insult to injury the thief or thieves put a knife through one of his paintings, my painting. I was heartsick. I really do put so much of myself in my work, even the craft stuff that I claim to not care about. The thought of selling my work and never seeing it again kills me. (Do you think I could arrange for visitation?) I know I will have photographs to look at, but it just isn’t the same. I’ve agonized over it here in this blog before, I still haven’t bitten the bullet, but I will. I took the first step by opening a Facebook page to begin showing the work. I’m hoping to start listing prints on etsy soon. As for original pieces (I think I just felt my heart drop) those are next. Someone will break my heart and take my babies away. This is assuming anyone wants to buy them.  Maybe I’ll just be happily ensconced in my piles of work by the time I hit my seventy-fifth birthday. I’ll leave all my work to my kids. (They had better like it, it’s all they’ll be getting)

The door, day two…IMG_3844

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Beginning The Countdown

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As I contemplated what to do tonight the old 99 Bottles of Beer began to sing in my brain. You know, 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer…except my version has something to do with 90 more projects to do. I’d write out the whole thing but:

A. You really don’t want to read it

B. It makes no sense at all.

Anyway, I’m feeling a little pressured these days. The three hundred sixty-five day project is three-quarters of the way through. As much as I have accomplished, and it is a lot, my studio is nowhere near cleaned out, which was in the beginning the idea behind cleaning out my “artistic refrigerator”. I still have multitudes of supplies, and worse yet I bought more! I also feel like I didn’t get to enough drawing, or oil painting in the last nine months. Both are things I’d like to spend a little more time on, but there is also the random supply crap. You know, the bits a pieces that one might pick up along the way and say, “Don’t throw that out, I can make something with that.” I have lots of that stuff. The unfortunate thing is that with my random stuff it tends to be on the larger side, like Theresa’s kitchen cabinet doors. Remember those from a few months ago? I took a stack, did a few projects, had a lot of great ideas, and never followed through. I have decided I need a list of what I hope to accomplish in these last three months. I’m going to work on the list tomorrow…what’s the line from the other song? “I love you tomorrow, you’re always a day away…(I think the blood may have pooled in my brain from the two hours I spent in the dentist’s chair today)

Tonight I decided to grab one of those cabinet doors and do something with it. One of my favorite pieces of the last few months was the reproduction of a business card I did for my husband. It was from the restaurant in Paris where we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. The piece now hangs in our kitchen. I took a larger cabinet door, some drop cloth fabric, glue, and gesso, to turn the door surface into something I can paint on. I prefer turning the door over where the trim is a flat panel. I glued the drop cloth down, not cut perfectly, but I plan on trimming it out anyway, and right now I am waiting for the first coat of gesso to dry. At this moment I’m not even sure what I will be painting on it, but I have drying time to brainstorm…Brainstorm is over. Valentine’s Day ahead, I’ve got an idea. A heart, not a cheesy red Valentine, but a tone on tone, thinking sepia, in the center, a lovely quote, again tone on tone, and random crap to be added to frame. Unfortunately the gesso isn’t dry, and it still needs another coat. Looks like a two-day project. While we wait for that to dry (Because aren’t we all waiting for me to be finished?), I have another project. Years ago I picked up a vintage souvenir box from Mount Vernon at an antique store. The box was trashed on the inside. I redid the inside with some beautiful moss-green velvet. Tonight I replaced the top with one of my photos from Paris (note to Dan…Dear Dan, I must return to Paris, running out of photos to use, must return to replenish my supply…) The top had some flaking on the inside of the glass frame that I chose to keep, I like the patina of it.  I think it came out really nice. Definitely one for etsy. Tomorrow I will return to my cabinet door. I hope to add an additional coat of gesso before bed tonight.

Before photos…

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IMG_9734After photos…

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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. IMG_3828

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One From The Archives

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Tonight I am posting an old one, so old in fact that I don’t remember when I drew it. I had as always fully intended to create something new for tonight, but we are having friends come for dinner, and we have hardwood floors and cats, and worse yet the Ghost of Christmas Crafting is still in the house. Glitter in every crevice of my hardwood floors. One of my dinner guests is a former Marine, I’m not sure he would appreciate leaving my home sparkling. I cleaned for about four hours, shopped, cooked and baked. Needless to say I’m tired, but I’m also out of time, they will be here in a half hour. I was organizing some of my work today and came across this drawing, as I said its been around for a while, but I mentioned a few weeks ago about my plan to do menus for special occasions, and here one is. These are guests that I promised dinner to a year ago. Yikes! What a year, but a promise is a promise, and I really do enjoy their company. So for tonight I combined my old sketch with my new plan, and I have to say I am quite happy with it. I’m off to final preparations, and for once to try to be ahead of the game and relax and enjoy my evening. In case you were wondering, I came through yesterday’s hike with flying colors, nary a pain in sight. We will be going again in the morning, hopefully with the same results.Menu 1 11 14

Asking For Trouble

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I know that there are times that many people in my life think I’m a major league whiner. I of course feel that my complaints are perfectly legitimate. I have many, many injuries, most, well OK all, are my own graceless fault. I have been warned by the doctor not to do certain things in my life, mostly things that require coordination, but do I listen? No, why would I do that? I may piss and moan now and then because things hurt, but they hurt because I never, ever intend to give in to an injury. I complained after our long New Year’s walk of six miles over a little bit of rough terrain. It took me a couple of days to get over it, but I was back out within a few days walking in the neighborhood, and back out in the plateau day before yesterday. Today I did it again, pushed myself hard, pushed through the pain and injuries and went hiking with Dan. We hiked a trail alongside Lake Hodges in San Diego. I’m not exactly sure how many miles we hiked today, we were out there for two and a half hours, but I do know that we hiked up the side of a hill to an elevation of 2620 feet. Two or three times as we walked along Dan offered me an out, I didn’t take the offer. I love walking, I love being out away from our worries, I love being with my husband. We could see that some of the trail ahead of us might be difficult, but thanks to a terrific walking stick that Dan found for me, an ankle brace, a knee brace, and a helping hand from my loving husband, I did it. (Of course getting back down those steep, narrow paths wasn’t quite as much fun) We sat on some rocks and spent a little time just breathing it all in. Spectacular views, peaceful sounds, and wonderful company. There isn’t a better way to spend a day. That being said, we will have to wait to see how I’m feeling tomorrow. I asked for it.  I predict a little whining.

I didn’t rest when I came home, or ice the weak spots, (Again, why would I do that, sensible woman that I am…not) I continued the organization of my studio. By the time I actually sat down I was too drained to be very creative. I started to sketch a scene from today, but I looked across the room to see Brian passed out in a chair. I have to admit I was a little jealous. I decided to give myself a break tonight and just do a quick sketch. Of course Brian hadn’t moved for an hour, until I began to draw. l think I need to follow his example and pass out in my chair. A rough sketch of my son is all I can manage tonight.1 10 14

One Down…

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At least a dozen more to go. That would be New Years resolutions. I’m breaking one as I write…at ten o’clock. I said I wouldn’t post late, but here I am posting at the end of my day. In all fairness to me I did have a dental appointment today, did take care of a couple of children who needed some “Mommy” time, cook breakfast and dinner, organize all of our medical receipts, clean my family room and kitchen…and then some. It’s amazing I get to the artwork at all. My other resolution was to have confidence in my work. I blew that tonight. I was working on the final mirror in my series of mirrors. It was coming along nicely and I started second guessing myself. I screwed up a perfectly good drawing. I didn’t leave well enough alone, and when pen and ink is the medium of the day, mistakes are definitely permanent. I covered up the error to a certain extent, but I look at the illustration and for me there are neon arrows pointing out my mistake. I just need to recognize that the work is good enough, and just walk away (Didn’t I just point out that I had learned to walk away? Apparently I was mistaken.) So here it is, mistakes and all, the last of my antique silver mirrors. Long day, late night…off to bed!1 9 14

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The finished series. I guess tonight’s doesn’t look too bad after all.10 29

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.1 8 14

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To my family in the midst of the “Polar Vortex”, miss you all but….IMG_3658

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I love Southern California Winters!

Reflections On Writing

If you’re a writer I don’t believe there can be anything worse than a lost thought. I’m sure writer’s block has its issues, but for me there is nothing worse than that fleeting thought that disappears from my mind in nearly the instant that I have it. I had such a thought this morning, and I remember thinking I need to remember this for my blog later. (Notice I remember thinking I should remember, but I don’t remember what the thought was) At least with writer’s block you aren’t pulling your hair out at the sentence that got away. I’ve been writing about as long as I’ve been drawing. Stacks and stacks of poetry, and endless beginnings to short stories. I have several journals with words contained within, but what I have much, much more of are the scraps of paper where I managed to record some of those fleeting thoughts. Grocery store receipts, deposit slips from my check book, and a pile of the loose subscription cards that fall from the pages of magazines. I have always planned to go back to them. Some to decipher the sentences that I scribbled in the dark when inspiration struck in the middle of a restless night, others because I was in an inconvenient place or time and just grabbed a quick second to record my thoughts before they vanished. There are times when these quick notes have turned into something special. Times when I reread words and they in turn gave birth to poetry. I have said it before, I love the written word. Much like art, when two people look at a painting they don’t both have the same reaction, each individual is made up of their own thoughts and experiences that play a part in how the work speaks to them. Reading the written word also speaks to our own experiences, we take those words and unknowingly apply it to our own lives. The words live on deep in our minds and can color our view by what we have taken from it. There have been times when I have read words that have caused me to go back in my own life and see a situation in a new light.  There may come a time before this project ends that I will illustrate my words. There has never really been a time when I thought of having the two connect, although I guess in some ways this very project has done that.

I had planned on finishing my table today, but as always there were other things to attend to. In the end I decided to return to one of my favorite activities, pen and ink. This piece may look familiar. Quite some time ago I drew an antique hand mirror in pen and ink, I have done the same tonight. It’s just a different mirror. I actually own four vintage mirrors and decided to draw another. As I sketch this beautiful mirror I again marvel at the craftsmanship of old. It is in itself a beautiful piece of art.1 7 14

Mirror illustration from October 29th.10 29

Orphans Of Another Kind

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Last night I brought out one of the “orphans”, my half done works of art. There are however other “children” lurking in the corners of the studio. I have mentioned that I’m a little A.D.D. in the art department. I start many other projects that I am completely interested in at the moment, but then my attention gets drawn to a different project and I forget all about the first one. Many of these orphans happen to be furniture pieces. Always with the idea of resale in mind. I have more of these projects than I care to say. Pieces that fill my garage and even my garden in hopes of one day finding a new home. I have chosen to adopt one of them as my project for today, and possibly tomorrow. It’s an old drop leaf table I bought a few years ago. One of the reasons I haven’t finished it as of yet is that I kept changing my mind on how I wanted to paint it. I have finally decided to paint it like an old hand painted Victorian plate. I have a small collection of these beautiful antique plates, some of them are exquisite. One of my favorites has both Violets and Hydrangea on it, which just happen to be amongst my favorite flowers. I thought if the top were down it would be a beautiful piece of art on its own. I still have some work to complete on it, but I think I’ve finally hit on what I want to do. The base of the table is still painted from another incarnation, but the top is well on its way to where I want it to be. I want to get it finished tomorrow. There are way too many unfinished art projects cluttering up my house and my head. New year, time to clean up the clutter, and more importantly time to make some money.IMG_3565

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Lessons Learned

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Tonight I did a countdown on my calendar. There are ninety-nine days (including tonight) until I will have completed this three hundred and sixty-five day project. It has been quite a challenge coming up with the time, the projects, and the inspiration, but I have struggled through, not always happy with what I produced, but always happy that I did indeed produce something. In truth I have created more art in the last two hundred sixty-seven days than I have in my entire life, and I think many of the pieces are the best work I’ve ever done. There are a few projects that I phoned in, there are two missed days, one due to illness, one from absolute exhaustion and lack of time, and those damn fairies. I’ve actually assigned myself an extra day (in case you were counting), on April 13th, the one year anniversary of the first project, I want to create something special. I don’t know what as of yet, I don’t even know what medium I will choose to use, but I want to mark the occasion with a piece of art. I also want to challenge myself in these next ninety-nine days to push myself even harder. I still have Jessica’s portrait to finish, and I won’t feel that this project is a success without it. As for tonight, my title says it all, “Lessons Learned”. I took on another orphan tonight. A few years ago while at a Starbucks in San Francisco I noticed a young woman sitting with her back to me. I love Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks”, it’s a favorite of mine. Something about the singular woman sitting at the counter was reminiscent to me of the solitude and loneliness that Hopper’s painting evokes in me. I snapped a few photos of her and put them in my “someday I’ll paint again” file. It must have been at least a year before I looked at that photo again. I sketched it out on a canvas and began an oil painting. I didn’t last long. I had the figure a little more than half painted, had given up completely on the background, and I had decided that it wasn’t good enough. It went into the pile of half done work, my orphans. I hadn’t yet learned my “lessons”.

Lesson 1. One of the things that this project has taught me is that my art isn’t meant to be a xerox copy. Art is meant to evoke feeling, my paintings don’t need to look like an exact copy of a photograph. I need to detach from perfection and paint with emotion.

Lesson 2. Texture, texture, texture. My old work was so one-dimensional. I’ve learned to enjoy painting without feeling the need to smooth out the rough edges. I’ve done a couple of paintings using only my palette knife, they are among my favorites.

Lesson 3. Art doesn’t have to be finished in a day. I’ve learned to let work evolve, taking time to let the work speak, the brush speak, and to not rush things.

Lesson 4. This is a big one. Walk away! I have ruined more pieces in my artistic life from not leaving well enough alone, often seeing something really beautiful happening only to second guess myself and destroy it in the process.

Lesson 5. (If you are sick of hearing me talk about my wonderful husband you can skip this one) Dan is amazing. I have always known that he loves me, but in the last several months he has proved to be my biggest supporter, cheerleader, and all-round best partner I could have. He is always there to make sure that I have the time to work on my art. He cooks meals, falls asleep on the couch waiting for me, and is willing to lend a hand on anything I need. He has encouraged me through the tough days, and helps me with honest criticism, and even posted for me when I had pneumonia last June.

My orphan is still a work in progress tonight. When I took this painting out of my studio tonight it spoke volumes about how much I had given up on myself, how I gave in to my feelings of inadequacy, how often I half-finished things in fear of judgement. It was flat, it was lifeless, I think I was feeling a little of that about myself. I unfortunately didn’t take a photo before I started working today, but here is my solitary woman in progress. She will have to wait a few days to dry until I can finish, but I’m really pleased with where we are both headed.1 5 14