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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

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

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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!

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

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Happy New Year!

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Best Wishes to all, and may everyone have a good and prosperous year! Let’s hope that goes for us as well. 2013 has been a tough one, not sorry to see it end. Of course there were blessings, too many to mention, but this year there were many obstacles to overcome. The best thing I can say about this past year is that Dan and I weathered it together, and despite all of our troubles, we have never been stronger. That’s pretty good. Time to change our own luck. This will be our year. That is my final resolution to post on this blog. There are those private ones that I made mention of last night, so there is a rather long laundry list ahead. I can do it, we can do it.

For tonight a very simple project, a romantic dinner for two. Two years ago for Christmas, Dan bought me “Menus for Chez Panisse”, by Patricia Curtan. It is a lovely book filled with marvelous menus in both the food listed and the menu design. Right up my alley! I was so inspired that I had intended to make menus for every special occasion and the meal that accompanied it. Of course…best intentions. Although I have made a few. One for tonight, a really quick one because I spent much of the day on the phone, logistical planning for my Dad and his dinner this evening. I’m going to throw in a few old menus just so you get the idea, and possibly some food pics. I haven’t done that in a while, but it really is just another form of art for me.Dinner Invitation

A Summer dinner party#1

Our October Fest oktober fest menu

The October Fest Menu2013 Menu

Tonight’s menuIMG_3449Blue Cheese, Date and Bacon Tart-lets with Blue Cheese Stuffed Date, Bacon wrap and Blue Cheese Sauce…IMG_3450Avocado and Arugula with 20 year aged BalsamicIMG_3478And finally our entrée. Smokey spiced rubbed Filet, with Chimichurri Sauce, Lobster Tail and Roasted Red Potato with Garlic Aioli

Dessert will be in a while, crepes with coffee ice cream and cookie crumble. Happy New Year everyone!

The Three Little Kittens

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No rants tonight, no complaints, just some words about my “Three Little Kittens”. There are many days when I really have no idea what I’m going to do for an art project. Then there are those days when something just pops out at me. Today it was Riley, our cat, rather a photo of Riley that I took a week or two ago. Riley is a tabby cat, and I have to say with no prejudice what so ever, the cutest cat I’ve ever seen. We have two others, and lost Spouncer our older cat a few years ago, but none are a cute as Riley. Contrary to what people say about cats, ours are not standoffish. Mia, who is our three-year old makes an appearance nightly, announcing herself in a loud mew that she is ready to be petted by me. It doesn’t matter if I am busy, she jumps in my lap and remains there while I pet her until she has decided she has had enough and leaves. If I dare stop petting before she gives leave I get a few mews, sometimes a little bite, (to remind me that I’m not doing my job) or she begins the process of petting herself by head butting me. Sophie, our most recent addition only likes to be held by the men in the family. She favors being held up in the air. It’s a very funny and strange thing. Riley is our oldest, she will be fourteen in March, and loves nothing more than to be with us. She follows me from room to room, but if Dan is seated she is in his lap. She sits there every morning as he reads the paper which is where I took the photo that I sketched from this evening. The drawing is pencil with the exception of her eyes which I tinted green with pastel chalk. I love cats, I love quiet and they fit right in with that, except when Mia decides to chase Riley across our bed in the middle of the night, then it’s not so quiet and they aren’t so cute.12 20

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One of Riley’s cutest…May 2011 020

The lovely Mia…April 2012 (3)

our little Sophie.DSC05702And our beautiful Spouncer.

 

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)

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

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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

The Upside

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Despite what I wrote last night the day wasn’t all bad on Saturday. It was just that I worked so hard preparing for the show, and on my poem, and well, I thought I was so clever that I couldn’t resist using it. Now for the upside. Yesterday was lousy, but I did sit outside all day on a beautiful afternoon with Dan, we did enjoy our favorite pastime, which is making fun of the general public, and we met Isabella. Isabella is a beautiful young girl who was at the show with her parents who also had a booth. Shortly after I set up Isabella came over to our tables. She was enchanted by my fairies, and couldn’t decide which she liked best. Several times throughout the day she came over to play with the fairies, or drag one of her parents over to see them. Eventually she wore her father down. They came over together to choose a fairy. Isabella was beyond excited, and would pick one, then quickly change her mind and choose another. I had mentioned to her earlier in the day that I had created a “Katniss” ornament for my daughter. (For those if you who are out of touch with the universe, Katniss is the character in The Hunger Games) I had a photo of the ornament and showed it to her. That was it, that was the one. Her dad asked if she was sure that she wanted to wait for me to send an ornament rather than buy one that was already on the table. She was very definite about what she wanted. In the photo of Katniss I showed her the ornament was holding a bow, but no arrows. Isabella requested that I not permanently attach the bow, and could I make arrows? Oh, and since the fairies only have eyes could I add a smile? She was so sweet, and then she looked at me shyly and said, ” I still like to play with dolls, especially little ones, I know I’m too old.” I asked her how old she was and she said she was twelve. I said, “Honey, you aren’t too old to play with dolls. My daughter was older when she gave up her Barbie.” She broke into a huge grin. In this day when most kids are nothing more than miniature adults it was so refreshing to see a little girl who was still a little girl. It made my day.  At the end of the show Isabella’s mom came over to tell me how much her daughter loved my things. I told her how sweet I thought her daughter was.  Isabella came over to say goodbye to me before they left. Today I made Isabella’s ornament, including her bow, and arrows and a quiver to keep them in. That wasn’t enough. I want to encourage the imagination of any child that wants to be a child. She said she likes to play with little things, so I’m going to surprise her. When I mail her Katniss in the morning, Katniss will have a friend, her name is Isabella. I made a little doll the size of fairy that resembles Isabella. Of course since Katniss has a bow, arrows and a quiver, Isabella needs them as well, I mean if they’re going to play together… I know I whined and complained about my day, but there really was a wonderful bright light in my day, her name was Isabella.

Tonight a slightly askew watercolor of some flat ware. I was working and watching a movie at the same time so my perspective might just be off a little (any excuse, we know its my nemesis. Damn you evil perspective!) Its been weeks since I sat down and just relaxed. It is a difficult concept for me. I’m not totally unhappy with the results, but it did feel good just to be back working on my project once again.IMG_3112

And just in case you were interested in seeing them, Katniss and Isabella.IMG_3114

A Passenger’s View

It may seem at times that I focus on the negative. That isn’t really true. I will admit to some dark days as of late. I thought a lot about it this morning. When I started this blog last April I had no idea that my life would take such a dramatic turn. I find myself using these pages not only as a place to express my artistic struggles, but also the unintended recipient of my frustrations, worries, and life struggles as well.  I have a deep appreciation for the good things in my life. Sometimes it may not seem that way, but trust me I do.

I also take time every day to look at the world around me and breathe in the details. Every morning as I go outside to pick up our newspapers I stop to listen the silence of the morning. I also look to see what’s happening with the sky, and am known to often run inside to grab the camera to take a few sunrise shots. I mentioned the other day that I look at clouds with a painter’s eye. I actually do that with most everything. I am nearly always a passenger. I didn’t learn to drive until I was twenty-six, and in the twenty-four and a half years I have been married to Dan, I rarely drive. He likes to drive, I hate it. A necessity of life, my life, that I don’t enjoy. The benefit of always being the passenger is that you get a better look at the world. I often complained that I wish I had my camera, visualizing a painting as I looked at neighborhood streets,and then losing the mental picture by the time I got home. That problem is solved now with my phone. Back in September I used one of those photos as inspiration for a painting for this project. I pay attention to every detail. Every color, every cloud, every face that I see. I don’t want to miss a thing, because you never know when you will see something beautiful, when you will find inspiration, or discover some little place you never realized was there. There are definitely problems in my life, but I never for a second stop looking and being grateful the world and the people around me. This morning when I went outside I stood looking at a tree across the street, enjoying the simplicity of the tree against the morning sky. I have been buried in fairies as of late and today was no different. I haven’t taken the time to sit and paint, but today I thought a lot about that by beautiful tree. A simple watercolor of this mornings moment with nature. I will also pat myself on the back just a little for my inventiveness. (By the way, I take back the “my font looks good” remark of last night. My eyes are betraying me horribly) Two things that I created today made me happy. It really was true about the hot air balloon of yesterday. They float over my house regularly in the early morning. They take off from the vineyards. My show this coming Saturday will be here in town. Two things are very popular in Temecula, wine and hot air balloons. I made the wine fairies last week. I needed a hot air balloon. After several failed experiments I believe I’ve come up with one I like. The second was a special request for an ornament for a friend’s son. The little boy likes penguins. I didn’t have one, so I made one. Somehow life doesn’t seem so bad when I’m making penguins.12 8 (1)

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Has Anyone Seen My…?

Maybe it has to do with all the balls I’m juggling in the air these days, but I seem to be losing my mind just a wee bit. For example, twice in the last week I have gone in search of my glasses only to find them attached to my body. I hang them on the front of my shirt, I’ve done so for years, yet somehow these days that little fact seems to be slipping my mind. I do have a very long history of losing my car, and I mean losing it everywhere. Church, the grocery store, the mall, so much in fact that I now have particular spots that I use just so I know where to look. A while back I wandered aimlessly through a store lot searching for my pickup. I was just about convinced it had been stolen. I had been looking for a good ten minutes. I finally called Dan, who after he stopped laughing, reminded me that I had driven his car. Which by the way I had walked past at least three times in the search for my own vehicle. I’m obviously not a stupid woman. Look what I can do. I also solve the New York Times crossword puzzle every morning. I’d say I have about a seventy-five percent average on finishing it alone, seventy-six to one hundred if I bug the crap out of Dan. So obviously I remember some things. He was making fun of my latest glasses mishap today, referring to me as the absent-minded professor. I am of course getting older, and I have a lot on my mind, but I’m beginning to wonder if some glitter hasn’t made its way into my brain. Or maybe it has to do that as an older woman I have learned to prioritize what matters to me, pushing little details to the side. (That sounds good doesn’t it?) I can still tell the men in my life, Dan and Brian, where every single thing they can’t find in this house is at. It seems that my bad memory only has to do with myself. That would make sense since I usually put myself last. So to sum it all up, I’m forgetting things because:

A.  I am trying to do too much

B.  I am absentminded

C. I have glitter on my brain

D. I’m older

E. I put myself last

F. All of the above?

Actually I have decided that it because for the first time in my life I am devoting every waking moment to creativity. My house is falling down around me, and right now I don’t really care. I am motivated and determined, and have had in recent weeks some new-found confidence in my work. The things that are important to me are always on my mind. My family, my kids, and most of all Dan, but for the first time in my life I’m beginning to see the glimmer of a dream for myself, and if that means I lose a few things along the way…well, except I really do need those glasses.

For tonight a little “upcycling”. A vintage box that I found in OK shape. I’m giving it a touch of nostalgia. One of my photos from Paris changed to black and white and then computer colorized, decoupaged to the top. Inside copies of some of my collection of vintage French postcards, and a small mirror. I have a few finishing touches to complete, but the glue on the mirror needs to dry so those will wait until tomorrow.  I’m pretty happy with the finished product.IMG_2729

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