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Living A Better Life

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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.IMG_1474

Turbulent Sketching

I’ve survived the flight! Actually two flights since we had an hour plus layover in Phoenix. I was up a half hour before the alarm this morning. I don’t believe it was preflight jitters, I’m one of those odd people who don’t need an alarm. If I know that I have to be up to go somewhere, I’m up with time to spare. The flights themselves were uneventful, although there was just a bit of turbulence. I took my xanax, grabbed a sketch pad and relaxed for the flights.The only real issue I came across was the inconsiderate behavior of one of my seat mates. I admit it, I freakishly like the middle seat on the plane. (I guess so that I’ll somehow be cushioned in the fall from the sky). Dan was on the aisle, and this very tiny woman came on board after us and took the window seat. Small woman, big space hog. For the next two and a half hours I was elbowed, hit in the back of the head, and had her stuff pushed on top of my feet. To make matters worse, when we exited the plane I went into the lady’s room, the tiny one came in right after me. As we waited for an open stall she gushed about what a gentleman my husband is because he helped her with her bags both getting on and off the plane, and then she cut in front of me in line. I was about to say something, but remembered my vow not to get mad, so I didn’t. Do I feel better for not saying anything? Not at the moment. But I’m sure I’ll move on….in about a year or until someone else aggravates me.

I had planned to do a watercolor on the plane, but I found myself instead drawing Maddie, she is a very dear girl, and getting prettier everyday.  I’m not quite finished, I need to look closer at the photo in better light. That I will do tomorrow. But not bad on Xanax and turbulence.image

Quitting While I’m Ahead

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No, I’m not quitting my blog, or abandoning my project. What I am referring to is my project tonight. I wrestled with the devil, by that of course I mean perspective, and I caved. I am in the midst of planning a birthday gift for my Dad’s eighty-first birthday, which is a week from Thursday. It involves many photos of his favorite subject, which happens to be him. I feel slightly guilty making fun of him since he isn’t feeling well, but he has a great sense of humor, and I kid because I love, and he loves…himself…I really can’t help myself. I’ve mentioned the Natalie story (for those of you who may be unaware, short story is I look like my Dad, so I look like Natalie Wood. His idea, not mine). If you are as old as me, or have studied ancient history, you know that at one time in the history of man telephones were attached to walls, and had cords…gasp!  Imagine being a teenager and wanting to talk to your boyfriend, you would stretch that curly cord until it was a straight as possible as you pulled it taut to get around a corner, out of parental earshot. My Dad pulled it tight as well, not so that we couldn’t hear him, but so that he could look at himself in the bathroom mirror as he talked. We of course, being the family of merciless critics that we are, made fun of him for it. He didn’t even try to deny it. He would just get a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Back to our regularly scheduled project…my painting for this evening. As I was looking at all the old family photos on my computer I came across one of my Mom that I love. In 1957 my Mom and Dad were married in Toronto, Canada, and had their honeymoon at Niagara Falls. It was really beautiful then, of course the Falls still are, but the area around them hadn’t yet been developed by Ripley’s Believe It Or Not, and Madame Tussaud’s, and the endless souvenir and t-shirt shops. In this particular photo my Mom, who never had a shred a of confidence looks like the coolest chick around. She was really cute. My Dad, not so much at the time. He grew into a handsome Clint Eastwood look a like later in life when he actually gained a little weight. I told my Mother that she was way too cute for him, thankfully she didn’t share my opinion or I obviously wouldn’t be here. I’ve never been the “cool chick”, I was the clumsy chick, the nerdy chick, the artistic weirdo (my Dad, once again), I was never a cheerleader, or a sorority girl, I was just me, always striving to Never be like anyone else. Being an individual is important to me and always has been. My Mom looks like she could be Rizzo from Grease in this photo, or at the least one of the Pink Ladies. I never saw her that way, I saw a lonely, very wounded woman. I like looking at this picture of her and thinking about a time in her life when she felt empowered, or at the very least that she thought she looked really cool.

In high school one of my artistic classmates did a painting of herself and her little brother using only shades of gray, with the exception of a fish, the fish was painted green. I loved it, still do when I think about it. I always wanted to do a painting in those shades, I think hers was oil, mine is watercolor. It was a little more difficult with my watercolors, but it captures the essence of my Mom.  Where I quit was the background. I mapped it all out, sketched it in, it was an elaborate cement rail with pillars, and I screwed it up again! Watercolor isn’t always the most forgiving medium, had it been oil or acrylic I could have fixed it, so I quit while I was ahead. I liked the way the figure looked, and quite frankly was afraid I would ruin the painting. Perspective-1, Me-0. It doesn’t mean I’m giving up the fight, just the round.9 1

A Worried Mind

Tonight was a struggle. I started and tossed aside several drawings, unable to find my artistic mojo. I spent the day on the phone with my sisters, our Dad is still having issues from the fall he had last month, in the last twenty-four hours he has been struggling with a great deal of confusion. In the end we discovered that he was suffering from several of the side effects from a new medication. I find myself again feeling frustration, guilt, and a tremendous amount of worry. It is frustrating not being near when my Dad is not well, and as I have mentioned previously my sisters are carrying a heavy load, I feel terrible that I am not there to help. When we made the decision to move to California we didn’t imagine what the future would and could hold. All of that worry got in the way of my creativity. As the evening wore on I tried several ideas, what I ended up with was a simple line drawing of a pot of flowers, and another quite small recycling project. Several weeks ago I had purchased some goat Brie cheese in a circular wooden container. When we were through I kept the container, it’s a bad habit of mine, again with the “I’ll do something with it” notion in the back of my head. As I was putting my pen away I saw the container, which is circular, and thought, “Man in the Moon”. I scanned it into my computer and added a few effects. Not sure what I’ll do with it, but it was fun and took my mind off things for a bit. My second passion, which is cooking, comes easy to me and relaxes me, so a photo of a small plate that we snacked on this evening.  Homemade pesto, peperonata, and sun-dried tomato pesto, with a goat/cream cheese mixture and some crostini. Delicious! Hopefully my Dad will be more himself tomorrow, and I can get back to work.8 31 (1)

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My Head Is In The Clouds

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8 30 13 (14)Here we go again, but when you see the photographs I took today you won’t blame me in the least. I actually took more than one hundred (although I will only post a few), and to tell you how wonderful my husband is, Dan drove me around to find the best shots. I did thank him for his support of the Arts. Incredibly I was here in Temecula taking photos of the sky outside the library when I received a text from my sister, Colleen, outside of Chicago, it was actually a couple of photos…of a beautiful sky. Although in her case it was the beginning of a bad storm. Colleen and I are only fifteen months apart in age (good Irish Catholic parents), we have been called Irish twins, we are also the two middle children, so I think we somehow ended up on the same wave length. Later in the evening they had a spectacular sunset so she sent me a photo of that as well.

I wasn’t completely happy with my painting last night. I rushed once again, when what I should have done was just laid the groundwork. That’s what I’m doing tonight. I did a pencil sketch of a painting that I want to do, based on one of the photos from today. I had mentioned a couple of months ago that I realized that I didn’t need to get a piece fully completed every day, the purpose of this project is just to create every day. I seem to be fine doing that with non-painting projects, but with most of my paintings I am still struggling to find the patience that I need to build things slowly. That has to be my focus from now on or I won’t like anything I do. I also felt like my style was improving, and last night the work seemed too “old school” me. I am going to let that painting sit for a few days and take a second look at it. For once the feelings I’m having aren’t about not being good enough, but rather feeling disappointed that I didn’t see the growth in that piece that I’ve seen in others. But I guess that realization is growth enough in itself.

And now for a few photos from today.8 30 13 (132)

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Daring To Dream

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Aside from my artistic aspirations I have always had another dream, and that is to go into business. I don’t think when I was younger I knew what kind of business I wanted, I just knew that I wanted one. I also always swore it would be by the time I was forty. Well, if you haven’t figured it out by now, forty has come and gone. I am unfortunately one of those people who let far too much of their life pass by without believing in them-self enough to achieve their dreams. Actually, there was quite a bit of time when I didn’t even have one. The time has come. I finally have enough faith in myself to dare to think about what I want for me. I have had more than a few moments of deep sadness about the past, but regrets don’t move you forward, they only dig the hole deeper. What makes my dream even more attainable is that I will be doing it with Dan at my side. We work amazingly well together. More than a few other people have commented on that, particularly my Dad. The last time he visited I mentioned again my dream of opening a place, and he was incredibly supportive. He told me that he believes in me, in us, that he has seen what Dan and I can do together. He is right. We have a very warm and welcoming home, and are embarking on bringing that atmosphere to a business of our own. I can’t say yet what it is, the people closest to us know, call me suspicious, but until things are a little more secure I don’t want to reveal too much. Dan is still without a job, and we both think that all signs are pointing to this being the time for us. It’s risky, we are nervous, there are a few non-believers who think we are crazy, but I believe in us, it actually goes beyond belief, I know we can do it and do it well. Between us we have quite a skill set, there is nothing to stand in our way but us. We are ready to start our future.

All of the above being said, I intend to follow through on my blog, on my art. Over the next few weeks I may be producing pieces of art that will serve a dual purpose, they will be for both this project and our business. Today I revisited Jessica for only a minute, I literally had to force myself to step away. I was thisclose to muddying up her face. I have work to do on it, but I need to gather all of my patience and wait. I pulled myself away and began to work on not one, but three projects. All of them involve the reuse of old materials…that’s right! The recycler is back. Two of Theresa’s old kitchen cabinet doors, serving two very different purposes, not enough to bother posting tonight, you’ll have to wait for those until tomorrow. The other is a piece of scrap wood from our garage. I decided I wanted to wood-burn our upcoming business logo on it and turn it into a sign. Alas, I can’t find my wood burner! Me of the extremely organized studio. I’ve looked everywhere (well, obviously not everywhere or I would have it), so I sketched the design in pencil, and then beat the crap out of two inexpensive ballpoint pens carving the design into the wood. When the wood burner comes out of the witness protection program (I burned myself last time, and have no doubt I will again), I will burn the design in. It isn’t finished. If you’ve ever been insane enough to carve wood with a pen you will understand how much my hand is hurting. I’m quitting for the night, will finish tomorrow, and all will be well with the world, unless of course the wood burner makes an appearance, and then it’s a whole new ball game.

Work in progress…to be continued.8 22

Nothing But Trouble (In A Good Way)

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I had a very special project in mind for today, a birthday gift for my new son-in-law. I don’t normally like to paint animals, I guess that has more to do with my perfectionism than anything else. With all the hair there aren’t definitive lines. If you were to look back at my blog and its accompanying artwork, you would see that one of the worst pieces I posted was of my own cat, Mia. Mia is white with caramel and black swirls. I made two attempts at that drawing and never felt successful. I did much better with Riley, she is a dark striped tabby which was much easier to sketch. John and my daughter, Jessica have a mischievous puggle by the name of Otis. They also have a cat whose name is Dexter. Poor Dexter lives in the bathroom sink, the only spot where Otis can’t reach him. Otis is roughly the size of a bag of sugar, but packed solid, and rules the house. He runs continually, like a spastic toddler let loose in a candy store. Fond of walks on the beach, stealing and eating intimate garments, and terrorizing Dexter. We joined them for dinner one evening at their apartment, as we were eating I looked down to see Otis chewing a piece of Double Bubble still in the wrapper. The little devil had gone in my purse and helped himself. Jessica spent the next five minutes chasing Otis around their coffee table trying to take it away from him. He finally swallowed it. Five minutes later I caught him pulling the bag of gum out of my purse. Roughly fifteen pounds of solid amusement and trouble. You can’t help but laugh as he runs circles around their one bedroom apartment. I wasn’t sure what to get John for his birthday since money is tight, but decided to give him a painting of Otis. I waited until this morning to paint it, because I didn’t want to post the painting prior to giving it to John. Happy Birthday John (a few days late), thanks for making Jessica so happy.

Otis in all his glory, in watercolor8 17

Don’t Drink And Draw

My wonderful husband was reading last night’s blog this morning and sneaking glances at me. Why? Because last night’s self-portrait was way off the mark. I am hereby instituting new self-imposed rules for my project.

1. When there is so little light that you can barely see you might want to reconsider drawing.

2. Don’t draw and try to watch one of your favorite television shows at the same time. (I couldn’t help myself, the Newsroom is so good)

3. Two glasses of wine and self-portrait drawing don’t mix. I admit it, I’m a total lightweight.

4. Mixing all of the above activities might cause you to look at your work from the night before and say, “WHAT?”

My first attempt at drawing me. I never liked the idea of the self-portrait, I really think it has to do with the teeth issue, but I went for it. I guess I figured any self-respecting artist does it sooner or later. Dan said all he could do while looking at it was look at me. He wasn’t getting it, and justifiably so. I set about correcting the drawing and quite frankly, it was one of the hardest drawings I’ve done. I couldn’t get my own nose right, much less the fractured tooth. It took me hours, meanwhile subjecting Dan to countless critiques. “Is it right yet?”, “How about now?”, “Is this it?”, you get the idea. I think maybe there is a reason I always see portraits of artists looking in mirrors to draw themselves. You see yourself differently in a mirror than you do in a photograph. It was torture. I’m done, I’m really glad I’m done, and we won’t be seeing another for any time in the near future.

Aside from hating my face for most of the day, I actually did finish one project that was long overdue, made another invite for my special four-year old friend, Emily, and started another painting. Amazing! For tonight the real me (I think, and if you know me and see a problem with the sketch, please don’t tell me for at least a week), Emily’s invite, the beginnings of a painting of an Angel’s Trumpet, and Theresa’s (she of the pear fame) finished gift.8 128 12 18 12 2IMG_0681

Hello, It’s Me

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OK, I figured it was time to bite the bullet, the self-portrait bullet. I’ve never actually done one. I did of course earlier in this blog do a kindergarten portrait, but I’ve obviously changed quite a bit since then. It’s getting late (what else is new?), so I will have to finish tomorrow. I actually did do art work during the day today, I have several projects that aren’t finished, actually too many, and decided to spend some time on finishing work. I didn’t begin the portrait until after seven tonight. The most troublesome spot in my portrait is my mouth. I have already mentioned my Osmond sized teeth, but what I failed to mention is the chip right in the front. Many, many (too many to mention) years ago, I in all my gracefulness was walking up the sidewalk tossing a ball in the air, my sister, Marion was sitting on the ground putting ants in a jar. Why? I have no idea. Anyway, I didn’t see her, fell right over her and landed on my mouth. Saved my parents a fortune in braces in a single fall. Prior to that I looked like a could have been David Letterman’s long-lost cousin. A few years ago when I moved here to California, more than one dentist spoke at length to me about how they could “fix” my teeth. I wasn’t interested in changing them. I didn’t grow up in the perfection obsessed culture that exists today. I feel for all the young girls who are daily assaulted with altered images of perfect models. We all know that I have my not good enough issues, but I like my teeth. (Well OK, the Osmond size is just a little disturbing)  I don’t love everything about myself, both physical, and there is that steel rod of self-righteousness that runs up my spine, but that doesn’t prevent me from loving myself. I think that age has a lot to do with my attitude. After a while a lot of the nonsense just doesn’t matter any more. I am who I am, although there is that twenty pounds I want to lose…

In my not quite finished glory, me, in pencil from a photo taken about two years ago.8 11

Learning From Myself

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I had a moment of self-realization this morning. It occurred while I was on my stationary bike and glanced down at my exercise clothes. My black yoga pants are covered in paint splotches. Actually you’d be hard pressed to find a pair of jeans in my closet without at least a single spot of color, and then there is my big fluffy Pottery Barn robe that Dan gave me for Christmas a few years ago, that’s right, a nice big smattering of black paint right in the front of the robe. Then there are the countless shirts I’ve ruined, now labeled “paint shirts” because I can’t bear to throw them out because I like them so much. Why do I do this? Because when the mood strikes I go with it. It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing, or what time it is, if I feel the need to paint, I just do it. This is the reason why I also own a number of paint stained nightgowns. (Very sexy I assure you) On countless occasions Dan has given me a piece of clothing with the warning, “I don’t want to see any paint on this.” Oops! I can’t help myself. I know, that is a lame excuse for what amounts to a little laziness. The truth is I’m not lazy in the least. I can barely sit still. I just get inside my creative brain and lose focus. Clothing doesn’t seem important. I have to admit clothing is not important to me unless I am going somewhere special. I pretty much spend my life in jeans and a shirt. Not that I don’t look nice. I always want Dan to think I look attractive. I am also my mother’s daughter. I don’t leave this house without full hair and makeup. I don’t own a pair of sweat pants, and will never own a pair of sweat pants. I feel that sweat pants are unnecessary to the universe. No one looks good in them, Brad Pitt and his significant other, Angelina, wouldn’t look good in sweat pants, and when you add a slogan across your ass, well, I have no words….OK, enough about that, my point is that when I feel a creative surge, I need to answer the call, despite the white slip covered couch I’m sitting on. I know, long rant, long explanation, possibly TMI, back to the self-realization. I have spoken at length about my struggle with perfectionism in my work. I apparently do not have this need for perfection in what I am wearing while I work, or to be honest, how I work. As rare as a California tornado would be, you might think one had happened by the time I finish working. It’s a mess! A giant mess, including me. Paint on my face, occasionally in my hair, all over my hands, and yes my clothes. With all of that indifference one might think that my work would come with that same sort carefree attitude, but it doesn’t. I will admit that I am letting go of a little of that, but I think before I work I need to pay a visit to my closet and take my cue from my poor paint splattered clothes, and make a mess on the canvas. I might just be surprised at the results.

For tonight, a not quite finished project. One of the best gifts in my life in the last year has been the addition of my new son-in-law, and of course John has family too. Among them some very adorable children, and since I have no grandchildren…hint, hint, no pressure…I was in search of something to draw, so I am borrowing some grandchildren. This is Keira. She isn’t quite finished, but I have a date tonight with my husband. I’ll be finishing Keira up tomorrow, and then begin working on a painting of one of her equally beautiful sisters.

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