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One Man’s Trash

Some time ago on this blog I wrote about my Dad and myself and how we “saved” things. I referred to us by the name my Mom gave us which was Sanford and Daughter. This morning I was watching CBS Sunday Morning, the news and human interest story program. On one of the segments there was a piece about hoarders, it is now a diagnosed mental disorder. I didn’t even have to turn my head, I knew Dan was smiling behind the newspaper, particularly when it came to the woman who saves the metal holder off the top of Chinese takeout containers because, “You’ll never know what you can use them for.” Famous last words. Words I have spoken so much, much more than you can imagine. My “Artistic Fridge” that I am in the process of cleaning out is filled with lots and lots of  “I can use this for something” fragments. In my defense I actually do use some of these pieces from time to time, but I will admit there are probably more pieces than I will ever get to. People with this disorder have anxiety when separating from their things. It apparently runs in families. Funny since I referred to my daughter as “Sanford and Granddaughter”only yesterday . It made me sad to see how difficult it was for some of the people on the show, but also made me realize that maybe I really need to look at all the stuff, the fragments, the pieces of things I have kept. I certainly think I may have just a touch of this disorder, or harkening back to another post about Myra and Emma (the ladies who rewarded us neighborhood children with candy for picking up trash), it may just be that I can’t stand to see waste, or see something perfectly usable end up in a landfill. Could it possibly be The Boxcar Children? The books by Gertrude Chandler Warner that so enthralled me as a child? All that said, I’m ninety percent finished with the first of my window projects. An old window, scrap plywood, left over fabric, and vintage hooks. In other words, garbage. Bits and pieces given new life in something quite useful and pretty.

I’ve again leaned the window against a mirror for the center. There are three small hooks on the bottom for hanging jewelry or keys, and one larger hook on the side.Tomorrow we attempt to cut the mirror once again.2 23 14 (2)

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Superstitious

I’ve never been to see a psychic. I’d like to say it’s because I don’t believe in psychics, but the truth is that I’m not sure if I believe in them, and I know myself. I have a very active imagination, and as I have mentioned more than once in past posts, I’m Irish. (If you happened to have not read it, it means glass not full, nor empty, because the glass is shattered on the floor.) I’ve always been afraid that if I heard something that wasn’t good I’d obsess. (I’m also phenomenally good at obsessing.) It would rule my life, no matter how much I would try to convince myself that it was nonsense there would be that little corner of my mind that would poke its nasty self into my every waking moment. It’s much the same with superstition. We’ve had a rough year, and the disappointments, bad luck, and struggles continue and seem to have no end. (Dan does have a promising job interview on Tuesday, but I’m honestly afraid to be hopeful.) In the last few days I’ve been writing about the never-ending window projects. I left them alone yesterday, I needed a break. Today with fresh eyes I went back to work on one of them. This would be the larger of the two that I intend to turn into sort of a jewelry/mirror/memo center. A place where you can check hair or makeup, choose your necklace, and read your to do list before you have to run out the door. I coated four of the triangular shapes with magnetic paint, and then on top of that a few coats of chalkboard paint. The two side panels will allow for tucked in memos, I plan on covering them tomorrow and adding ribbon detail, and finally the center, which will become a mirror. Except this, I bought a door mirror to cut to fit the center. I’ve never cut glass. I watched a YouTube video which of course made me an instant expert.  I broke a piece off. Seven years bad luck. Then Dan came in. He has cut glass, successfully, but not this time. Four breaks. So basically right now we are looking at another thirty-five years of bad luck. (Openly groveling for all reading this to wish me good karma.) Do I believe in the superstition of seven years of bad luck for a broken mirror? Seven years times five? Not to mention we have to try again tomorrow!!! I’d like to say no…but there is that nasty little corner of my mind….

So here is what’s happening so far…IMG_5625

I leaned the window against a mirror in my guest room. (Notice the magnet) Still much to do, but I think you get the idea…

…to be continued.

Taking A Break

I took most of the day off today. I’ve been working on those windows for days, and honestly my hands are a little raw, not to mention all the sawdust in my nose and in my hair. I’m just tired, and at this point getting a little less enthusiastic about the amount of work it is taking to get them where I want them to be. So while I didn’t actually take the day off (because I never really do), I did need to leave those projects be for a day. I spent more time creating in my other studio, my kitchen. I made not one, but two dinners, both were penne with chicken and Alfredo sauce. One was for Dan, myself and our friend Lori, the other was for Brian. He stopped home today, and is typical for a newly moved out “bachelor”, he hadn’t eaten. We fed him lunch, and then I sent him home with dinner for himself and his two roommates. i also whipped up some homemade thousand island dressing and croutons for our salads, and molten chocolate cakes for dessert.

As far as an art project for this evening, just a little doodle while sitting in front of the television. It’s actually again something we may use in our business. I’ll attack the windows in the morning with fresh perspective.image

Just Ask Me

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The window saga continues. I won’t bore you with the details…until tomorrow.

My work of art tonight is a gift for a friend, and while the subject of my blog tonight is about asking, my friend didn’t ask for this gift. I love to do things for people. I truly enjoy giving of my talents to others. As I told Dan earlier this evening, if I weren’t me, but knew me, I’d ask me to do things for me. Got that? I have many talents and am more than happy to make, or paint, or draw, anything for those I care about. Several months ago I created a piece of altered art that I recently brought out to hang in my hallway. Theresa was here and saw it, and admired it greatly. I had made this particular piece on a board that we had left over from a project years ago. I had another nearly identical piece of the same wood. I sent her a message today asking which bible verse it was that she liked. Proverbs 3:5-6. Using a photograph of a small statue I have in my bedroom as my angel, and some photos of Calla Lilies taken in a graveyard in Richmond, I created “Deum benedicite”, “God bless” in Latin. In several areas I secured the pieces so that it is three-dimensional. There are stenciled areas in copper, silver, and gold. The proverb is printed on vellum, which when sprayed with polyurethane becomes almost translucent.

In these last trying months of our life, Dan and I have been blessed to have much love and support from our friends and family. In time I plan to do a little something for all to show our appreciation. Theresa has been the sister that I don’t have here in California, as mine are in Chicago. Her family is like my family. Just the first of many, many gifts to say, “Thank you.”2 19 14

Labors Of Love

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The windows, or should I say the window? Don’t ask. I have now spent days and days on it. I’m not done. I think it will be beautiful when I’m finished (apparently sometime around the end of eternity), but as I said last night, I can never charge enough to make up for time and effort. I think at this point I’m earning about maybe a dollar an hour on this one. Dan labeled it a labor of love today, and I couldn’t agree more. I love what I do, and I love to see the work come to life. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be finished with it tomorrow.

For tonight, a labor of love of a different kind. I looked at the photos on my phone, and I found a lovely picture of my friend Gabby, who just celebrated her tenth birthday. Gabby is a beautiful and special girl, and it really was a pleasure to do this drawing. I need to tweak it just a little in the morning, it’s now ten thirty and my eyes have called it a night. I’m excited for Gabby to see her portrait, which of course means that a portrait of Kingston can’t be far behind. (You know, the brother-sister stuff, can’t do one and not the other.) IMG_5597

My Constant Companion

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Still in the process on the window projects. They are both turning into another of those pieces that I put far too much into with no hope of ever selling them and paying myself anything for my time.

I decided tonight to return to doing a little fine art for a project to post. A solitary figure in watercolor based on a rather out of focus photo of my son Brian’s performance as the town drunk in a high school production of “Our Time”. I think I was inspired by a conversation that Dan and I had earlier this evening. We talked about ourselves now that we are officially “empty nesters”, and are now alone. I had been talking to my Dad. He is eighty-one and living in an independent living home. It has been nearly seven years since my Mom died, and in those seven years my Dad has been desperately lonely. He made a few half-hearted attempts at seeing other women, but it never felt right to him. I call him every night, and have done so for the last seven years. I hate the idea of his loneliness. He is in Chicago and I am in California, the phone calls are the best way I can help him. He has often said that for him loneliness is the worst disease a person can have. I have to agree. I have spent a great deal of time alone in my life. The difference in my Dad and myself is that while he is a very social person, I am the opposite. I am a very solitary person, someone who enjoys quiet, and doesn’t mind being alone. I have always said that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. The truth is that I’m never really alone, I always have one companion, my art. I quit work twenty-four years ago to stay home and raise my children, and yes there have been times when I’ve been very, very lonely, but my salvation has always been my creativity. Without art, without creative expression, I think I might have lost my mind. I never really worked on my art, on the kind of art I wanted to do, but I used the gifts I have to do things for my children, to design my home, and to do the occasional craft show to contribute to our holiday spending. I’ll never regret spending the time with my kids (who are by the way, two pretty spectacular human beings), I do regret not giving myself a little love and attention along the way. I will always be grateful for the lifeline that kept me sane, gave me personal moments of joy, and I think gave my kids a rather special childhood. Art and creativity is so much a part of who I am, it’s been my place to hide, my place to express happiness, and my best friend when I had no friends. Now as I near the end of this year-long project I realize that I need to work a little harder to honor my companion, my talent, and continue to push myself to go far beyond this year, to realize my potential while I still can.2 17 14

Progress Report

I think I may have dodged the flu bullet. Feeling much better today.

It’s been ten months since I began to clean out my “artistic fridge”. I bet you’re wondering how that inventory is going. I’ve hardly made a dent. Sure I’ve done a project nearly every day, all 308 of them, but I still have a lot of stuff. (Some of which are finished projects, still dragging my behind on selling) I have more than you can possibly imagine. I not only fill my studio until it is busting at the seams, but also both our two car and our single car garage, projects in the garden, and on the side of the house. If I died tomorrow my children would be buried alongside me in mountains of “stuff”. Today I began an attempt to rectify that. I am working on not one, but three projects today. All of them involve upcycling, or recycling pieces that I have gathered along the way one. I began working on a really cool old window, and a small door that at one time had two glass panels, one is still intact, the other was missing when I got it. Finally a very small piece of wood that was in the garage. Too small to be of any real use, but those who know me well are familiar with the sound of “I can do something with that.”, coming out of my mouth. I just hate to throw away anything that can be used. Here’s the plan.

Window number one. I broke the last of the glass panels out. I used a putty knife to get rid of all the loose chipped paint. I then sanded, and sanded, and sanded, trying to get to the nooks and crannies. For this one I believe I will be turning it into a very useful mirror. A mirror in the large center panel, and for the side panels, some bulletin board type pieces covered in fabric, and some hooks on the bottom. I may have to add a piece for that. Something that can be used in a bathroom or bedroom. The hooks for hanging necklaces and such.

Small door project. Again with some kind of useful bottom, possibly one of those boards with the ribbons that allows for tucking mementos in. For the glass part of the door I ordered two of my photos from Paris in poster size today. They won’t be ready until tomorrow, but I will choose between the two to put under the glass.

My small piece of wood. As soon as I laid eyes on it I knew. I’ve been pinning vintage book covers on Pinterest. I painted a watercolor the other night loosely based on one. This piece is the perfect size to replicate one of the covers. You can see them on my board “Books By Any Cover”. Incredibly beautiful work. I spent another twenty minutes or so sanding this piece as well.

Only sanded beginnings to share tonight, so I’ll post one of my photos as well. A photo I took last year in San Diego, just a reminder to those of you still in the midst of winter’s grip that spring will be here eventually!IMG_5558

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My Valentine

There are some moments in life that you will hold on to forever. Meeting my soul mate, the love of my life was one of  them.

I will hold on to him and love him eternally.

He is my Valentine every day of the year, every minute of my life.

A day spent with the love of my life…my couch. Only kidding of course. I am so not enjoying the euphoria of impending flu, you know the “I feel like I was just hit by a truck” kind of feeling? I’ll be quick once again this evening because my Valentine is waiting for me on the couch to watch our favorite love story, “Midnight In Paris”.  As Dan said, it isn’t your typical romance movie, its more about falling in love with Paris. It is a feeling we are both familiar with because it happened to us.

For tonight a Valentine for my husband. The lyrics of our song, “What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life”, printed on a piece of vellum which I had already printed one of my dried flower photos on. It is sandwiched between two pieces of plexiglass with copper tape. I hope at some point to figure out soldering and add an attachment for hanging. I also posted a close up of a bit of the lyrics. It is a lovely song, one that suits us well.

Happy Valentine’s Day2 14 14

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Looking For Suggestions

Tonight I will be a woman of few words. The reason? A low-grade fever, dripping nose, (I know, too much information), sneezing, oh and I forgot to mention that my head weighs twice as much as it did when I woke this morning. Flu shot? Yes, I had one, and although many people I care about have had the flu in the last few weeks, I thought I dodged the bullet. I was wrong it just took longer to reach me. I still managed to get a little something done for this evening. A watercolor based on a vintage book cover. One of the things that Dan and I want to do in our business is embrace the community we live in. This piece is part of that. We want to involve the people who visit our store and make them feel like its their place as well as ours. As I mentioned last night I love children’s books. I plan on doing a little story telling, and I’m looking for suggestions of favorite stories.  If anyone has one I’d love to hear it.

For now I’m calling it a night.2 13 14

Little Gestures and Good Dreams

From time to time I mention some younger friends of mine, Emily who is five, Gabby who just turned ten, but there is one I haven’t mentioned, his name is Kingston. Kingston will be eight next Sunday. He is a very smart, athletic little boy, but he also has a problem with bad dreams. One of the things I did for my own kids when they had bad dreams was to create a “Dream Pillow”. Created from muslin and filled with good smelling ingredients, and a hand painted cover, I convinced them that as long as the pillow was in the bed that they would have good dreams. As an extra measure I shook a little Lily of the Valley dusting powder at their feet, although to them it was “Fairy Dust”. I made Emily a pillow last year and passed the fairy dust on to her, but Gabby and Kingston’s Mom is no longer alive. They have no one to sprinkle fairy dust. I plan on making them both a pillow, but as of late Kingston is having some bad dreams about dinosaurs. I tried to convince him that it isn’t at all possible for a dinosaur to get him, but he is by nature a worrier. I will see Gabby and Kingston tomorrow for our regular standing Tuesday and Thursday breakfast dates. For my piece of art this evening I decided to create something to ease Kingston’s mind. A drawing that strays a little from the norm for me, more children’s illustration, storybook style. I thought that maybe if the last thing Kingston saw at night was a picture of himself wrangling a dinosaur he might feel a little more brave in his dreams. If there is one rule in life I believe in, it’s that anything you can do to make someone else have a better day, or in his case, a better night, you should do it.

Kingston and “friend” in watercolor.2 10 14