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Daily Detours

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Despite my best efforts my daily life continues to get in the way of my art. I start each day with the best of intention, but there always seems to be things that get in the way. I had intended to continue work on my cabinet door project but never found the time to sit down and paint. I’m not complaining, I spent my day being quite productive from a two-hour hike this morning, a little house cleaning, and a wonderful afternoon baking and cooking with my nine-year old friend Gabby. We made banana muffins, and frozen fruit pops from a children’s cookbook I bought her for Christmas, made soup for my family and for my lovely Theresa who is very under the weather. There was also forty-five minutes on the phone with my eighty-one year old Dad, who was trying to explain to me how he wants me to make a house for two little figurines that I gave him years ago that resemble my children. I’m still not sure what he wants, but he is going to send them to me and I’ll come up with something. So here it is past seven in the evening and I am searching for a project. I did start a watercolor painting, at least the rough sketch, but it is a gift for someone so I can’t use it until Friday because it’s a surprise. I do have another small upcycling project in my bag of tricks, so that may be it for tonight…

Three hours later…I’m back with a finished??? project. I question the finished part because I’m not sure if I am happy or finished. It’s late, I dragged my feet on this one. Honestly, I didn’t feel like working tonight, but I made myself do it. I was afraid that I took one night off it would turn into two, or three. This project has given me so much, but I still struggle with the day-to-day of making time for art. I’m worried about giving up on myself. When this year is up I most likely won’t be writing every day, but I hope to be working every day.

Tonight a hat stand. An old wooden spindle, two pieces of craft wood, and some paint. I upholstered the top and trimmed it out. Not sure I like the trim, but it’s late, and I’m too tired to make decisions.IMG_3954

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All I Want For Christmas

Dear Santa, I have been a really good girl. This year for Christmas I would like a …break.

Last night I posted that I had pulled out of my show today due to weather. The predicted weather was 50 degrees with a ninety percent chance of rain. I woke this morning to a shining sun, and I kid you not, a hot air balloon sailing past my son’s bedroom window. Really? I couldn’t believe it. It sent me into a tailspin of self-pity and tears. I’ve been working so hard and was terribly upset about the weather forecast, that shining sun was more than I could handle. The sun managed to stay out long enough to make me miserable, and then the rain started. What does it say about my life that I’m upset by a shining sun? The torrential rain that began didn’t make me feel better. I felt bad for the people who were probably set up for the show and were drenched. I think maybe these days my emotions are a little too close to the edge. I’ve spent months having my hopes dashed. Every time I think something good is going to happen for us something goes wrong. I spend a lot of time convincing myself that there are so many people in the world worse off than us. It’s an interesting little mind game that I play on a regular basis. To be honest I am counting the days until this year is over. New beginnings, new year, and new attitude. Just what the doctor ordered. Now I just need to get past the next three weeks.

After that little rant of self pity…I am still a woman obsessed. I had another idea for my nephew’s apartment. I love dictionaries. Obviously because I love words. I wanted to create another art piece for John’s place and came up with the idea of using a word to do with his profession. I chose “gastronome”. It’s just a cool word. I painted a piece of wood white and set out to paint the definition. As always as I look at the almost finished product it is slanted and skewed just like my brain. This can be explained by a number of reasons, my arch nemesis perspective, my horrific eyesight, and probably the fact that I start these things at nine o’clock at night. What all of that means is that tomorrow I will be whiting out areas and redoing them. For tonight however what you see is what you get. I would like to point out that my hand painted font is pretty decent. Many years ago in a land with no home computers, I was a college student majoring in advertising. We went to an advertising show in downtown Chicago. At the show we were given sample font books. I gave mine to my daughter just a few years ago. There wasn’t a font in there I couldn’t copy free hand. Still can, just like a Xerox machine. A what??? If you are too young to know what that is Google it. For tomorrow it is predicted to be sunny, and I hope to have an outlook to match.12 7

You Do The Math

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Let me repeat myself. You do the math. Seriously, I need help. I mentioned last night that I was working on the grunt work of starting a few pieces. One of them is a game board, a checker board to be precise. What was I thinking? The board I’m working on is a wooden circular table top from the home improvement store. So in the same time-honored tradition of trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, I was trying to figure out where the center of the circle was in order to draw a square. Now as we have discussed in the past, I suck at math. Really, really, horribly suck at math. Yes, I can add, subtract, multiply and even divide, but that’s where I draw the line. I remember algebra and geometry, I still have nightmares, and I distinctly recall thinking, “Why are they making us learn this stuff? I will never need it. It serves no purpose in my life.” I was mistaken. I majored in interior design for a time. Something I have been passionate about as long as I can remember. Then I hit blueprint drawing. Yikes! I switched my major to graphic design and advertising. I never measure anything. So here is the circle sitting in front of me. How to find the middle? You put an album (remember those?) in the middle, eyeball it, sort of kind of measure around it, and trace the shape with a pencil. Sounds simple doesn’t it? Not so much. I spent about a half hour on one side, gave up, flipped it over and started over on the other side. Then came the division of the square into sixty-four evenly sized squares. Nine times. Again I repeat myself, nine times. I finally grabbed another tabletop I had done a few years back, one where I apparently still had some amount of brain function. I used some vellum paper, placed it over the existing checker board and marked the lines. Then after several minutes of professional eyeballing, I managed to finish it. This of course took way longer than I would have liked. My posted picture is a work in progress. I am liking it already. Finished piece tomorrow (promise!) As for the base, you are invited to the marriage of two oddball pieces tomorrow when all will be revealed. I’m not sure if you can tell, but I am again using some Martha Stewart Pearl paint. Beautiful on the unfinished wood. More math tomorrow. I have to figure out the center to attach the post. I think I feel a nightmare coming on…11 30

You Get What You Wait For

I’m waiting again. This time it’s not for someone, but for something. I’m trying a new technique, something I’ve been wanting to try for a while. It involves transferring a photo copy of a picture onto wood. I’m not even sure if it will work. The directions call for a laser printer, I have an ink jet. The wood used in the directions I found was unfinished, mine is painted. Finally, it is supposed to set for 24 hours. Who has that much time? I have to admit that there are a lot of places in my life where I am just plain scared, or completely intimidated. If you read my stuff regularly you also know that it is also an issue in my work, except for a couple of places, in those I’m fearless. One is in design. Give me a room to redo and I am a very happy girl. My passion for interior design goes back to my Barbie days. The other thing is craft projects. I can pretty much see it and do it. That being said, if I don’t follow the directions, or I rush things, or I don’t wait the recommended twenty-four hours…you get what you wait for. The photo is printed with the image reversed. Mod Podge is painted on the wood, and then the photo is pressed down using a Brayer, the back of a spoon, or in my case my finger. Wait twenty-four hours, dampen the photo and gently rub off the paper. The image should remain on the wood. My project didn’t turn out where I wanted it to be, but it turned out enough for me to see the possibility. Tomorrow I’ll try again. I won’t be posting the results until Saturday, twenty-four hours later! I’m posting as promised my warts and all projects. My failed project to follow. I do however have another little creature to post. Inspired by myself, a fairy artist.

The original photo. A sepia toned photo I took in Paris.IMG_2434

The second photo is when I wet the paper and the photo began to reveal itself. Notice the lower right corner, I had dampened the entire piece but when I began to rub the paper off I could see that it was too soon. Did I stop? Of course not. As you can see by the third photo, if I had actually waited the twenty-four hours it might have been really cool. Then again since I didn’t start with an unfinished piece, maybe not. Tomorrow I may actually follow the directions. What a novel idea.IMG_2435

IMG_2437Finally the one thing that did work out, my fairy. Here I had a little patience, and look what happens.IMG_2401

Finding The Right Words

There are many nights as I sit and write this blog where words fail me. I can’t quite think of exactly what I want to say, or exactly how to form the sentence to convey the point I’m trying to make. Eventually something comes to me, and for the most part I am happy with the outcome. Last night in my description of the glitter issues that confront my family I consulted a thesaurus looking for synonyms. I was trying to express just how defenseless we feel in the war against glitter. Tonight as Dan, Brian and I sat at the dinner table it became apparent that the glitter was already taking the upper hand. Each of us was sparkling. While that wasn’t surprising for either Dan or I, as we were both in the middle of the mix of my supplies all day in the dining room, but for Brian who had only passed through to be sparkling just proves my point. That’s when Brian came up with the words I was looking for last night. He called glitter the “herpes of craft supplies”. I couldn’t have said it better. I laughed at him and asked where he was last night when I needed him.

Dan as always is my extra pair of hands. He is doing all of what he calls the “grunt work”, but it is of immense help to me as I try to crank out as much work as possible. I  shouldn’t say “crank out”, I actually spend far too much time on each piece. When I stated last night that I don’t charge enough for my work I wasn’t exaggerating. I will fuss over the smallest detail, but I care so much about what I do that I can’t help myself. When it comes to pricing I agonize over it. I’m always sure that I’m charging too much…wait, not enough, but no one will pay that much, I wouldn’t pay that much, but it took me this (insert minutes) long, then there is “There’s always a kid with $5 , I need to have something they could buy”.  Years ago in Chicago I had my own business painting murals. My first clients lived a half hour drive from me. They wanted their “Hey, Diddle, Diddle” border reproduced on the nursery wall in a much larger scale. Get ready to groan, shake your head in disbelief, have your jaw hit the floor, I charged $250. That’s all. A week’s work, an hour drive daily, including supplies, for $250. Dan tried in vain to talk me into a price that was reasonable for the amount of work I was doing, while being fair to the clients. I couldn’t do it. As I explained to him, the wife was a social worker, and the husband worked at a grocery store. He tried to talk some sense into me, explaining that they hired me, that it wasn’t my problem what they could and couldn’t afford. I didn’t change the price. Apparently I have many issues, and much in the way of my favorite scapegoat, Catholic guilt.

We had other company in the dining room. Our cats are particularly happy. There are many small items for them to steal and bat around, or string to run off with. Mia loves it most of all, so much in fact that she likes to join us in the center of things, like the middle of the table, in the middle of my supplies.image

Tonight another upcycled project. One I like so much I may never sell it. An old box that I bought for a few dollars. Painted, decoupaged with one of my photos from France and some scrapbook memorabilia. Acrylic paint projects (12)

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IMG_2177But then again, I need the cash…now if I only knew what to price it at…

A Distant “Goodbye”

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As the day draws nearer to my Dad getting the keys to his new place, I find my mind returning to thoughts of he and my Mom. I won’t get a chance to say goodbye to their home. I live too far away, and well, if you regularly read my thoughts, you know that money is tight. Going home isn’t an option. Tonight as I prepare dinner it is just Dan and I. The kids are grown. Brian is still here, but as young men often do, he is out more than he is in. We are in the kitchen/family room together, Dan watching the television and reading, I am cooking, painting, and writing all at once. There is a comfortable silence wrapped around us, one that two people who know each other so well, and love each so much can be content in, like a well-loved blanket. From time to time one of us speaks. A comment from him, or me asking his opinion on the piece I am working on. Satisfied to just be with each other. It makes me think about my parents. I’m sure they had evenings like this in that house. I am also sure that since my Mother died my Dad has longed for those evenings. Life moves, and although all of us moving through it have emotion, there is no emotion in time. Even though Mom has been gone for six years, the finality of her house no longer there for me to return to makes me sad. In a way it is like losing her all over again. But again there is time. It is time for life to continue there, another family will move into that house, another family who knows nothing of us or who we were as a family will make new memories there. For them it will be a new place, for me it will be the last place my Mother lived. One thing I have learned, particularly in these last few years, is to value these moments, these quiet evenings, because they won’t always be here. Each of us will have those moments of great loss, remember to hold on while you can.

On a less melancholy note, I am just about finished with my clock/bookcase. I say “just about” because I need to cover the back of the door, but it is a detail that isn’t important for tonight, and I need to add one more piece of trim to a shelf. What I am thrilled about is how it has turned out. The vision in my head is complete. I have so often mentioned that I love to do things for children. This is one of those projects. I’ve written so many posts that I don’t recall if I have ever written this before, so please forgive me, but then again it was one of the greatest compliments of my life. My Mother told me that she wished I were her mother, because of all the things I loved to do for my children. I am me because of her. I want to do things for as many children as I can. I am so excited about this project because there isn’t a doubt in my mind that when children come to our shop and see the enchanting world inside the clock, they will love it. When I had finished the clock face I was happy with it. However, the inside of the cabinet was empty. What to do? I had in mind all along the “Hickory, Dickory, Dock rhyme in my head. Inspiration struck. Why not a secret mouse house in the clock? First floor, the garden. Second floor, the main house. What to do on the third floor? It came to me last night. A bookstore, just like the one I will be opening. The mice are made of Sculpy, and the rooms are full of things I found in the garden, or leftovers from other craft projects. There are a few things that I think every child needs: discipline,love, and imagination. I want to spark a little magic in their minds.IMG_2118

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Finally, tonight a piece of work that isn’t mine. My friend, Gabby asked me for an art lesson. I’ve mentioned Gabby before, she is nine. I have been asked to teach before, but never felt comfortable passing on my “I’ve never had lessons, have a million bad habits, don’t really know what I’m doing, flying by the seat of my pants” art. For Gabby I’ll make an exception. We did a lesson in watercolor. Gabby’s Waterlily.IMG_2087Gabby did a beautiful painting.

Almost There

A very short post tonight from a very tired woman. As I mentioned last night, I’m a worrier. For last night that meant not being able to sleep until after two thirty this morning, and when sleep finally did come it was short-lived. My neighbor decided to turn on his garden lights at five thirty. I was done sleeping after that, needless to say I am exhausted. I will post and head to bed.

I get a great deal of satisfaction when something that I have a vision for in my head becomes a reality. A few posts ago I wrote about a little antique cabinet that Dan gave me as a Christmas present. As I said then, from the moment I saw this cabinet I thought grandfather clock. Dan built a bookcase for me last week. I tried to match the stain for the bookcase to the stain on the old cabinet, but it just didn’t work. I gave some thought to painting the entire piece, but I really didn’t want to paint the cabinet. It is a beautiful piece, and I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. I left the project unfinished until today. I looked in our garage to see what we had on hand. I came across a can of a lighter brown paint. I had an idea that I wasn’t sure of but decided to give it a try. The problem with the unfinished wooden bookcase that Dan built was that the wood was different from that of the cabinet. By adding a light coat of paint to the cabinet, it allowed the wood to be sealed but still show the wood grain. I let the paint dry and then went over the entire piece with a dark wood stain. Amazing results. The wood of the bookcase is incredibly close to the wood finish of the cabinet. I still have some work to do on the piece. I need to add a back panel, and something really special, the words of the nursery rhyme, Hickory Dickory, Dock. Of course that means I needed a mouse to run down my clock. I used Sculpy to make a mouse, painting him when he was finished baking. I also want to add some trim, a bottom panel, and finally some feet. Hopefully I can get to that in the next few days.The finished piece will be for the children’s section of our store. I want the shop to be as inviting as possible. A few photos, before and after, and of course my mouse. That’s all for tonight. I need sleep! Goodnight.10 22

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One For The Books

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082 I’m sure everyone who reads this blog knows by now that our upcoming business will involve the sale of books. I may have even mentioned it myself. (After two hundred plus blogs I sometimes forget what I’ve talked about!) Dan had an e-reader, it came in quite handy when he was flying for business. When he got an  iPad he passed the e-reader on to me. I never used it, not once. We probably have upwards of three hundred books in our home. We are readers, our children are readers, and that makes me very happy. I like the feel of a book in my hands. I like to open my cookbooks and see crumbs in the crease of the binding. Books are magic. They can transport us from our everyday lives to the other side of the world. A good book can touch every human emotion. They can make us happy, sad, scared, enlightened, and take us to places we never knew existed. Yes an e-reader contains words, but there is something so special about a book. Have you ever picked up an old book to find an inscription inside? When I give my grandchildren books I want to be able to write a message inside the cover. I want to bend the corner where I left off. I want to highlight the sentence that spoke to me. E-readers have their place. It’s just not my place.

My daughter was invited to a baby shower recently. Along with the invitation she was given a book-plate. A small sticker to place inside a book for the new baby, but what I really loved about it was that it offered the giver of the book a place to write why they chose that book. I think it is an extraordinary idea to share something so precious. To be honest I would have a hard time picking one book for this assignment. For tonight more book-plates for our business.

I also had the pleasure today of dressing two very special friends for Halloween. To my favorite zombies, Gabby and Kingston, I hope you had a lot of fun tonight.

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The Reality Of Making A Plan

A few definitions courtesy of Google.

Plan

1. A detailed proposal for doing or achieving something.

2. An intention or decision about what one is going to do.

Reality

The world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them.

This is my life. There are plans, and then there is reality. Today is Wednesday. It is the day that I set as a deadline to work on my portrait of Jessica. It was a plan. The reality is that I have too many projects occurring at the same time. This does not matter to Jessica (the portrait, the real Jessica is lovely and patient), I feel the portrait of Jessica giving me the evil eye. I made a silent promise to it today that I will visit soon, and before Halloween when this whole thing would be just too creepy.

My Grandfather clock/bookcase. Another plan. The reality is that I need Dan to help me with it. Dan has hurt his back. (Just a little for those of you who care) The reality is that I should not be allowed anywhere near power tools that may remove appendages from my body. I actually like my fingers. I am a smart capable woman, I am also a complete klutz. Any project that requires a saw shall remain undone until my partner is feeling better.

Plan B

A watercolor of some Hollyhocks.

Reality

Boring. Been done, no need to repeat.

No plan. I begin to wander the house looking at the messy piles of art supplies that are now in every room. No plan. I make my way into the garden, sneaking by portrait of Jessica and hope she doesn’t see me. (I believe I’m developing a phobia) There are supplies in the garden too. They are neatly arranged, because Dan neatly arranges them. I see a piece of wood. It is a cast off. Too small for a shelf or much else. I have an idea, something that has been on my mind for several days. I think I know what I want to do, but then I begin to use watercolor on the wood. I wasn’t even sure it would work, but it does, beautifully. My intention was to paint the wood to look bruised, it doesn’t look bruised, it is soft, it flows gently into the grain. The wood has plans of its own. There is a knot in the wood. The plot thickens, my project changes. I have made it known that I am just a little intense about trash and recycling. It occurs to me as I watch this scrap of wood begin to change, that it might have ended up in our trash. It was too small for anything, well anything except art. I use a lot of paper. I recycle all of it. Would I throw away this much paper? No, that would be a crime in my house. The knot in the wood appears to me as an eye. A living thing. This piece of wood was a living thing. The evolution of a piece of art. No plan, just the reality of all that we, that I, waste. This simple piece of wood that began its life as part of a beautiful tree. Reborn. Making a statement. Sometimes I don’t have the words, and then I look to those who are wiser than I. Thank you Mahatma Gandhi.IMG_1848

 

I’ve Got No Time For This

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I’m one of those people who almost always follows the rules. I often joke that I was born responsible. Throughout my life I have always tried to do things the right way. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t had some major league failures, but I try hard, always give my best effort, and crucify myself with guilt if I fail. (Catholic, remember) I never had a teenage rebellion, always did what my Mother asked, at the moment she asked, and could probably be labeled a “goody two shoes”. (An odd expression, who comes up with this stuff?) I think my only rebellious streak applies to the a fore mentioned failure to read the rules.  I’m a very smart woman, really smart, apparently so smart that I think I can do everything without reading the instructions. I mean, who are “they” to tell me how to do something? I bring the “not following the rules” issue up because I had a moment today when I thought about my biggest faults as an artist.

1. Failure to read instructions, or to take classes. In my defense, I have been doing things my own way for so long that quite frankly other people annoy me when they tell me what or how I should do something.

2. That dirty word, Perspective. Hate it, wish I didn’t have to care about it, and generally it gives me nightmares. It is equal to the horror that is geometry.

3. Impatience. I’ve touched a little on this in the past in regards to oil painting, but it really applies today. As I write this I am waiting for paint stripper to take effect. Herein lies the problem. I don’t want to wait. I want the paint to fall off right now. I’ve mentioned before that I have artistic vision. In particular when it comes to painting, recycling, upcycling, reupholstering, and re-imagining furniture pieces. In my head the piece is done. It is painted, stained, distressed….and so on, in my head. Therefore I want it done now. Not in thirty minutes, or even fifteen. I want what is in my head standing in front of me.

4.  Procrastination. Once again, putting myself and this daily project on the back burner. Poor Dan has spent more than one night falling asleep on the couch waiting for me as I type my blog late at night. Starting paintings after dinner is not the way to go, it’s just that I am ingrained with the notion that everyone else comes first. It’s only four in the afternoon here in Temecula, a fact I proudly brought to Dan’s attention. The truth is I’m only writing because I have to wait for more stripper to work! Sixteen more minutes until I can scrape again, its killing me. Maybe I need to work on consecutive projects, that way I’ll fill every minute.

Much, much later…

I took my own advice, and thrilled that I did. Stripping my wood piece is taking much longer than I planned for. As I was looking for pieces to add to my project I came across a small piece of vintage decorative wood I bought years ago. I have been meaning to do something with this piece for the longest time. From the moment I saw this piece of wood it reminded me of church windows. I have several gravestone photos from Richmond, Virginia, one of which I used in a previous altered art project. I changed all the photos to black and white,  then I cropped and printed my photos on vellum. Attached inside the frame and lit from behind using battery operated candles, it’s beautiful! I have some finishes to add in the morning, as well as continuing with my furniture piece. It is now ten at night. I know, I started this blog hours ago, but in the interim I had a very romantic evening with Dan in the garden. First a wonderful dinner, and then a movie. A few years back we built our own outdoor screen. Tonight we watched Midnight In Paris under a full moon. Sometimes the blog can wait.

Photos of the beginnings of a project. Roughly fifteen years ago I purchased an antique headboard from a crib with the intention of doing something fabulous. It never happened. It was the height of my ignoring myself. Today I decided to do something with it. The second piece happens to be the top off of a small dresser from my Mom. The dresser fell apart, but since my Mother gave it to me I needed to keep some part of it, and it happens to be a perfectly good piece of wood. The two shall marry tomorrow, all are invited to the reception. The crib still needs a little work. (So I guess that makes it the groom…just kidding) Also the photo from the second project from today. My candle lit gravestone piece. Much to do tomorrow….stay tuned.10 19

Before stripping10 19 1Dresser top

10 19 2The almost fully stripped piece

IMG_1812Gravestone piece in progress, back-lit with candles.