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Damaged Goods

It’s been some time since I’ve discussed my complete lack of coordination. Many people who know me believe that I am sick quite often, which actually isn’t true, I’m just injured a lot. I think it has a lot to do with my very active mind (previously known as Monkey Brain). I am always concocting something, could be a new recipe, or I may have seen a piece of junk I am re imagining in my head, or maybe it could be a piece of art I’m working on. All of this thought apparently occupies so much of my brain that I fail to see curbs, steps, and open doors, this of course leads to bumping into things, bruises, and in my case the six knee operations I have previously referred to. There is also the accidentally slit wrist (the gory details of that little episode are in a past entry), two sprained ankles, two broken fingers, an almost severed Achilles’ tendon, and an almost broken nose. There is so much more, but I’m sure everyone gets the general idea. It’s amazing that I don’t spend my life in a cast, or worse yet live like John Travolta in The Boy In The Plastic Bubble. I know it sounds pathetic, but I guess for me it’s just part of who I am. I have a tremendous amount of creative talent, so I guess the lack of coordination is the price I pay. I bring all of this humiliating information to the attention of everyone that reads my blog because I injured myself again today, and as a result I am posting a piece of art that I painted last year. I am also, in anticipation of tomorrow, giving a sneak peek of elements of tomorrow’s project, which hopefully I will be able to create, (that is if there isn’t some other spectacular event in the uncoordinated Olympics).  I am hoping to be up to working on yet another cabinet door. So what was today’s calamity? How did I manage to hurt myself once again? I hugged my husband. Seriously. Dan is about six-foot one, I am currently five-foot four. I say currently because much to my surprise I have lost an inch. No, not osteoporosis, my bones are good, it’s all those knee surgeries. Anyway, this morning I hugged Dan, and somehow upon disentangling myself from him I pulled something in my back. I have been dealing with scar tissue from a head on collision for a few years, and now who knows what I did. Who ever knows what I do? Maybe it’s Murphy’s Law, I am 100% Irish, could it be that Murphy is a not so distant relative? Maybe it has to do with my continual lack of sleep. Monkey brains don’t turn off easily, so sleeping is and always has been an issue. I’d like to believe that all that sleep deprivation fuels creativity, even if it does cause me to do idiot stuff like walking into walls, or God forbid hugging my husband. Hopefully tomorrow I will be a fully functioning klutz once again, and I will have new work to post.

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My Skewed Brain

We all know that perspective is my arch nemesis. Maybe my brain is skewed. All I know is that if I don’t draw some kind of guideline everything goes to the right. That includes my handwriting. If I write on an unlined piece of paper, it will inevitably start climbing towards the right edge of the paper as if it were trying to make an escape. Tonight’s watercolor is a perfect example. It looks good as I’m sketching it, but when I pick up the paper and hold it away from myself it is definitely veering to the right. Its frustrating. Of course I know the answer to the problem, practice, practice, practice. I should be drawing daily. I also might try watching that perspective DVD I own. I think I may have mentioned it a few weeks ago. I did take a major step towards watching it then, by that I mean I took the wrapper off. I seem to have an aversion to actually learning how to do anything with help, but if I want to be a better artist I need to bite the bullet.

On a much better note, I love my gift for Dan. I actually ended up turning the cabinet door over and using the other side. The trim is flat instead of rounded and just worked better with the painting. I mixed a little flat black with a metallic gun metal and painted the door. I am also a huge fan of a worn edge, so I sanded the edges down. I glued the cut canvas down to the recessed area. It looks great. I do need to add a little trim inside around the painting. I may also add a finish coat. Dan and I also discussed putting a piece of glass over it. Not sure yet, but I’m really happy with it, and Dan loves it. When I think about it painting a cabinet door is the perfect gift for him. He is continually closing them behind me, and also shutting drawers.  Its not really my fault, it’s really because my brain is skewed.IMG_0828

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Smear Of Inspiration

We had friends coming for dinner tonight, which we know of course means that I need to clean my house within an inch of its life. It also meant that I needed to get a piece of art finished before they came. As always I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I have more than a few pieces that need to be finished, including the biggest hurdle, the portrait of Jessica. It has been sitting on my larger easel in the garden, I just need to bring it in and get to work. I have to admit that I have been avoiding it. I haven’t been hearing the “not good enough” voice in my head lately, but there is something about that portrait that allows it to creep into my mind. There is nothing that forces my hand like a promise, I am one of those people who always do what they say, so here goes…I will work on that portrait tomorrow, that will be what I post tomorrow night. That’s it, now I have to do it. Well, now that I committed myself….back to tonight’s saga. I decided to paint in oils, grabbed a photo from my computer, one I had taken in Giverny of a house and garden. I started to paint and it just wasn’t working. Normally this would be where I gave up, I didn’t. I took some paper towel and wiped the canvas clean, but as I looked at the smeared colors I felt inspired. I began playing with the color and building on what was there, after a bit it began to look like water to me, and since my head was still in Giverny I decided to add waterlilies. I was really pleased with my results, not that it’s the greatest painting I’ve ever done, but I love that I just dove in and did it. I need to keep that healthy attitude with me tomorrow when I climb the hurdle of the portrait of Jessica. Actually, I need to carry that with me every time I paint. One of my complaints to Dan over the years was that I couldn’t get what was in my head on the canvas. There was also my need to depend on photographs, mine or others to paint from. Tonight it was all me, no photo, just inspiration from a smear of paint. I’m still having days where I struggle, but more and more I am excited about work yet to come, and hopefully with time it will come easier. And yes, I did a recent blog about the Van Gogh and Monet’s that all artists must attempt, I can honestly say Monet was nowhere near my head when I did this one.

 

Waterlilies oil on canvas.8 20

Flipping The Switch

Today while sorting through the reams of paper clippings I have, I came across quite a few clippings of words and phrases. I love words, and particularly quotes. I cut them out to use with some collage pieces I had planned on doing. Those collages were part of a past project, one I began years ago, one of many half-hearted attempts at trying to figure myself out, both artistically and in my entire life. Like those “I’ll start Monday morning” diets I keep referring to, these collages were meant to jump-start self discovery because I felt so lost. I have a box of words, hundreds of them, I probably made four collages. I kept finding words that I thought would reflect my new outlook, or that would inspire my art. Like so many other projects the collage project was over before it started. Life is funny. I spent years trying to lose weight, twenty years of on and off dieting, and then one day I did it. I lost quite a bit of weight and although I’ve gained and lost a few pounds, I have for the most part kept my weight down for eight years. I don’t exactly know what flipped the switch, what got me to the place where I cared enough about myself to lose the weight. I find myself bewildered once again. I’ve been trying to discover who I am as an artist for most of my life, and I have the books and supplies to prove it. I may have mentioned that the book that started this blog happened to be one I already owned when I purchased a second copy. I didn’t buy a second one on purpose, it’s just that I have so much stuff I don’t know what I have. The difference is that this time I actually opened the book and read it. What got me here I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pin point exactly, but I’m grateful for whatever it is. I wish I had figured “it” out, whatever “it” is years ago. I can’t go back, I can only move forward. I’m liking so much of what I’m producing these days. That being said, I’m running on empty, not enough sleep, worried about my Dad and my sisters, and of course our situation here at home, so for this evening I did a little watercolor of some beautiful wildflowers that I photographed in San Diego when we went hiking. A tiny project from a very tired woman,8 19

 

Speaking Through Art

Do you ever have one of those days where you are so over tired that you accomplish nothing? I had a day like that today. We’ve stayed up far too late the last few nights and are both exhausted. I ended up working on a lot and nothing at the same time. I grabbed an orphaned painting from my studio intent on finishing it today, but changed my mind about finishing the painting. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the idea of it, trouble is it wasn’t my original idea. The painting was based on a photograph from a magazine ad. I loved the pose of the woman and the style of the photo. It was one of the many paintings that I started and stopped due to my fear of judgement upon completion. That was then. I am finishing my work these days. Not all and I need to remedy that. I have roughly four half done oil paintings sitting in my dining room right now. This one I had intended to finish, but as I have also mentioned before, I no longer want to base my work on anything other than photos I take or what comes out of my head. Everyone who has seen what I had completed on this particular piece has said they love it, but I just can’t do it anymore. I want ownership of what I do. I studied the photo today to figure out exactly what appealed to me about it. I realized that it was the way the woman was almost holding herself. I don’t even remember what the ad is about, but the photo evokes a feeling of grieving in me. The posture of the model and how she seems to be holding herself reminds me of when my Mother passed away. There is a loneliness in the loss of someone you love so much. You often hear people say that we all die alone. I think we grieve alone too. Dan was as always compassionate, loving and sensitive. He held me countless times as I sobbed, and continues to be there when I have a momentary sense of loss. The truth is though, that no one can feel my pain and my loss. Even my sisters, because we all had our own relationship with her, and with my Dad I couldn’t relate at all. I said as much to him, that he knew what it was like to lose a parent, I had no idea what it meant to lose someone you have been with for more than fifty years. This photo inspired all of that in me, and as I said, I don’t remember the ad, but I know it wasn’t for something sad. All of this caused me to rethink what I wanted to do. I decided to finish the painting, at least the essence of it. The woman was in bathing attire, I am changing that, her hair, her face, only the position of her body will remain. It is in the position of her body that speaks to me, as if she is comforting and holding herself. I’ve had those moments, I’m sure we all have, moments where you feel so very alone, and in that moment you hold yourself. I want to create my own work that speaks, I want someone to see something I’ve painted and feel. It’s that simple, happy, sad, nostalgic, whatever, I just want to speak through the work.There isn’t much to see as of yet. I began to mess about with the painting before I really knew what I wanted to do. Small preview tonight, and since it is sort of on topic, an artist card I made a few years back that I put a poster edge filter on.artist card, broken heart.jpgposter edge

 

 

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One More Word On Perspective

Last night I requested prayers and good karma for my Dad. He came through everything fine, so thanks to all.

 

My own words came back to haunt me when I got up this morning and saw the news. I’m talking about perspective. My husband is still out of work, my Dad is in the hospital, and in the last month our dishwasher went on the fritz, Dan needed work done on his car that ran us five hundred dollars we didn’t need to spend, I lost a diamond chip out of my engagement ring, I had pneumonia, and my oven blew out, another two hundred dollars. Woe is me right? Not so much. I looked at the news of what is happening in Egypt right now and consider myself lucky. I don’t usually write about politics or world events, but when I thought about what I had written last night, and then saw the horror going on in that country. I have to say something, it altered my perspective on what is going on in my life. Yes, some of it sucks, but I have so much to be grateful for. I told my son this morning that there isn’t a mother in this world who loves her children less than I love mine. I don’t care what the political issues are, I don’t care what your religion is, or about the color of your skin, what I do care about is allowing a mother to raise her children in peace. Maybe we can all send out the good karma and prayers to those people tonight, and to the millions of others who find themselves in similar, horrific situations. My Dad has a philosophy about religion that I love. Everything in his life relates in some way to soccer. He said to me, “Religion is like soccer, I don’t care which team you play for, as long as you play the game.”

Tonight I have a few things to post. My friend Emily (the 4 year-old) found out today that she is getting glasses. I still remember when I got mine, I was thirteen. I needed glasses for at least a year and a half before I got them. My Mom was convinced that I wanted them only because my cousin had them. I couldn’t see a thing. She finally realized that I was telling the truth when I couldn’t find something for her in the pantry. When I got my first pair of glasses the thing I remember most is my Mother’s face. I had forgotten how many freckles she had. For Emily tonight two little gifts, a new “Emily” cartoon with glasses, and a bookmark for her bedtime stories.

I also spent time finishing my cabinet door chalkboard, and a small pen and ink.

A very busy day, but again, I spent it with Dan in our beautiful home, and in my little corner of the world there is no war outside my front door. Lets all pray for peace.

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The Power Of Perspective

If you’ve read my blog you know that perspective is my nemesis, but that is artistic perspective.  There is the other perspective, the kind I try to use in my daily life, the kind I use when I want to stop myself from being judgmental, when I try to put myself in the shoes of someone else.

Today was a tough one. I posted last week about my Dad having an accident, and although he is out of the hospital things are not well. When you are weeks away from your eighty-first birthday and sustain a concussion it really takes its toll on your brain. Dad has been with my sister for a few days and while he has moments where he seems his old self, more often than not he is confused. I am still hopeful that he will regain some of his memory and cognizance. What worries me as well is the rest of my family. I have three sisters, each with our own families and health issues. The stress and burden of caring for an aging loved one can take its toll. It isn’t about not loving someone, there is a great deal of that, but just how much it can break down communication between siblings, between couples, destroy families. I talked to my sister earlier this evening and told her how I felt. We all need to be respectful of each others lives and needs. Two of the girls are carrying the weight of what is happening to our Dad. I live hundreds of miles away. Yes, I can sympathize, I can and do make phone calls for them, but the reality is that it is their lives that are affected. I have said often in the last few days that it is easy for me to suggest something because I am here, and they are there. I told both women today that I don’t want this to come between us, most of our family is in Ireland so there is just us. If we want to truly honor what our father and our mother would want, then we need to stick together. Everyone needs to recognize that what is important to one isn’t important to another. Perspective is a powerful thing. When we as the individual suffer we see it only through the prism of our own lives. When we feel pain, it is no more or no less than what someone else might feel, but it is our pain, and for that it should be respected. In situations such as the one we find ourselves in now it is easy to look at someone else and think that something is trivial, or less important that our “stuff”. It’s not. I want to make sure that throughout this process that no one of us feels alone, singled out, or less valued. Relationships can be damaged beyond repair with a single sentence. I love my Dad, but I love my sisters as well. I would like to get beyond this and be able to look back, say we did our best, but that more importantly, we remain as sisters, as friends. Tomorrow my Dad is back in the hospital for a test that could lead to a pacemaker. Wishes for good karma, and prayers are appreciated.

I don’t have the finished “up-cycled” cabinet door to post as of yet. I am putting multiple coats of the Martha Stewart chalk paint on it. I had done two yesterday, but upon closer inspection earlier today I sanded the corners down and redid the paint. It is a project that I am hoping to sell and want it to be perfect.

What I did accomplish today is a watercolor. We spent part of our afternoon in the Temecula Valley Cheese Shop, one of my favorite places. The owner is a friend, and was kind enough to spend time with us as we consider opening a place of our own. We had some wine, and a plate of cheese. It was a little respite from my worried and troubled mind. Inspired by our afternoon, I did a painting of a cheese plate that I put together. Too bad I can’t share.8 14

 

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

My Ruby Slippers

Some good news today, my Dad Is doing a little better.  I had more than one nurse tell me over the phone today how charming he is. It’s the brogue, does it every time. I’m still really worried about him, but he can be quite funny, and knowing he is up to his usual goofy behavior makes me feel better. I’m still praying for him, anyone else who wants to join in is more than welcome.

I spent part of the day working on the logo which is giving me more trouble than I expected. It’s tough to create a piece of art that will reproduce well in a two-inch size.

For tonight a little trompe l’oeil. It’s been years since I’ve done it, but tonight I came across a small wooden art box in my studio that I’ve been meaning to do something with and decided to play with that. I painted a pencil on the lid tonight. but want to add a few other items to the top. I had really intended to do a lot more today. I’m about a third of the way through this project. Seventeen weeks in to be exact. I had planned to celebrate with some fabulous piece of art, it just didn’t come to me. I think part of what is getting between me and the logo project, and the work from tonight and from last night, is worry. Things still don’t seem to be going our way around here, and then with my Dad getting sick on top of it…let’s just say that sometimes its tough to stay positive. I am worried for my Dad, for Dan, for myself, and our family. There’s a Death Cab For Cutie song called, “What Sarah Said”, it is a song that has a great deal of meaning to it. It’s as though someone was watching in the ICU when my Mom got sick. There’s one line, “And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time”, I’m not even sure I can explain how that line resonates with me. I have wasted so much time in my life focusing on the wrong things, or being angry about things that really don’t matter, and especially not taking care of myself. I think about my Dad, soon to be eighty-one, and I know he has his own little prayer for more time. This entire project where I am discovering myself as an artist, might not have been necessary if I had stopped worrying about the crap, and focused years ago on the one thing that could really make me happy, my work. I did a little altered art card, not a good one, a very early attempt at Photo shop, but you will understand it when you see it. I made it a year or two ago, and the message was right there, I wrote it, but I still didn’t get it. It’s a little sad to discover, like Dorothy’s ruby-red slippers clicking together to bring her home, that I had what I needed all along. So here I am, with my prayer to father time, trying to discover who I am, and what I am capable of, in the Fall of my life. Grandma Moses jokes aside, it is more than time to be who I was meant to be. Small work tonight, but its about all I can manage at the moment.8 9

 

 

Artist Jackie

Oils, I Have Missed You So

Of course my plan to get out first thing this morning to do a little oil painting never happened. This despite my gushing over how happy I was to have them back. As always I had things to do in the house. I think maybe what I need is a set of horse blinders, you know so I can’t see dirty dishes, dust, or the cat hair tumbleweeds that have been known to travel through my house. By the time I sat down to work it was no longer daytime, but actually about 8:15. I’m just about a third of the way through my project and time management remains an issue for me. That is, I manage to find time for everything else but my art. I will again attempt to make a promise to myself that my art will become a priority, but I think we all know that it still falls under the ” I’ll start my diet Monday” category. I’m beginning to think that it won’t happen until it is supposed to. By that I mean that we all make promises to ourselves and others, and despite our sincerity when we make them, the promises go unmet until the planets align, or the earth spins the other direction, or our brain just kicks in. I’m hoping that one of them happens soon. I find myself so tired by the time I start that sometimes I don’t feel like working. I can’t keep letting that happen.

I did eventually work tonight, in oils, indoors (don’t tell Dan). I had a small square canvas I painted black some time ago. I grabbed it, not sure of what I would paint, but as I walked out of the studio I noticed one of the boutonnieres from my daughter’s wedding sitting near the door. It’s been nearly four months since the wedding and I somehow have ended up in possession of two or three bridesmaids bouquets, three or four boutonnieres and the bride’s bouquet. Actually, I am keeping Jessica’s bouquet because otherwise her pug, Otis the mini-terror, will have his way with it. (He is very cute, but oh so naughty!) I love the look of the dried roses and hydrangea, so I decided to paint those. My canvas is only about four by four, and I really did only a quick study, but I do like it very much, and I LOVE having my oils back! Oils, tomorrow we shall meet again!

By the way, isn’t it Superman that can spin the world backwards? Does anyone know a guy with tights and a cape?

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