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Small Packages

Back to one of my favorites yet again. I came up with an idea this morning for a Valentine Day project, it involves my paper burning technique, as well as many other smaller components. It’s again one of the small cardboard soap boxes that I saved from the recycling bin. I used the burning technique on the box, I also took the original hole in the front of the box and cut out an additional piece to create a keyhole. The inside is still a work in progress. Inspired by a gift I made for Dan a few years ago. I made him a small book of the 100 reasons that I love him. It was filled with photos, poems, small copies of some of my work, and little pockets will notes inside. The inside of this box will be a series of cards that pull out in an accordion style. The cards will also have small illustrations, quotes about love, and space for personal thoughts. My plan is to finish the piece tomorrow and place it on etsy. I think any time a gift can be made so personal it makes it that much more special. I want to create a gift that can have some beautiful art, inspiring words, but to also give someone the opportunity to add their own creative touch. A small gift packed with a lot of feeling. I’m not a jewelry girl, or for that matter any expensive gift. I love the gifts that my kids make, a music compilation, a drawing, a photograph that they took, and from Dan, letters. There is nothing I love better than thoughts on paper. Tonight the beginnings of what I think will be a really great project.1 24 (2)

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Self Reflection

I had a real crisis of self-esteem yesterday. I think it was reflected in my work last night. I’ve been spending months building my artistic self-esteem project by project, and in one bad afternoon I allowed myself to undermine months of hard work. I thought a lot about that today. I don’t want to give power to those feelings of inadequacy. I’m disappointed that I let those old demons out.

I again find myself having a day where art got pushed to the back burner. I had a lovely afternoon with Gabby (my nine-year old friend). We did homework, and then we made banana bread muffins, and a couple of deep dish pizzas. I have promised myself the full day tomorrow to paint, and I fully intend to keep that promise. For tonight one more mirror pen and ink. I wasn’t up to much, still struggling against something, still have a headache. Grabbed some vitamin C today in hopes of keeping the flu away. Either way I’m painting tomorrow, promise.1 22

Moody Inspiration

I had intended to do a much larger piece of art today, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there may be a flu in my future. Several friends have been sick in the last few weeks, and although I did get a flu shot, I am feeling slightly under the weather. My head is feeling quite a bit heavier than normal, and it aches as well. Let’s just hope its a travel hangover from the weekend. I did work quite a bit today, but that was on (I hate to say it) fairies. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but they do spread quite a mess throughout my house. We are still suffering a glitter containment issue from Christmas. I have quite a few new ideas that I am working on, so glitter it is. For my blog tonight I did a little experiment. A few years ago I saw a photograph in a restaurant in shades of browns and blacks. I have done a couple of black and shades of gray watercolors before, I wanted to try something similar with the browns and blacks. Inspired by the photo I saw I painted a portrait of a woman’s profile. I like the effect, I do wish I had used a different weight of paper. This is a much more textured paper and I had a difficult time blending. In the end I am pleased with the portrait. There is a moodiness to it that I like. (Maybe because of how I’m feeling!) I think I’d like to attempt one in oil. Before I get to that I do have a number of half done orphans in my studio. Time to do a little catch up, that is if health permits tomorrow. For now, short blog, early to bed, hoping my head feels better in the morning. 1 20

Home

No ruby slippers to instantly transport me home, so another five-hour return drive in the car. No watercolor paintings this time. I was busy taking photographs. I began to play with my phone taking pictures as we drove through the Arizona desert. We’ve made this same journey several times before, and I have taken hundreds of photos along the way both coming and going, but I wanted to play with the filters on my iPhone. I have always loved black and white photography, and there is a filter on my phone named “transfer”, the colors were really different, very vintage looking. I went crazy for both. I shot more than five hundred photos. I couldn’t wait to get home to unload my phone to see all of them. I had been checking through them as we drove and was loving the results. Then I unloaded my phone. Not one photo appeared in my computer with the filter on it. I have been having issues with the phone, but not with the camera. I was devastated, of course me being me, I deleted all of the photos before really looking at them to see that they had unloaded without the filters. I checked with my local tech gurus (that would be Dan and Brian, husband and son respectively) but no one seemed to have an answer. I finally googled it. To my dismay it seems that there is no way to save them with the filter unless you email them to yourself. Ridiculous if you take as many photos as I do, and I had already deleted them. I called the help line (Jessica) who is always quick to help her not so tech savvy mother in a pinch. I followed her instructions and emailed myself one of my photos back out of my desk top, applied the filter and then emailed it back to myself. Success! Now I only have hundreds more to do. (Just kidding) I’ll have to take a good look before I decide which photos are filter worthy. To say I am annoyed with the entire process is a major understatement. However, I did manage to take quite a few photos today that I love, so I will be busy emailing myself for the next week. Because I have nothing better to do.

You have probably guessed by now that I am home, happily ensconced in my nest, and I am. As wonderful as new experiences can be, as lovely as visiting family can be, as intriguing as exotic destinations are, there truly is nothing like the feeling of walking in your own front door, putting up your feet, and letting out a sigh of satisfaction. Our girls, Riley, Mia, and Sophie were glad to have us back to do their bidding. Mia in particular knows exactly what she wants. She walks towards me with determination, hops onto my lap, and demands to be petted as she purrs away. I was tired today, ten hours of travel between Friday’s trip to Phoenix and the return trip today, and my usual restless hotel sleeping, I decided that tonight I would do something just for fun. A watercolor of my Mia. It’s also been quite a while since I threw in a little photography. Some desert shots, one in its original color as nature intended, a black and white, and a before and after with the filter applied (thank you Jessica!) Back to my life tomorrow, with bigger and better art to come.IMG_5105As nature intended…

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Out Of Sorts

Two small watercolors today on a day where I am feeling very out of my element. I don’t do well away from home. I am definitely a girl that needs to be in her own nest. Not enough sleep last night, hotel beds are not my friend. A long restless night, after a night when I stayed up much too late. I am out of sorts as well. We head home tomorrow and I am already counting the minutes. I have often said I’d go anywhere in the world as long as I can sleep in my own bed at night. I find comfort in familiar surroundings. It’s silly how attached we can become to “things”, but I am attached. I wake every day surrounded by things I love. We have a lot of things, too many things in fact, but I love pretty much all of it. Not that there aren’t days when I walk through my house and do a mental list of what can go when I downsize. There are things I will hang onto with my last breath, that being said about a year ago as I walked through the house I thought about what I didn’t need, I actually picked up more than forty things that I could easily get rid of without a thought. Some of them are gone, I sold a few of them, but most are still around getting moved from place to place. I miss my cats as well. They are well taken care of by a good friend, but still the mother hen I am worries how they are doing without me. I’m sure while reading this you can realize that even after a day I am homesick. I think being homesick has a little to do with control issues. Really, I think that when I am home I know my surroundings, I am free to do as I choose, but when you are a guest there are limitations in choices, that just doesn’t work for me. I like to be in charge of my day, That may sound ungrateful, I’m not, I am just a creature of habit who is lost without her “things”.  I really didn’t spend enough time working on these paintings today, but I didn’t have the alone time or silence that I need to feel creative, as a result one of the paintings is only half done. The other is inspired by some old Lustreware dishes I own with wispy painted landscapes on them. By this time tomorrow I will be home and all will be well in my world.imageimage

Art On The Move

I’ve got it figured out, the way to make time for art. I simply need to be confined to a moving vehicle with a set of watercolors and a bottle cap (for water, in case you were wondering). We are on the road today, on the way to Phoenix for my mother in law’s birthday. It’s only 1:35 in the afternoon and I’ve completed an art project. (I wont be able to post this until later today because the art is for her.) As always I travel with too many supplies. There is barely enough room for me in the front seat of the car. Books, magazines, paper, pens for pen and ink, pencils, and two sets of watercolors, and I’ll be back on Sunday. I’m not even sure what clothes I grabbed to wear, and I have two pairs of shoes, the ones on my feet, and a pair of tennis shoes for walking. That’s the stuff I don’t care about, well maybe I care a little, I brought four shirts for two days, but what I do care about is being prepared for whatever inspiration strikes. Of course oils and acrylics are back at home, but I can always lay down an idea in watercolor and revisit with another medium later. I did get up this morning and clean the house, but here I am sitting in the passenger seat with nothing to distract me, nothing else to prioritize, no excuses. I know many a passenger would just enjoy the view or fall asleep, (Brian’s been out cold since we left) but I am one of those “ants in your pants” people. I hate, hate, hate sitting still. I always need an activity. For my last five knee surgeries I prepared an activity cart ahead of time, that way I could order my man-servant (Dan) to wheel it over. I had to have something to do when sitting on the couch. Morphine drip in one leg, paint brush in the other hand. To say I have ants in my pants doesn’t nearly cover it. After one of my surgeries I sat looking at our family room fireplace, within a week I had dragged myself over and tiled the front of it. Captive in the passenger seat I thought about what was at hand. Watercolor paper, paints, and a photo of Lulu my mother in laws dog. yesterday I told Dan not to buy a card that I’d make one. I never had the time, but as we take this five-hour drive time is all I have. A portrait of Lulu as a card. This isn’t my first expedition into art in a moving vehicle. I painted almost the entire eleven hour trip on Air France as we returned home from a very belated honeymoon, and I’ve seen more than one trucker do a double take after glancing down into our car.

Lulu in watercolor. Joyce’s adorable Yorkie, Happy Birthday Joyce!image

The Cluttered Attic

I’ve been working for nearly a year now on this project, and while I feel so much more empowered as an artist, there is an area where I am still seeking to find myself. In my fearless artistic youth I wouldn’t look at a photo, or anywhere outside of my own mind to find inspiration. I would paint what was in my head. I guess when you are fourteen or fifteen there isn’t yet a lot of clutter in your head. When you are over fifty with two kids, a mortgage, injuries (too many to list!), an elderly father you worry yourself sick over (because you live thousands of miles away and can only help so much by phone), and you’ve spent most of your life ignoring yourself in pursuit of the happiness of everyone else that you love, inspiration gets lost along the way. The attic of a lifetime that resides inside my head is filled with way too many boxes. I search daily through the thousands of photos I’ve taken in a lifetime of “some day”, or the hundreds of photos torn from the pages of far too many magazines admiring the work of others and hoping it lights something inside me, all in pursuit of that moment when I know what it is I want to put on the paper, the canvas, the piece of wood. If you are an adult lucky enough to still hold onto childish dreams I admire you, I think I was born responsible. I’ve spent my life being just a little (a little?) uptight and self-conscious, always afraid to draw attention to myself, yet here I am putting myself out into the world. I guess my days of hiding are coming to an end. Maybe it’s time to turn into one of those people who forget to act their age. Maybe I need to risk attention. Maybe I need to act just a little silly, or better yet embarrass my children. (Fair warning Jessica and Brian) I need to shed a little baggage, clean out the clutter in my brain, and open myself to looking at what’s left in there when I’m finished. Could be there might be some little gem hiding in a dark corner.

I was really, really tired today. One of the lovely advantages of having a cluttered brain is lack of sleep. An hour and a half last night, what a treat! I wasn’t sure I would be up to anything, but I grabbed the box of “inspiration photos”, and the watercolors, and just let things develop. I ended up with two pieces. One is from a beautiful sunset over the nearby mountains, the other, a wild flower I took some time ago on the plateau. IMG_3828

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Outside The “Vortex”

While most of the country is suffering from “Polar Vortex” we lucky people in Southern California are enjoying beautiful weather. Dan and I hit the trails for a hike. Back to the Santa Rosa Plateau to walk in the Sylvan Meadows Trailhead. Not quite as challenging as our New Year’s walk, this trail  is much more level, no climbing, and full of little surprising pathways.  We walked for an hour and a half. Peaceful, quiet, with the exception of the birds in the trees. most everything on the reserve is the dried remains of summer and fall, but every now and then we would see a patch of bright green, or a small stray flower. As anyone who reads my blog knows, the last several months have not been easy. Today as we neared the end of our walk I said to Dan, “No matter what else happens in our life, no one can take this from us.” There are those moments in all of our lives that stay with us, however small, however fleeting, that are ours alone to treasure. Today we had more than a fleeting moment, we had more than an hour where our worries were somewhere else, where we enjoyed each others company, and the world around us. I took some photos with my phone, I’ll share a few here, but I also was inspired to do a little watercolor, an ode to our beautiful morning.1 8 14

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To my family in the midst of the “Polar Vortex”, miss you all but….IMG_3658

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I love Southern California Winters!

Reflections On Writing

If you’re a writer I don’t believe there can be anything worse than a lost thought. I’m sure writer’s block has its issues, but for me there is nothing worse than that fleeting thought that disappears from my mind in nearly the instant that I have it. I had such a thought this morning, and I remember thinking I need to remember this for my blog later. (Notice I remember thinking I should remember, but I don’t remember what the thought was) At least with writer’s block you aren’t pulling your hair out at the sentence that got away. I’ve been writing about as long as I’ve been drawing. Stacks and stacks of poetry, and endless beginnings to short stories. I have several journals with words contained within, but what I have much, much more of are the scraps of paper where I managed to record some of those fleeting thoughts. Grocery store receipts, deposit slips from my check book, and a pile of the loose subscription cards that fall from the pages of magazines. I have always planned to go back to them. Some to decipher the sentences that I scribbled in the dark when inspiration struck in the middle of a restless night, others because I was in an inconvenient place or time and just grabbed a quick second to record my thoughts before they vanished. There are times when these quick notes have turned into something special. Times when I reread words and they in turn gave birth to poetry. I have said it before, I love the written word. Much like art, when two people look at a painting they don’t both have the same reaction, each individual is made up of their own thoughts and experiences that play a part in how the work speaks to them. Reading the written word also speaks to our own experiences, we take those words and unknowingly apply it to our own lives. The words live on deep in our minds and can color our view by what we have taken from it. There have been times when I have read words that have caused me to go back in my own life and see a situation in a new light.  There may come a time before this project ends that I will illustrate my words. There has never really been a time when I thought of having the two connect, although I guess in some ways this very project has done that.

I had planned on finishing my table today, but as always there were other things to attend to. In the end I decided to return to one of my favorite activities, pen and ink. This piece may look familiar. Quite some time ago I drew an antique hand mirror in pen and ink, I have done the same tonight. It’s just a different mirror. I actually own four vintage mirrors and decided to draw another. As I sketch this beautiful mirror I again marvel at the craftsmanship of old. It is in itself a beautiful piece of art.1 7 14

Mirror illustration from October 29th.10 29

Early Valentine

I love putting up the Christmas decorations. It looks so festive and beautiful…for the first week, It then begins to look cluttered and messy. I have a very short holiday decor attention span. I know I’ve reached my limit when every time I walk past something that has some kind of glittery sheen I grab it and lay it on the dining room table. Six thirty this morning I am making my way down the stairs, I get as far as the landing and turn to walk down the second set of stairs and stop. I wrap this portion of the railing in greenery every year, with lights and ornaments. I grabbed the ornaments yesterday on one of my many trips up and down. Today I didn’t even make it to my first cup of coffee. I began unwrapping the bannister as I walked down. I unfortunately woke Dan, he thought it was the cats. Nope, just me being me, doing whatever I feel has to be done at that exact moment in time. Doesn’t matter the time, what I’m wearing, if I’ve had coffee, it needs to be done now. I stopped when Dan came down, had coffee, made breakfast, and then had planned to take a bath to appease my knees. Dan went for a walk, which I turned down because my knees hurt, but forty-five minutes later when he returned I was still on my feet dismantling Christmas. In the end we were all finished by about twelve thirty, me still in my nightgown and robe, Dan in his walking clothes. My house? Beautiful, no clutter (well, actually lots of clutter but the stuff I like having around) and all is well in my world.

Artistically it was a frustrating day. A day where I started more than one project and none seemed to want to work. I think I was tired from this morning, and in a bit of a funk. I started a watercolor of a lighthouse, which I measured, and measured, and measured, to get the perspective right, it was wrong. I don’t know how that is possible but it just didn’t work. In the end I decided to give Dan an early Valentine. We don’t do much for Valentine’s Day, we are fortunate enough to love and appreciate each other every day. I made him a piece of art a few years ago in a Mexican Nicho, a small tin box with a glass door. I wrote a little poem, and in my odds and ends I had two intertwining rings and an old metal heart. I made him another tonight with a painted ceramic heart I had, and another Nicho. I need a good night’s sleep to refresh my artistic mojo!IMG_3554

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