Christmas

So, I am back from Christmas Break and all I want to do is go back to Omaha! I miss everyone already and I haven't even been gone a week! Loved the snow, loved the Christmas, loved to get hugs from everyone. It was absolute chaos with all the kids running around, but it was awesome for all the cousins to be i the same place at the same time. We got lots of pictures and everyone had a great time! No bickering, no comments, no one had anything negative to say at all! It was amazing, and I can't wait for summer. I think I need another trip back home. But maybe this time without the blizzard keeping everyone apart on the last two days of the trip. Gotta love the midwest.

A Book?

I think I decided to write a book. Actually, I think it was decided long ago. But now seems like as good a time as any to get on the ball. After all, it looks as if the powerball evades me and it would be nice to be heard....er red...er something like that. I wonder if anyone would really like what I could produce. Never know unless I try. All I know is that I have always felt, down to my very core, that I was meant for something great. And it really does feel as if I am living someone elses life at the moment. I can do anything I want. I have always had this philosophy. So the worst that can happen is that I fail. I've failed before and I am sure there will be many more along the way. But why not? I mean there are people who have made their fortunes doing nothing but going clubbing with the right person. At least I will have worked at this! I better get started. Hmmm, fiction or reflection? Non-fiction or drama? Suspense or Childrens? Such a wide variety of genres! Might take me another 10 years just to decide on that! LOL

Deeply Entrenched

On a day like today when the phone is ringing consistently and the mountain of paperwork seems like it may avalanche at any moment, I am thankful for waking up this morning. It's crazy and rushed and chaos reigns. But the clock is on hyper speed and the day ticks by with the ease of breathe. I am focused and energized by the air. The sun is shining and the air is crisp. Winter is coming and the season is ratcheting up to crescendo. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year will be here and gone without the climax it used to bring. The excitement is overshadowed by the weight of making every bow and every word precise. But the reward at the end is the excitement and joy in the faces of my children and the hot cup of coffee brought to me by my husband. And none of it is possible without days like today.

Sometimes

Sometimes a song comes across the airways. It's unique sound is so beautiful that it takes you by surprise and before you know it, your eyes are closed and your breathing is slowed. Your mind races to an amazing place. And then suddenly it's so beautiful, it's unbelievably sad. A rush of heat flushes the cheeks and tears well. An emotional and physical reaction to sounds that transport much in the same way a hollywood production spends millions to accomplish. And yet here, within just a few seconds of sound and clear mind, I have reached that place. But why is the beauty so sad? It must be something within me. A thousand un-answered questions and hundreds of self analytical moments. The song is over and here I sit with my keyboard and my thoughts. A surprise journey as I make my morning plans.

Here we are

Here we are at the edge of time. We stand, sit, run, stare and study the map of how we came to this point. Are we better at this point than if we had chosen to veer left at that last fork? Would it have made a difference? Is any of it really in our control? We can nudge the pitcher of lemonade and it fall to floor. Sticky sweet and glistening on the clean linoleum. Staring back at us with no answers. Cause and effect seems so simple. But what of the choices such as the car we choose to drive, the friends we choose to keep and the emotions we allow to cross our gaze? Cause and effect? So we stare and ponder a little more.

Stormy Day

So it's raining again. As you can tell from my last post, it's been raining on us here for several days. But I like it. I missed my call as a storm chaser. I also as it seems have missed my calling as something other than an office worker. But I digress. I would like to write some additional shtuff. I think someone may be reading it... :)

In the aridness of desert winds lives a creature seldom noticed and never heard. He lives his life with purpose. He never questions why he wakes each day for the soul purpose of completing the very same task that he did just yesterday. At the end of the day when his toiling his done, he is content to have accomplished as much as he could and happy to drift to sleep quickly as he is tired from a long days tasks. Procurement, companionship and security are never promised. The only constant is the drive to yet again complete his duties. But somehow, everything falls into place because nature cradles him. All that he requires to sustain life is provided by the miracle of the empty dunes. Procreation is instinctual and happens with ease. When the time comes to lie his tired weight into his nest for the final time, he has no regrets. There is no fear and no one to mourn his loss. You see no one ever told him that he needs those things. There has never been any of his kind to travel or question or need. There is only the desert and his duty. And that is a life we should all seek. Content, honest, tireless and simple. Thanks for reading.

More ramblings

1. A distraction for the mind or an event to dance the sun around the dial. A place to go or a call to make. A picture to imagine or a poem to write on the pages of pretty paper and lock inside the heart that created it. A time of loathing and moment of clarity. Everything at once, but nothing to motivate. A mangled nest of possibilities lacking direction and composure. Full of promise and short on nerve. The fog of chemical fed by the pleasure of silencing the internal chatter. The curse of femininity and the weight of modern expectations.

One questions stands at the cusp and begs an answer.

Who will help any one of find a path when nary a soul can find themselves?

2. Questions to transport you. - Have you ever gazed into the black of an approaching storm? Could you smell the moisture from a thousand mountain sunrises? Did your hair stand on end as the breeze washed electricity through your entire body? Have you stood in the open and dared the stampeding giant to come for you? Can you close your eyes and imagine the heaviness of the air? Can you feel the power of the thunder beneath your feet? Have you experienced the sensation of the leading downdraft as it washes the land with a million tiny particles of moisture from the farthest reaches to the soil beneath you? Have you ever posed yourself in the path of it in order to prove that you are mighty? Do you imagine that you are alone? Can you see the curtain of rain aproaching? Do you remain solid in your stance daring the beast to show itself? Can you feel the updrafts as they urge you now closer to the blackness? Does the pressure now matte the once up-right strands on your arms and neck down with humid force? Do you remain yet stagnant in pose as if in silent protest to the closening madness? Can you now smell the presence of debris from those who stood in protest before you? Are you able to now see the widening funnel as it licks the landscape in paralizing form? Are you still there? RUN BITCH WHAT THE FUCK!!!

Ramblings

At some point along the way, a small child with their heart filled with glee slowly becomes something much different. It creeps in like a misty fog and settles across the heart and into the eyes and seeps out through the infliction in their speech. Before any time at all has passed, the inocence is forgotten. A blur of mindless expectations race across the childs soul. Constant bombardment from every angle tells them they have to be the best, walk a straight line, rid themselves of their own style and conform to the ideality of society else face the coldness of rejection. They must strip themselves of their own uniquness and blend their hopes into an unrecognizable symbiance of what may have been. They wake to the sudden realization that although they are quite young at heart, the drone of time has robbed them of the chance to live spontaneously. How lucky are those that musn't cope with a life of duty, responsibility and obligation. How lucky are those that truly never know the pressure of conforming. How lucky are those that enjoy it. How miserable for the unique child wanting nothing more than a place to shine. Time is a wicked curse upon which many a dream have perished. Hope is a dangerous tool upon which the soul dies. And conformity is the dagger that steals it all.

Some vindication

Different sculpture, same idea, different result. I went through all of the steps from my most recent posts. But I did not use any wire structure to begin with, I sculpted the whole shape before letting it air dry. There were no extra legs or anything to attach. The slathered it with Acrylic paint. When that dried, it definately had more strength to it, but it was still not really hard to the touch. I have left it this way in the past because the figure was a pregnant female and it just made sense to keep it soft to the touch. But back to my progress. After the acrylic layer, I came back in with the fiberglas resin (minus the carpet.) and just left it to cure without any other materials. ( I used sand before) It dried crystal clear. It shows all kinds of cracks and imperfections and really magnifies the flaws that were present after drying. But I think I am liking this transperant hardening goo. Both produced interesting results. And yet there were only small differences in the processes used. I think the world needs a self-hardening no bake, no shrink when drying clay that remains very very rigid when dried. As far as I know there just isn't a product like this. If there is, I wish someone would please tell me. I love to sculpt, but I have no kiln. I have access to one, but when I am creating, it just flows and I don't tend to plan ahead. So I end up with something really great and it cracks and falls apart when dry. Then I have nothing excpet frustration. I have tried so many different products. I want something that acts like clay, hardens like stone-ex, does not shrink, and accepts paint or other finishes. Seems like a simple request.....right?

Another day of day of reflection

And it's Tuesday. Yes, but it feels like Monday. Except I am terribly behind schedule because Monday was a Holiday and that's just the way the cookie crumbles. But a long weekend of cleaning the house, viseo games with the kids and a new idea. The latter may just have been the best part. After yet more sculpture disaster, I decided I would try fiberglass. But minus the fiber part. I decided to try and adhere sand to the concoction rather than the fibers because there just is no way to retain some of the finer detailes if I slather the whole freakin thing with shag carpeting. I am not quite sure if this is what I was going for either. But boy oh boy did it produce an interesting result. This is where I would normally promise to post pictures. But I think we all know that probably won't happen. So, go play with it all by yourself and you can see what I am talking about. It will keep you busy and I can chuckle to myself about how I just made everyone fume up their house/studio/garage. Have Fun!

Sculpture Disaster

The idea is simple. Create a sculpture around the frame of a small lamp. 8 inch tall female figures, not too detailed. Posing and stretching, curling and entangled. The finished piece is to be a little on the weighty side as to avoid tipping. The figures self sustained. No need to balance one figure off of another. A science project and a piece of art. RIGHT............

So, here I am 3 weeks later. I halve solved the cracking issue. I have solved the strength issue by re-enforcing with wire. (Can't see the wire....it's hidden. :) Anywhoo, it totally sucks! It keeps falling over, it won't withstand the heat of the bulb even though it is baked. And now I am back at square one with an awesome idea and without the tools to make it happen.

What a waste! I really just want one sculpture to turn out the way I thought it might. And I really want my lamp that was going to be sooooooooooo cool!

I have tried, Stonex, Sculpey, Clay and have even hardened the cracks with fingernail acrylic. My living room smells like a nail shop and My desk is a complete mess. But still no lamp. It works, it's just ugly.

Okay, so there you have it. I have blogged about a complete FAIL.

Sniffle

Midnight Awakening Voice Recording

Just past midnight, awakening from another nightmare. I grabbed my voice recorder and recorded a message. I do my best composing in my sleep, in the middle of a dream or a nightmare. Here is that message....

Depression: The pill that dulls, deafens and dims. Effective, efficient and enigmatic. Time is diminished to routine and duty. No more emotion than demanded. Stealing souls and hiding truths. How can anyone escape thru eyes wide shut?

I love my voice recorder. Sometimes I wonder where this creative flow goes when consiousness takes over?

A bit of frenzy

As with many of the town hall meetings of late, my creating has peaked at a frenzied pace. I am so consumed with the feelings of bitterness and anger at the current administrations obvious feelings about everyday american, that it has taken over my art. I have created no less than 6 pieces with themes reflecting the political "unrest" or "revolutionary mindset" that seems to be prevelent at the moment. When I heard that our president requested fellow americans turn each other in for expressing free thinking and opinion or "speaking out" against the Health Care Reform, I absolutely felt scared for America. Our freedom of speech and diversity of opinion is what America is all about. His remarks on foreign soil about this being a muslim country? WTF is that about? I am truly afraid of what this president;s true intentions are for our society. To me, his views and opinions are very clear. I am not sure if I am ready to post pictures of my recent work, but I will share a few of the titles. I may save this work for a solo show at the gallery. It may wake a few people up to see that believing in god, being against tax payed abortions and abortions in general for that matter, and believing in morals is not the minority. We are the majority! Common sense must be returned to our leadership! As a fellow twitterer put it, " I see scorched earth in congress after the next election." We must as a pool of voters, take back control of our country!

Titles:

"Modern American"
"Love of Country"
"Slight of Hand"
"G5"

Theres more, but I will think about how I wish to proceed with these. Thanks for reading!

Creative imaginings - Reflections

At the edge of a cornfield, yet not far from the outcrop of suburbian concrete, a young girl stood in silent reflection. The mirror stood as the singular entity to recognize her soul. Young and starry-eyed, she gazed and admitted innocence and fear only to herself in the darkest of hours. She believed that all people were good at the core and that she could judge for herself who to trust and of whom to be weary. There was no grey, only black & white, right and wrong. "What are my limits? What can I do? Who will hear me? How long must I wait?" The innermost emotions lie just beneath the surface of the haze on the glass. Alone in the moment, she wiped the glass clean. A whispering breeze licked the stalks of corn, swept the laundry on the line and caught a whisp of her golden hair as it stole into her bedroom window. The aroma of late summer teased her senses. Closing her eyes, she could feel the energy rising as she opened starred once again back into her own eyes.

Awakening, her waiting had come to an end. Those who had once swatted as if in response to a nuisance insect, began to notice her standing in the darkened shadows of the back of the room. It had happened that her essence had extended to the exterior. The pout in her gaze and joy in her eyes had transformed and now reflected in the mirror as ever dangerous curiosity. The form of a woman, the experience of media beyond her years. Attention was easy, the energy overwhelming and the thrill infectious. A smirking grin at a precise moment. An intellectual dicussion laced with tempt. A stroll through the commons in the perfect pair of jeans. The world was her toy, and control was her dagger. Normalcy had become something for the weak. She learned to disconnect and function on a purely animalistic level. Emotions became a weakness, an invitation for pain. Seemingly in an instant, the girl was outwardly grown. Her trusted companion was left in the wind swept cornfields of her innocence.

Control of herself, control of others. She thought to herself, "Can I manintain control of others on a subliminal level? Is my one greatness my knowledge of how to get what I want? How far can I take this?" The grey area had entered her realm. "There is something intangibly different about me. I am not like everyone else in the world. Are there others that see human reaction and programmed responses? Is there a real companion for my soul?" Resigning to enjoy chemical release, the tests would continue in search of a spark of recognition. Now seeking the same distant reflection in the eyes of another. Silent realization crept in. The only restraint between her and truth was her own fear. Without fear, true lessons can be felt. Testing and reacting. Relating and conversing. Showing no fear and pushing the limits of accepability. Ask the same question twice. But the second time stand closer and gaze into their eyes. The answer invariably different. Predatory. Becoming the object of question, answered the question. Clarity is not the understanding of how the game is played, rather, why it is instinct to play. Standing at the edge of sanity, knowing evil and now experienced enough to house fear. Almost a woman, still a child.

Gazing this time into the stained mirror in the ladies room of a nameless bar in a nameless town. A breeze whirred to life from a rusted exhaust fan and caught her now brittle hair. The aroma of disenfectant and insect repellant rose through the tile, slithered around the darkened porcelain and assaulted her wondering eyes. The blood shot eyes of a woman on a mission searched for the peace that had once lived in the glass. Regret and self-loathing had long since entangled her silken reflection.

A little wiser, a little more weary, and outwardly mature beyond her years. "Now which way to go? Pursue an intellectual understanding, or a spiritual explanation?" Walking through fire and living to tell the tale of a young girl impatient and fearless looking for a truth that no one has.

Now just 17, she had become a woman.

Reflections

In the last year I have made a great many changes. And many more are yet to come. I joined the Gallery in March of 08. I had alread displayed at a few small functions around the parish, but this was huge for me. This was a chance to take things to the next level. As any artist, my attention san can be short-lived. I get really obsessed for a short time, and then I'm on to the next thing. I want to try everything, master it, and get on to the next thing. But I digress. Everything began to change. The company I worked for after being in business for over 100 years, was quickly becoming one of the first economic fatalities. I had to find a new job because I didn't have the resources to take over the company and run it as my own. It was offered, but I couldn't manage to secure funding without a good business model. And that's hard to do when given the economic outlook at the time. I started making plans to move home. I am desperately home-sick. That may be the first thing I should have said. It is very hard to leave all friends and family and move 900 miles away to a place ridden with manipulative, insane, mooching, in-ya-business in-laws. After 6 years of it, I had come to a breaking point. And then there was this ad in the paper. Sounded great. But I never get the job I want. I always come so close I can taste it. But never get it. However, I had nothing to lose. After 3 call back interviews it was apparent I was in the running. When I got the final call back for a 4th interview, I knew for sure. So here I still sit. A good job, friends, support of a community....but still I want home. See, the bitterness set in. I find small things to be a huge problem. So I have decided that I am the problem. Maybe I amnot the person I thought I was, Maybe I don't really want what I thought. Have I worked so hard to attain something that makes me un-happy? Or are my feelings well-founded? I am waaaay to rational a person to ask myself these questions. I know exactly how to remove myself from the equation and make the "Right" decision. But I don't know how to add myself into it. i feel so selfish considering my own needs or desires when making a decision that affects other people. I am so tired of living for other people. When is it my turn to make decisions based on what I want and need? When is it my turn for someone else to change for me? Why is it always me who has to switch positions or give something up?

Now i am just whining. I hate to hear myself do that. Enough of the therapy session. Back to reflecting.

I am posting a few photos of the friends I have made in the last year. I am still amazed to find people who truly want to hang out with me for no reason than to be my friend. I don't trust anyone, but I'm learning that it can be more beneficial to allow people in and feel their warmth than to shut them out and never know if they are sincere. I can take a risk that they will hurt me in some way. I think I will learn about myself better this way. 30 years old and I have no idea what I want or where I am going. But i have a great job at this time and so I will follow this path and see what happens. Leave it to fate. I just hope I am strong enough to survive what may come of it.

I Have Issues

It's Friday. I have alot of deadlines that I am up against. I really don't sit and blog at work. Really, I write them at night and then I read them back to myself. If they look like something that is good for publishing, then I hit the button. I have many drafts in my folder that may never see the light of day. I can't stop day-dreaming this week. I am consumed by this need to create something. A turtle in the ocean is what I have been painting this week. And it is very simple. Primary colors only. Amazing how brilliant a painting can be when the colors are kept unmuddied by mixing. Oils are luminescent anyways, but to use the raw color straight from the tube, it's amazingly bright. Portraits are great and that is what I have been doing alot of because I have a new commission that I need to start. But I need a break from the detail and constraints of creating something that I have little artistic control of. Maybe I am not meant for commission. I have a serious problem with authority. Any level of being told wahat or how to do something ....let's just say it ain't pretty. So I am giving myself a break. I am learning to do that more and more lately. No one else is going to give me a break. So I will give it to myself. Anyhoo, My turtle in the ocean is swimming and happy and bright and I may give him a crown just because I can. He may even aquire some friends before finished. Haven't quite decided on that. But if he does get some friends, it will be because I decided to paint it that way! So, that's my issue, one of them anyway. I promise to post a pic of my friendly turtle when finished. Thanks for reading!

My favorite part of the day

I have a favorite part of the day. It is a time when everyone else is asleep. It's just me, the remote, the computer, my paint brushes and the cat. I can't help but feel a bit selfish waiting for everyone else to fall asleep and evacuate the living room leaving me to my own devices. It is overwhelming at times with the news crackling thru the TV set and kids chasing the cat and hollaring at Mario and Luigi on the game television in the next room. I can't concentrate with all of the interferance. The noice becomes a constant buzz that is so unsettling that I swear it even blurs my vision at times. I need quiet and solitude in order to connect to that place inside of myself that is creative and intuitive and calm. Sometimes I wonder if I am living the life that I was meant to lead. But then I remember that without challenges and obstacles I get so bored that I tend to get myself into trouble. I need the constant chatter and activity in order to keep my hands and heart from the terrible tempations of boredom and thrill-seeking. The best thrill ride in the universe is the feeling of conquering an obstacle or meeting a challenge head on and coming out the other side "King of the Hill." I work long hours and have loads of mommy guilt for not being there for every milestone. But then again, I turned out just fine and I had a working mother. So, at the very least, maybe they will learn to toughen a bit and not be insecure. I want my boys to be proud of themselves and not be reliant on the encouragement of others. But somehow I have gotten off-track here. (It happens....alot!) I get so anxious for that solitude at the end of the day that I find myself day-dreaming in the middle of the day and having a hard time concentrating. I find myself planning my evening. What will I do tonight with my time? If I do nothing but watch the tube, then I have this terrible guilt the next day because I accomplished nothing. But I am then well-rested for a really late night the following evening. Maybe at some point I will give myself a break and really enjoy my favorite part of the day!

Louisiana on my mind

I have had so much fun in the past few days taking pictures and uploading at full size to see if I caught the light right or captured the sight before me. I want to share a couple more with the blogosphere. Let me know what you think!

A Couple hours and a Camera in Louisiana

So, out of boredom and because I wanted to be creative today. A little break from being mommy for a couple hours was nice also. But alas. I did get a couple of good shots. I'm not quite done looking at those just yet. I need to walk away and come back in a couple days. I will see them fresh eyes at that point. But I did find some areas of interest today. I went no further than 30 miles away from my house, but 30 miles is a long ways down a spagetti bowl of logging trails. There are literally place around here that are dark as night in the middle of the day because the forest canopy is so thick. I wish I had a camera capable of capturing the beauty in those areas! The pictures sort of speak for themselves. I threw in a couple of shots that are meant to illustrate to all city folk "How to know it's time to getcha ass out the woods!" Enjoy!












Authorities have been contacted to investigate the item wrapped in the blue tarp! CREEPY!!

ART FOR SALE! DIRECT FROM ARTIST!

Grow Love
Mixed Media Sculpt
$150 (Plus $20 Shipping)



Pre-Amble
18 X 24 Oil on Canvas
$250 (Frame included / Plus $20 Shipping & Handling)



By-Gone
10 X 14 Photograph
$65 (Free Shipping)



Front Porch Pickin'
14 X 10 Photograph
$60 (Free Shipping)



Hostile Take-over
8 X 10 Photograph
$75 (Free Shipping)



Accretion
10 X 14 Phtograph
$75 (Free Shipping)



Our Spot
10 X 14 Photograph
$50 (Free Shipping)



Nurture
10 X 14 Photograph
$75 (Free Shipping)

ART FOR SALE! DIRECT FROM ARTIST!

Revolving Life
10 X 14 Acrylic on canvas
Price reduced $SOLD(Free Shipping)



Electri-City
18 X 24 Mixed & Alternative Media
$SOLD



Center
18 X 20 Oil on Canvas
$SOLD (Plus $20 S & H)

Some stuff

So, these are a few items I have been working on and one that I did almost a year ago. I am out od wall space to keep all of this around the house. But it is nice to take a look at where I have been and where I seem to be going. Happy Viewing!

Profiles as Public Art?

So, I have been thinking about this all morning. So, as to finally get it out of my head, I will simply pose it as a public question. As an artist and especially as a Gallery member, I am under pressure to constantly create. If I am not churning out art work, then I am not fullfilling my obligations. This is alot of pressure. At work, I am completely consumed by the tasks of the day. Recently, I have been asked to create a twitter account for the office. This promted me to create one for myself as well. (Mostly because I am not sure how to attract followers and this was my attempt at having at least one follower for the office.) Now, I have a myspace, a blog and now a twitter account. The only account that I have not created a personalized progfile appearance for is the twitter account. It is time consuming and chosen images can say something about a person without words. So I am extremely choosy when it comes to profile layout and appearance. But why pressure myself to crank out artwork when I am already creating public art in the way of profiles? (By the way....who are all these people that have the time to kepp up with 10 different profiles on 10 different networking sites? OMG! I haven't even logged in to Myspace in a week!) In the end, I need a break. My profiles are to be my artwork this week. I will fine tune the appearance and paint myself as a renessaince woman. I can do anything I want....my profile says so!

Rushing with Oils

I have decided to challenge myself. I know that I can re-create a photograph down to the last detail. But why create something that already exists? I can draw pretty well. And I have an idea of the type of things I want to paint. The problem has always been getting them from my mind onto the page. I always find myself greatly disappointed with the result. It doesn't turn out at all like I envisioned. So I paint over it after getting really aggravated. So, I decided to teach myself to draw with my paintbrush rather than creating a pencil sketch and trying to "stay in the lines". After all, sketching and painting are two completely different mediums. So why try to make one adhere to the other? The subject I've chosen is something that has always captured my amazement. Super-cell thunderstorms. I want to teach myself by the end of June, how to paint ominous clouds that look realistic. I want to make a cloud so scary looking, the viewer can almost feel the straight line winds. Maybe even imagine a funnel dropping at any moment. That's my way of coping with a personal situation that has been the source of great anxiety. I will put the storm and my focus on the canvas. Maybe I can in some Freudian way, gain some strength from this method. I have huge decisions to make. The art will reflect my life for now. All storms pass eventually. I will seed my own clouds.

What does your art say to you?

I hear all the time that people should purchase art that speaks to them. I wonder what my pieces say to peeple. Does it evan say something that would translate into words? Hopefully not a single word response such as "juvenile." But an image / item can speak to someone on a level of pure emoption indescribable with mere words. I aspire to create like that!

Just another day

I don't think anyone knows this page is even here, and yet it makes me feel a bit better when I put my endless ramblings out into the world. Why is that? And how many bloggers have had this question? I imagine I have no original ideas anymore. Everything that I imagine has already been patented, said, discredited or pictorialized. Is it even possible with 4 billion people in the world with thoughts racing around the clock, that originalality even exists anymore? Or even better, are we somehow linked to someone we have never met but share the exact same thought process? Wow, I had a strange dream last night. And this is the result. I am running late as usual and kicking myself for not washing any laundry last night and putting myself wsy behind today and in clothes that I hate. I need a vacation, but for now it's just another day.

Life as Art

Without so much as putting a brush, pen, pastel or anything else to paper or canvas, I feel more like an artist lately than ever before. It has been at least a week since I was creative in any way other than writing/blogging and yet I feel like a master of my own domain. I am directing traffic throughout the day, remembering the smallest of tasks, completing projects with kuddos and beating all of Luigi's foes in the evening with the help of my two little gamers. I have even managed in all of this to keep hubby happy. The biggest masterpiece I have is myself. If I am broken or malfunctioning everything else is meaningless. I have to keep going because no one is going to do anything for me. Now, this may all sound very conceeded. But I have spent so much time absolutely kicking myself for the smallest bit of forgetfulness and the tiniest of errors, that it's days like today when everything is going well and I have pre-determined any obstacles and headed them off at the pass that I feel truly as if I am the artist of my own destiny. We shall see.

Executive Framed

My world is a collage of the ecclectic, mundane, wonderous, streneous, insane, amusement and glee. I feel a need to translate my "Seinfeld Moments" into images and my "{Blonde Moments" into topics of conversation which might just make them Seinfeld moments by admitting the utter braindead qualities that I occasionaly posses. I barely have the time to shower or play a round of Super Mario with my boys. Although, I would much rather play video games with my boys than shower daily. I guess my prioroities may be a bit askew when it comes to my boys. A routine! What a wonderful concept! Yeah Right. Not for me. Routines make me feel trapped. The same thing over and over again make me want to scream. This week I conducted a meeting, last week I researched retirement on the web until 2 am. Next week I wirk on a state grant. Today I am blogging because I deceided to paint the kitchen floor with the left-over catering that I was trying to get into the refrigerator. So, after cleaning about 10 pounds of baked beans off my shirt, pants, shoes and cell phone, I am now back at the office wondering how in the world I am going to get everything done that I need to do. And I have made a decision! I'm not doing any of it. I am going to go home and paint a pretty picture. It will be the most awesome thing i have ever created. I know this because in the past, when I am at my most stressed and feel this pressure in my chest because I have not created in a while. This burst of energy comes out of me. I am not afraid to paint badly, and I am not afraid of wasting a canvas. I just flow and feel and close out everything around me. No kids, no boss, no mayor, no DA, no meetings or caterers and no hubby! Just me and my brush. The canvas and the media. And then I make beauty. I end up with something that I didn't even know was inside of me. And then I can work. Then I can focus on tomorrow. Maybe I won't sleep a wink tonight. But it will sooooooooooooo be worth it!

Artist is state of mind rather than a Title

I have not been doing alot of "Traditional" artwork lately. I have been up at midnight melting things and soldering odds and ends together in a very strange way. I have even carved a juice jug into an odd sort of bouquet. It's not what I thought I would be doing a year ago. I thought by joining the gallery it would be about promoting myself and selling a few things. I am pleased to find that it is so much more than that. It's been about self-discovery, trying new things, pushing myself beyond my comfort level, and trying ut the friendship experience again. I have been closed off for so long trying not to let anyone get too close for fear of being stabbed in the back and hurt again. But I realize, that by isolating myself, I was avoiding the bad stuff that comes along with people, but I was completely missing out on the good that they have to offer. I've always been a bit mystical in my rational, and try to keep myself a step ahead of what people around me are thinking. But having this protective barrier up around me is exhausting. It feels so good to let it drop and trust people again. My friends call me to check on me out of heartfelt concern. They know they will get a call or visit from me if they are down. They encourage me when I kick myself too hard. No one can live by the standard that I hold myself to. And my friends remind me of that. So even though I have not produce3d a large amount of master quality oil paintings or sold a fortune in absolutely ingenius watercolors. I am okay with just being surrounded by like minded people. It's in my mind. It's the way I react or doin't react. It's the dreams I have, the translations I make in my own way. And it's the acceptance of the opinions of others, even if only on a level of filing away for future referrence. An accumulation of knowledge, experience, vision, insight, ignorance and rational. I used to feel strange calling myself an artist. Now I know that there is nothing else I would be more proud to call myself. Artists don't just create images or objects. They foster an intimate understanding and wish to further grow their knowledge of all things. I don't believe any one of us has any answers or knows any secret truth. But it's a state of mind and a willingness to travel the road in pursuit of it. Does any one us really know what forces make us who we are and give us our tendancies? Ho hum, I guess by this rational I could be called many things. So I have come full circle. I am an Artist.....and a slightly insane, rambling,philosphical face in a sea of imagination. And I should stop watching so much Discovery Channel. Thanks for reading.

Too Busy for Art!

It's amazing that I can get anything done as much time as I spend with my head in the clouds. I may have mentioned before that the gallery I belong is doing a recycled art show in June. This is new to me. But I creative enought to pull it off. I used to make dolls from socks and old clothing and costume jewelry. I made all sorts of things out of whatever materials I had. This was because I didn't have the privelege of having store bought art supplies. And I wasn't about to ask for anything. I just made do with what I had. On Wednesday evening I was extremely frustrated as everything I tried was not working out. I burnt my finger on the torch and cut myself with the wire I was attempting to cut. Then I was completely blocked. Nothing is more intimidating than an empty canvas or a clean desk. So Saturday...........I just went at everything I had with a soldering torch and hot glue gun. I cut up old chains, melted plastic silverware and tore up old blue jeans. I even melted a few walmart bags! But, now I have three pieces almost complete. Whether or not I will actually show these at a gallery is yet to be determined. I have to let them sit and just feel them out. They speak to me on some level at this point, but they are not screaming at me just yet. We'll See. However, I am very proud of myself! I overcame my own incessant inner voice. Got past my frustration and decided to just do it! And I did! And the best part is........I have a couple more ideas floatin around upstairs. I will post pictures soon!

Transfering mediums

This amazing thing happens sometimes when I listen to music. It can make me feel immensly emotional (Even if very briefly) to the point of crying, laughing, dancing, singing. I imagine if left alone for too long, I could truly go insane just from the emotional impact of music. I could handle isolation as long as I knew I could re-join society whenever I chose. But the music would push me over the edge. Am I alone in this? Something else affects me in this way. Being alone outdoors. I don't even have to be in a secluded area free from noise. I can stand in my back yard, within ear-shot of the highway and various other sounds and still feel it. It's indescribable. A connection to everything around me. I can smell the air, hear the birds, feel the sun and breeze. That too can make me very emotional. Maybe I'm special, maybe I'm crazy, maybe I don't really care. What I know is that I want to transfer this kind of physical feeling to a canvas. I want to frame the emotion and hang it on the wall for others to feel. I'm no "Tree-Hugger" or whatever the invisible label-givers call them these days. But I do feel as if eveything is connected and sometimes I can feel it. Another level of consiousness maybe? A gift as an artist by which I can Transfer Medium from emotional to 2 or 3 dimensional? Maybe I will find myself on this journey as an artist. Maybe I will find someone else. Maybe I will never know unless I keep going. Life is amazing, even when it's terrible.

My long weekend of Creativity

I came back and finished the day on Thursday so that I could get as much as possible done and relax on my long weekend. I guess I knew there was no other option for me. I am obsessive about getting things done ASAP rather than let them fester. So on Friday, I rested, didn;t do anything! That was non-productive, but nice. Saturday I cleaned the house and began to hunt small momentos while cleaning. Things that could be re-purposed, re-used, born again with a new focus. I may or may not have mentioned before that I have a show coming in June where the focus is recycled art. I have had a huge ancient copy macjine collecting dust on my front porch for nearly a year now. It's too heavy to move and I can't seem to make it function anymore. So now it is in a stage of de-construction. I found mirrors, wheels, magnigying glasses, springs, elecrtical nodes and much much more. I see a face with a looking glass eye. Wires protruding sending signals to the vital finctioning arteries and a digital display read-out where a mouth should be. As programmed as we are these days to compute and speak with programmed precision, it makes perfect sense to me. Then again, it may not to someone else. Sunday I celebrated Easter with my beautiful boys. We played video games the rest of the day until about 5-ish. Then it wasw back out to continue deconstruction. I have a plan now that involves chicken wire, plaster of paris, nodes, wires and if my experiment works, my piece of art may even be battery powered. I can feel the creative energy puling through me like a million cups of coffee. I think there mustbe someone else out there who obsesses over things the way that I do. And maybe not. But it was a great weekend and I am my way to another great piece of art, all my own.

Just Before a Long Weekend

I have a mound of files and papers and scraps of sticky notes, ALL with a task connected, strewn across my desk. Next week I have three meetings for which I have had almost no time to prepare. I can leave early today, and tomorrow is a holiday. But should I leave? Wouldn't the responsible thing be to stay and get done what I can? Decisions, decisions. I am very much looking forward to the long weekend. My boys and I chalk the front walk all the way from the street to the steps in front of the door. This is a tradition I started a few years ago when I couldn't resist the smell of spring anymore. I just had to get outside and create somethig. So, I told the boys that we have to paint the Easter Bunny a pathway so that he knows how to find our house and bring us Easter surprises. They love doing it. This year is the first time they are asking me, "Mommy, when are we chalking the sidewalk?" It makes me feel like I must be doing a good job as a mommy. They remember and enjoy the little things. That's Awesome in an age of video games and instant gratification! And it gets them creating alongside me. Does anyone know the reason for selling sidewalk chalk at Easter time? Is this idea maybe not as original as I think it is? So, you see, I have a million things to do as a responsible executive. If I don't get them done, I look like an idiot and my boss probably would look like an idiot as well. But my brain is already on weekend time. So, do I want to take off early? UHHH, YES! But will I? Probably not. I won't be able to relax on the long weekend if I am worried about the workload upon my return. I better get it gear!

This blogging thing......I don't know

So, now I have blogged. I don't feel any different. I don't have anyone wanting my autograph...LOL. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm Is anyone even aware that this page is here? I choose to draw today rather than blog. More productive and at least there's an audience for it. So, for the one person who may accidently find my blog, Thanks for Reading!

Pastel Powdered Manicure

So, it's raining again. Everything is soppy wet, muddy and the 45 minutes spent fixing my hair this morning was time wasted as even an umbrella is no match for 60 mph thunderstorm gusts. And yet, my hands are awash in chalky powdery mess. I have to deliver 3 pieces to my gallery by Saturday with a beast, animal or insect theme or subject matter. As I usually work in oils as of late, I have no time left to create something. Oils take waaaaaaaay too long to dry. So my first idea was to make papercuts and create a spraypaint masterpiece. No go! My plan was acutely flawed. So, I thought I would do something with pastels. I love the they blend and come alive with just a touch of water in critical areas. But it seems this plan as well is fatally flawed. You see, I have only the chalk pastels and in order to get the degree of detail that evidently I cannot live without, I need the pastel pencils. Living in the area I do, everything is mail ordered. I am having no luck with the messy, manicure killing, big, thick chalk pastels. So I have but one option remaining. I sit down tonight with a big sketchbook, pencils, markers, crayons, watercolors, and anything else that makes a mark and dries quickly. I love to create, but I am really not sure if I like creating on command. My lifelong problem with authority us showing again!

Day Job Daydreaming

So here I sit with my desk awash in Grant Progress Reports for the state and stacks of scribbled sticky notes each with it's own item to do. There is a cold cup of coffee and cell phone near the keyboard. And a storm rolling in from the western sky into the open door of my office. A thunderstorm capable of producing damaging.......la la la la la. I have turned off the radio and I can feel the approaching storm. I can smell the rain and hear the roll of thunder. Right now is when I am most motivated to create. In this moment I could create a masterpiece from the scraps on my desk. The grey newsprint to capture the threatening clouds and the yellow sticky notes to show the light refracting under the cloudline. I have markers and pens, pencils and white-out. I have coffee to stain in a ground cover color and past due stickers conveniently colored in blue and green hues. I have all I need right in front of me except the time and freedom to do it. So here I sit trying to produce a very important document and realizing that it's importance is miniscule compared to the beauty and natural wonder right outside my office door.

A World In My Mind

It never ceases to amaze and inspire me how the tiniest event or gesture can have a ripple effect and turn epic. Each and every one of us has a voice and a special purpose. Maybe I am getting older (Since 30 is far beyond the popular medias' definition of young.) or maybe I am simply maturing. It seems as though I have lost touch with the movements of the young. The feeling that all things are possible has somehow lessened over time. Having children and being responsible for them in every way. A loss of freedom and spontaneous gratification seems overwhelming at times. And then someone smiles at me or asks how I am. The trapped feeling lessens because I am reminded that I am making the right decisions. I am living right, and my family is healthy and safe and we have a home to relax and enjoy ourselves in. I used to imagine that I was all alone and that no one anywhere understood why I was un-happy. Then I realized that there are literally millions of people who feel this way. And I wasn't un-happy, I was un-grateful. A butterfly doesn't cry even knowing that it's time is short. It flies and goes about the instinctual tasks that it needs to do to survive. Small gestures really do make a difference. If, as an artist, I can illustrate or accentuate these moments and events so that people can see them and feel as if someone has just smiled at them, then I am happy. I want to embrace the small things in life and put aside the constant hum of the TV, radio, traffic and politics. We will all have to deal with the outcome of all of these things soon enough. As far as getting older, bring it on!