It seems that I will talk with anyone, and actually I do, but really I’m a scaredy cat who frets until I’m there and doing it.
Then I’m like.
Who are you? And what did you do with Deborah?
But not in that, Be gone from me Satan way.
In a good way.
I almost left the page, then I thought Do It! And so I did it.
It still makes my heart skip a little, but I’m sure there are worse things I’ll encounter.
Like my next trip to the dentist.
I also thought that as I’m pretty good at watching a video and picking things up through trial and error that perhaps I should save my money, but I think I really want to go mingle with like-minded people and see what happens.
Can’t be a hermit forever.
In other news.
The tank is back baby!
This is the old one going home to his empty friends
Doesn’t help calm the nerves that they put that bright red sticker on it.
And here is it’s replacement.
Looking a little lost with his clown nose.
Anyway he soon got right to it and we made a couple more necklaces.
It’s like my old nan used to say.
The back should be as good as the front.
Could do with a little more work under that second leaf on the right though…
Yesterday I ruined my painting.
This is it started.
I haven’t got a photo of it ruined as my darn phone keeps telling me that I have no storage.
It never used to have this problem so I think it’s all just a dastardly plan to get me to buy a new one.
They think I don’t know about their dirty tricks.
It’ll probably work though…
And now I’m off to Austin to visit B, my eldest.
We are going to have a weekend of watching movies, doing some stitching,
I’ve still not finished this.
And just hanging out.
And so I leave you with a Rumi quote.
Not really into all that touchy feely stuff, but this one kind of makes me feel very centered.
Now you might say that this is magical thinking at its best, but I know that when you enter the dark world of odd numbers there’s just gonna be trouble in store.
Just take a look.
1 3 5 7 9
Now you can’t tell me that all those odd numbers don’t look dark, angry, and downright depressed compared to their round and jolly even compadre’s.
2 4 6 8 0
O.K. so the 0 is a bit ominous…
Can’t see it? Then I can’t save you from the consequences of ignoring the possibility of imminent every other year danger.
But, I’m beginning to think I was wrong as so far 2016 has sucked, more so even than 2011 when both my mum and father in law died within a month of each other costing us a small fortune to go back and forth to the U.K. for their funerals. Not to mention the waste of time and energy it took to unpack from the first trip just to load it all back up again.
Oh, and let’s not forget the distress and anguish part.
To be honest this mess of a year did start back in December of 2015, as though it was saving up its winning card to throw onto the table right at the last minute – just when you thought you were safe – so perhaps that’s what set 2016 off on the wrong foot. But let me tell you, from now on the even years have got a lot of making up to do…
The story so far…
December – Cervical scare. Hospital procedure involving Victorian leg tights, deli cap, and stylish hospital gown. Waited a month. Nothing wrong…
Also in December – Kidney’s took a 50% function hit involving blood and pee tests – nothing like keeping your pee in the fridge alongside the dairy to keep life interesting. Two weeks of scouting out unsuspecting, healthy looking, kidney donors in the supermarket – only those in the fruit and veg section of course, didn’t want any of those vitamin deprived kidneys hanging out in my body, and the making of an extensive reading list to keep me going through dialysis.
January – Kidney tests came back A Okay for no apparent reason whatsoever except, I suppose, to keep the hypochondria fed and watered. This lead to a small smacking of the doctor to let him know that it sucked to be fooled into false diagnosis’s even though it wasn’t his fault. He should have known better than to pull his chair up that close to an anxiety ridden hypochondriac.
Also in January – Mammogram scare. Another month of terror. Hanging around. Tests, tests, and more test. Turned out to be a cyst… or did it. I can see that little blot on the landscape may well be hanging around in the depths of my overactive imagination for some time to come…
February – Ovary scare. Loads more tests culminating in the making of a, who get’s what, list. The studio was divvied out and preparations for the Viking send off in the pool were arranged. Couldn’t be doing with all the expense and ceremonious inconvenience of a regular funeral, rather a floaty, a large G&T, and then get the ol’ jewelry torch out for me.
March – Dad died. All of a sudden. No warning. No nothing.
April – Well this week really. Apparent heart attack… O.K. so that was jumping ahead a bit.
On Monday I went to the doctors having had chest pressure the whole week before. They wheeled me right down to the E.R. which was kind of embarrassing, and distressing as apparently there was a 6 hour wait! What! I almost decided to go home when my name was called. For some reason they like to check out the high blood pressure, chest pain, quiet, pale people sooner rather than later. So six tests and two days later I came home. Can’t say they weren’t thorough.
Turns out it’s probably anxiety, although I’m pretty sure it esophageal cancer. You know a hypochondriac is nothing if not vigilant…
So, taking into account that, alongside my dad, all those other lovely people have died. Bowie, Prince, Victoria Woods, Ronnie Corbett, to name just a few, 2016 pretty much sucks.
But, I know its number and where it hangs out so 2016 better be darn well careful from now on is all I can say…
So back to life…
Before the trip to the E.R. I finished the sad girl painting.
And this little lovely although I’m not enjoying how it looks like a bunny.
This, which seems a bit too chunky.
And just before all the excitement I began this
Which has a long way to go if it’s going to hang around with the others.
The afternoon they released me from you know where I started these.
And it was wonderful to get back in the studio.
I finished them yesterday 🙂
I call them my little freedom lovelies…
And now I’m putting chains on all of my older pieces in time for the art festival.
To me this is the most boring part.
So friends just to finish. I started this blog as a way to put myself out there. I wanted to show myself that it’s not worth living with a lack of confidence, and to face all of my insecurities. And it’s working. I’m growing as a jewelry maker and I found along the way that I wanted to share all of this, warts and all, so that anyone else who struggles knows that’s it’s o.k. and to just do it. In the long run, none of this matters.
So I share my mistakes, my anxieties, my hypochondria, all be it tongue in cheek. I am o.k. It’s all good. And I want to laugh in the face of it all (except for my dad) and just get on with making the most of it all.
None of this is meant to get you down or elicit sympathy, although chocolate never hurts…
A while back I decided to take the 100 faces painting challenge.
I know darn well that I never keep up with these sort of commitments.
So I’d only done two up until now.
And this one
But yesterday I fought all day with finishing these
I just started to get really bored with it all even though I know I’ve the art show coming up and need some more jewelry.
So eventually, after a good amount of moping around while eating all the mint humbugs even though they made me feel guilty because they’re really P’s and I stole them, I gave the jewelry up and started another face.
She’s a bit sad.
I might have to change her up a little so she doesn’t look as miserable.
I couldn’t do much with it as even though it hadn’t rained for hours the electricity went out around 5 p.m. and I couldn’t see what colours I was picking up in the dim light.
For a heart stopping moment I almost used a brilliant red for her eyebrows which in my honest opinion just wouldn’t have worked.
Perhaps that’s just me.
In other news I have a confession.
I didn’t get out of bed until 12.30 today
Just couldn’t be bothered.
It’s now 2 p.m. and I still can’t be bothered to do anything.
Even though the face is waiting, and the jewelry pieces are waiting, and, it seems, everything is waiting.
The tank ran out again. I think I’m averaging just over six months a pop which means that twice a year my life is on the line.
This time I made the boy come with me. He wasn’t too thrilled about holding the tank in-between his legs though.
Can’t imagine why.
So now that little tragedy waiting to happen is once again over and done with and we didn’t blow up and the possibilities of being a grandmother is still viable, I now have a full acetylene bottle all set to go .
In other news, my final trial is over. The bad mammogram is put to rest for another year.
That was a bit worrying to say the least.
A whole month of waiting!
My hypochondria was never so thrilled.
Is this how it’s going to be from now on I wonder quietly to myself. A slow body breakdown from here on out?
Can she cope.
I think not.
I do seem to have finally got back into the swing of things, however, and am enjoying the studio.
I even bought me some new toys to celebrate the left breast news.
The super quick-change hand-piece.
And the intriguing hammer hand-piece.
With all it’s friends and family.
Not sure I really need them, but as I said, I’m celebrating, and it’s my birthday next week.
Here are the lovelies.
And some sketches for the biggest stone alive…
This is a paper cut out of the stone which I printed out at the actual size.
I don’t usually do this, but as the stone is larger than I normally work with, 58mm wide I think, I wanted to get a proper feel for it.
It’s a prudent man cabochon for someone who might like to send me it to set.
I like the sketches, but I’m wondering if they will be too much.
I also grouped my houses together so that I can just look over when I’m making my jewelry and feel at home in the English sea-side towns.
I’ve always wanted to live by a harbour, in a little house, making my jewelry as the gulls scream and the fish smell.
Strange, but true.
I could also live in my fantasy land, although maybe that’ll be a bit freaky in a Wizard of Oz way.
I might start to feel sick with all the colour and shapes.
Too much sensory overload.
And it may well be possible that this strangely depressed bird might pluck up the energy to peck me to death in a moment of utter despair.
So for two months I had kidney disease and all that implies.
I was already sorting out what books I could read whilst having dialysis and secretly eyeing up unsuspecting, but totally suitable, donors and wondering just how one goes about asking for one.
Could you just bring it up over coffee perhaps?
Like, So hey, you look like you’ve got a couple of healthy kidneys packed away in there. Do you think you’d be up for sharing one?
I mean seriously, how hard could it be.
But then lo, all this became a moot point as, on my next trip to the doctor, as I sat in the bright, sterile, completely unfriendly room wondering if there was a hidden camera checking up that I wasn’t poking around with the ultrasound machine, I didn’t have it any more…
He didn’t know why.
He was sat so close to me as he showed me all the lab results, like I actually knew what it all meant, that when he came out with the good news I actually smacked his arm as I told him that I’d had a really fun couple of months wondering how long I’d got left on the planet.
Just to keep the anxiety above the extreme level I also had to have the old ovaries looked at.
Let me tell you… I was on the edge.
Not to waste a good ultrasound I had the sweet tech girl have a quick look at my kidneys just to make sure that they were actually in there and, for good measure I had her check out my liver also.
I think she enjoyed it as she doesn’t often get a chance to rummage around looking for all the other stuff when usually her clients are only interested in those tiny baby things growing inside.
Although to be honest my right kidney did actually look like a baby.
It had that hunched over, floating around look that they have – only in the wrong place.
Of course as she’s not allowed to tell me anything and as I didn’t know what the hell I was looking at, it was all a bit of a futile exercise, but at least I got to make sure that I had them and that they were right where they were supposed to be.
How the hell they can see anything, let alone make out what’s going on in there, is beyond me. It’s like when the doctor pushes around on your outsides and tells you that he can actually feel your organs.
I go home and have a go and they’ve all disappeared.
Crawled back into the murky abyss I suppose.
So what with that on my mind and the trip home I was completely off going into the studio.
It was enough to drag myself out of bed.
But that’s over now and for the past two or three days P has been well out of luck with any dinner being presented to him on his return from the big outdoors.
I mean how hungry can you get sitting behind a desk all day.
I did feel a little guilty yesterday though, but as I sat finishing up one of my new pieces, it didn’t quite stop me from texting him that the chicken just did not want to get into the oven.
Not my fault…
Here’s what I’ve been working on.
And before I could actually bother to even look at the jewelry table here’s what I tried to get back into the mood with.
A little colour.
Now I’m working on this,
Which was the cause of the chicken protest.
And I leave you with one of the reasons my life is so complicated.
A note from P.
I get them sometimes.
He leaves them for me so that I don’t forget that sometimes there are important things that need to be done.
It was the first time we didn’t have it at our house with just immediate family, so that was a bit strange, but still nice.
We got to meet a lot of people we didn’t know. Like at least fifteen of them!
There were twenty odd of us all told, give or take a kid, stuffed into the smallest house possible.
Good job I’m older now and not as shy otherwise it might well have done me in completely.
And so yesterday I took a moment to myself and went into the studio. I don’t think I’d been in there for about a week.
I almost forgot how to get there.
So I did some more to this.
I’m liking the mirror finish on the water.
This time around I used oil paints over the oil pastels.
I don’t know if you can do this, and perhaps the painting will spontaneously combust when I’m not looking, but I decided to chance it non the less.
Living on the edge people…
I did the same to this one and I’m quite liking this one too.
(Yep, I said that)
The one below is on canvas instead of board.
I prefer board as I’m not keen on the texture of canvas and it doesn’t seem to take the paint as well for me.
But I think that’s just me.
Everyone else seems to get good results on it.
The next two were worked on before the Christmas shut down.
This one, was remarkably orange when you last saw it.
And this one is of a field of Triffids in the Rolling Plains of the Lower Kowlandis.
Actually it’s a bit too hilly to be rolling plains, but we’ll go with it for now.
I’m still working on them all, as well as the five thousand and sixty-three others hanging out in the studio, but they’ll all have to wait now as I leave for the mother land tomorrow and have still to organized myself.
I just found out that my green card expires at the end of the month so I’m lucky as I’ll just about make it back into the U.S.
Nothing like checking out these things before you decide to travel is there.
I didn’t even think to check my passport, but fortunately P, being the only executive in the house, had it all under control.
Except I thought executives had peeps to do all that organizing stuff for them.
Most likely no one will work for him…
I’m sure it would have been o.k. though.
You can get all the paper work done on-line now and Spud is always willing to help out.
Except here we see her lying down on the job.
To be fair I think she’s become hypnotized by the psychedelic painting on the screen.
No excuses Spud.
And here are two new jewelry pieces.
I’m thinking of changing up this one because I can’t decided if I like the stone combination.
Isn’t that lavender stone beautiful?
And I think that’s a piece of Royston Turquoise
I can’t remember what the lavender stone is right now.
And I also made this one (below) which I quite like.
This is a nice piece of turquoise also.
And so all that’s left for me to do is leave you with Nutmeg, who doesn’t quite understand why the orange seems to be bigger than her head.
And Wally contemplating the bananas
And Pickles who has definitely eaten all the pies over the holiday.
Save yourself girl. Eat more fruit…
And so I wish you all a Happy New Year – when it comes to you.
But before I posted it yesterday I took another photograph as I wanted to show you the back of the bracelet.
I love making the backs almost as much as the front.
And I started another painting.
I’ve begun to realize that I’m a starter painter and not a finisher.
I must have about fifty of the darn things hanging around.
I’ll be that crazy old woman who leaves behind so much stuff that her kids have to pull their hair out deciding what to do with it all.
The cats must be attracted to weird start-up people because this is how I wake up most mornings.
On my side with at least two cats balanced on top of me.
Glad they’re comfortable.
What to do today?
I always wake up at a bit of a loss really.
On the weekends P watches his football team lose.
This is them running away from the ball.
I used to hate football, but now I love listening to it.
There’s a special football noise that reminds me of home and it’s kind of comforting.
It comes with some danger, however, as I’ll be sitting here in another room, happily dribbling out my thoughts to anyone who cares to read them, and I’ll either hear despondent groans, or loud euphoric yells of victory which make me jump out of my skin.
Fortunately the latter happens rarely.
Good ‘ol West Ham!
You go boys…
So I’m sitting here wondering what to do today when I know full well it will involve the studio.
I’ve been thinking pottery which kind of annoys me as that’s a whole new ball game when it comes to disappointment.
Worse than the painting as at least you can change a painting where as there’s no hope for a pot once it’s fired except to smash it up and make mosaics.
I don’t want to make mosaics so let’s hope that little urge passes soon.
So all that’s left to say is a happy Sunday to you all and may your football team always win.
But don’t forget to put the ear plugs out for those of us who don’t care…
I think I shall call it – Blinded by the Light of the Glorious Hills.
I’m determined to persevere with the darn paintings.
Every so often I think I’ll have a go and then spend the day wallowing in and out of disappointment and moaning to P that I can’t do it.
I think he’s kind of over it.
So today it’s back to the jewelry before the kids come over.
As Thanksgiving has never been that big a holiday for us, especially as we’re English and have no family over here for us all to get together with and make it special, I told the kids that if they wanted to spend the day with their significant others who are American and have deep roots in this wonderful tradition, I would be O.K. with that so long as I get to see them all today.
Of course, I forgot all about S who has no significant other and who bemoaned the fact all day that he had no turkey.
And, of course, as soon as the girls said O.K. that’ll be great, I felt completely abandoned.
And I felt bad that I had made this Thanksgiving arrangement without consulting P.
We got to go to see James Bond, which was almost as delicious as eating a turkey leg.
Afterward we thought we’d top off the day and pick up some Indian takeaway, but what d’ya know, even they were closed for the holiday.
We had to go home to cheese on toast with S giving me the sly, so it doesn’t matter to you that I’m an American, look.
He had beans on toast.
A traditional English feast so I don’t know what he was complaining about anyway.
So our first non traditional Thanksgiving is over with to which I can only tell you that it has made me very grateful that I have family to miss and that next year I will be happy for everyone else to decide what they would like to do instead of trying to make sure not to upset anyone with wanting my grown ups to be with me only.
Here’s my latest piece.
Made with beautiful turquoise that warms the soul.
Thank you for your nice comments Patti, they made me feel good.
I hope that everyone who celebrates had a wonderful Thanksgiving.
Not to be defeated I went on to make a bigger, better, stronger,
So that the first Pathetic Lump would have a friend and not feel so alone in its patheticness.
Little do they know that their friendship cannot last as it’s back to the flames with them.
As soon as I can be bothered to go through the whole process of making yet another mold.
Don’t fret for them my friends as once they stand at the crucible’s edge they will happily sacrifice themselves to the inferno knowing that other forms may come into being.
If the form master can get her act together and figure out how to do the darn thing.
Actually I think I’m close.
It’s just the sprig that needs sorting out is all.
Too much silver is trying to force its way into that little tube and starts to cool before it can fill the mold. I just get too nervous when I’m carving away the sand in case I hit the mold and mess it up.
Obviously I’m nowhere near it and can dig out another centimeter at least.
Onwards and Upwards.
We will never surrender.
In other news.
The painting, or at least one of them, is coming along.
I call it,
‘I can be a little harbour if I want to so leave me alone and get on with your own stuff why don’t you.’
I’m just going to figure out how to make the houses look not so silly and then I do believe I might even say that I have finished it.
I know right!
I bought me a cup.
Ain’t it cool
Off to make the new generation of Pathetic Lumps now.
So I got this far and then decided I was bored with it.
So I moved over to the jewelry area and half heartedly played around with some sketches and stones.
And decided on the spider one.
Even though I knew that it really wasn’t ever going to be the same as the drawing.
Just to step it up a bit I used one of my new stamps on it.
And then soldered it onto a back plate that was way too large for it.
That annoyed me as I usually pay a lot of attention to the amount of silver I waste to the point that I often have zero wiggle room to work with which also annoys me because then it’s touch and go that I’ve enough silver around the piece to do what I want with.
Guess the search for a happy medium continues…
Now I will share with you a tip for what to do with all your old pick sticks.
I don’t know about you, but after a while my picks start to loosen from their wooden handle. Even though I try to ignore it for a while they eventually start to swivel in the handle when I’m doing the picking thing with them.
I still try to ignore it, but then it just begins to get ridiculous and I can’t do a thing with them.
That’s when I get excited because I remember that hey! I can just buy a new one.
I’m a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
So, not one to be wasteful, (apart from the huge amount of silver waste above), I keep the pick ends and use them to prop up pieces when I’m soldering.
Anyway, long story short, it all looks good here, but the soldering flopped due to the funkness and then I had to go in to make dinner…
Not before I added a bit more to the painting though.
So… that’s it.
In other news, while I was bored with it all and in one of my funks, I bought a new table top to add to the jewelry bench area and now it feels more complete.
I’m telling you, that small Swedish store is a blessing when you need a funk distraction.
Now my jewelry area is fantabulous.
And I feel very fortunate.
And just so the painting side of the studio didn’t feel left out I bought it a new table and drawers also.
That side is still a bit of a mess, but I’m working on it…
But look at all my pastels!
They have a happy home…
AND last, but not least, I have to tell you that I’ve hit another milestone.
It all started when I stumbled across a series on Youtube called JTV Rock Star Designer because I was too bored to bother going into the studio and needed some inspiration.
I’ve suffered through all six episodes so far, and now have to wait until next week to find out who the two finalists will be. I think the winner gets to design a jewelry line for JTV.
I’m actually very surprised at how horrible the jewelry is and that, in the six hours they’re given to complete a piece, they can’t seem to make something that looks a little more professionally finished, but I suppose they’re under a lot of pressure. Also they’re only given half an hour to come up with an idea. That would be the hardest part for me as I generally make it up as I go along.
They’re also given some pretty gruesome materials to work with.
I’m not particularly impressed with the show, but of course now I have to finish watching it.
Then I discovered the artist videos and I love them.
It makes me want to go back to art school.
I went to Winchester School of Art in the U.K. What I wanted to be was a painter, but somehow I ended up in the sculpture department. I still would like to be a painter, but I’ve never given myself enough time to really get into it and now I just end up making piddly paintings which I enjoy, but which aren’t real paintings in my opinion.
Now these artists are making me a little sad that I never really gave myself to it.
I did love making the sculptures. I especially liked working out how the darn things would actually stand up and not kill someone.
I still think about making a sculpture of a woman sitting with her beautiful legs crossed in her beautiful designer clothes using nothing but used fake finger nails. I mean, what do they do with all of them once they’re done. I imagine that there are bazillions of them, in all shades of lovely, somewhere out there filling land fills and waiting to destroy our world.
Perhaps she could be having drinks with a refugee.
So I got my degree and then, nothing.
Well, there was the marriage part, and then the kids part, so it wasn’t exactly nothing.
Now it’s my part, and I’m really enjoying it.
Problem is that I’d have to get up before yesterday and go to bed after tomorrow, to be able to do all the things I’d like to.
Just pick one laddie!
Anyhow, so while I’ve been away I’ve been dreaming of all the things I started out to be and how I need to start being them.
The time is now people!
We just need to get down and be the people we know we are inside and stop fussing around with all the other stuff.
I came across the 100 day project and thought why not.
Trouble is I didn’t know what I’d want to do for a hundred days.
I’m not usually up for challenges as I believe they are set ups for failure, but I thought, hey, I might give this one a go.
So I decided I could either:
1. Make a piece of jewelry every day, but as I pretty much do that already it kind of seemed a bit like cheating.
2. Clean a little part of the house every day… Nah. Don’t think so.
3. Stop drinking wine for a hundred days.
That would definitely be a set up for failure.
4. Take a photograph.
5. paint a picture.
6. Create a doodle.
Etc., etc., etc…
I could do all of these things, but my dad’s coming to visit within the hundred day period, and my sister, and I don’t want to take up my time with them. It would have to be something I can do that doesn’t mean going into the isolation tank for long periods of time.
And, of course, number 2 would just about do me in and that wouldn’t be fair to my visitors, or to me.
So I chose Cornelius.
My little botanical book?
The Ledgers Ledgendof Cornelius Audenberry III.
Intrepid Explorer and Royal Botanist to HRH Significanta Regina, Queen of Spry.
I started it when I was creating a run of triffid paintings.
Of which, you can be assured, there are many more.
And of course each triffid begged for a story.
Well, o.k. they didn’t actually beg, but rather was given one whether they liked it or not.
And so began Cornelius’ adventures to document the wildly fantastic flora of the Copstan Islands.
Of course his voyage on the Encumbrance had to be postponed due to his narrator taking all of the time she could be writing making jewelry instead, and whining about the house keeping, so to Cornelius the 100 day project seems to be a brilliant idea.
And one that I can easily do when my dad and sister come.
At first I thought I’d give myself a word or page goal for each day then I realized that I really just needed to write anything and not worry about giving myself rules.
So today is day four.
And I’ve already discovered a new member of the crew.
I usually get caught up in grammar and spelling and reorganizing the words, but this time I am simple writing it down.
One day at a time.
Here’s a picture I’m working on because I was getting a little bored with the jewelry.
It’s got nothing to do with Cornelius as this is an entirely different world which he hasn’t discovered yet.
I had to have a bit of a tidy up yesterday as it was all getting out of control.
Even I can’t operate under these conditions, and, believe me, I tried.
I truly think that this is what my brain looks like. Cluttered with everything going on at once. No wonder I get nothing done.
I have to ignore the outside world just to survive.
Now it looks a little calmer.
I can feel my anxiety settling down as I look at it.
A couple of deep breaths and now I’m ready to perform surgery.
God that’s organized!
Even the, lets pile everything on here because I don’t know what to do with it, table is looking spiffy.
I’ve almost frightened myself now.
Except for this complete and utter mess I could almost consider myself cured.
(No hope for the wicked).
P.S. Just so you know, the turquoise is causing trouble.
To be fair, the turquoise is set nicely, but the design just isn’t doing anything for me.
Have to have a rethink.
However, I did make a nice pair of earrings which I also had a lot of trouble with but I enjoyed figuring out.
I’m never going to make any money from doing this stuff as it takes me all day to make anything worthwhile.
It’s all in the process though, and, (thank heavens), I enjoy that.
Here are the earrings.
Every time I soldered something new onto them, something else popped off. I really should start using the medium solder as well as the easy solder. I have it but … (I was going to give you a reason for not using it but honestly don’t have one. It’s hanging on its hook all ready and waiting).
Also, one of the gems popped out when I thought I’d finished with them. I think I’m a little too gentle with setting them. It worries me that I’m going to scratch them. I think the more I do it the more confident I’ll get, however, so I’m not too concerned.
Not quite as cold as some people here in the U.S., but cold enough for me.
I don’t operate well in the cold. I tend to sit and stagnate, and get colder and colder, and more and more paralyzed.
I really wouldn’t survive the End of Days when the ice covers the earth and all that terrible stuff that happens in The Day After Tomorrow. I would just lie down in the middle of the road and die.
Probably get eaten by the starving wolves first.
And then, the very next day, the sun would come out again and melt all of the ice, and if I’d only just hung on, one more day, everything would have been alright, and I would be warm and get on with my life and lived to see my grandchildren, and lived peacefully until the next disaster happened, at which point I would probably lay down and die again.
I’m a bit of a defeatist that way.
What is happening with the weather anyway.
We’re freezing. California’s droughting, and England’s sinking. And that’s not including the rest of the world.
Really best just to stay in bed.
I had to say goodbye to Spencer the One Eyed Wonder.
He had a good life.
Look at that eye. He might just have had one, but it was a beautiful one.
And I’ve been painting.
Most of them aren’t finished because I’ve given up painting again.
I’m not good at it.
But look at this one by Jean Miro.
Why is this one good 🙁
I do like Jean Miro though.
Big difference here.
So, it’s back to the jewelry for me.
This is Chrysoprase.
And this stone is Prudent Man Plume Agate.
If you don’t hear from me for another long while it’s probably got cold again and I’ve lain down with the wolves.
The Yellow Spotted Wimple Head is one of the more remarkable species of plant on the Higher Kowlandis. As seen here, it appears to have a symbiotic relationship with the Lesser Open Mouthed Gargle Spore, which you can see is attached to the Wimple Head’s stem causing the larger headed plant to droop significantly. As to why this relationship exists Cornelius Audenberry, along with his more experienced assistant, Dudley Hargrove, has simulated the plants’ exact environmental conditions in the Palace Greenhouses. It is in these greenhouses that they intend to cultivate more than one of the wild plants they have brought home from their latest expedition to the Bora Kowlandis Islands so as to enable them to continue studying these fascinating plants.
This particular variety of TendrillusBoutonius is found on the rolling plains of the Copstan Region of Middle Kowlandis, and, as unfortunately discovered by Audenberry’s field hand, Dudley Hargrove, is poisonous to the touch.
Dudley, now fully recovered from his agonizing experience, has vowed to, ‘never be within three feet of this godawful specimen again.’
Christmas has now taken over. I spent yesterday decorating the house and doing some shopping chores, all the while fighting not being able to get into the studio. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s not worth the struggle.
It’s a bit like trying to read the newspaper when the kids are little. You might as well just give up on the idea completely and settle into not fighting it.
Decided I didn’t like the orange half way through.
Thought it would take forever about two thirds through.
Got fed up quilting it.
Felt sad when it was all over as now I have nothing to quilt.
Decided perhaps the orange was o.k. after all.
Thought it was a silly quilt and who the hell would want it in their house.
Realized it was for a five year old, and that perhaps she would like it.
Got told (several times) by that man who lives in the house with me that it would cost a fortune to post and that he’d take it back with him when he goes back to England in January for a business trip.
Got defensive about getting my Christmas gift there on time.
Got told again.
Decided that perhaps he was right.
And finally …
Bought this for Hope’s gift instead.
(Come on. How cute is that!)
She’ll still get her quilt, but as a, because gift, instead of a, Christmas gift.
We all have to pick our battles.
In the meantime, I’ve still been drawing my ‘why’ drawings.
But I don’t know why.
Perhaps they need to be quilts.
I’m still worried about the Philippines 🙁
I go to bed every night loving how comfortable my bed is.
I wake up, amazed that I can shower every day in hot water.
The power went out the other day due to a storm, and I appreciated how lucky I am to have electricity.
Now. Believe me when I tell you that I’m not a sappy, let’s all hold hands together and sing Kumbaya in voices just off tune enough to make you want to throw up a little, sort of person. (Although that’s o.k. if you are) (Except for the throwing up bit) (And the fact that I might just have to leave you to it and run away from you quickly bit). I’m English for heaven’s sake. A true cynic if ever there was one. But perhaps I’m just getting a little soggy in my old age.
Can’t do the suffering any more.
Can’t do the, what the hell is happening here, any more.
I’m just going to have to stop listening to stuff like this.
Because, no matter how much it has always been one of my favourite songs, it’s just not good for my mental health any more.
I traced the finished shape on some sticky back clear film (which I forgot to photograph) but here’s the general shape
Next I wrapped the stone in bezel wire.
And then everything went to pot and I forgot my good intentions of showing you my process and delved into the world of turquoise jewelry design ponderings until –
lo and behold
So now all I have left is to present you with this.
And its story.
Today Marcos Haverbrook, Royal Jeweler to HRH Significanta Regina of the Kingdom of Spry, made this outstanding piece to commemorate the upcoming Festival of Awkward Flowers which is to be held in honour of Cornelius Audenberry III, intrepid botanist to the Queen. Audenberry arrived safely back from his latest expedition to the small islands known as The Bora Kowlandis last month and has since been documenting his discoveries with the aid of Haverbrook, and Trevor de Manous, Royal Painter. The Bora Knowlandis, which are located in the Black Fur Waters of the Jinta Ocean, is home to hundreds of extraordinarily rare botanical species, including the Green Bellied Corfunculus which has been so beautifully captured in Haverbrook’s exquisite work as seen above.
Also to be shown at the festival will be a selection of de Manous’ vivid representations of Audenberry’s field sketches. Including this one of the Startled Bee Trap which Cornelius found growing near the north shores of the third island known as Lower Knowlandis.
The Festival of Awkward Flowers is to be held next month in the Royal Gardens.
But, because you still want to play you gouge yourself with one of these.
Things then go from bad to worse until you give it up and go lay down on the sofa to feel super sorry for yourself yet thankful you haven’t cut your fingers off completely.
After a week of putting up with the coughing and aching and nose blowing I eventually braved all the sick people at the doctor’s office and got myself some antibiotics. You know you can get really sick waiting in that waiting room.
Here are some things I attempted to work on in the meantime.
You know, all I can say about the painting is that I really enjoy it.
There’s nothing more redeeming in it than that. My hopes of becoming a good painter are fading fast and I’ll just have to give up hoping to become brilliant at it for Lent.
Oh. That’s passed hasn’t it? So O.K. next Lent.
And here is Spencer protecting the quilt table.
Just when I decide the quilt is back on I find the room filled with kids back home from college stuff. Including a queen sized mattress belonging to the kid that quit her job and decided to come home.
Man. Will I ever get rid of them!
So, mattress picked up and leant against the wall I buckle down to picking up my quilt from where I left off, but Spencer has other plans.
It’s one obstacle after another in this house.
Good job I love him.
So I’ve been sick and very homesick. Fairly depressed really. But deep down I know that if I just stopped thinking about what I don’t have I would be able to see what I do have, and start living my life here as if it were my home.
After all it has been twenty-four years now.
Maybe I should stamp this on my forehead.
Oh, I made $500 this week for Africa 🙂 Now, that puts feeling sorry for myself into some perspective.
So, moovin’ on, before it all gets a little overwhelming in the, what the hell’s happening to the world, department, here are a few things I’ve been doodling.
I call this my, What in god’s name are you aiming for here then, period.
But here’s a relatively normal one.
O.K. perhaps marginally normal.
So as my trip to Spain looms nearer, my life has become more and more fraught with anxiety. Who on this planet wouldn’t want a trip to Spain you might wonder? Well, except for the Spaniards that answer would be – me.
The reasons being …
1. I have to board an airplane. Fortunately I have been saving up my Xanax stash for just this kind of emergency.
2. Not only do we have to land in England, because that’s where all my relatives live and it would be a bit rude to go to Spain and not pop in and say hi, we then have to land in Gibraltar.
Which, according to the t.v. programme, The Top Ten Most Dangerous Airports in the World, is one of the top ten most dangerous airports in the world. I think I’m going to ban t.v. from my entertainment lineup and take up drinking instead. (Oh wait, I already do that).
And yes, the airport does cross the road, but apparently the danger comes from the wind currents that come around that big hulking rock.
And I’m sure the fact that the runway goes straight into the sea doesn’t help much either.
After that we hire a car and go to the part of Spain where my brother in law’s wedding is to be held.
NORMAL people, wouldn’t make their favourite sister in law suffer like this. Just sayin’
3. I have to buy clothes for the wedding.
I’m not going to go into this here, but as I’ve not been able to get out of my black t-shirt and jeans look for years and years now, this is proving to be a bit of a problem. You see, black t-shirts and jeans means that people don’t look at you, and you can move about undetected, and unbothered, and just do your stuff without having to worry about it. Weddings are not conducive to jeans and black t-shirts – funerals are O.K. however.
So, except when I’ve been ignoring the whole darn thing, I’ve been working on getting over it. I’ve concluded that I just need to bung something not black and not jeansey on, and simply shut my eyes through the whole day. If I can’t see anyone, they can’t see me – right? Oh, and there’s always the alcohol.
4, We have to fly back from Gibraltar. (Did I mention that it’s one of the top ten most dangerous airports in the world?)
5. We have to fly back from London.
This all involves landing you understand.
So, I’m off to the mall now with N who is NOT the best person in the universe to shop with as she’s as insecure as I am. I’m sure we’ll be alright, and if we’re not, there’s always the alcohol.
And here is a little picture of a happier child in need, if there is such a thing, just so I don’t leave you miserable from the Care picture above.
Last night Robert Downey Jr. looked away from me with abject disdain because I failed my history exam. He was my professor, I was at university, and, for the second year in five, I had flunked my exams because I hadn’t been to class, read the books, written the essays, etc. etc. etc. Same old, it’s too late to fix it, scenario.
And that, people, is what watching the Iron Man 3 trailer can do to a fragile mind
You have been cautioned. Watch at your own peril.
So we went to see a movie, and as no one could make up their mind between – aliens, bank robberies, terrorist or the tried and true psychological thriller, we let P decide, and terrorists it was (see here). (I would have gone with the psychological thriller, but that’s just me). I enjoyed it insofar as it satisfied my need to beat the c*^p out of something, but really, the whole time I was in the cinema I felt really anxious. Was the guy sitting next to me – the one with the creepy, fired up body language – going to get out his gun and shoot us all. I’d be the first to go of course, and I still have to fold the laundry – so unfair. Because that happens now, and when we go to see these movies that get us all riled up and defensive I really believe it changes us. Even I don’t want to buy a Kia now because we have to shun Korea (O.K. so Kia is South Korean, not North but you get the point). Just in case you didn’t, the point is – what’s that about! It’s not cool is what it is, and it’s not the someone I want to be, but it creeps up and gets us, and before we know it we’re those people we don’t understand. You know, the ones full of hatred and fear and anger.
And then there’s the, let’s get a quick laugh in, lame jokes while our heroes are standing over the wasteland of (their own) dead people. I don’t know, but to me that just seems to make a mockery of – well, humanity really.
I don’t usually feel this way. I enjoy a good, beat ’em up, action movie as much as the next person, but I did wonder if we wouldn’t benefit a little more from watching a multicultural drama that perhaps showed more of our traditions and way of life so that we could better understand each other rather than the same old, us and them, storyline. The world’s a pretty interesting place after all.
Perhaps I’m just getting old. Man! Just another thing to add to my Monday woes …
O.K. shake it off people. Time to lighten up.
Update on the painting.
Old one finished.
O.K. now that I’m looking at it here – what are those love hearts doing? They need to get out of there quick before I go over to the other side completely, and those two houses down bottom. Hideous.
Did I ever mention I have trouble finishing anything? Or liking it come to that.
Here’s one waiting for its next step.
Let’s see how long it takes to ruin this one.
And here’s that one I started a couple of days ago.
It’s kind of in its, naaah, stage. Like – what exactly was you aiming for with this one?
And here, we have the beginnings of a new one.
Is it time to throw away the brushes again, is my question.
So, today I am going to clean all my jewelry in preparation for the upcoming art festival.
How ’bout you?
Strange how sometimes something pops up when you’ve just finished writing your, moping about wallowing in the negative, blog post that’s just the ticket.
We’ve definitely got some Pepto Bismol stuff going on, and it’s pretty boring on the whole, but I haven’t quite given up yet, although I’m sorely tempted to set the oil pastels on it, which is a sure-fire way for it to end up in the trash.
Here’s its progress.
Now, to tone down the antacid and try to get a little excitement back.
On a side note, S, in his rebellious stage, painted his bedroom Pepto Bismol pink a few years back.
Last laugh on him though as he had to live with it for a year before I let him paint it back to a more manly shade of – well, anything really.
Can you imagine. It makes me want to throw up just looking at it in this painting. I couldn’t cope with waking to it each morning. Probably explains why he went through his falling asleep on the couch period.
It doesn’t take much for me to want to have a go at everything.
Give me a day at an art festival and I come home elated, and depressed at the same time.
No time to do it alllll.
Now I have to paint, make a mosaic – but first fire up some pottery to make it with, and make more quilts. All that, and the jewelry still needs me, and I have a strange hankering to get to some flea markets quick, because I just know there is a new adventure waiting for me there.
I lost my Corel when I dropped my old laptop and, of course, couldn’t find the c.d. to upload on this new one, or move over the one I have from there to here. So last night, in a fit of abandon, I bought a new one. Not the free, little, you can play but you can’t know all my secrets, Corel that I had before, but the real, yes I’m going to cost you some (read loads of) money, but you know you want me, one.
To practice on it I’ve made me a sketch which I’m now going to go out to the studio with and attempt to relay in acrylics and perhaps oil pastels, depending on how bad the acrylics decide to mess up. For sure the oil pastels will follow quickly in the acrylic’s footsteps and everything will end up in the bin.
Prepare yourselves for moaning and groaning and the same ol’, sorry for myself giving up painting again, scenario.
You’ve got to know it’s coming ….
Don’t ask me what’s going on here, but it looks as though the San Andreas fault has bust its sides and squidged up those poor houses again.
Or, is it allergies? Stranger things have happened. I do live in Texas you know, and suddenly, all that green stuff is laying about, conspicuous in its innocence (to the trained eye), on all available surfaces.
This, and those wind turbine things, remind me of the late great science fiction books. The turbine things are the new and improved War of the Worlds aliens. Sleek in design yet even more sinister in their silent, never moving way. They just bide their time, collecting the wind so to sniff out human happenings, looking, but not looking, and, all the time multiplying until, before you know it, they’re everywhere, like in Sweetwater, TX.
(Actually, that’s not Sweetwater, but yet another example of alien infiltration on the outskirts of a doomed Texas town. Who will be next?).
And the pollen? Well, that’s obviously some kind of insidious microorganism waiting patiently for us to inhale them into our bodies, so that they can use us as a weapon to fight the wind aliens and continue their quest to take over the universe. Some of them will be wasted, of course, but it’s a sacrifice they are willing to take.
For them, failure is not an option …
As for Inspector Lynley, I was finally allowed to see the connection between the baffling – why are you telling me this – sub story, and the main story. I must admit it was in a bit of a ‘duh’ way, like I really should have seen it coming. But, as I’m not really that invested in the story the connection caught me off guard and it ended up more as the ‘boom boom’ part of a bad joke. (Can’t really sound that out in words so you’ll just have to work with me here).
I still haven’t finished listening to the story, but we all have to suffer in our own way.
On a lighter note: I burnt a hole in the studio counter when I put the nitric acid into a ceramic dish, (don’t judge me – it said I could). It was obviously not the right kind of ceramic dish, I think because it was old and crackly. I just thought, wow, that nitric acid evaporates quickly, but no – it had seeped right through the bottom and now I have a humongous area of molten formica counter top to forever flaunt my failures. It’s as though one of those alien versus predator things has dribbled its caustic saliva onto it.
And, the moral of the story is …
Never play with acid when you’re in a funk!
I’m telling you, this mood better change quick otherwise I’ll have no studio left.
Sometimes I ignore it and just don’t look over at that whole other side of the studio, you know, the one with all the exciting colours patiently waiting to play.
But, I know it’s there, because it’s niggling a hole in the side of my head.
So today I’m going to get to it – it’s going to be a painting day.
Lighten up girl. Inspector Lynley is still half heartedly trying to solve the graveyard murder, which is a convenient place to get murdered in if you ask me, and as I only listen to the story when I paint, he’s pretty much been dragging his heals over the whole thing.
It’s time to put a stop to this story before anyone else gets hurt.
Actually, I’m not really enjoying it, it’s more something to listen to really. It does kind of take the painting anxiety away a little by dragging me into it’s (boring) drama, a bit like taking a xanax really, although it’s been going on for so long now that if someone doesn’t tell me who did it soon and explain to me how the whole little sub story about the toddler murder fits in to the thing, someone is going to hear about it.
So I’m off out now to paint and listen. I’ll let you know how the whole sorry mess turns out … if it turns out.
A little something for you to mull on while you wait.
Come on. You know you want to try it, if only to laugh out loud because you knew it wouldn’t work even before you tried it.
The clue here is (repeat if necessary), although the whole fizzy science experiment thing does sound rather exciting.
The first sentence that made me feel as though perhaps this wasn’t going to be as tedious a task as when I first attempted to read it, waaaay back in school, was:
“If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him …”
Really that’s only part of the sentence, but you’ve got to love that word – gorgeous? There’s something, I don’t know what, about it when used here, by a man, toward a man. It smacks of jealousy to my mind, or contempt. Perhaps admiration, but I don’t think so. He’s probably merely sharing an observation, but what a great introduction to this man. I know immediately that I don’t want to like him, but probably will because he’s going to be all charismatic and charming, and we’re going to fall into his trap …
Either that, or I’m way off base and, as usual, am living in my own little made up world of what I think things should mean.
It reminds me a little of the way Patricia Highsmith writes about Ripley. Now, there’s a creepy fellow …
Anyway, I’m reading it because I can’t go to see the movie until I have, and the movie doesn’t look as dreary as the book seemed to be when I was a kid.
In the rest of the news: I spent yesterday painting. Sounds good fun but it ended badly. Going out there in a minute to throw all my brushes away.
I had a bit of a moment yesterday with the whole Nobel Peace Prize thing so I’m bringing it back down today.
I think it might have had something to do with the birthday champagne the night before, denial of my new age, and also the sugar rush from the tiramisu cupcake that I unceremoniously stuffed into my mouth for breakfast yesterday in that whole – don’t worry about frosting on the nose lets just stuff the whole thing in your face manner you see in the movies.
I don’t even like cake, but these were something else. BTW, thanks J for busting my diet I have to reluctantly go back to visit the caveman now …
Soooo, I found this.
Can you say, oh my god, what!
Now, it might not exactly be your cup of tea but how on earth did she manage this?
It kind of reminds me of the pink bubblegum blobs my friend made when we took a lamp work class a couple of years back –
in that, night and day way.
So, what to do today?
These are waiting for me in some kind of limbo land.
And, help it now, this has been in the kiln for ever just waiting for some friends to join it for the next firing party.
(I didn’t write that Danielle 😉 did I ever mention I was a slow learner?).
I’m thinking of getting out my PMC and making some charms. Only the stuff makes me really frustrated as all I seem to do is get hundreds of dollars of sticky silver on my fingers which is really annoying and no good for my blood pressure.
Maybe I should experiment with the copper clay first just to get a grip on things.
This is one of my first attempts before I put the stuff away in disgust.
Not very inspiring.
But, other people can do it, so I’m determined I can. Not that I’m stubborn or anything.
Or, I might paint.
Let’s just hope the poached egg situation doesn’t put a damper on the whole day.
O.k. today’s the day I’m giving up painting again.
This seems to happen on a regular basis now.
This is what I feel like.
Pure droopy melodramatical anguish.
Hence, the above, is a small angusishy photo, because I feel small and anguishey.
(Yes, I know that’s not a word but I’m in too much anguish to care).
I might have to give up jewelry too. I haven’t decided yet, but I think it’s killing me. Slowly. In an anguishy kind of way.
I think definitely a time out is in need.
A time out to clean my studio. To get all the dust out of there. To rethink how to get all the fumes out of there. And to reorganize. It looks as though a bomb has hit it.
All you wanna, need to, I’m new to it all but just have to, jewelers out there, pay attention. It’s a dangerous hobby and could kill you at any time – or cause amputation.
Either way, it’s not good, and is certainly an inconvenience.
Don’t let me put you off though. That weird feeling in my chest could just be a panic attack waiting to happen, or indigestion, but my hypochondriacal self knows those are just lies written to assuage my fear of the inevitable.
That I’m dying.
To help you not die, however, take comfort. I have found this website for you.
You can now rest assured that you do not have to become as anguishy as I have.
I’m going to try to keep with the acrylics on the first one. The bottom one, because I’ve already started over the acrylics with oil pastel, I’ll finish with the pastels.
If I can follow through (always my problem) with the acrylics I think I will prefer the top painting to the bottom one. The oil pastels seem less spontaneous to me although I love the richness of the colours. (You can’t tell here as the photograph is bad).
I applied to the art festival I do each year. This time I applied to take some paintings as well as my jewelry. I’m just not sure though. I’m always saying that maybe next year I’ll be ready. Ready to display my jewelry in a more professional manner. Ready to sell my jewelry as a proper business. Ready to make a real effort at painting, etc., etc. But next year is always the same as this year. This is why I’ve applied for painting also.
I don’t think my paintings are very good. I’d like to work on them to a point where I feel comfortable trying to sell them but confidence always gets in the way of me even trying (hence the worry wart). This blog has helped me though. I am putting them out there, warts and all (no offense to my wart) and it’s becoming easier to get over myself.
Now, finally, I have sent off some photo’s to the art festival people – even though I have none finished.
(Where’s that darn worry wart when you need him!).
It’s bigger than I thought, which is good as I have a lot of worries.
As it’s so big I thought I would put it on the mantle along with the others in my menagerie of oddities so that the other people living with me can take advantage of its magical powers.
But it’s worrying me how worried he looks. See how he’s checking out Mr. Angry Pig? That’s a look of sheer terror right there.
Perhaps I should move him. His companions do look a bit thuggish.
This is what I’ve been painting.
I’ve almost finished this one,
and I’m working on this one.
I also got these two out and fiddled with them some more.
Almost as creepy as my menagerie?
(Well, O.K. perhaps they’re creepier).
I finally finished listening to the last of the Dick Francis audio books dad brought over. There were five of them.
They weren’t too bad. I found myself comfortably lulled by the narrator’s voice and only had to cringe a little at the bits where he played a woman. The plots were quite thin, however, always starting with the main character and the horse introductions. Then it seemed that, in the ones I listened to at least, there was the usual (or not) amputated hand/foot/leg/whatever, leg in plaster, etc., etc., explanation, which always ended up being due to some unfortunate horse accident … go figure, then the murdering bit, which was fairly low-key in comparison to the other murder mysteries I’ve been listening to. I’ve become used to the whole putting people in a wood chipper in the deep dark woods next to a creepy cabin kind of murder, or the, lock someone up in a decompression chamber for five years and slowly increase the pressure each year so that when it’s opened suddenly the person inside implodes and – O.K. I don’t know if you’d really implode but it’s safe to say that the regular old whack on the back of the head murder seems to be a little, been there, done that, kind of thing really.
Then there’s the falling in love bit, the, I should tell the police but I wont, but I should really, but I wont, bit, then the danger, danger, bit, and finally the, it’s solved, bit.
(I’m having commitment issues as I type. Decision is a pretty decisive word).
The other day I saw an article on Etsy about a quilt maker who decided to make a quilt a day. You can find her shop here. In the announcement on the front page of her shop you can read about her project. I thought it was interesting. Like a journal.
Anyhoo, I’ve been feeling pretty down about my wanting to paint and yet having all these confidence issues having a little war in my head, so, I thought I might snatch her idea and just get on with it.
I bought some small 8 x 10 boards a few weeks ago which seem perfect for the job, so yesterday I just painted. The idea wasn’t to go anywhere but to just let it be.
This is the first acrylic run,
and here I have begun to work the oil pastels in.
(Now I’ve posted them, I don’t like them. Man I was doing so well …)
Again, the problem I always have is, I like the spontaneity of the first one, but, I just don’t like the way the acrylics look. Conversely I love the richness of the oil pastels, but, now it’s boring and too trite.
See, thinking too much. The project was just to let it be.
O.K. so ignoring all that, (as N is apt to say, I am going to choose not to let it bother me), I went out yesterday and bought a couple more boards before I could get to second guessing myself and although I am not going to paint one a day as the quilt lady is, I am going to see what happens as I go along. I am going to start one, and finish one before I go on to the next. That should start to sort out my finishing issues, and then, I am going to list them on Etsy and sell them, that should help with my confidence issues. I thought $50 each, that should help me not be so precious with them, but they take me a long while so I don’t know. (See, getting precious already).
The money will go to charity so there’s another little commitment to help me take it seriously.
Now, here’s the rub. When tomorrow comes, will I have changed my mind – again?
Stay tuned …
Here’s a pic of Spencer and Wally snuggling.
I often catch them like this. Wally’s the instigator. Do you think he has issues also?
I think its going to be a jewelry kind of day today.
I haven’t made anything since my dad was here except to paint. But, I’ve now decided to give up on the painting. Yep, I’ve gone into my, I can’t do it and it’s bringing me down, stage. It generally happens after a few days of, I want to say enjoyment, so how can it go from fun to despair in such a short period of time?
Was it Dick Frances?
I didn’t work on the one with the out of control tree, but, rather, I picked up some half-finished paintings, one of which I actually believe I finished yesterday. My second or third completed piece out of the hundreds (okay, maybe fifty) I have lurking in the store-room. Wowzers. At least that’s a step in the right direction.
And here it is.
in all it’s glory. No windows, sorry E.
And this one, apart from the sky, is perhaps almost as close to finished.
Some windows. Ghost windows, mawahaha. (Too creepy?)
But then I picked up this one – again.
And I think it might just have been the one that finished me off.
There’s something about it that I really like, it’s simplicity perhaps, and the colours, but, I just can’t do it capt’n, I’ve no the power!
Oh the stress in my heart as I think about it.
(O.K. maybe a tad melodramatic).
And then, as if to push me over the edge completely, I found this on Etsy.
And bought it so that I can put it on my bedroom wall and have it taunt me each day I wake up ….
O.K. I’m going to have to stop now. The self-pity is bringing me down.
Time to move on …
On a good note, the red oil pastel all but came out of the sofa. The only place you can see the remnants of the ‘incident’ is on one of the cushions which can easily be turned over and hidden. The stain on the ottoman was the most worrying for me as there is no turning to do, but, it came out completely, as it did on the other two cushions. Oh, goo be gone, white shaving cream and apple scented washing up liquid, you are now my friends for life. How can I have been so dismissive of you for all these years …
So, jewelry it is. Either that or moping on the sofa – and that’s kind of getting old news now. I have an art festival coming up in October so perhaps I need to make some simple, cheaper, items, but really I want to set some more cabochons. I’m not going to let it bother me though. I’m just going to wing it.
Dick Frances (yep, still with him) was going at it with the whole horse tampering thing and somehow, in the heat of things, I got a bit carried away with the tree. Think I’ll knock it back a bit today.
I’m enjoying the colours especially the pink behind the house for some reason.
Soooooo, we had a bit of a bright red oil pastel incident on the linen coloured sofa yesterday. Of course it had to be red and of course it had to get all over and in three of Spencer’s paws so he could ‘innocently’ traipse around more of the deadliest colour in the crayon box. I think he took the opportunity to give us the ol’, ha! I’ll show you, thing for putting him on a diet myself, but I guess we’ll never know.
P was remarkably calm considering the covers are relatively new and expensive. We did the best we could to get most of it out and they are now in the washing machine. I’m not so sure I want to be the one to open it up and see what we have been left with but I don’t think it’ll be so easy to run and hide from this one. As we were trying to hold Spencer down and do our best to get the oil pastel out of his paws without making the whole thing worse P saw the red in my hair and neck and we concluded that it had been on my camera strap. He washed it out for me with dishwashing detergent and extremely cold water. A not so subtle punishment I feel.
Not fair really as after the blue acrylic paint mishap on the old covers I have been extremely careful to change my clothes, etc., when I come in from the studio. And I’m extra careful to get the oil colour out of my hands and elbows.
Perhaps I will be banned from the house entirely soon.
No chance I’ll be caught in a fraudulent act here! Just practicing.
I’ve been going through a ton of audio books while out in my studio and it’s costing me a small fortune. The last one I downloaded was, I Alex Cross, by James Patterson. It was O.K. a bit more grizzly than the others. These authors certainly have a dark side, it’s a wonder they’re allowed out on the streets. Then dad brought over some Dick Francis, pretty light weight in comparison. That was just O.K too. I think it might be time to get out some real books for a change. I do have an audio copy of, To Kill a Mockingbird, one of my favourite books, and movies come to that, (can you say Gregory Peck!) so I think I might give that a go today.
Who knows, it might just improve my painting skills.
It doesn’t look as though I did much more to it but I managed to sneak back in the studio yesterday and now I have this.
I’m not sure if I want to put the windows and doors in. I kind of like it without them. My houses always seem to look a bit shocked with them. Like, what the hell’s going on? Why are you looking at me? kind of thing. In this one, without them, they look as though they are checking the viewer out. Especially the ones that seem to be leaning in for a better look.
Too much time alone in the studio do you think?
I love my dad and only really get to see him once a year although I talk to him on the phone three or four times a week, but, I really, really, really, miss my studio. Three weeks is too long a separation. I feel like a kid whose mum wont let her have an ice cream 🙁 but he leaves on Tuesday and I can definitely make it until then. Then I will miss him and wish I hadn’t been so desperate to do my own thing.
So, no Ellen, I don’t think I am going to put the windows in but I will put the cross on top of the church and the grave markers in the church yard. Does that tell you something of my morbid side? Just pretend you didn’t read it, I’m quite normal really …
While I was deciding what to do next with it, and while dad was watching t.v. with P, I took this one out again and tried to like it.
See those little shocked houses. It’s like they’ve been caught in the act. Don’t ask me what act but they look extremely guilty if you ask me. Now this one will have to chill in the studio until I can get back in there. Dad and P are going fishing on Sunday so lets hope I can figure out something to do with it by then. The only bit I like about it is the sea. Those waves just draw me in. I also like the feeling that everything’s bathed in late afternoon sun, it makes me feel warm. The tree needs a trunk though and the river looks more like an industrial canal which kind of blows the feeling.
Just can’t get anything going with my dad still here but I did work some more on this yesterday.
It went from this,
Really not sure about it yet. I somehow think I prefer the choppy feel of the second, but I’ll wait and see.
I love colour. If you were to meet me you would never guess as I’m a jeans and black t-shirt girl, but, inside I’m bursting with colour. My alter ego.
I’d like to loosen up a little. I’ve begun to realise that I’m a little tight with my work. Never really working outside the box. As a consequence I feel that everything tends to be a little predictable. I think I might start to give myself a few minutes of free painting before I start on a piece, a bit like Michael Phelps flaying his arms around on the starting block to loosen himself up before the big swim. Good grief, I’d dislocate something bad if I attempted even a fraction of that arm swing! Still I’m thinking the whole loosening up analogy is a good idea, except with my brush instead of my body.
I also made a few more pieces of jewelry. I’ve been wondering whether to approach some shops or galleries with my jewelry, but after figuring out material costs and the time I’ve spent making the pieces, I wonder if it’s actually worth my while. It’s getting to the point where I’ll have so much finished jewelry hanging around that I wont know what to do with it.