Fur In The Paint

So it is Sunday and I’m trying to get myself in my “happy place.” You know the location where my desire to start a new painting and the actuality of doing something about it finally meet.

I spent the morning playing Lego Star Wars on the Playstation and had a blast. I haven’t cranked up the PS for … well since things got all topsy turvey for me.

Then I came into the gallery and goofed off … But then, then I settled in to looking through like a gazillion giraffe photos. Okay more like 3000-5000 but it still took a couple of hours.

What I got in my head (and whether I can get it out of my head and onto suede board is yet to be determined) is a panoramic of several (5-13) giraffes at varying distances with a plain background.

Kinda like a cross between my Skyscrapers giraffe painting and the Birds of A Feather flamingo piece. Maybe they went out on a date and got a little tipsy and this thing I’m planning is their love child. Okay maybe not. But it’s a close description.

As soon as I have anything on paper I’ll take a pic and post it.

I got a request for a horse portrait and the woman agreed to my many and lengthy list of demands soooo … I really need to get back into painting and I certainly don’t want to start with a commission job.

So I’m sucking it up and just doing it.

Here goes . . . . nothing . . . . and everything

Some days I wake up and pop right out of bed because I know I have a laundry list of things that must get done before I fall back into bed that evening. You know … because if I don’t get them all done the universe will implode and destroy us all.

That’s right …it’s just me keeping the planets in their orbits, and the world spinning and everything as it should be.

You’re welcome.

But some days … days like today. When it’s cold and dark and I just want to stay bundled under the covers and pretend that I’m not a super hero keeping the world on track with my daily task completion charts and bar graphs … some days I indulge myself in a little fantasy.

I’m sure you’re thinking all sort of varied and seductive things … shame on you.

And you’d be right.

My fantasy goes a little something like this.
I spend the day in bed … with a beautifully muscled French man who adores me.

No no no … that’s not right.

I spend the day in bed… in my fleecey yoga pants … and no bra (It feels oh so good and pulls the wrinkles out of your face) … with the tv on (I know right … the horror.) I’d watch mind numbingly bad tv and eat junk food like nacho chips and ice cream. (Mmm … sweet and salty and fake cheesy goodness) I’d only get up for the pizza/broasted chicken delivery guy.

I have my trusty 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke and another chilling in a trash can filled with ice. As the day wore on and I run out of junk food I’d pick the miscellaneous crumbs from my clothes, hair and blankets.

And knowing me at some point I’d spill the soda … I’d swear loudly… then think “ah screw it” and pull the blankets over the wet spot and continue watching tv.

If the phones rings I’d answer it. (Surprised you there huh?)

And when asked what I was up to I’d say “Oh you know, working hard.” Then I’d promptly make some excuse and hang up quick, turn the volume back up and fall back into a stupor.

Because of everything i didn’t do Christmas this year. I sent no cards but I sincerely appreciate all of you who sent me cards. I feel a bit bad about not reciprocating but know that I just couldn’t do it. I bought myself no gift and treated it just as I would any other day.

But I am feeling better. I am even “thinking” of starting a painting. Well …perhaps starting some sketches. I wouldn’t want to jinx myself.

So perhaps my belated gift is this … a day of nothingness. No work … no phone… no stress. If I could package this up I would gift all of you a guilt free day as well. But then again perhaps it is something you can give yourself.

At any rate … Expect to see some art some time in the future (I couldn’t be any more vague and still be stress free.)

And thanks for sticking with me.

2011 Was A Hard Year… A Very Hard Year.
So tonight we say farewell to 2011 and wake in the morning to 2012 (aka year of the apocalypse.)

I won’t miss much about 2011. As most of you know and many have guessed my husband asked for a divorce several months back. Though perhaps not totally unexpected it did totally rock my world.

I threw myself a rather big pity party … you know the usual, feeling betrayed and thrown away. If it weren’t for all of the support I got from my family and friends I’m sure I would have suffered much more than I did. I won’t dwell on this … it just represents much of a lost year for me.

It has been 8 months since I’ve created any art (unless you count my doodles) and for awhile I feared I might not get back to it. I’ve always considered myself a furiously happy person and that too was snuffed out for awhile. I still laughed easily but the actual joy part was missing. Again I feared I actually lost part of myself. And I think for awhile I did.

But I think … I think … I’m back. I don’t doubt there’ll be more tears but I am more at peace with things now. More accepting. More ready to move forward and face the future. I’m not 100% yet but 2012 is not looking bleak.

I plan to march into it with open arms and offer myself to whatever comes. Because I’m a warrior ninja princess (yeah that’s right) and I can do this!

So in light of this philosophy this year I am once again setting some goals for myself. I didn’t last year and just look what happened! (Oh the horror!) But I’m keepin’ it simple. You know kinda easing myself back into the land of the living.

2012 Goals
* Do at least one horse painting for Apples n’ Oats. I know right? (keepin’ the bar attainable guys) That is if my beloved editor hasn’t completely given up on me.

* Seriously Look Into Zazzle and/or Cafe Press I opened a Zazzle account today and will play just as soon as I can figure how to get logged in.

* Create more than just the one horse painting … thought I better stick that in.

* Make 100 new squidoo pages This is my reaching goal. I’ve been on squidoo for many years and haven’t made even 200 pages yet. But in the last year I’ve made about 75 so doable with effort. My squidoo payout for Feb should be over $600. My plan keep building pages until I get a substantial return on them that relieves any money worries. It’ll take more than another 100 pages but just keep plugging along.

* Enjoy my life again. Play more with my critters. Spend more time outdoors

So that’s about it. Not any earthshaking moves but I’ve had enough of earth shaking for awhile.

So how about you all? Any New Years goals … artistic or otherwise?

So continuing in the tradition of the previous two years, here’s another story.
Just a little background info for anyone new to the blog. I grew up in a house where odd things happened regularly. The easiest way to describe it is as haunted. Whether that be the actual case, I don’t know. What I do know is it was real, it happened to all family members and many visiting people. Mom still lives in this house.

So gather round. Get your popcorn and Halloween candy for snacking. Shut off the lights and just bask in the soft glow of your monitor.

Anyone got to go to the bathroom? Do it now. . . We’ll wait.

So it was about a month before I was going to leave for college. Things had gotten really bad for me as the house just didn’t really want to leave me alone. I was quite literally sleeping downstairs on the dining room floor because it was within 15 feet of my parents bedroom. The living room with it’s comfy couch was just another 10 feet to far.

I’m almost asleep when I hear … creeeaak! followed by the sound of the kitchen door closing firmly from the backporch.

This perks me up but for the most part is a pretty common occurrence. It alone was not enough to get me to running screaming into the night.

I open my eyes when I felt this presence like a low hanging fog (though there was nothing to be seen, but that’s how it felt) moved in from the kitchen. I could sense it move around the dining room table and slowly creep upward from my feet to my chest.

I mentally Shout “Leave me the hell alone!”

I couldn’t move or call out. I wasn’t overly freaked out but I was very aware that I was not completely in control of my own body. Not in a possessed sort of way. More like being held down by an invisible force.

I started to be gently rocked from left to right for well.. I imagine it was less than a minute, but at the time it felt like forever.

And just like that I was released and it left or evaporated or something.

At this point I did scramble to my feet walk into my folks doorway and said “So did you guys here the kitchen door?”

They said yes. I ten asked if I could sleep on the bedroom floor and again they said yes. And so I lay down next to their bed. Mind you I’m 18. Not exactly a little kid.

As I’m beginning to dose off I hear a tapping under my head, like someone is tapping from the basement ceiling.

Tap .. tap .. tap..

I move my head and it follows me.

Tap .. tap .. tap..

I mentally Shout “Leave me the hell alone!” and curl my pillow over my ears. And then it actually did and I fell asleep.

I didn’t tell my folks about the holding down thing until much later. Being touched is a rather rare occurrence and most of the time it is harmless. Mom once thought something was trying to break her leg when she had it dangling over the bed and my brother believes he was pushed down the stairs once. But on the whole touching happens only a couple of times per person.

UPDATED: Whenever my mom wants me to come home for a visit she usually throws in something like this… “You know nothing has happened in a very long time … Maybe they’ve left. (a small pause later) Although when your Aunt Jo was visiting last week someone tugged on her foot while she was sleeping.”

Truth is my mom is pretty close to deaf and can sleep through anything including ringing phones and alarm clocks. So yeah … I don’t take her word for it when she says the house is quiet.

So with my life in upheaval it’s easy for me to question my choices along pivotal points in my life. I think back to who I think I’d be by now and wonder if I was a different person perhaps I’d be more … well, just more. But you know, I really do like who I am. And I really do love my life and on those days when it seems like a real struggle to hold onto this life … I play this song.

It was a day of healing words for me and I thought I would share because frankly we all are going through or have been through something major and traumatic from time to time and both of these small acts of kindness from two very dear friend came after my very bad day of Tuesday.

Turbulence is a life force.
It is opportunity.
Let’s love turbulence and use it for change.

About Turbulence

So I spent the morning and had lunch with a friend of mine who owns the Side Street Gallery in Okoboji. She was concerned for me as I told her what was happening in my life the day prior and had brought me this little note which was something she has carried with her for a long time and held special meaning. She thought she was ready to release it and that it would be something that was now meant for me.

She was right it was and it’s now attached to my mirror in the gallery so I can read it and take it in every single day.

On being a Beauty Queen or … you know like … whatever

This one comes from my dear friend Louise Gunderson and as she has a blog (check out mariongundersonart.com) herself it should have come as no surprise that I would want to blog about it.

Her private response to my Hell-a-va Thing post. (and yes I did ask if it was okay with her before publishing) This bit made me smile and delighted my soul with its whimsy.

For when there might be days that you feel like crap…..well, since you¹ve been working so hard (which you¹ve always been a hard worker, but right now your work is especially-times-infinity intense), that can lead to being so tired, which can lead to vulnerability of certain feelings/thoughts sifting in.

I bet right now you look like a beauty queen!!!!! Oh, so am I overdoing it there?!!!!! Ok, you look like a princess! (Or, if you don¹t want to look like a princess, then you look like a pretty mermaid with legs. Or, if you don¹t want to look like a pretty mermaid, then you look like a human flower.. Or, if you don¹t want to look like a human lower, then…..hmmmmm, a colorful butterfly? Oh, one that is human.

So if you’re feeling a little blue, take it in for yourself. Because I think just about everyone could use someone telling them this on a bad day. These were gifts from the heart and now … their yours

Leaving for Davenport Iowa for the Riverssance art event today. See you all on Tuesday.

I have had many good days of late. Enough of them in fact that I am all “I am so handling this whole life turned upside thing like a pro.” You know being all adult like and avoiding the nasty side of me. Because as I’ve said before, my totem animal is a grizzly bear. So I’m all sunshine and rainbows until you poke me.

Okay back on topic… lots of good days have passed me by but … today is a bad day.

And as I stare at myself in the mirror with puffy eyes and saggy face from total lack of sleep Baggy and wrinkled clothes that yes indeed, I did wear yesterday but I have showered since then thank-you-very-much. And while I may not have brushed my hair yet, it’s up in a ponytail (which I am totally rockin’) so you don’t even notice… probably because you’re too busy wondering why I’m wearing the same clothes and have such squinty looking eyes.

As I look at myself I gotta wonder how well I am really holding up in it all. Now if I believe all my dear friends who have surrounded me and closed ranks with love and support I am totally awesome. In fact lately just about everyone tells me how good I look.

And so I gotta wonder “What’s up with that?” Here’s my thoughts.

1. They know what’s going on and thinking I’m going through my own personal hell right now, want to offer me comfort through compliments. Lord knows you don’t tell someone who’s going through a bad time that it is reflected all over their face.

2. Or perhaps they think that because of what I’m going through I really should look like hell. So in comparison, I look better than what they thought I would. Umm … I’m guilty of this one myself. I’ve had friends who are going through cancer treatments and invariably the first words out of my mouth are “You really look great.” Perhaps I need to rethink that.

3. The last alternative is that I have indeed lost 35 pounds in the past 2 years and so maybe just maybe it is meant sincerely and has nothing to do with my life gone to hell.

Ah hell I don’t know. But thank you.

To every single one of you who has told me I am looking good, healthy, skinny, happy or whatever. I don’t care if it was the truth or a lie. Either way it just means you care enough to try to lighten my load just a little.

Oh and by the way. Ya’ll are looking pretty damn good yourselves.

Here’s A Little Known Grizzly Bear Fact
Grizzly type people really love shiny baubley things. This was a gift from a local customer for no good reason other than she felt like it. (meaning she’s no idea what I’m dealing with at the moment) How utterly sweet and she made it just for me. Thanks Stella.

NOTE: sorry about the slightly fuzzy quality of the photo. It’s really hard to get a clear shot of your arm when it’s attached to your body.

Note: If you are new to the blog you may want to skip this post as it’s not exactly my usual fare. There are plenty of posts dealing with art fairs and artwork as well as just silly stuff like this. Peruse the tag words on the right side and pick one. I will try very hard to be back to this person (as in the happy person who wrote those posts) just as soon as I can but for now once again I am using my blog for a bit of catharsis.

One Day At A Time
Well I’ve put on my big girl panties and started working again. I took several days away and hung out with my friend Linda. We had a girlie weekend of movies, munchies and video games. At this point some days are good and some aren’t. The day this pic was taken (Sunday) was a pretty good day and I spent much of it jockeying the card printers. Today is not so much.

My business was built around my husband’s technological genius. Now it’s up to me to learn how to do this on top of my normal jobs. It’s very much like someone saying I need to be fluent in Japanese within an undetermined (possibly short) period of time while still working at all the usual things that keep my business (and household) afloat. I tremble just thinking about it.

Fear has become my enemy and it’s a constant struggle to keep feeling positive and to continue to move forward. There’s that little voice that says “Yeah, but even if you learn all of this what happens if the printer dies, or the scanner or the computer dies… or you get really sick … or, or, or.”

So at any given day I may be laughing in the morning and crying in the afternoon. My friends have been a Godsend. Their constant support and positive words like “You’re a pioneer woman if I ever met one.” Or “You can do this!” keep me from crawling under a blanket, lying in the fetal position and just never coming out again.

Thank you to Barb McGee for giving me her painting to create prints of despite knowing it’s up to me to get it right. Hers is my first artwork though currently I’m scanning and working on another non-art project. I did some color profiling long ago in the early years but it’s been long enough that it truly is starting over and learning everything from scratch.

Thank you to Linda for being there for when I am in the moment and listening to me repeat myself over and over until I get all the crazy out.

Thank you to all who have offered me a place to stay or get away from it all if I needed it. And especially to those who were also willing to take in my horse if it came to that. That kind of generosity was so unexpected as to leave me speechless and humbled.

Thank you to all who have suddenly found some business to give me.

Thank you to all (both on and off the blog) who have just “been there” for me and continue to do so. I can’t express enough how much it helps to keep me going.

And thank you to Mike for being a willing and patient teacher.

Connie Herring’s Art Exhibit “Story Tellers”
So I took off early from the gallery to go to my dear friend Connie Herring’s (you may remember Connie from my paper making trips) gallery reception for her show called “Story Tellers.” They are a celebration of the feminine and the divine. She transformed wooden ironing boards into feminine spirits all with their own story. It’s a truly wonderful show and I encourage anyone who’s in the Spencer area to visit Arts on Grand to view it. The photos here do not do it justice.

Once upon a time I belonged to an art group. The group itself was together for something like 20 years but I was a part of it for perhaps the last 10 or so. As time went on, everyone got too busy, some got sick and some passed away. Also the group’s members lived in a radius of a couple hundred miles so it was really was like planning a strategic ninja commando operation to get us all together. Long story short we haven’t managed to make it happen in years.

SO imagine my surprise when nearly all of us met to see Connie’s show. (big hint as to how much we all adore Connie that we’d travel great distances to attend)

From Left To RIght Barb McGee, Joleen Dentlinger, Anita Coon, Connie Herring, Me and Katie Plucker (who’s real name is Anita.)

Now I’m rather under dressed and had had my hair in a pony tail which I pulled out for the photo. In retrospect maybe I should have left it up as my hair looks rather shaggy and unkempt. Ah well. It just wouldn’t be right if I looked normal in any photo I have taken.

Last week upon returning from the art fair I popped out the next day to restock the house with sustenance. Still exhausted from a weekend of hard manual labor and sweltering heat and humidity, I was much too tired in the morning to cook my usual breakfast of a veggie hash with fat free ham and fruit. So I settle for a bread roll . . . plain, and prepare for a day of shopping. (Note: not a good diabetic breakfast, at all.)

About 4 o’clock I’m feelin’ a bit peckish (because all I’ve had is that roll for the past 8 hours) and so I head over to a common fast food stop. Since this is derogatory post, I won’t mention it by name. Let’s just call it Kenlucky Freed Chuckwagon, or KFC for short. (I could totally write code for the government.)

Now I should say that I am primarily a diet controlled diabetic, meaning that I don’t take insulin and so therefor I don’t have to worry about coma or anything from my low blood sugar. The worst thing that will happen if I starve for a day is that I’ll get cranky. Occasionally really, really cranky. (Yeah I know, surprising huh? I bet ya’ll thought I’m all unicorns and rainbows all the time.)

So I order and sit down and wait. I tend to be a very patient person in general. But in this instance perhaps I should have acted just a little more quickly. It took me until somewhere around the 12th customer who came after me and got fed, before I get up. By now I’m feelin’s some serious cranky come’n on.

Me: Goes to counter which takes a minute or so to get a cashier because some off-duty workers come in and are chatting with those on duty. I make eye contact with one and say, “So where’s my food?”

KFC: Huh?

Me: “I’ve been waiting for a long time and about a dozen people have gotten their food. What’s the hold up?”

KFC “Uh,” Turns to kitchen “Where’s this lady’s order?” Mumbling and a lot of shrugging occurs.

Me: “It’s been like 15 minutes” Crankier and crankier.

KFC: “We need to see your receipt.”

Me: Presents receipt with a bit more of a dramatic flourish than was necessarily warranted. All the while wondering to self if they are aware of the beast in me emerging like a Werewolf in a full moon.

KFC: Looks through computer log in state of confusion. Chaos ensues for an additional minute or two.

Me: Seeing that no one is planning on just filling my order, but rather are intent on figuring out the mystery of it all. I say “Just give me my money back.” Said really low in a threatening growl. (The rabid wolf is just barely restrained from lunging over the counter.) At this point I realize my attitude is is exceeding the severity of the situation. But for some reason I can’t quite rein it in.

KFC: cashier disappears into kitchen and fails to return. (Perhaps to find some silver bullets) A minute later another server appears and begins to refund my money.

Me: “I did get my soda so just refund the other stuff” By now I’m feelin’ incredibly stabby because nobody has once offered an apology for the problem. I didn’t need them on their knees begging, just a polite statement saying they regret my inconvenience.

KFC: Avoids eye contact (which is probably for the best because I am shooting him daggers with my eyes) Hands me my money and promptly dashes away without a single word uttered at all. Customer appears to my right.

Them: “Um . . . we didn’t order this.” Looks sideways at me and offers a small smile. Yup my long lost lunch. They stuck it in with someone else’s.

KFC: Takes tray from customer and holds it out in my general direction like “Here you go. Whew crisis diverted.”

ME: Looking incredulous.

KFC: Seeing that I am apparently not grasping the simplicity of her body language says. “Do you want this?”

Me: I remain verbally silent But look at her like “Seriously? It’s been setting out for over 15 minutes and someone else has handled it. are you dim or something” All the while my mind was pondering the various ways I could commit murder with the plastic cutlery at hand. Eventually I settle on the spork as my weapon of choice. (Oh yeah, I’m a great multi-tasker.)

KFC: “Well What should I do with this?”

Me: (I know right? What an invitation) Proof that I hadn’t completely shifted over into kill mode meant that I just turned around and walked out silently, while she still held the tray in my general direction.

The Happy Ending
I then go to Hardees. A place I pretty much never eat. The cashier guy was incredibly friendly and helpful. So much so I was wondering if he was hitting on me, or perhaps he’s just skilled with rangling Werewolves. At his suggestion I tried their hand-breaded chicken strips with beer battered onions rings . . . and it was heavenly.

I noticed when I first took my food I was a little shaky. More so I think from my barely averted spork killing spree than low blood sugar. But upon leaving Hardees I was almost back to being all unicorns and rainbows.

Almost.

Driving away, I glance down to my glovebox, secure in the knowledge that hidden somewhere in it’s depths, is a shiny, new plastic-wrapped spork.

NOTE: I understand that my reaction (and by reaction I mean rage) was a bit more than it should have been. Tired from the weekend’s event and not having eaten all day pushed me over the edge. I have worked in the fast food industry when I was in college and I know it’s not exactly a thrilling job. But still, I did not yell or scream (despite really really wanting to) so I am surprised at the lack of customer service on their end. Perhaps they were just crappy servers. Or perhaps I wasn’t controlling the crazy as well as I thought. Most likely it was a little of both.