Fur In The Paint

We got back today from our trip to Sioux City. To find out why we were there you can click here or then again . . . you can just scroll down to the previous post.

Kathy Audus was a wonderful host and took us to see the Siouxland Artists Inc gallery. The artists there are doing some really nice special event (art auction) charity work. The gallery is still in it’s first year and it is lovely.

I think . . . I think
Despite being anti-social, I don’t have much fear of speaking in front of people. Probably because of art fairs I talk to thousand of people and artists every year. (Not that artists aren’t people.)

I think we did okay despite only putting in a few hours prep time. We presented a handout based on the blog posts that you guys helped me with earlier this year. (Thanks for that BTW it was invaluable.) which included

Caring for your prints,
How to choose a giclee publishing house,
the difference between a giclee and a lithograph
and questions to ask yourself about whether you should make prints.

We also included a print sample and both the gallery card and the giclee website card.

Not that I don’t enjoy hand grenades, rocket launchers, assault weapons and snipers rifles just as much as the next middle aged woman. . .

Since we were bringing handouts I asked how many to expect and was told 15-18 is their usual attendance (despite being a group with over 60 members.) So to be on the safe side I brought 20. Well, somewhere between 25-28 people came.

We were told to talk for 15-20 minutes and then allow questions for 10-15. The whole thing should be wrapped up in about half an hour. The plan was I would talk about my work and how the business got started and then Mike would talk about the printing. We each would talk 7-10 minutes. Well . . . they started asking questions before we were done and didn’t stop until well over an hour later. All in all we are calling that a success.

There’s nothing more relaxing than shooting rabbits in the face with a plunger.
To celebrate I got Rayman Raving Rabbids. (yes, that is spelled correctly) which for those of you not in-the-know is a video game. Upon returning home we peeked in the gallery to make sure the cat hadn’t destroyed the place and spent the rest of the day at home playing the new game.

What a hoot. I seriously looked at Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, but chose a much sillier game. Not that I don’t enjoy hand grenades, rocket launchers, assault weapons and sniper rifles just as much as the next middle aged woman, but as some of you may have noticed, I’ve kinda lightened up a lot lately. . . . and so has my gaming.

Somehow shooting rabbits in the face with a plunger (and occasionally whacking them with a shovel . . . and once or twice with a hammer) until they explode seems so much less violent. Probably not though, huh?

Hopefully by now everyone has recovered from their turkey comas, Since today is Sunday, I am in the gallery pondering a new cow painting. This time a group of Holsteins (dairy cattle.) I will talk more on them next post, when I’ve actually done something to talk about.

Anywho, as I sit here, I realize that I must be adjusting to this whole getting older thing. I’ve recently done two things that drew me to this conclusion.

The Two Things
1. We recently bought a Nintendo DS with the intention of playing Big Brain Academy and similar type games. After all my talk of playing bloodthirsty, alien huntin’, bag guy killin’, shoot before you think, style games. We have finally purchased an age appropriate game. (I wonder what’s next . . . Mahjong and card parties?)

For those unfamiliar with Big Brain Academy (and the many other versions out there) it is developed to test and strengthen your mental performance. Some studies have been shown that doing this sort of activity is good for maintaining mental acuity as you age and for staving off Alzheimer’s. (As are many activities such as painting.)


2. The aforementioned snowpants. My husband has been nagging me every single winter since . . . well since we were married, some 18 years ago, to buy a pair. I always stubbornly refused. Mike would point to the thermometer outside, I’d say “Oh give me a break, it’s only 20 below, jeans and sneakers will be fine.” Mike, would sigh heavily, accompanied by much rolling of eyes.

I grew up in rural Minnesota where, unless you owned a snowmobile, you were considered a pansy (well thats not actually the word used. The actual word is spelled similarly, but since this is a family friendly blog . . .) for wearing them. Now my redneck family honored and rewarded tuffness. For instance, a favorite winter test was to run barefoot to grandma’s house (a block away) in knee-deep drifts. (Uh-huh, thaaats right! I did mention we grew-up redneck. Though interestingly enough, besides encouraging the visual arts, we also listened to allot of classical music. Go figure. I guess we were our own special breed of redneck. )

Finally this year I agreed. I walk a couple of miles everyday, for my health. And as it is now below freezing most days, the idea of of going out in the cold becomes less and less appealing. Now however, bundled in my new snowpants. (No photo supplied, because I have to draw the line somewhere on my humiliations for your amusement) I feel all toasty and warm in the harshest winds. Though I have been heckled by one person, I don’t care. My cheeks won’t get chapped this year.

So after all my talk about going in and working versus painting the other day, in the end I stayed home. Good for you! You’re thinking. Well . . .

The ginormous fuzzy offenders
So I am finishing up some chores around the house, still in my lounge wear and slippers. And I trip and fall. It was a stupid reason to fall (as if ever there is a good one.) I was blissfully bustling about the house and I trip over my ginormous slippers. (shown here playing PS2 Jak X Combat Racer)

These were a gift from my husband last year for Christmas, as my previous bunny slippers had worn completely out. (They looked like they had mange.) Now they were not your usual bunny slippers, oh no. These were like full size, whole-bodied, stuffed bunnies. Adorable when they were new. Kinda skanky towards the end.

So, to my husband’s way of thinking, a new pair of completely non-age appropriate slippers will aid me in letting go of my rabid rabbits. And they did. Unfortunately, these dog slippers are twice the size of the bunny twins. You know . . . like clown feet. Clown feet with large flappy ears that you step on with the other foot and . . . well, you get the idea.

“What I do have is a bruised knee and a bruised ego. I mean seriously I have a small rug burn on my face.”

So anyway I land on my knee, then wrist and finally the part of me that stopped my downward spiral, my face. Uh huh . . . thaaaats right.

As I lay on the floor, seeing stars and wondering if I knocked any teeth out (no, thank God) I begin testing my body to see if anything is broken, because I don’t bounce nearly as well as I used to. (Again no. Huge sigh of relief.)

What I do have is a bruised knee and a bruised ego. I mean seriously I have a small rug burn on my face. My front teeth are a little sore yet, and I probably had a very slight concussion as I was light headed, with a ringing in my ears and a killer headache. Today I feel much better and as I was going to the dr. for my yearly bloodwork anyway, I mentioned it. All is fine. Rest and don’t do any activities which will slosh my brain around for a few days. Sheesh!

So now when people look at my face, (though the burn mark is very small, I just know they are looking at it) I feel that I have to explain that I fell. And because I am just that sort of gal, I tell the truth as to why. I really do feel foolish. I mean why couldn’t it have been something sexy like skydiving or skiing in Aspen. Heck even being thrown from my horse would make me feel less stupid. Alas, such is the way of things.

So have my dogs been sent off to be euthanized? Not yet. I’m thinking perhaps an ear cropping might be in order. Though additional measures may have to be taken.

Today in the mail I received the mother of all Christmas gifts from my brother. A Game Cube. But thats not the best part. It’s a Game Cube complete with about a dozen games. And not just any games mind you. But my kind of games. First person shooter types with all the violence and bloodshed that would change a less balanced minded person into to some sort of axe weilding, gun toting, grenade throwing sicko. (Or so the hype goes.) Personally, I can’t get enough. I think they are a great destressor. Anywho, despite being quite late (as far as the xmas thing goes) I am totally thrilled. I got the best brother ever! Truth is, he got himself a new XBOX 360 and his kids a Wii so the cube was just sitting around collecting dust. So he packed it off to me with all his games.

I think I’ll take the Game Cube into the gallery. As I mentioned earlier. There is something about taking a break from painting and playing a little. The games actually require all my focus whereas if I took a break to do something else, I would still be looking at, and pondering the work in progress. But after a bit of gaming, I can go back and see everything from a fresh perspective. I got both a PS2 and a GameCube for Christmas. WhooHoo! Make that a double whoohoo!

So I gotta wonder. This bloodlust thing must be hereditary or something. Until recently I didn’t even know my brother was a gamer. (Since we are both in our 40’s thats saying something.) And like, all of these games are something I surely would have picked out for myself. Several versions of Medal of Honor (Cool!) Ghost Recon. (Oh, I so wanted to get this one for my PS2.) Okay so heres the strange thing. As I paw through the selection of misc. war games and gunfighters I come across Sponge Bob Square Pants. I’m like Whaaa? … Ummm … Hmmm… Okay. Maybe I’ll have to ask him about that one.

So I was playing with my Christmas present this morning. Ahem… yea, I know. Christmas is still 5 weeks away. But I mean, come on. I had to try it out to make sure everything worked the way it was supposed to, didn’t I? Warranties don’t last forever.

Now I’ll let you in one of my painters secrets. I am a gamer. They actually help me be more productive while painting. Now I would really like to say I play something more age appropriate like trivia or Brain Age or even mahjong (well, maybe in another decade or so.) But the truth is, I love first person shooters. Blood and Gore, Bring it on! As a woman of 40 it is slightly embarrassing that a PS2 was my Christmas wish. (Mind you, I didn’t go for a PS3. Which just goes to show you that I am sooo…not cool. Do they even say cool anymore?) Currently I am playing Black by EA Games. It had been advertised as gun porn. It is an older game (Once again my uncoolness showing through.) I love it.

When I think of gamers, I tend to think of pimply faced teenage boys staring glassy eyed at the TV for hours on end. And Ummm, yes I have been known to play it until I think my carpal tunnel can’t take it any more. I wonder if arthritis pills would mean I could play longer. Hmmm.