OK, it seems that I'm not afraid to publish my not so great art pieces to the world! After looking again at the piece I did yesterday, and getting some feedback which agreed with my own gut feeling about it, I added a bit more to the painting - now I like it better!
Mother and Children
(click for details)
Now it seems a little more grounded and comfortable in its space!
We have been doing a study of shapes in what we see, rather than just the object themselves. For my inspiration, I liked the flow in the following simple illustration which came from an early Old Mother Goose book:
Mother And Children
(click for detail)
The above one was scanned, here's another view, taken outside:
(click for detail)
It shows a bit more color. Anyway, I'm pleased with it!
Arrrgghghh ............. I did it again! Working on something and getting it messy in my exuberance. This time I was making a postcard out of foam core board and stamped tissue which I had torn into pieces. I don't think I have ever created a postcard where I didn't get smudges or worse on the back where one is supposed to write a message. In this case, I was adhering the tissue strips with polymer medium, and some of the tissue ran so my fingers became stained and before I knew what was happening, I found smudges all over the back. It was a new process for me and I was having quite a bit of fun. The instructions called for doing it on mat board, but I only had foam core board, so that's what I used.
Not that it would have made any difference to use what it called for- I would have smudged whatever I used. I have a painting I'm working on right now, and there are spatters where I don't want them, and other things, but I can correct them with patience and more paint. But a postcard back ............. well, that rather defeats the purpose of creating something fairly quickly which you can then send off to a friend, if you have to stop and paint the back to make it look decent! Bah!
Well, anyway, here is the piece. The girl's face image was already a bit disfigured on the photo, and it's kind of hard to get the true color when you have used Gloss Polymer Medium.
My husband John traveled several times a year in his previous job and always wanted me to join him on these trips. I usually went, and in the days Tabitha was too young to travel, she stayed with friends while we were gone. I remember in 1987 a trip we made to Washington DC at the beginning of Thanksgiving week. We stayed at the L'Enfant Plaza, which is on the Mall and I had a wonderful time in our nation's capital. The weather was gorgeous and I visited everything I could while John was in meetings all day. We were to return home the day before Thanksgiving.
When Wednesday arrived, we woke up to a very dreary and dismal day. By the time we got to the National airport, right across the Potomac Basin from Washington, the weather was completely foul, and we found out that on this, the busiest travel day of the year, all of the planes were running a couple of hours behind. Once we boarded the plane and I looked out of the window, I could barely make out the Washington Monument which was just across the water. We were exhausted and John promptly fell asleep in the seat next to me. I wondered how in the world the pilots would know how to get us safely into the air on the short runway and in such poor visibility. I hadn't realized I voiced my concerns out loud until the passenger in the seat on the other side of John spoke up in reply. He assured me that the pilots were very experienced in flying by instruments and that all would be well.
I leaned around John and saw a tall, thin, nice looking man about our age, with a reassuring smile. I thanked him, but I had to ask him just how he knew about instrument flying (I was still somewhat nervous about it). He then introduced himself to me:
"My name is Steven Nagel and I'm an astronaut. I've piloted the Space Shuttle three times."
Well, that was reassuring!
The plane began its takeoff and soon we were above the storm clouds and in a clear sky. All the way to Atlanta, he and I chatted. During the conversation we talked about what it was like to see the world from such a different perspective and he also told me that he was a Christian. He shared with me about how important God was in his life and that he led a Bible study for fellow astronauts in Houston. Such a rare glimpse of God's creation he had been able to have, and it was very clear that he savored every moment of it. I told him about our daughter Tabitha and he asked for our address, so that he could send some materials to her.
As we approached Atlanta, John finally woke up. I introduced him to our traveling companion as the wheels touched the ground. We all shook hands and he went off to his connecting flight to Houston and we headed to our flight to Charleston.
Col. Nagel was good on his word and soon we received a photo of him, which he signed for Tabitha, and a photo of the Space Shuttle taking off on a night launch and I put them both in a scrapbook I was making at the time. He is retired now from the Air Force and lives in Canton IL. I was sorry to see the Shuttle Program end recently, and I'm sure he was too. For further information about Col. Nagel, see this link.
It was a wonderful experience to have my fears quieted by a fellow Christian who knew we were indeed in very good hands!
My friend Kikie is a very nice young man I met through Postcrossing. We have become Pen Pals, although I confess he is much more punctual about writing than I am. Although he lives out west, 6 states away from me, it turns out that we even have a mutual friend whom we had met years ago in Charleston! He is a super nice guy and I hope that someday we can meet in person. For right now though, I sent him a handmade Birthday Greeting:
(click for details)
Inside it reads:
happy birthday
now go have a piece of cake
real slow-like.
I had fun making the card and I hope he enjoys his birthday greetings from the South!
This past Wednesday, August 10, was a milestone for me. For the first time in over 3 years, I was up on my feet more than I was lying down! On Thursday and Friday I was really worn out, but I expected it. It's overall very encouraging because over the past few weeks, I can tell an inner difference in how I'm feeling. I know that healing will be slow, and that I may never be back to where I was before this illness struck, but I am alright with that. One of my main desires is that I remember all the lessons God taught me, and is still teaching me, through this illness.
Over the past few weeks, I have been able to do some of the many, many things which have piled up over the years - clear off a desk in the bedroom, clear off my worktable and drawing table in my studio, organize the postcards I'ver received from Postcrossing, sort through a couple of small cardboard boxes, designed some greeting cards and many other small but significant (to me) things. I have a good friend from my church who has come over several Friday mornings and helped me turn the spare room into a guest bedroom instead of a room holding a lot of stuff. Some of the time I just sat while she worked, but it was fun to be part of it. There is still more to do in there but it looks much more like a bedroom now!
And today I even did my tag for the next Tag Tuesday challenge I will host on Aug. 16th!
I can see the top of my work table! I actually cleaned off the top and wiped it down! Yes, that's a big deal for me because it is my least favorite thing to do in my studio - clean up. Yet it's also one of the most important things I can do because I am forever looking for an image, a small metal part or even a pen to write with. To do mixed media art like I do, you have to have things organized somewhat or it becomes very frustrating. But these kinds of things are also the hardest to organize! So many small bits, art paper, different paints, brushes, metal pieces, images I like from magazine, cards, etc. Yikes!!
But at least I made a bit of a dent this morning. Now, my drawing table beckons ........
I also sent off some correspondence which was woefully behind, and I made a card for a friend who was kind enough to give me a small bag filled with treasures to use in my art.
(click for details)
So of course I used some of the things she gave me on the card. And now that I am looking at it, I wish I had centered the small tag a bit better, but I don't think she will mind!
Now on to the drawing table - I hope to have it free and clear!!
When I was in my twenties, I had a male friend who was taking flying lessons and once in a while I would go up with him and his teacher. I learned pretty quickly that you should never eat anything spicy such as tacos or pizza before you spent an hour or more in the back seat of a small plane! But after that initiation, I just fell in love with being up in the air.
When I was a young girl, I used to love to climb trees, the taller the better. My favorite were a stand of three pines which stood in a group and were tall and lean. I would climb as high as I could and then just lean back against the tree and enjoy the swaying dance it would do with the wind. It was quiet and peaceful and the slight sighing sound the wind makes through a pine tree was music to my ears. I often pretended to be a bird, and would try to imagine what it would feel like to fly to the trees across the yard, or across the road. I hated to come down and I would look forward to the next time I could climb back up.
Flying in a small plane brought a lot of that back. Of course, there was the noise from the engine, but the freedom to move through the sky was exhilarating! Seeing the familiar landmarks on the ground from a different vantage point, the marshes and rivers as winding dark stripes and the curvature of the earth was so exciting to me. I was never ready to land.
Once my friend's instructor invited us to ride with him on a night flight over the Charleston area. Since he wasn't flying, my friend took the back seat and I was pleased to be sitting up front. The pilot needed to put in so many hours each month to keep his license and we were just along for the ride. We took off from a small airport on one of the coastal islands and it was breathtaking once we were in the air. The stars were so bright and close with no light pollution to hide them. The lights below made everything look magical. The the pilot turned to me and said "Why don't you take the yoke?"
Gulp. "What??"
"Go ahead - I'm right here in case you get into trouble."
The plane had two steering wheels, or yokes, since it was a training plane so I had one right in front of me. I put me hands on it and then began to turn the plane and was so excited I could hardly breathe. We flew a little while longer, then he told me to turn the plane in the direction to take us back to the small airport. As we approached the airport, he suddenly reached over and grabbed my yoke and gave it a couple of quick jerks. "Good!" he told me, "You have an easy grip on it, not too tight."
"Now I want you to land the plane."
OK, flying was great , but..... landing? Then I heard myself say "REALLY?? ALRIGHT!!"
He guided me step by step, telling me what to do and when. Since I had been up several times, the terms he was using were familiar to me. I actually landed the plane and with a minimum of bumps!!
When we got out, I don't think my feet were touching the ground. He went into his office and came back out, smiling.
"Here, this is for you" and handed me a small black record book. "This is your very own Log Book and I entered the date and time as your first lesson. You're a natural!"
Sadly, I was never able to afford flying lessons and the Log Book just got tucked away and gathered dust. I thought about taking lessons recently, but after my two eye surgeries, and this illness, I don't think it's going to be possible. But I will always have that one night when I flew the plane among the stars and was able to land it without knocking any of them out of the sky!
Today I'm sharing a column from Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover. I was blessed to marry a man who has an extreme aversion to debt, and through the years we have put a lot of what Dave teaches into practice, before we ever knew who Dave Ramsey was. We have attended a live event with Dave Ramsey and it was a lot of fun and well worth the time. Since the budget and debt ceiling hoopla is everywhere on the news, I thought this would be worth reading. There is also a Facebook page, The Great Recovery where Dave is starting a movement for families and churches to join in and help move our country back to being debt free.
Dumb Debt Ceiling, Dumb D.C.
Not being scared of what's going on in Washington
JUL 28, 2011 | WRITTEN BY CHRIS RUSSELL
Quick show of hands: Who here has ever seen a movie?
All right ... that looks like everyone. Did you ever notice how a film can be scary, or action-packed, or suspenseful, or you wonder if the two lead characters will end up together—but since you are just watching from your theater seat, it really doesn't affect you?
That's a good way to sum up all the talk in Washington right now about thedebt ceiling. All this noise about not being able to pay Social Security checks, or how we'll suffer a catastrophic default on our debt (*COUGH*) if we don't raise the limit by August 2, or anything else is just a bunch of stinkers blowing a lot of smoke.
Yes, we need to reduce the national debt. It's very important to do that. But just like the masked killer isn't really bumping off teens at a summer camp (it's all makeup and camera angles), all the doomsday talk isn't as badas it's being made out to be.
Now, for someone who totally relies on government assistance to live, their gut is probably being wrenched right now. The thought of not receiving their check (which wouldn't be a big deal if they saved forretirement) would terrify them.
But for the person who makes their own living instead of having the government take care of them, they can sit back with some popcorn and watch all the fuss in Washington with some amusement.
We keep hammering on this point for a reason: Don't put yourself into a position where you rely on Washington to take care of you. They wouldn't care about you if they knew your situation firsthand. Republicans and Democrats are too busy arguing with each other, so solutions to your problems won't come from them. They come from you!
Your life means too much, and you are too capable, to just settle for a life provided by D.C. Go out and build your own wealth. Make your legacy great. Make it unique to you instead of being cookie-cutter.
That's the difference between you and debt. There's no ceiling on how high you can go.
As I have the energy, I am continuing with my art classes/workshops and I am currently still in the Chaos and Calm, Over the Edge Painting Techniques. I don't think I really knew how much fear I have about painting till I took this class. Most of my art has been mixed media, which I still love the best, but I am seeing growth with these classes.
Halfway there........
(click for details)
Asteroids in Red Space
(click for details)
It was hard to photograph, I think because of the glazing I did on it. It's done with acrylic on canvas panel and I am pleased with how it turned out, for a novice like me!
Growing up, I enjoyed reading Dick Tracy in the comics section of the Sunday paper. Chester Gould, Dick Tracy's creator, started out modeling the strip and the stories on the 1930's Chicago crime scene. The bad guys always had outlandish names (Flattop Jones, Odds Zonn) and the good guys always won. And the most fascinating item in his crime fighting repertoire was the "two way wrist radio".
For a child in the 1950's it was fun to think of being able to talk to someone by simply wearing a "phone". As the strip progressed, the wrist radio became a "2-way wrist TV". Wow, that was even better! If Flash Gordon (a 1950's TV show) could travel through space in a rocket with smoke exhaust coming out of the back, anything could happen!
Then in the 1980's came cell phones. Actually, the first commonly used phones were bag phones in a car - complete with a cord on the receiver. They couldn't be carried out of the car and you were limited in where you could call. Then of course, the technology started zooming and now we can do everything on a phone that we can do on a computer. And thirty years ago, (which isn't that long, people) it was all just a dream.
It's hilarious now to watch a movie from the 80's or 90's, or even after the year 2000 and see the differences in the phones. You can almost date a movie by the equipment the stars pull out of their vest pocket or purse. Some of them look so large and heavy, it's amazing they didn't rip out the guy's pocket!
In the 1950's, people usually had a black telephone which was installed in the central part of the house. There was even furniture which was made to hold the phone and also allow you to sit, so you could have a long conversation in comfort.
In high school, the cool girls were ones who had a phone installed in their bedrooms. Princess phones were considered the "in thing" to have. My parents thought that was ridiculous and so I was not a "cool girl".
I was thinking about this today when I "traded up " my cell phone. Back when I used to own an antiques business, my cell phone went everywhere I did. Now because of my illness, I hardly use my cell phone and when I took it in, my friends at the Verizon store started laughing when they saw it. And it was only 4 or 5 years old! My husband has a Droid for his business and I have to admit it's fun to use the GPS but for me to have something that expensive would be ridiculous (thank you, Mom & Dad) so I was happy with a basic phone with large enough keys for me to see. I splurged on a red cover for it though.
When my husband John and I married in 1981, we took a very simple honeymoon in the mountains of North Carolina. My husband is a man very adverse to debt, and since we paid for most of the wedding ourselves, we knew that the honeymoon had to be inexpensive, and of course still romantic. For us, being alone in the mountains, relaxing and spending time together, was something we both looked forward to. My roommate had a co-worker who owned a small A-frame mountain vacation home near Black Mountain, near the Blue Ridge Parkway, and gave us the use of it for the week following our wedding. We were very thankful for his generosity and even though it was June, the weather was cool and comfortable.
One of the places we visited that week was Mt. Mitchell, the highest peak east of the Mississippi River. We hiked some of the trails around the park there and afterward ate dinner at the restaurant that had just been built. It had a high arched ceiling of peeled pine logs and very large windows which afforded diners beautiful views in all directions.
When we went into the dining area, I noticed that there were very few people at the tables, so we almost had the entire place to ourselves. We settled in and began looking at the menus we had been given. Our server, or waitress, whichever you prefer, came to the table with her pad and pencil ready and waiting. She was on the tall side, had long wavy hair and a young, narrow face. And she was Perky. And she was Chatty.
She started right off talking to us and asking us where we were from and then began telling us about herself. She lived not very far from there, and had the distinct local accent and I think this was her first job. Hoping to head off more information than we wanted, I asked her what she would recommend from the menu. She enthusiastically replied. "Whah the rost beef is just wonnerful! Thayt's what thayt guy is having- right thayer" and she pointed to a man dining alone about three tables from us.
She turned to him and said very loudly "Isn't thayt rost beef just wonnerful? Jus go 'head an tell these folks how wonnerful it is!"
We stared, first at her and then at the poor guy. He looked speechless for a second, and then shook his head slowly and shrugged. We heard him mumble "Uhh, no..... it's just okay."
His response didn't seem to deter her at all, in fact she seemed determined that we should have the roast beef. She began chattering about the chef, and how talented he was, and we finally interrupted her and told her that was okay, we really didn't want the roast beef and we settled on burgers and fries. After taking our order, she started off, then whirled around and said,
"Y'all know what else? Ah ken sing too! Didja want to har me sing?" which sounded like "sang" when she said the word.
"Well, umm," we replied, "that's all right. We believe you. You don't have to sing"
"But you'd love to har me, Ah ken sang real good!"
"Thanks, but that's all right, we're kind of hungry and...."
Without letting us finish, she began belting out Elvira. That was the summer of 1981 and Elvira was a hit song that year sung by the Oak Ridge Boys. It wasn't a song we particularly liked, and certainly not as a solo before dinner! She even did the "oom papa mau mau's". I was expecting someone to come out of the kitchen and stop her, but no one ever came.
We never knew why she sang to us, I guess she was hoping to get a break into country music. Perhaps she sang to everyone that sat at her tables, or she was related to the owner, I don't know. This was long before American Idol was a hit on TV, and she wasn't that great anyway although she certainly had the twang. We haven't been back there, so I don't know if the restaurant is still open. If it is, she may still be in there serenading her customers!
In case you aren't familiar with the song, I found this on Youtube for your enjoyment!
I was living on the Isle of Palms, one of the sea islands around Charleston, when my future husband moved into the old house next door. My roommate and I often had him over for dinner and he was always very good company. Right before he became our neighbor, there were three of us living in the upstairs of an old beach house, but as I related in another story, we lost our third roommate and with her also went a couple of items we needed to replace. She had the only vacuum cleaner between us, which was rather funny considering she did no housecleaning (see A Questionable Roommate) and after she left, we were reduced to cleaning the floors with a broom. When you are living in a sandy environment, it would sometimes feel that you never really got things clean at all!
We were bemoaning this fact one evening when John was visiting and he told us that we were welcome to use his vacuum cleaner. We were elated and arranged to get it the next day after he had returned from work.
John is a highly intelligent man who has a background in civil and environmental engineering and through the years he has had several papers published and as been asked to lead lectures at a national and state level. At that time, all we knew was that he was a smart and nice guy. And hey, he even knew how to clean a house - we didn't know too many men who owned a vacuum cleaner!
So, the next day, he brought it over and told us we could bring it back when we were through. Now, it may sound silly but we were excited to finally get all of the gritty sand off of the floors and rugs. My roommate used it first in her room, and I did some other chores. I finished before she did and waited for my turn with the machine so that I could clean my room.
I could hear the vacuum cleaner running, and after a while it occurred to me that she was much slower than I expected. Finally, she came out with it and passed it to me. As I turned I noticed a somewhat perplexed look on her face, but I didn't comment.
I clicked the "on" switch, the little motor started up and I began to pass the nozzle over the floor. As I walked behind the hose, I could feel grains of sand under my bare feet. So I turned and redid the area, thinking I had skipped a portion of it. No, again there were still grains of sand, albeit not as many. Anyway, that's the way it was around the entire room- having to redo areas several times before it felt clean. After putting in more time than we had expected with the vacuuming, we both agreed that the problem was that it need a new bag, so we took it back to John's house. The ensuing conversation went something like this:
"Hey, thanks for the loan of the vacuum cleaner."
"You're welcome! I hope it helped."
"Well, we think it needs a new bag. There didn't seem to be much suction."
"uhhh, bag?"
"Yes, you know, the bag where the dirt goes - it needs changing."
Silence. Bemused look on John's face. Puzzled looks on our faces.
"Didn't you know you needed to change the bag?" I finally asked in surprise.
"Well, no, not really....."
"But where did you think the dirt went??" I blurted out.
He shrugged, looking embarrassed and then we all burst out laughing. My sweet, bright, highly intelligent future husband had been given the cleaner by his mom when he had moved out of his parent's home at the beginning of Grad School. He had used the vacuum cleaner in the several years since then and not once changed the bag or knew he had to! After we had calmed down from laughter, we opened up the cleaner, and pulled out the bag - jammed to the brim and hard as a brick. He bought new bags the next day, but the poor motor had been strained and never worked very well.
My husband has had to put up with me retelling this story down through the years, and his good natured smile is a reminder that it's a blessing not to take yourself too seriously!
