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Friday, April 17, 2015

Celebrate The Small Things

I sat down at my desk this morning and realized that is was Friday.
I knew it was Friday.
But as I sat at the desk, I KNEW it was Friday.

As in:
I haven't done a blog post yet.
Laundry needs to be done today.
A large canvas I started is whispering at me to finish it.



Brenna has a dr. appt. this afternoon AND it's Light and Power Prom tonight.
The calendar screamed at me that my next show is two weeks away.




As I feel the familiar fear creeping into my body, I decide to listen to Rend Collective on Pandora and write out the quote,
"Celebrate the small things."



How often do you do this?
If you are like me, it isn't much. 
I'm better at throwing a party to tell myself I haven't done enough.

So not inspiring. 
So bad for my internal health.

Today?
I'm gonna practice turning it around.
Let's celebrate.




Did you forget to write a blog post on the only day you write one?
Write a little one, put a picture up and say, "Happy Friday, friends!" 
Now go outside and lift your face to the sun and say "Yes. Thank you."

Was there a load of laundry done? Maybe not three or four, but one?
Dude. 
Buy yourself a CUPCAKE.


art journal entry done with Rapido Sketch pen .35 and Staedtler pigment liner 0.5


How about lunch? 
Maybe there might have been an apple in there somewhere instead of just the left over bag of baked cheetos consumed.
That deserves a big HOORAY and a pat on the back.
Way to go, you.

See?
Doesn't the day seem a little better?


30x30 canvas in progress

I'm gonna practice this all day today and see what happens.

Happy Friday, friends.
I'm going outside to say thank you.
Love to you.


Linking to










Friday, April 10, 2015

Puppy Love


Meet June.

 She's a ten-week-old-puppy-breath-bundle of love.
And she isn't mine.
Nope.
June belongs to my eldest daughter and son-in-law.




However, Miss June has been spending time with us for a couple of days while her "mom and dad" settle into their new digs.


Not that we mind.
June shares a lot, and likes to lay on a blanket in my art room.
I know, I know. She'll wake up any day now.
But by that time she will be at her house with mom and pop.
So, I'll soak up the puppy love for a few days.

Do you remember those first weeks with a puppy at night?
I think I've blacked them out. It's seriously been so long that all it took was one sleepless night to remember why I don't ever want a puppy again.
God Bless my daughter and her husband-youth is on their side.
I'll just do a puppy fix and hand her back.



Speaking of love-
I think you might love these....
(geez. what a segue.)

I call them "Small Truths" and they will be available at the Red Dirt Art Festival, Saturday, May 2nd.

AAAAANNNNDDD...

The Balboa Art Walk, Sunday, May 17th.
yay!




They are simple, but carry a hefty message with each one.
The size is approximately 5x5 and they can hang or tuck into a bookcase or a bedside table or even a kitchen back splash to bring some truth into your day.



Short and sweet today, as I'm short on sleep...



 But very blessed.
Enjoy your weekend!

linking to


Thursday, March 26, 2015

Hooray for Friday


Happy Friday.
Man, this week went by fast.

I have been buckling down in the art room to get ready for the 
Saturday, May 2
10:00-5:00
It will be the 10th Anniversary!



I'm working on (new) designs for the (vintage) book pages.




I love the new quotes I have come across that really fit with the pages.



journal page done with dylusions spray, black staedtler .01 pen and copic marker.

I'm doing some journal work in between pages, wondering where all these birds will end up!
The lettering is getting to be more and more fun for me to do.
It will be even better when I find a light that is somewhat portable and has super powers.
Until then, I'll be working on the lines around my eyes by doing my squinting exercises.


More birds and little bitty canvases. Some birds stay in the journal, others take flight...


Hoping you are taking flight this weekend!

Linking to 
















Thursday, March 19, 2015

Opening My Eyes and Throwing In The Towel.



Spring Break has sprung and honestly?
I'm over it.
It just hasn't been one of our best. 
In fact, I call it a perfect storm.
A husband working two weeks straight, a sick child, disappointments, frustrations, a child barfing everywhere due to antibiotics, a heat wave, a big no- well, you get the idea.






I'm not one to whine. 
But for crying out loud.



There were a couple of highlights..

Brenna made cake pops with a friend and I ate a lot of them.
We went bowling.

How is it, though, in the midst of such a storm it's a struggle to see the good? 
Maybe that's just the nature of a storm.


art journal done in left over gelli print paint, anthropologie magazine cut out and vintage sheet music.



I tried going through my manifesto, a little art journaling, turning up the music, sleeping in, coffee, you name it.

I gave up last Sunday and stayed home from church and took coffee outside and dug into a fabulous article written by Emily P. Freeman, entitled "When Your Heartbeat Feels Like A Drumbeat".
In the post, Emily talks about longing and limitations and meeting Jesus at the intersection of the two.
It stopped me in my tracks (at the intersection) and had me re - thinking a lot and just plain thinking.




Even though there have been multiple times I have thrown in the towel on the day over the last two weeks, the post has opened my eyes and heart in ways I was just not expecting, and kind of redeemed the last few days in a hard but beneficial way. In a bending metal with your bare hands good kind of way. Not really the throwing confetti good kind of way. But good.


Maybe Spring Break hasn't been a total wash.
 But holy moly, I'll be glad to see next week.


Linking to:









Thursday, March 12, 2015

Hello, Fifty Three





I was at a store yesterday, treating myself to a little pre-birthday present.
Under those hideous fluorescent lights, I began the horrible realizations of aging. As I bent over to examine what had happened to my legs over the last year, I began the descent into being hyper-critical of myself.

I tossed everything back and burst through the doors into the fresh air. As the glow of the fluorescent lights faded, I came to a realization:

NO.

 I gave myself two minutes of mourning my aging legs, and began finding positive words.
Going with it, I have written my own manifesto. 

Here goes:



This year, I will continue to gather.


I will find art each day. 
I will find it in the simple things, I will create it. I will make it happen and I will share it.

I will buy some chicks, feed them, keep them warm and nurture them into giving us fresh eggs.




I will always wear sunscreen. Sunshine is meant to be enjoyed in vast quantities, preferably in or near water.
I might even wear a hat.
I will look at my legs that I have inherited from my father and stand up for them. I won't hide them away, but I will protect them just a little more. 
I will begin yoga and return to swimming. 
I refuse to be a hardbody.

I will say thank you every day and keep record of things I am grateful for. 
I will tell my family that I love them with words and actions.




I will practice spiritual white space. 
I will raise my hands when I sing and lift my face up to the One who desires to infuse great joy to my life. I will remind myself that every single day, there are new mercies waiting for me.
Every day.

I will continue to dance in my kitchen and list my favorite songs and REVEL in their variety. 




Best of all,

I will throw my head back and laugh as many times as possible and for as long as I need to.
I will not say no to tears.
I will seek wise counsel. 
I will be willing:
To learn
To say I don't know
To ask for help
and
I will not fall apart at disapproval.

I will make every effort to be nice to myself when I just cannot seem to get all my sh*t together and my brain has ceased to be young and fresh and I am hot for no reason. 
Because this will pass.

Amen.



Linking to



Friday, March 6, 2015

Menopause and Feathers


I don't really know what Menopause and feathers have to do with each other, but that's pretty much what sums up my brain right now and therefore is blog fodder.

Also, my computer is fixed!!!! 
A word to the wise:
When Apple tells you to install new RAM, they may or may not forget to tell you that the PRAM needs to be reset. Don't even ask me what a PRAM is. I don't know, nor do I care. Nope, I don't. 

All though I probably should because the guys at another computer store told me I needed to replace the hard drive, then told me the processor was out and I needed a new computer.
So, maybe I do care about the PRAM. 
Onward on my newly reset computer.....

I'm on a roll with birds and feathers in the art department.
My newest Pinterest board is slowly but surely gaining steam as I pin whatever I can find on birds and feathers.
Doing this also seems to calm my menopausal brain.
My first obsession was with pheasant feathers.



Done in a loose fashion here, I actually like it paired with the soft pinks. Which is unusual, as I am not a pink sorta gal.


Which makes me laugh as I look at this next picture with the large red-pink circle on this page of a practice art journal.


Then, I saw a gorgeous photo of a peacock. You know the kind of photo-it looks better than the real bird.
Aaaannnddd, I was off and running.
The colors!
They would be better on that pink practice journal.

I used my Caran D'Arche crayons and thought to myself,



"Can life get any better? I'm COLORING for crying out loud."

I bet in some medical journal some doctor wrote a journal article proving that Coloring and feathers help menopause brain. 

So does Wild Orange essential oil, cutting out sugar, and a husband who doesn't mind if I am "raw", but that's for another type of blog.
This blog is about coloring.


Just so I can prove I don't have dementia, I remembered an outing with my middle sister as I was coloring.
 I can't remember where we were, nor can I recall what we were doing. BUT.

I can remember it involved a peacock and that my sister and the peacock had the most amazing conversation. 
Somehow, my sister picked up on speaking peacock, and whenever the bird would make a noise, my sister would make some back, with lots and lots of enthusiasm and that silly bird kept responding for what seemed like an eternity.
I think we were supposed to take him home, but somehow that got lost in translation.

Either that or my mother kiboshed the idea.
She wouldn't let me keep a horse in the front yard, either.

And yes. Kibosh is a word in the dictionary.
Your welcome.


O.K., gotta go and draw more feathers to help my brain.
Have a great weekend!


Linking to Paint Party Friday











Thursday, February 19, 2015

Keep Calm And....

When the Geek Squad tells you that your laptop needs to be replaced, you keep calm and blog anyway you can.