Personal Archaeology

I started digging out our walk-in closet today. You can put an awful lot of crap in one of those construction weight black plastic bags, but then you have to lift it up. I was appalled to find that much of the clothing I was getting rid of would be rejected by Goodwill. I made the mistake of going through an old art portfolio that I have been dragging from closet to closet for some forty years. A lot more crap went into the bag. Why do we keep some things? Seems as if creatures real and imagined, dark views and riotous colors have always been part of my art heart. This was our cat Moses. Probably the only time I've ever been able to capture a real likeness.

The Wheel of Life

It turns for us all.

No, I have not "run oft" with pirates. I have lately been consumed with the logistics of returning to the rat race. I couldn't do it without the love and support of my family.

So far it's a day-long proposition but if and when I get past the training period I will have some time for the studio again.

In the meantime, I put myself to sleep at night putting the finishing touches on a few of the summer quilts and making notes and sketches for future projects.

I've reinstituted my practice of turning a Tarot card while sitting at a light in traffic. This morning - the Queen of Cups.

I have been both chastened and enlightened.

Wild Baby Blue Launching Pad

Between setting up electronic banking stuff, general correspondence and the usual ether-wandering I feel like I've spent the better part of the day on the computer. It's stuff I won't have the idle time to do starting tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to starting the new gig. Feels like the first day of school. I'll still find the time to do as much as moves me in the studio only it will be as the schedule says I can. Maybe I'll be more productive with someone else setting up the whens. I finished this little quilt off last night and gave it a good thrash in the washer and dryer just to make sure it's fit for public opinion. It is. An heirloom in waiting, I've just posted it over at my Etsy place just to see what sort of traffic it brings. I've let that little cyber shop languish a long time. There are detail shots and lots of marketing babble over there too.

Changes Afoot

The painting does not go well. A much as I wanted it to, it never did for me. I can only think of one canvas that, once finished, satisfied me. In dim recollection, it was something I dashed off as decoration for the new nursery, some thirty years ago and so had an important purpose beyond my mere need to fling colors around. All the hard edges that we create when piecing fabric become impossible boundaries when recreated in two dimensions with paint. So far,I've only painted ground colors. The need to have to fashion the effects of the texture of fabric and stitching with paint confounds me. Once the studio warms up, I'll give it another go before I gesso over the whole mess. On a completely different note, I'm delighted to have found a full time job. It's going to be familiar - when AT&T dragged us from NY to GA I spent three years of hell taking inbound telemarketing calls - but there won't be any "marketing" in this position. There's room for advancement - my IT skills and experience were noted, and so, back into the workforce we go! I am deeply grateful.

Crossing back over to the darkside

It's been thirty years since the last time I painted a canvas. I had to open some of the paint tubes with a pair of pliers. Jimmy gave me this easel for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. What did he know that I didn't. I had the alligator dream again last night. It was either paint or start looking for drugs. I made this piece while waiting for the paint to dry. It's going to be one of the book's pages I think. Some people are better at waiting than others.