Finish Something Already!!!

Studio time continues to elude me.  On the mom front, I am scrambling to get my son ready for a Spring Break trip to Germany.  As the mother of a teenager, I should be immune to his disinterested, uncooperative efforts to pull things together, particularly when his brain is focused on *#*%&@ video/computer games.  We have created a monster.  He thinks "old people" are nuts for wanting to spend money on things like travel when they have nothing to show for it, as opposed to spending money on a new hand-held game system that will be obsolete three hours after production when a newer, shinier, faster model comes out.  Not that I'm feeling a bit sarcastic or unappreciated.  Oh, no.  But I feel better after 1) having found the plug adapter he needs for his charging devices in EXACTLY the spot I told him to look yesterday (he said he did and it wasn't there) and 2) tossing the enormous pile of clothes from the floor of his closet to the middle of the bedroom floor (I should have been wearing a gas mask) while the monster load he did manage to get into the laundry room (two days after laundry was finished) is being washed.  Grrrrrrrr.  I think the next trip will be reserved for the parents who appreciate it!!!  The little savage....

On the art side, it's Monday.  This is the regular day that I bring home from school my young friend and Kevin's classmate Jasmine, a mature and artistic young lady who inspires me to get to work.  We decided last week that we need to craft while we yap or we'll get nothing but yapping (OK, and a little snacking) done for the afternoon.  Jasmine stays through dinner until her mother is finished with graduate school classes, so it's one day a week where I'm guaranteed getting a little something accomplished.  I'm quite tardy, having made incredibly little progress on the project for the Susan Sorrell online course.  Today's the day!  Tomorrow is a post of the photo!

Alas, having a studio cat has been a little bit of a problem when that cat frequently an upset stomach.  I will spare the details other than to say that I am the happy owner of a carpet cleaner and my rug isn't all that big.  Another ugh.

Lessons Learned the Hard Way

I have been advised in every way, shape and form of the importance of sketching and brainstorming on paper, but never really got it.  Today I got it.  I have spent two weeks bonking my head against a virtual wall trying to complete step 2 of the online class I'm taking.  It shouldn't be this hard!  I think I've said this a few times before.  The task was to come up with a quote or lyrics from a song or something and create a simple image for it on a 7 inch square of assembled fabric layers.  I looked at books, magazines, clip art, junk mail, and web sites, all the while having a blank brain.  Argh!  I have had to remind myself over and over again that the point of this exercise is to learn a technique and NOT to expect to produce a family heirloom.  There is seriously no chance of that happening!  This is where I am so far:

Initially, the inner "filling" was too firm and impossible to stitch through with a full six strands of embroidery floss.  I took it apart, replaced the filling, and settled on a theme.  We'll see what it looks like after tomorrow.

I Have a Studio Cat!

About a week and a half ago, I saw a scroungy black cat skulking on the back deck and shooed it away.  I noticed the cat stagger a bit, lean on a bucket, and thought that it looked quite ill.  It slunk under the deck to hide.  The next evening I saw it again, and this time I noticed that it was more than just sick.  It appeared to be starving and, worse, blind.  I started putting food out for the kitty and on closer look, saw that the poor thing was also de-clawed.  This is clearly a lost pet.  With no success combing adverts for lost kitties and posting my own "Found Cat" notices on the internet, I knew I had to either take her in or find her a suitable home or she would likely die and soon.  Days of torrential weather and neighborhood gardeners scaring her to death with lawnmowers and leaf blowers delayed our trip to the vet.  We finally made it yesterday.  We were informed that "Tabitha" is 14-15 years old and is, in fact, blind due to detached retinas as the result of hyperthyroidism and related hypertension and cardiac issues.  She is free of all of the bad and communicable kitty cooties, and has now been vaccinated for anything and everything.  If we were to treat her hyperthyroid condition, she'll go faster into kidney failure.  The vet suggested that no matter what, she'll eventually just poop out.  Giving her love, attention and plenty of food will make her last days happy.  We're hoping for a lot of days.  Because we have two indoor kitties, one of which is a bit of a bully that delights in the whooping of weaker kitties, Tabitha is in the garage studio.  She actually seems to love her spot.  She's assumed ownership of my work chair and immediately discovered the makeshift litter box (an overpriced service tray from Target with the handle holes taped shut as a regular litter box has sides that are too high for a blind kitty).  She's eating like there's no tomorrow, adding a tiny bit of weight so that she now weighs 6.5 lbs.  Only 6.5 lbs.  I hope that she is just a lost kitty and that she is not here because some horrible pet parent decided to just open the door and be rid of a kitty with medical issues (which the vet reported they see a lot).  I can't imagine how terrified she must have been in the dark, lost and starving, not even able to hunt (we saw lizards run past her unnoticed, then saw a gross possum eating her food one night just a few feet away from her, to which she was oblivious) and then terrorized by the sounds of packs of yipping coyotes at night.

I'm happy to have another kitty to love until and unless someone else wants to give her a quiet little indoor home.  Studio cats are a good thing.

OK, I know she's not in the studio in the photo, but all the noise in there today scared her.  I HAD to make a cover for my Bernina, so she zoomed outside to enjoy the super hot day (following sleet just six days ago?!?) until I got her settled in for the evening.  All is well.

Re-do!

This week I was to start the online class I've been excitedly anticipating for months offered by Susan Sorrell.  The supplies list was provided via email, and I was off to the shops!  How frustrating that so many of the items that one would expect to be readily available are nowhere to be found in my area!  I've gone to the fabric store (only one within 12 miles) and Michael's looking for a size 2 or 3 embroidery needle and specific brands (two suggested) of beading thread.  It's SO frustrating to have such limited merchandise available in actual brick and mortar stores.  I'm the first to admit that I love shopping on the internet for a lot of things, but I don't want to spend a fortune to ship a $3 item.  Argh!!!

I wish I'd had access to the photos in the tutorial prior to shopping.  The items I bought for embellishment, the fabrics I selected and the batting would all have been very different.

Once I got the lessons and photos downloaded, I looked at the images of the fabric Susan uses and was happy to see that she incorporates a lot of batiks as the base fabric.  Yeah!  I have a lot.  However, the big fat needle with the big fat (full six strands) of embroidery floss have to easily pass through two layers of fabric and a layer of batting in between.  Ugh.  The batiks were all too tightly woven or had too heavy a coating of who-knows-what that made me look like I was wrestling an anaconda trying to pull it through.  That and I must admit to a little cursing while I wrestled.  It's not like I'm a novice at embroidery or sewing.  I've been doing this stuff since I was ten years old.  But double argh with the walls I'm hitting.

So I've cut different fabrics, different batting and am on a mission today to try to find the elusive embroidery needles in the proper size.  If nothing else, I'll sell a kidney and pay for a needle to be shipped.  Sheesh.

Noise, Noise, Noise

Having promised myself more studio time, I ran around cleaning like a mad woman this morning, working to the point that I would not die of embarrassment if someone came to the door unannounced (and closing the bedroom door because that room would NOT pass the test).  I raced off to the nearest fabric store to find the last few items I need for an online class that starts tomorrow, then prepared to get to work.  That's when the lumberjacks down the street set up their line of orange cones in the road and starting taking down what I think is an oak tree (city slickers are never sure of much more than that it's a tree) that is twice as high and as wide as the house in front of which it sits.  We have the most marvelous sunny and warm weather today, and I can't work out there without ear plugs.  Argh!!! 

Maybe it's time to whip out the iPod and just do what I can.  I only have an hour and a half before I have to step into the mom shoes and zip off to school.  There isn't enough time in a day.

More "Self Taught" Mess

On the art front:  Today I was reading an article about one of my favourite artists, Chris Roberts Antieau, appreciating that in addition to being self-taught, she collects the art of primarily self-taught artists herself.  Something tells me that my work will never make it to her house.  There is nothing more frustrating than just flat out not knowing what I'm doing, sure that somebody, somewhere, knows exactly how to do what I'm trying to do, just not me.

The ever-evolving figurative piece is currently the bane of my existence.  Art isn't supposed to be this frustrating.  Either I sit here with a blank brain, or I just start doing "stuff" to it to try to make it better, often just making it chaotic.  Arghhhhh!  The artists who say, "Just do something!" are putting me in a bit of a slapping mood.  So I've tied wire, cut the wire off, removed the working stand, tried incorporating paper (it looks cool, but too much like a dress on a masculine-faced piece), took off the paper, tore the paper, stitched the paper, shoved it up the caboose of the piece again (it was good for a chuckle, but not a good look), and finally started cutting heavy wire to create a modern base.  This paragraph makes about as much sense as the pile of debris on my desks looks like art.  Not much.

On the Mom front: I woke up in the middle of the night, stressing that I've missed not one boat, but an entire fleet in getting my #2 child prepared to go to college in less than two years.  Child #1 was the most self-directed academic-minded child I ever knew.  She was obsessive about doing well in school, thinking about college when her age was still in the single-digit range.  Child #2 says to me when he got a D on his report card a couple of years ago, "Hey, at least it wasn't an F!" as if I should be thrilled with that little bit of information.  Because, hey, I should have known a "D" wasn't all that bad, right?  I feel wicked wondering if I invest in one of those pricey classes to help prepare him for the SAT exam if he'll even study or care.  When I ask, I get a hint of the right answer, but no sense of commitment.  Right now, I'm obsessed with pointing out sad jobs (like the poor blokes that do nothing but throw suitcases on airplanes, and often the wrong plane at that) and tell Kevin that THEY didn't go to COLLEGE.  He chuckles, I keep looking for more examples and hope it will inspire him to care one tenth as much as I do.

Moving on to Plan C

Today I made up for dodging housework yesterday, though I had an ulterior motive.  The mom in me is hosting yet another party here tomorrow, providing an opportunity for all the kids going to Europe with the German teacher during spring break (five each from two different schools) to get to know each other prior to meeting up at the airport for departure.  I was determined to find my lost (incomplete) art journal while I cleaned. 

I found more than I bargained for - old chocolate.  Thinking the journal may have been tucked under a cushion of one of the sofas (having been last spotted in the living room), I lifted the cushions, knowing I'd be sure to find something scary along with the usual treasure of coins and maybe a pen or pencil.  What I found were two full-sized candy bars in one sofa, along with a few other remnants of Halloween.   Now I'm trying to figure out how someone unwittingly managed to get TWO big, fat candy bars under a couch cushion without realizing it, or what goober thought this would be a nifty hiding place and just forgot to retrieve their loot.  When I picked up my son from high school today and told him about the gruesome discovery, he lit up like a Christmas tree and asked with great excitement in his voice, if I had brought them with me.  Seriously?  Did I bring the butt-imprinted, likely months-old candy bars in the car on a hot day to offer as a snack?  What's more gross?  Finding logs of candy in the furniture, or having someone eagerly anticipate the snack?  As predicted, my son made a beeline for the candy when we got home and (gag) ate one of the bars.  Now I'm just curious.  Will my 26 year old daughter, the world's #1 chocolate addict, lunge for the other candy bar?  Now it's just a freakish experiment in bizarre human behavior and addiction.

Anyway, I looked absolutely everywhere for the journal for hours.  The house is ridiculously clean, but there was no journal.   As I was about to throw in the towel (followed by a fit of frustration), I found it!  One last look inside the books that had recently been moved to the studio revealed the journal tucked in for safekeeping, I assume.  Whew!  Now I can get to work and finish the pages before I ship it off to my sister for the final step in our swap.

The figurative project I'm working on continues to make me think harder than I want to think.  After working on it for a while and then setting it aside, I really took a long and hard look to see if I could figure out what was making me most nuts about it.  Primarily, it looked too much like a shepherd with the ever-so-wrong fiber mixed in with the wire.  After plucking out all of the fiber, I knew I had a lot more wire to add to fill the empty space.  I have no finished look in mind.  I just know I don't like what I see and start changing it.  Several hours, a few coats of paint, several feet of copper wire and some faux-gold leaf later, I was a bit more satisfied.  I worked without thinking much, just letting it happen.  My husband was happy to hear that I'd spent such a good chunk of time in the studio and I was eager to show him the product of the hours committed to trying to improve the piece. 

This was Plan A in progress.  The stand and dowel are simply "holders" while I work, not intended to be part of the finished project.

The first words out of his mouth were, "Oooh!  Mardi Gras!"  Sigh.  This was not what I expected.  As I look at it, I understand his comment.  Now what?  It's NOT supposed to look like anything mardi gras.  Here's the before and after.  It's time to move to Plan C.

This is the current state of affairs for this piece.  The photo is messy, taken on the studio desk in frustration and without the proper and tidy backdrop.  I'll have to work on that.  Again, the dowel and stand are just to support it while I work.

While I allow myself to get frustrated at times and critique more than create, it really felt good to just make something.  Rereading the quote I posted recently, I am reminded that I'm not at this to create a masterpiece.  I'm creating for the joy of creating, learning as I go (things like don't have the big garage door open while working with leafing foil, especially if it's windy) and trying new techniques.  I won't get any better if I don't try and try again.  Regardless of the finished product, getting my hands dirty and playing again matter more than whether or not I need to move on to Plan C or D or even W.  I have succeeded just a bit in quieting my inner critic.  She's whispering as opposed to yelling.  I'll take what I can get.