A Slow out of the Gate Sunday
I got up chomping the bit yesterday; cleaned house, worked in the garden weeding and chopping the roses that died in the cold we had this winter. The eight plus foot tall fragrant old florabunda is down to about three tiny sprouts of less than three inches in height. Same with the others, black and dead. I sawed, used my geared pruner, and hauled trash can after trash can of debris. So proud of myself. At 1am I woke up to every muscle in my body screaming "what did you think you were doing?"
Ugh, I am not a creature of evenly timed habits, I crash and burn, rest up, and go like 60 until I crash and burn again. Kind of making hay while the sun shines. I made myself some herbal tea, took two ibuprophen and went back to sleep, same thing at 5am, then I woke up late, but I feel better, happier. Nothing like working your angst out on helpless shrubbery that needs to go away anyway.
It sprinkled before I got up and my Sunday paper had not quite made it to the porch and was soggy. I was going to call my paper girl for another when I remembered how she left my paper on my porch dry and safe all through our nasty freeze and snow so I hung the wet pages up on the chairs in the kitchen to dry insrtead. It read just fine and then I decide to save the papers and do a project with my granddaughters making paper mache' animals like I did with my own kids eons ago. Some one in the family still has a lime green elephant I made. So that's why I've saved all that decorative stuff I have, ribbons, trims, beads, button, and wiggly eyes.
Then I read my blogs, much better than the paper here anyway. Thanks to all of you who were so encouraging about my shoving myself back into making art. It's funny how saying my hopes out loud, among my blogging friends makes me think about why I haven't done anything. Then I noticed this:
All my good brushes, some from college, and best colored pencils are in the kitchen being guarded by ducks and a Chinese checkers game. My easel is in another room. My paints are in the closet. What's wrong with this picture? I moved them.
Not the space I really wanted but I've stalled long enough to because I don't have the right space. Now easel, canvas, paints (sitting on the printer), brushes, and palette are meeting in the same place. Hooray!
Ugh, I am not a creature of evenly timed habits, I crash and burn, rest up, and go like 60 until I crash and burn again. Kind of making hay while the sun shines. I made myself some herbal tea, took two ibuprophen and went back to sleep, same thing at 5am, then I woke up late, but I feel better, happier. Nothing like working your angst out on helpless shrubbery that needs to go away anyway.
It sprinkled before I got up and my Sunday paper had not quite made it to the porch and was soggy. I was going to call my paper girl for another when I remembered how she left my paper on my porch dry and safe all through our nasty freeze and snow so I hung the wet pages up on the chairs in the kitchen to dry insrtead. It read just fine and then I decide to save the papers and do a project with my granddaughters making paper mache' animals like I did with my own kids eons ago. Some one in the family still has a lime green elephant I made. So that's why I've saved all that decorative stuff I have, ribbons, trims, beads, button, and wiggly eyes.
Then I read my blogs, much better than the paper here anyway. Thanks to all of you who were so encouraging about my shoving myself back into making art. It's funny how saying my hopes out loud, among my blogging friends makes me think about why I haven't done anything. Then I noticed this:
All my good brushes, some from college, and best colored pencils are in the kitchen being guarded by ducks and a Chinese checkers game. My easel is in another room. My paints are in the closet. What's wrong with this picture? I moved them.
Not the space I really wanted but I've stalled long enough to because I don't have the right space. Now easel, canvas, paints (sitting on the printer), brushes, and palette are meeting in the same place. Hooray!
Labels: making art
posted by Celia | May 29, 2011
8 Comments:
I loved your comment on Judy's blog "Imagine" and decided to jump on over and say "Hi". So glad you are getting your art supplies in one place...that's step #1. It will be fun to see what ensues.
Celia, I am on RedBubble as me, not Tabor. But if you searched a little you just might recognize a photo or two. I just joined about a month ago.
Yes, your on the way. I can hardly wait to say "I knew her when".
Celia, I just read this on Freda Marshall's blog and it spoke to me. Maybe it will help you with your painting.
Some words from Gandhi – worth thinking about.
Your beliefs become your thoughts
Your thoughts become your words
Your words become your actions
Your actions become your habits
Your habits become your values
Your values become your destiny
I commented on my last post how you can find me on RedBubble.com. Also, thank SO MUCH for being brave enough to critique that silly photo. I may do this again some day with a photo that I really like, but that haunts me for some reason.
Just marvelous. Yes, my art stuff is scattered everywhere. One of these days.....
don't forget to factor in age when you go racing out of the gate on some days, girl! :) the difference in the old mares is heard in the voice that screams out in the middle of the night while looking for ibuprofen!
so glad to see you getting your space ready for your art work. :)) i will be your puget sound cheerleader!
One thing you might try that helps me when I can't get motivated-- buy some 8x10" canvases. Michaels sells them in packages at a very cheap price. There is something about a tiny canvas that makes a person feel like-- hey I can do that. It leads to bigger ones then. They are also nice to take out into the garden as easy to handle and then paint directly from whatever you wanted to paint. There is an emotional aspect to that which painting anywhere else doesn't get for me
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