We had a ball at Carmi’s Commandos tonight. The project was making an ATC from fabric and fusible webbing—something I’ve never done before, and it’s so much fun. Carmi walked us through each step…well, mainly me since everyone else seemed to know what they were doing.
Then Carmi showed me how to use the sewing machine. Me! A person who went to a school where I studied Latin and Religious Knowledge instead of Home Economics. (Good for the roots of words and my spirit…bad for things like cooking and sewing). Anyway, now I’m hooked on the whole fabric thing and I swore I would never be when I’ve got so many talented friends doing it like Carmi, Colette and Martha.
Then each of us showed our challenge for this meeting: altering letters of the alphabet. I was lucky this time because I got the letter X, which had to be the easiest letter to do something with. I did my usual minimalist shtick, and fortunately I was first, because it just got better after that. Carolyn covered hers with metal work, Aracely mounted her letter on two elephants, and Karen covered hers with polymer clay. Wow, what a talented bunch of friends I have. It was a great evening. Thanks so much Carmi!P.S. Mary, we missed you, and I have the next challenge for you. (And it is a challenge).
I wrote an article on blogging for the July/August issue of RubberStampMadness and there are three blogs you should definitely check out if you’re a stamper.
First, there’s Debbie Olson of Norway, Michigan who has all sorts of cool samples on her site, particularly cards. She is an excellent writer so it’s always interesting to read about her creative process.
Then there’s Godelieve Tijskens of of Neerpelt, Belgium who has a great bilingual blog crammed with all sorts of neat samples, and she’s generous with instructions too.
And finally, Steven Vander Meer who is the owner and designer of Meer Images Rubber Stamps in Arcata, California. I love how he shares the process from initial sketch to finished stamp.I reread the article tonight for the first time since writing it, and now I’m thinking I’d like to give my own blog a whole new look when I’m finished writing my book.
I had to go on a mad tear trying to find a client’s files today. I looked everywhere methodically, while trying not to freak. Had I tossed them out six weeks ago when I went on a huge clean and purge?
After a couple of hours of heavy duty looking, I found them underneath my Xyron. What possessed me to put them there I’ll never know. John told me I always have a good reason for putting things where I do. The only problem is that I usually forget it in the meantime.While I was looking for the files, I came across all sorts of nifty stuff like books, rubber stamps, stickers, paper, paint etc. that I’d forgotten I had. I think I’m going to treat myself to a day of sifting through all my art supplies in the near future, There’s something so satisfying about grazing through all the possibilities without actually feeling that you have to do anything with them.
I took a break from my book tonight to learn something new in Photoshop and to work on our club assignment for Friday night.
One of the books I got for Christmas was Photoshop CS2 Killer Tips, but I didn’t take a good look at it until this weekend. Some of the stuff I already know (courtesy of the Planet Photoshop tip of the day), but what interested me in particular was finding out how to put an image inside type. You have to choose a chunky font like Futura Extra Bold, which I used here, but it was pretty easy to do. I’ve always had this fantasy of doing paintings of words like Cy Twombly and Ed Ruscha, it’s just that the pigment is digital for me now.Another thing I’d like to try doing is designing my own font. I have Font Creator 5.5, but so far I haven’t been able to figure it out. It would probably help if I read the manual. It used to really bug me when John would jump straight into a program without an in-depth study of the major commands, and now I find I’m doing the same thing too.
I got a great package from Jeanne today crammed full of all sorts of nifty bits and pieces like this Vaudeville postcard which I just had to scan and alter into an ATC. I haven’t had a chance to fully appreciate everything Jeanne sent, but I did read through the Artfest journal she kept for me, and honestly, it was just like being there. As I was reading it, I felt like I was sharing it with her because I was experiencing it all through her eyes and heart.
I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone read my journals except for one I kept a couple of years ago, which was more like a notebook than a record of my thoughts. But I know Pam read one of mine when I was in ninth grade and she must have been around ten at the time.
I still have this journal; it’s mainly about a guy I had a crush on who looked like Pat Boone. (Yeah, I know I’m dating myself, but I actually ended up dating him for a while and he turned out to be gorgeous but dull…so much for those high school crushes).
The thing I like best about this journal, though, is the note from Pam inside that reads: “Dear Sue, I read your journal and I found it splendid.”I remember I was so surprised that my baby sister used a word like “splendid, I couldn’t be mad at her. Pam still has a great vocabulary. She’s the only person I know who can use a word like segue, and make you want to try it out yourself instead of saying: “Huh?”
Some people are born with an innate sense of funkiness like my brother Robin and my sister-in-law Wendy. The photo on the left shows a corner of Robin’s writing room, formerly their living room, and the one on the right, a section of one of Wendy’s collection of pictures and memorabilia that she has put up in her space at the back of the house.
Wendy also uses a kitchen on the second floor as her art room and has hundreds of costumes stored in the basement. Nifty bits and pieces are displayed everywhere like necklaces, driftwood and Buddha heads. Instead of having vegetation in the flower box on their front porch, Wendy planted a whole row of giant peacock feathers…wish I’d taken a picture of that. Robin has a signed picture of Elvis and a colored pencil drawing of a parrot I did at least two decades ago displayed over his desk.
When I got home I took a look around my studio space and I could see that I have the family pack rat thing going on too: glass bricks, angels, rust, a bird’s nest, shells and so on. But somehow it’s always more fun looking at someone else’s stuff.
I’m actually going to bed before twelve tonight because I’m so bushed. Last night was the Stampers of Southern Ontario’s tenth anniversary party—a Victorian Tea—and I saw all sorts of people I haven’t seen for a while, which was great. Afterwards I stayed overnight at David and Emma’s. Waking up this morning and seeing all the buildings in the early morning sunlight reminded me of being in New York.
I dropped into the World’s Biggest Bookstore to look at art books before going home, but didn’t see anything I absolutely had to have. I don’t know whether or not it’s just me, but bookstores don’t have the selection they used to. Because there aren’t as many surprises or remainders to tempt me, I don’t spend as much on books anymore. Sad really.
I love this picture of Emma and her boyfriend Brian that either John or David took today. I was surprised to see that all the graduating law students received a pink stole trimmed with white fur…very Legally Blonde in my opinion. It was fun to see the male graduates wearing it too. (I wonder what the deal is with the Paris Hilton Pink though).
As graduation ceremonies go, it was just about perfect. We sat near Emma, the speeches were short, there was air conditioning and it only lasted an hour and fifteen minutes! When Emma graduated from Queens, the ceremony was held in a hockey arena and there were hundreds of people graduating. It reminded me of a religious revival without the religion. (I met a woman afterwards who told me she didn’t like to waste time so she’d read most of a novel while she was waiting for her daughter’s name to be called. That seemed a little cold to me).
David didn’t go to the Queens graduation, but he got the morning off work to come today, and Brian and my parents came too. Mum and Dad brought some beautiful pink roses which coordinated with Emma’s stole…or is it a hood? Before we went over to the law school for a luncheon, John and I took Emma’s diploma (she’s now a Juris Doctor) to be framed in a tent that was set up on the lawn. When my dad saw her framed diploma, he said he was looking forward to receiving some free legal advice, but apparently Emma can’t give any of that until she’s called to the bar a year from now.
Both John and I made pictures and framed them as part of our gift to Emma. She’s graduating from law school tomorrow, so we had to do something special. (I’m even going to wear a dress to the ceremony!)
I’ve always liked this self-portrait of the painter Angelica Kaufman who was one of the few successful woman painters in the eighteenth century. She was a friend of Goethe and also painted Sir Joshua Reynolds. Like Sofonisba Anguissola, Angelica’s father was very supportive of her talent and made sure she trained with the very best painters available. The moral here is: Dads, support your daughters!
It’s been a while since I’ve worked on a larger piece. This one is 8 x 10” but then I reduced it and turned it into an ATC for today’s blog. You would think size isn’t important when you’re working in Photoshop. Well, today I discovered that it does matter…not technically, but visually. This digital collage of Angelica has more impact in a larger size. It almost looks like a different picture when it’s reduced. Something to keep in mind because I don’t usually change the size of things that I’m working on.
I’m still thinking about that documentary on Howard Hodgkin we watched on Saturday. Because I’ve interviewed a lot of artists, I’m fascinated by their creative process and how they express their individuality.
Howard, for example, doesn’t like to be filmed while he’s working or to show his paintings in progress, so all the canvases in his white studio were facing the wall. It was more interesting than seeing them because of the mystery of it all. He will spend years working on one painting until he gets it just right. It didn’t appear that he makes sketches or takes notes. In India, he just sat like a Buddha taking everything in.
At one point Howard says painting is a compulsion, and that he finds it too difficult to be liberated by it. This may be because he has so much going on in his mind he never feels that he’s finished, which of course he isn’t.
If you google Howard Hodgkin, you can find some examples of his paintings. To me, they’re Biblical in tone because I feel like I’m looking into some essential truth. But that’s hard to explain when you’re dealing with an abstract painting.On a non-Howard note, John took some pictures of the shells on our dining room table that were reflected by the TV set., so naturally I had to play with them in Photoshop and give them my own spin…hence this ATC.
I missed the last two ATC meetings at Bizzy B’s, so I really enjoyed seeing everyone last night. The theme was Italy and as usual no two cards were remotely alike. It was Colette who came up with the new name for our group, ATC Hive, which I thought was really clever because of the bee theme going on at the store, and all the activity. Our next theme is Hot Women (or is it Hot Babes?), and I already have an idea that I want to work on for this. One of my art students from ten years ago dropped by yesterday before I left, and what a surprise. The last time I saw Steven he was nine years old. Now he’s now a big, burly good-looking guy who has just finished his first year of university and is still drawing. Today John and I watched a really cool show on the painter Howard Hodgkin whose work I just love. At one point, the man who was interviewing him said: “Howard is happy to give clues about his paintings, but he does not give explanations.” Way to go Howard! Why should you have to explain what you do? People either get it or they don’t. And getting it doesn’t mean being able to explain it either. (At least that’s my excuse). Howard (I’m calling him by his first name because otherwise I feel like I’m talking about a butler) has been to India over thirty times and part of the documentary takes place there. I was amazed to see elephants walking along the street in New Delhi, and the colors of buildings and clothing were so inspiring. Going to India is definitely on my to do list now.
I’ve had one of those weeks where I accomplished very little even though I’ve been working really hard. It makes me wonder why we have to focus so much on production because doesn’t always tell the whole story. I know if I didn’t have to produce I’d probably be a much different person, and maybe even a better one. It would be nice to get out of my own head and be someone else for a while.
Take this little goldfinch outside my studio window, for example. I’m sure he’s not stressed out about page quotas and income. Just give him a nice Bachelor Button plant and he’s good to go. I love watching the birds come and go in our garden. We see (and hear) cardinals, robins, mourning doves, sparrows, starlings, redwing blackbirds and woodpeckers around here. One day there was even a family of ducks in the backyard. Not for long though. Lily has her territory and she polices it as faithfully as any cat.
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get together with Mary, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on with her. In fact, earlier today we sent each other emails at almost exactly the same time. (Not that I knew in advance what was in Mary’s email, but it’s always cool to be on the same wavelength).
If you’re looking for a nice jaunt this weekend, Mary will be in the annual craft show at Kew Gardens in the Beaches this Saturday and Sunday (June 9/10). Kew Gardens is/are right around Lee Ave and Queen Street. The sale runs from 10 to 6 p.m., and Mary’s booth is number 101.
She also has her Mizz Mary Etsy shop up and running—about 17 items for sale right now, which include both jewelry and charms (love the roller skates)..
Carmi is selling her adorable miniature cushions or “poufs” on Etsy too, while Colette offers everything from fabric to assemblage at her popular site. Somehow this seems like a friendlier way to sell art than on Ebay.
My computer crashed yesterday, and naturally you always lose something important. Fortunately I back up religiously, so there wasn’t much harm done. But I’ve decided I need to prune my Photoshop files because I just have so many of them.
While I was grazing some of my experiments, I found this picture of Pam’s cat Rex that I’d superimposed on the Mona Lisa for Pam’s birthday card a few years ago. If I’d known then what I know now, I could have put a patina on Rex so he would have blended into Mona with more panache. But what I realized when I opened up the file was that I’d merged the layers in Photoshop. If I want to rework this picture, I’ll have to start again from scratch…and that won’t be happening because I have too many other things on the go.
The one thing I did do right was to save my original photo of Rex. He’s one wild and crazy guy, so it would be fun to put his head on another body at some point in the future.
I think I understand now why people act so self absorbed when they’re working on a big project because I’m doing it myself. John and I were joking around yesterday and I told him that I thought my best feature was my nose. When I asked him was his was, he said: “My children.” Oh, oh. I could have come up with my friends/family, but no, I was thinking about my nose…yes, it was all about moi.
Self-absorption may be a survival mechanism though. When you have to stay focused, you almost feel that if you give something else any real attention, you’ll get off track.On Monday night I was so deeply absorbed in working on my book that I had this weird out of body experience. I was watching myself working and it actually seemed as if someone else was doing the writing, not me. Obviously there will be life after the book, but right now it’s hard to picture it.
Ronna Mogelon’s Artist Trading Card Quarterly arrived today, but I disciplined myself to finish everything I’d assigned myself to do before looking at it, which meant it was 11:30 p.m. before I could indulge in some guilt-free reading. Then I made myself an English muffin with apricot jam and a cup of tea, and settled down on the living room couch with Lily to read ATC Quarterly straight through
This issue Ronna ran a piece I’d written called "Fun with Photoshop." It’s always cool to be part of a publication you’re partial to, but since I could basically remember what I’d said, I didn’t read it until I’d looked at everything else. Frankly, it was a lot more interesting reading about the Danish woman who has been keeping a daily ATC journal since 1998, grazing through the profiles and admiring all the fab bird art that appears in the centerfold.
I couldn’t help coming away from this experience wanting to play more. I love the colored pencil work Ronna often shares on her blog, and I’d like to break out my Prismacolors and make some new ATCs. Can I get it together to do this for our next ATC meeting? I sure hope so. Other than grocery shopping and a quick run to Staples, I haven’t been anywhere for the last ten days. But this enforced solitude is paying off because I’m making good progress on my book. I wonder if my friends will still be talking to me when I finally manage to surface? I know I’ve been ignoring everyone (including John), but it seems to be the only way I can get this book done.
Is your medium your message? Hummm. Don’t know whether or not I really understand the concept. But I did meet Marshall McLuhan once (sort of).
I was taking a Religion and Film course while I was at university, and this particular day, Winter’s Light—yet another depressing Bergman film—was on the agenda. My boyfriend at the time and I showed up late as usual and squeezed in beside an elderly man at the back. I say “elderly” but I have to laugh because he was probably the age I am now.
It didn’t take long before I was snuffling into my Kleenex. I cried through most of the movies on the course because they were full of despair and provided me with the perfect opportunity to vent about everything real or imagined that was bothering me at the time…mainly the boyfriend. (We saw Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow Up fourteen times, so that should give you some idea of what kind of relationship we had).
Anyhow, about halfway through the movie, my boyfriend leaned over and nudged me. “You’re sitting beside Marshall McLuhan,” he whispered loudly. Wow! Really? I didn’t want to be rude and rubberneck, so I rolled my eyes around as far as I could to the left without turning my head. And there was Marshall McLuhan…eyes rolled around as far as they would go to his right looking back at me. Then he winked and we both burst out laughing.
I was too intimated to speak to him, but if this happened now I’d ask him a few questions, such as, “How does despair relate to spirituality?” or “What does your book really mean anyway?” One good thing about getting older (at least in my case) is that I’m more interested in finding out answers to my questions than worrying about whether or not I sound like an idiot when I’m asking them.
I’ve been doing more thinking about my obsession with Photoshop, and wondering if I should just give up using traditional art materials and concentrate on the digital instead. It’s a natural fit for me in a way because I’ve always been more interested in ideas than techniques and materials. And I even like the flatness of the printed image. It’s like producing your own page in an art book.
Still, I can’t do everything I’d like to with pixels. If I could create something tactile and dimensional though, I’d do it in a New York minute.Will someone will ever invent a program to do this? I sure hope so, and soon too.
Here I am sitting in a room crammed with art supplies—most of which I know how to use and have some facility with—and I’m just not using them. Why is this?
Aside from drawing in my journal, I haven’t been doing any hands-on artwork for several weeks now. True, I have a lot of other things on the go right now, but when I do have some free time, I head straight to the digital? Why is this?
I’ve been thinking about it today, and decided that when it comes to expressing my creativity, I’m more of a mental person than a physical one. I don’t mean I’m crazed or demented…okay, maybe a little, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. No, by mental I mean it’s the thinking/experimental part of creativity, which engages me most. That’s why I enjoy Photoshop so much. It helps me to take my vision of what could be as far as it can go. To be honest, I don’t usually know where that is. I do recognize the right place when I get there though.
Working in Photoshop isn’t any faster than using traditional methods…not for me anyway. What I do like is being able to do multiple versions of an idea, working away until I get what I’m after. Obviously there’s a lot more flexibility with the digital because starting again from scratch is easier. I’ve been playing with mandalas lately, and when I finished this one just before dinner, I didn’t like it. But no matter, I learned a couple of new things during the process, and I can always go back and work on it again.
John interrupted me while I was working on an article this morning to ask a question about Photoshop, and I got all surly on him. When I’m writing, I hate losing my train of thought. John, on the other hand, thrives on the immediate…most of the time anyway. I can easily waste half an hour debating about whether or not to use the word “call” or “invite,” while John has a snack, checks the soccer scores, does some printing, makes a few notes and then pulls up a few weeds. Likewise, Robin gets a lot done in a short period of time. I think most of his plays were written in fifteen-minute increments.
But even prolific writers hate being interrupted: Enid Blyton, for example. (Remember her awful Noddy books? I used to hate getting one of them for a gift when I was a child.) Anyway, Blyton could write 10,000 words in a day. I believe she compared the process to unrolling a ball of wool. But if anyone interrupted her while she was working, she had to start all over again from the beginning.
According to Wikipedia, Blyton is the fifth most popular writer in the world (Shakespeare is sixth!) and she wrote over 3,000 books. Yowza! And I’m having trouble finishing one.
I wish I could think of something witty and exciting to say. I’d even settle for vaguely interesting, but there’s precious little left in my brain tonight. Not only do I have the blahs, but I honestly think I’m Photoshoped out.
Am I boring everyone by going on about my book? No? Yes? Well it really doesn’t matter because that’s all I have to talk about. I’m stretching myself to the absolute limits of my mental capacity, and I’m fed up with thinking.
I wish I’d brought a piece of David’s birthday cake home with me on Saturday. A mega dose of chocolate would go down really well right now. Guess I’m going to have to settle for a plate of cheese and garlic stuffed olives.
Remember that scene in The Shining where Jack Nicholson keeps typing, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” over and over again? That’s basically where I am at the moment…quoting lines from movies (and considering a trip to the dollar store tomorrow to even things out).
It’s a good job I don’t mention everyone I know who has a birthday at this time of year on my blog because April, May and June seem to be jam-packed with them. For example, Carmi’s was on Friday and David’s yesterday.
We celebrated David’s with Thai food, chocolate cake and presents. Oh, and we watched Earth Girls are Easy for the gazillionth time. There’s one part that makes me go nuts laughing. It’s when Julie Brown is about to groom the aliens at her beauty salon, and Geena Davis tells her to be careful. Julie says not to worry because she got her start shaving poodles. You can tell I lead an exciting life, can’t you?
I remembered to take my camera this time and took this shot, knees knocking, from David and Emma’s balcony. The Gardiner expressway seems closer in the photo than it actually appears when you’re there. Mary says she has to check the condo out because even though they're not her kids, she wants to make sure their place meets her approval. So what do you think Mary? Should the door to the balcony be welded shut permanently?
When I was working as a layout artist at Sears, we had to take a time management seminar. I remember one of the questions was: What would you do first if (simultaneously) your phone was ringing, your baby was screaming, and someone was knocking at your door? I’m never good at answering questions like that, so I was the only one who chose the baby—and I didn’t even have children at the time.
Because this was the wrong answer, the seminar leader turned me into the example of what not to do. I didn’t understand his reasoning, and I can’t recall what I should have done. This was back in the days before answering machines and cell phones, so obviously something had to be done first…I think it was answer the phone, ask the person calling to hold on, and then answer the door. (Presumably the baby was just being a pest). I do remember him saying that I was obviously a person who had trouble doing two things at once. Right you are buddy, but it works for me.The only time I can multitask is if I’m talking on the phone to someone I know well. (Sorry Pam, Beverly, Mum etc.) Then I usually play around in Photoshop at the same time, or I might tidy up. If the person is right in the room with me though, I have to drop everything. How can you talk to someone without looking them in the eye?
I’ve been annoyed with myself because I’d set a deadline for the end of May to finish my book, and that obviously won’t be happening. This is usually a busy time of year for me when it comes to work, so perhaps I was deluded into thinking this was a good time to wrap things up. But is there ever a good time? I think you just have to go ahead anyway and persevere.
Yesterday morning I sat down to take a close look at everything, and I soon realized there’s a big gap between then and now. Since I started reworking my material, I’ve made a lot of changes. The biggest difference from my original draft is that I’ve added at least fourteen new pages—and there may be more.
If I’d just zipped through and left it basically as is, I think I would have been able to finish on schedule. But when you change the parameters of a project, you shouldn’t keep working to the previous ones, should you? (Duh!)
Understanding this has, well, made me understand this…not that I’m any happier about the delay. I was looking forward to having more fun and being able to play around with some new things sooner rather than later. Fortunately I’m long past the point of questioning whether or not I should have undertaken this project in the first place. Now I just want to be done.
David took us out for lunch on Mother’s Day, and Emma bought me a book called The Mission of Art. It’s right up my ally because it’s all about metaphysics and art.
We went back to their place for tea, and then my parents dropped by to see the condo. I can’t believe my father actually leaned over the edge of their balcony. Honestly, I almost passed out. I still can’t get that picture of him out of my mind.
Pam told me today that she’s also afraid of heights, and we both agreed a view 32 stories up is best viewed from inside. Frankly I’m thinking we need some kind of harness too.Emma hasn’t finished her bedroom yet, but David’s is looking very cool with all his glass bricks grouped in front of the window. It reminds me of a Zen rock garden, and I’m tempted to cover his floor with smooth black pebbles and give him a rake to groom them properly...David being a very Zen kind of guy.
I love listening to opera, but I’ve never actually been to one I liked.
I remember going to see Boris Godunov back in the 70s with my uncle, and he fell asleep (snoring loudly) before the first intermission. This happened immediately after he complained (loudly and in detail) about the singing. People all around us were trying to shush him up. Gosh I miss him.
Anyway, last year John and I went to Wozzeck, another lugubrious opera that I napped through myself, and our most recent foray involved Elektra, which if you remember your mythology was unrelenting gloom and doom…oh, and endlessly atonal in this case too. At one point I looked at John and it was all we could do not to burst out laughing.
Am I a Philistine? I really think I must be. I know I had way more fun watching Celine Dion singing with holographic Elvis on American Idol, and that darling Apolo Anton Ohno—a skater and ballroom dancer? Yes, just bring him on.
I put my need for melody and happy endings down to reading every depressing novel written before 1975. It probably scarred me for life and I'll never recover.
It’s been a challenge trying to get everything done lately. Not that I’m complaining. I’m working on three different freelance writing projects at the moment, and they’re all interesting ones. Still, I had to stay up until 2 a.m. on Sunday night to meet my book page quota, and so far this week I haven’t been able to get back to it. Guess it will be another busy weekend for me.
Anyone who writes for a living knows how intense the process really is. You have the idea (or the assignment). You research. You brainstorm. You interview. You do at least one outline. You start writing and gradually whittle the material down reshaping it into something that pleases you. (At least that’s the way I do it).
Once I’ve got my lead and a possible conclusion I breathe a sigh of relief. But the hard part for me is smoothing out the rough edges so my writing flows. To be honest, I think I’m more of a thinker than a writer and I really have to work to lasso those all-at-once thoughts when I put them down on paper. Anything that involves story telling or word play is easier for me, but that’s not what magazine writing is all about.
The thing I miss most when I’m working like this is doing hands on artwork and writing in my journal. To stay on track with my book I’ve been limiting myself to two social occasions per week. My parents gave John and me two tickets to the opera tomorrow night so once again I’ll be missing the monthly ATC get-together…not that I’ve had time to do anything anyway. Emma came for a visit today so I took time off to cook her dinner, and then we watched Lost and American Idol. My fave, Lakisha, was voted off tonight (sob)…am I ridiculous or what?
I’m not sure why anatomical drawings fascinate me so much. It’s certainly not the utility of it all—in other words: how the body actually works. What I like is the symbolism of the body as an intricate, completely realized idea. The externals are peeled back and you see what’s really holding everything together.
The anatomy ATCs I’ve posted recently are scans from a nineteenth century book my cousin Ann gave me a few years ago. Recently I got about ten original pages from another old book that I’m looking forward to playing with. They’re all black and white woodcuts except for a color plate of the torso that has two layers attached by a flap. You lift them up so you can see what’s going on underneath. It reminds me of a low-tech version of those plastic body kits you can buy in a science store.
My mother turned 88 yesterday, and it was also my parents’ 62nd wedding anniversary(!) These days it’s hard to get everyone together at once, but all nineteen of us were able to make the celebration at Keith and Sherri’s, so that made it an extra-special occasion.
We all brought food, and Pam ordered a couple of scrumptious desserts from Dufflet’s. I thought of Ronna as I forced myself to eat a hefty piece of chocolate layer cake—why do I always eat too much at parties?
Keith and Sherri have renovated their basement and added a couple of amazing bathrooms. Is it weird to get so excited over bathroom fixtures? Probably, but because I lack the decorating gene myself, I love playing the voyeur. If I ever win the lottery, I’ll hire Sherri (good taste personified) and Bridget (innately funky) to make all my decorating fantasies come true.
P.S. Here’s a picture David took yesterday of my parents with their four children.
It’s been a long time since I had a scary dream, but the one I had last night was a doozy. It started out innocently enough. I was on the periphery of a down-and-out group meeting in the ballroom of an abandoned hotel. I wandered into another room and there was my dad sitting in an armchair. He waved at me, and I waved back.
It was night and we were really high up. (Now that I think about it, it was more like being in a space ship). There was a sudden flash of light and floating cities appeared outside the window. I went back into the ballroom and everyone looked considerably better. I started flying around above the crowd and felt great. But as soon as I started thinking about how wonderful it was to be flying, I plummeted right down to the floor.
Next thing I knew, I was tied to a bed and a man was eating my brain out with a spoon. Sounds funny, I know, but I can’t put in words just how terrifying it was. I actually started yelling and scared the daylights out of John. Because I was afraid to go back to sleep, I was a wreck this morning.
Years ago I used to teach a dream workshop at Sheridan, but I’ve never been any good at analyzing my own. I wonder what this one meant? Then again, maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was just feedback from that olive and cream cheese sandwich I ate right before I went to bed.
I love watching TV but I feel guilty about it so I limit how much I watch. Right now it’s 24, Dancing With the Stars, Lost and American Idol. Normally I wouldn’t be drawn to a show like Dancing with the Stars, but when Daniza mentioned it, I knew I had to check it out mainly because we always seem to like (really like) the same things. It’s your fault Daniza. Now I’m hooked.
But I always feel I should be doing something constructive when the TV is on. While I was watching Lost and American Idol tonight, I sorted through a big box of stuff that needs filing and found this business card size collage I made back in 1998 when I first started stamping. It’s one of a series, but I have no clue where the others are—probably somewhere in the giant throw room that used to be our basement.
I also found our marriage certificate. Now that was sobering. Why didn’t I put it back in its own special file after John applied for his passport last year? Again, no clue. But I was grateful I found it anyway. I’m going to see Jeanne in Texas this summer and I need a new passport myself.
I wish I’d had my camera with me on Sunday so I could show you how fantastic the view is from David and Emma’s condo. You can see the CN Tower from their kitchen window and planes landing at Centre Island Airport. The condo is brand new and everything is so fresh and airy. It’s exciting to think of them in such a fabulous place…a little freaky though standing on their tiny balcony 32 stories up. My hands are sweating now just thinking about it.
John and I have spent the last couple of days reorganizing and tidying up. The house definitely feels more spacious, and of course it’s quieter now. So far we’re not feeling lonely—we’re enjoying ourselves actually—but I have to admit I’m going to miss knowing all those little details you’re only a party to when you live with people who are important to you.
It feels strange to have children who are old enough to do their own packing. David is filling the van as I write this, and Emma is upstairs cramming stuff into boxes. All she wants me from me now is to hang around with her and talk. As you know, talking is always something I can do.
Today was spent shopping and picking up various pieces of furniture donated by friends and relatives. Mum gave us two comfy beds from their spare room so Emma and David will have a place to sleep when they come home. The house has a weird vibe, as if it knows that things will be changing shortly, and Lily is freaked. She has shifted into Velcro dog mode—never a stretch for her—and is glued to me wherever I go. I’m just crossing my fingers that she won’t start howling tomorrow. And me? I plan to do all my howling in private because the kids are just so excited.
I promised Emma I would keep her company while she finished off her extended paper on Children and the Law—all 52 pages of it. Tomorrow is her last day of law school…well, technically I guess it’s today. I’ve just prepared her a fortifying snack of crackers, olives and cheese, and made some for myself too.
Actually it’s never a hardship for me to burn the midnight oil especially when I’m not the one toiling over law books and policing my grammar. I always hated writing essays when I was in university. Coming up with ideas was the fun part. Putting it all together was a drag. While Emma has been working, I’ve written two pages of my book, looked at Renaissance paintings, played in Photoshop and compiled a list of action verbs. Now that I’ve been fueled by my favorite garlic-stuffed olives, I think I’ll tackle my email.
There are piles of stuff everywhere now. David spent the day packing and he seems to be really organized. Last week he cleaned out the garage, which was great. However, my hopes of taking over his closet as storage space for my rubber stamps have been dashed. He plans on using it to store the stuff he’s not taking with him but can’t bear to part with (like his G.I. Joe trucks). I remember doing the same thing when I left home, so I guess what goes around eventually comes around, doesn’t it?
The muse isn’t taking kindly to all the chaos around here. Today she forced me to add six pages to my book, and then—without telling me how to accomplish this—she promptly decamped. I sure hope she comes back next week. (I’ve even promised her that she will have her own dog-free bedroom).
I’ve always been drawn to Madonna and Child images. When I came across this one tonight, I realized by next week, Emma and David will be in their new home, and this started me thinking about the whole concept of mothering.
To me, it’s not linked to the biological function of producing children, because if this happened to be true, giving birth would automatically turn a woman into a good mother and the world would be a much happier place.
For this reason, I think mothering is a divine quality that can be acknowledged and practiced by anyone irrespective of age, sex or family situation. In a way, we’re all potentially mothers. Nurturing, supporting and helping people to become their best selves is something we not only can do, but should also aspire to.
Beverly and I spent a really enjoyable day trolling the funky stores on Queen Street, eating, drinking coffee and talking. In fact, I talked so much my lips are chapped. (I think Beverly’s are too).
When I got home, lo and behold there was the latest issue of RubberStampMadness and in it the article I wrote on Carmi called “Going Full Tilt: Carmi Cimicata shares her secrets for creative success.” (I was almost afraid to read it in case I got anything mixed up!)
The article is four pages long and features several pieces of her art along with a fab shot of her studio, and Carmi with the boys (Shadow and Shamus). What I really loved about writing this feature on Carmi was that I felt inspired to focus more on what I really enjoy doing, and to be more organized.
It’s always a privilege to have another artist share creative insights with you. While we respond instinctively to the visual, we don’t always realize how much effort goes into producing the finished work. When I’m awake at two in the morning and toiling away in Photoshop, I often think about Carmi and wonder if she's burning the early morning oil like I am. Anyway, don’t take my word for how interesting she is—read the article!
P.S. Beverly, we will use all that stuff we bought today, won’t we?
It’s hard to get anything else done when I’m working on my book. When something is important to me, it really takes over. Although I don’t usually have problems focusing in on creative projects, this book is forcing me to dig much deeper than I normally have to.
I much prefer to do the hard things first so I can get them over with, but this project depends on persistence not front-end loading.
How people can write books quickly is beyond me. Years ago John and I went to a seminar at The Learning Annex where this guy promised us that we could write a book in two weeks if we were organized. He had published several books himself—wish I could remember his name—but they were all non-fiction, and the people in the audience who had hoped to write their novels in just 14 (!) days were really annoyed with him.
Naturally he had an answer for everything—being more of a salesman than a writer in my opinion—and the answer was this: read a best seller; use it as a template; fit your characters into it.
At the time I was working on a romance novel so I could see what he was driving at. After all, a romance novel does have a certain structure: 1. Sparks fly 2. Misunderstandings develop 3. Couple parts 4. Lusty reunion 5. Eternal love (inferred). When you read a romance novel, you know you’re guaranteed the couple will end up together, but the stories and the people involved are always different. How could anyone possibly do something like this on the fly unless you’re Dame Barbara Cartland? Apparently Dame Barbara reclined on a sofa, ate bonbons and just yakked on and on while her secretary took dictation. Presumably, the poor secretary was in charge of correcting Dame Barbara’s grammar—such as was—and checking to make sure the heroine didn’t appear in two different gowns in the same scene. Coming up with the idea is actually the easy part; the hard part is shaping it into something worthwhile.
It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I haven’t updated my writing portfolio for almost two years. Now that I have, I’m feeling pleased with myself…not only because I’ve accomplished something I’d been promising myself to do, but also because I can put all those magazines away to make room for more stuff. (Just what I need!)
I’ve written so many articles over the years that I usually don’t read them when they come out. Sometimes it’s almost six months before something I write appears in print, and my focus always seems to be on the project I’m doing in the here and now.
I made time tonight to work on another digital ATC in Photoshop. This image is from a book of playing cards published in the 19th century. Cards have long fascinated me. I remember reading somewhere that the advent of printing meant the average person could then afford some kind of art, even if it was only a deck of cards.
I’d really like to design my own deck at some point. Years ago I started drawing black and white tarot cards, but it was too complicated so I soon gave it up. Although I’ve posted over 60 ATCs to my blog since the beginning of January, this has mostly been spontaneous. I know I’d drive myself crazy if I actually had to organize cards into suits…still, it’s an idea that won’t quite let go of me.
Because I’m endeavoring to start having a regular weekend again, I decided I wouldn’t work on Saturday and Sunday. I started out by playing with my Wacom tablet (thanks again Jeanne!) and it was really funny trying to sketch with it.
I’ve always done a lot of drawing—well, it’s more like doodling or cartooning really—and I’ve never been self-conscious that I’m not that good at it. Because I didn’t stop drawing when I finished grade school like a lot of people do, I naturally turn to it when I can’t express something in words. Drawing is a kind of mental shorthand for me, and lately I’ve been thinking I’d like to improve on my skills…such as they are. This may sound strange, but up until now the main thing that has concerned me about drawing is where the image is placed on the page because I react so strongly to composition.
I haven’t quite got the knack of using the Wacom stylus as a drawing tool yet, but it’s not as difficult as I thought it would be. Learning how to use a new tool always stretches me creatively, and I’m keen to take this particular one farther.
“I Sing the Body Electric” is the title of a book of short stories by Ray Bradbury, an episode of the Twilight Zone, and an album by Weather Report. In case you think I’m some kind of cultural bon vivant, I discovered this by checking it in Wikipedia.
You see, I was pretty sure this was a quote from Walt Whitman, and that he had picked it up from William Blake. I was right about Walt, but wrong about William. I haven’t had a Blake fix for a while now, and I must be due for one.
In one of George Carlin’s routines, he talked about a math professor who had discovered a new number between six and seven called bleen. The reason I find this so funny is the professor (obviously frustrated he couldn’t come up with the answer he wanted) was driven to invent a new number so his formula would work.
I feel much the same way about language. Even though there are a million plus words in the English language, it’s always frustrating when you can’t find the one you want…the one that exactly describes the meaning you’re after. It’s enough to make you start inventing your own words.
This is one of the reasons why I generally find making art more pleasurable than writing. You can indicate a mood, an image or a color—no need to beat anyone over the head with it—because we usually respond to the visual without feeling the need to explain or understand it.
Here’s a picture of my lovely niece Bridget Light—interior designer, artist extraordinaire and possessor of the greatest laugh going.
On Saturday, April 15th, Bridget is joining my sister Pam on the Toronto Super Cities WALK for MS. My brother-in-law Brian, Bridget’s dad, has MS and I wrote about one of the inventions he's come up with to aid his mobility back on November 5th of last year.
If the spirit moves you, please consider sponsoring Bridget on her walk. Just follow this link to find out more.
Emma and David both have jobs in Toronto that are starting soon, so they’re moving there on May 1st. The good news is they’re renting a condo together on the 32nd floor of a new building. David is really excited about the fact their view includes Lake Ontario and the CN Tower.
A couple of my friends expressed amazement that a brother and sister would actually choose to live together. But I told them Emma and David have always got on well with each other, and they’re just carrying on a family tradition. My brother Robin and I shared a place for three years back in the 70s. It worked out really well for us—and, come to think of it, I’d live with Pam in a heartbeat.
But of course there’s the whole empty nest thing going with John and me. I find I’m drawn to the bird and nest creations both Colette and Martha have posted to their blogs recently because they definitely strike a chord. In some ways, I think it will be more of an adjustment for John though because he’s such a motherly sort of guy. I don’t know any other dads who get up at the crack of dawn to make fried eggs and a packed lunch for their 20-something children.
I can’t say that I’m obsessing about Emma and David leaving—at least so far. I’m glad they’re independent and ready to embrace the larger world. But things will certainly change around here. For one thing, there will more room in the dishwasher—rearranging everything to fit has always bugged me—so I’m holding onto that thought for the time being!
After a hard slog on my book this afternoon, rustling up some Fettuccine Alfredo was relaxing. I’ve never been into cooking that much. But for the last few weeks I’ve enjoyed it—mainly because it’s something I know I can do and it gives my family pleasure—most of the time anyway.
While I was cooking I thought about what challenge writing really is. Probably not a good thing for someone who has written so many articles to admit. You’d think I could do it with my eyes closed by now, but I don’t find it gets any easier. Writing is all about thinking, and you really have to concentrate.
Rewriting my book is proving to be harder than writing it. Today I felt like I was working on something separate from myself. The book seems to have taken on a life of its own, pushing me to go deeper, be clearer, make it better. (And here I thought I’d just be doing a house clean).
Now that I’ve passed the halfway point, I realize that it’s going to take me longer than I thought. So much for schedules and goals. I read something the day about the Apollo space missions. Apparently they were only on course a fraction of the time, and those forays into space were all about trying to get back on track. I guess inner travels involve much the same thing.
It was a relief to start a new journal last night. Everything I’ve been doing for the last few weeks has depended on visual accuracy and clarity of thought (but, I have to add, not always accomplished). What I like about journaling is that I can forget about grammar, spelling and how everything looks. I just emote. Emma says that journaling is the one thing she does for herself, and I can see her point.
I don’t mind sharing some of my journals with other people. But the one I just finished? No one will be looking at that one ever. Maybe when I’m dead? Even then…hum-m…perhaps I should start gluing the pages together now, or just rip out the pages I’m okay with, and then burn it.As I write this, I’m thinking to myself: “I’m making it sound like my journal is packed with salacious gossip.” But it isn’t. Instead, it’s a lot of dark night of the soul whining that I wouldn’t want anyone else to read. I don’t even like rereading it myself.
If I haven’t emailed you lately, I’m not ignoring you, I’m just working on my book. But sometimes it’s hard to stay on track. A couple of nights ago I was reading Cori’s blog when I decided to check out her links. Next thing I knew I’d spent an hour reading about what waiters hate about the people they’re serving. Then I watched American Idol and part of Miss Congeniality 2. What was I thinking?
The thing is, I actually enjoy reworking my book. But I have bad days and good days obviously. On Wednesday I did ten pages and believed I was ahead of the game (for once). Then Thursday was a bust. Not in terms of the time spent in the creative inferno, but what I actually managed to accomplish.. I had decided to redo four illustrations and nothing seemed to come together. This really bothered me, so I switched to cooking instead.
While the Yorkshire puddies were baking, I sat down and had a think about things. I realized I have this awful habit of believing that if I just drive myself like a maniac, I’ll be able to finish my book in just one day. Realistically, this is just absurd—and it’s also hard on me mentally.
On the other hand, I’m convinced that you have to push yourself if you want to accomplish anything worthwhile. But there must be a happy medium somewhere, and I’m determined to find it.
Granted, it didn’t snow much, but I always think of April 4th as the official end of winter mainly because it’s Robin’s birthday—and I’ll never forget the terrible snowstorm we had on that day (sometime back in the last century…1975 maybe?) Anyway, I decided to make Robbie a birthday ATC in Photoshop, but it kind of bombed. Always does when feel like you just have to produce something!
I realized yesterday that the reason I always seem to be tidying and reorganizing is that I not only have art supplies, writing projects and personal stuff to deal with, but there are all those computer files too…over 15,000 in Photoshop alone. I’ve been backing them up religiously ever since my computer crashed a few years ago—first on CD and now on an external drive.
There’s nothing worse than losing images you haven’t backed up—well, okay, there are worse things—but still, it’s an awful feeling when part of you evaporates into the digital void. You can always resurrect typewritten documents if you have a scanner with OCR software like mine does. But how to recreate a Photoshop file you’ve lost? You just have to start again from scratch.The external drive I’ve been using is almost full so I had to buy a new one recently. Now I have back ups of the back ups! It took me most of yesterday to do this, and my head is spinning. The worst thing is I discovered forty or fifty projects I’d never gone back to and that still look interesting. My life needs a sidecar.
I finally understand myself…sort of. John had David, Emma and me take an online quiz to find out whether or not we are right-brained, left-brained or in-between.
You probably already know the theory that one side of the brain tends to dominate the other—the left being logical, sequential, rational, analytical, objective and focused on the parts that make up a whole, while the right is random, intuitive, creative, holistic, subjective and synergistic.
I was sure I was left-brain dominant because I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to organize and analyze things. But it turns out that the right side of my brain rules the mental roost, so I guess I’m just trying to compensate. Both Emma and David are left brainers. Is this the result of being brought up by an all-at-once thinker for a mother?
The most interesting thing about the quiz results was that John is balanced between left and right. Apparently this is unusual. But somehow it doesn’t surprise me. John is the only person I know who not only loves poetry and art, but is also obsessed with accounting programs!
We had a ball at Carmi’s Commandos tonight. The project was making an ATC from fabric and fusible webbing—something I’ve never done before, and it’s so much fun. Carmi walked us through each step…well, mainly me since everyone else seemed to know what they were doing.
