Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
I bought this really big piece of black sanded paper with the idea of working BIG, pushing my envelope of comfort around the pastels. Now, I have only worked on sanded surface once before, and that was dynamite. It picks up every speck of pigment, and the result is thrilling for this little artist. Perhaps it is picking up too much? Well, this is but a mere idea at the moment. The superstucture. Funny, when I photograph a piece, I can see right away where it is working and where it needs more. The white is a little too much, don't you think? I am thinking of muting it with some pale colors. But I am liking the idea of it all just fine, and that is huge for me. I am horribly critical of my own work. Not in a mean-spirited way, but in the what-were-you-thinking way. So, back to the drawing board. Good project for a really warm spring day. Dogs are romping in the backyard when not draped around the floor like discarded clothing. Good movie on the TV running in the background. Up to elbows in pastels. Yes, it's all good. Whatever isn't done will still be there tomorrow. Yes.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
I caught and released 9 mice, and that looks like the lot of them. No mouse sign for a couple of days. Yay. Then I noticed that this bird kept trying to fly into the house when I had the front door open. Come to find she has made a nest in the wreath there, and laid five jellybean sized eggs in it. Now, we are keeping the door shut, hoping our porch time for the pooches has not interfered with the gestation of these tiny creatures. A couple of weeks will tell. Honestly, wildness all around me this year. Luckily, the backyard jungle got tamed yesterday, and further ministrations should have it all spiffed up soon, so dog and poopie have a place to loll about. At least I will not lose Punk in the high grass any more. What a character. None of my other dogs really cared for the mess of dog toys I have here. Punk loves them. He gets them to squeak. He pulls them all out of the basket the way my son pulled all the pots and pans out of the cupboard when he was a toddler. I put them all away at the end of the day, and we start over the next morning. Teaching him to sleep in next. Yeah. That'll happen.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Punk is about twice as big as his original shipping weight. That means 3 1/2 lbs. That's still pretty small. He has three speeds: 90 MPH, whatever, and stop. When he goes with me in the tote bag, he settles in, sits in the baby seat of the shopping cart, and hardly anyone notices him. We are about to embark for the 2 PM meeting, where he will sit on my lap, like a little teddy bear. A teddy bear that has to pee every half hour. I have decided that training him is useless until he has a bigger bladder. Yes, we are all in love with our Punkin boy. Pickle plays with him for hours, even lets him win at tug-of-war sometimes. So happy to be the pack of three again. Happiness is, indeed, a warm puppy.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
My presentation days are now over. The Sonoma International Film Festival (15th Annual, where have I been for 15 freaking years?) was privileged with my august presence this weekend. Now, what do you think they do at the Sonoma FF? Right. They drink wine. Lots of it. And since I don't drink, and prepare, even though I was a raw beginner at my schtick, I knew all would be well since the audience was already pretty toasted by the time the film began. My first film, Invine Welsh's Ecstasy, had only one representative, an executive producer. I arrived early with the goal of finding her and schmoozing her and getting a feel for what would make her happy. She, on the other hand, did not arrive till 2 minutes before the film. My little plans and designs. Sigh. The film was all about drugs, with a fair splash of alcohol, too. I was impressed that they took a different tack, talked about the addict's search for meaning and spirituality through drug use, and the big bad drug dealer did not drag the innocent into his web - she pulled him up into hers. Adam Sinclair's performance was wonderful, and I am sure he is destined for something wondrous. And last night's film was On Falling, a little indie flick, which promised four representatives, the director and three actors. Again, there I was, early, and we cooled our heels outside for 20 minutes waiting for the first film to end. Sigh. I could already smell that the crowd had been imbibing. Once we finally got in, I found that there were actually eight filmmakers present, plus the mayor of Sonoma. Help! And that arrived in the person of my mentor, who, bless his heart, conducted the Q&A. And did I mention that this film was also heavily laced with drug/alcohol use. The cheese guy suggested I have a glass of wine before my first appearance. I thought about it, and said my 3rd step prayer, instead. It worked for me. I got off the hook for the second showing of Ecstasy because the rep wasn't attending, and driving 40 minutes to Sonoma for a 5 minute intro was just stupid. I was not perfect my first time out the gate. No matter. The crowd was happily toasted, and we all got a good laugh out of it. Had I not had the Punk to think of, I would be back there using my stinkin' badge to see something that did not have anything to do with drugs. Now settling in for an afternoon nap. The Punk was pretty upset from being left in his prison in the kitchen two nights running, and got me up at the crack of dawn today. Ah, life on life's terms, and the joys of being puppy mommy.
Monday, April 09, 2012
I called in for a refill of my thyroid meds, the one I have to take every day for the rest of my life, and found that I was out of refills. Like, do they think I am going to overdose on this stuff? Come on, give me a break. And the mouse-in-the-stove chewed through the lid of the plastic container I stored Pickle's food in the night before last, so I put it in a more sturdy container, which also turned up with a hole in its side. This necessitated a trip to Cost Plus for glass containers, and to Trader Joe's, for new dog food. That damn mouse is getting really expensive. Really, I keep starting this day over, and it keeps dumping stuff on me. Happy to report we got home, the Punk and I, without incident, from our travels. I suppose that is about all I can expect, ever. A nap would be nice now. Oh, wait. The Punk is running in circles on the rug beside me. Meanwhile, not happy with this painting yet, but it is coming, I think. Just happy to have a few to myself today, on this, funky Monday.
While I know I am blessed in many ways, as I pulled my (low-top) Converse All Stars over my exceedingly high instep this morning, my focus landed on all my deficiencies, like a piggy little nose that reveals far too much nose hair, and my weinie Ally McBeal hair, that, even freshly washed and short as hell, just lays there, limp and exhausted before spraying the hell out of it to encourage it to look like more than it is. And I started off wrong today, anyway, because there we were, the pack of three, all warm and happy at 7:45 AM, a new record for the Punky baby, and Pickle started barking. Aaaaaarrrrggggh! Then, despite numerous trips outside, the Punk laid a pile just out of my eyesight, on the area rug. You think he knew not to do that? Like he was just underlining my poor start? And, I went off to the lab at 9AM, thinking I would beat the crowd, only to run smack into them. A happy hour and a half later, sitting on my full bladder, I got to pee in the cup. Lucky me. Okay, I am in a foul mood, and program teaches me I can start over here. So, starting over, HP. And the white horse is going into abeyance today, because I think he is mostly done-diddy-done-done. Perhaps a new subject will help me lift my pitiful self out of the abyss of self-pity I seem to have hurled it into.
Saturday, April 07, 2012
I went to the memorial for my friend who committed suicide today. Unlike many before it, this ceremony refused to ignore that he took his own life, or, as one put it, "opted out". He was horribly depressed for the last year, and ran out of solutions. He went right to the source, as another put it. So, sad and lost, I came home (first time I left the pup alone, too), got into my grubs and began a new painting. Lots of joy in that process, and I needed a lift. This is how it all begins, the pastels. Scratch away at the paper, get the idea there, scratch some more. For some reason, it seems easier to know when something is done in this medium. Of course, there are those works which just don't speak to me. That is why God made two sides to the paper, you know. This one is a wonder from the beginning. I get that horses are something I love to paint, all that power and majesty. So much to be in awe of on our tiny blue ball whirling about the cosmos. This one is for you, Roger.
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
The puppy is in playful mode. He runs away from me when I want to pick him up. Now, I know this is just puppy stuff. And yet, yesterday, I took it personally. Strange how easy it is to slip into that they're-doing-it-to- me mode, especially considering that I have not had a good night's sleep since the little bugger landed here 2 1/2 weeks ago. Really like having an infant. Exactly like that. Everywhere I go, he goes, in the tote bag or in the big zipper carrier. Makes going anywhere a real production. Which is why, I remember now, I said no more, never, never doing another puppy. And in the end, I want a dog that I have molded to my particular ways, not one that someone else raised, so, gee, only way to do that is to raise it myself. So, here's to late night flashlight tours of the backyard and pre-dawn wake-up calls. I have solved the running away. I just put him on a long leash whenever I take him out, and reel him in when we are ready to go inside, whether he is ready or not. And in the moments that he slept this week, I started this mommy oriented painting. Exactly what I feel like most of the time - pesky youngun waking me up, again.