Hey people. Friday my buddy Linda came over for a little jewelry making workshop. (She didn't oog-out on my house due to my grudging domesticity the day before.) As you can see, I have a few supplies. (I have even more. After cleaning out my art closet this weekend I found tons more I'd forgotten about over the years.)
Speaking of improvising-- Worked a bunch more on the commish Sat. I got this splattery effect just right and nearly dry before it started raining. At first I was bummed, but see how there are rings of paint where the inside of the blob washed away? I kind of like that, and wouldn't have come up with it on my own. Thanks for the new technique nature. (Also note the teeny lines scratched into the blue paint with an exacto knife. Can you say tedious, hand-cramping work?)
I got it all off, but only when I was done did I notice that I'd actually worn the corners of my nails completely off! Ow! Dan took this picture. He goes, "It doesn't even look like anything. People will just think you bit your nails, so what?" Me- ~pouty look~. Him, "Oh fine. Tell your big story about it." Look, just take my word for it. It hurts okay?
Mom and grandma were duly impressed with my wardrobe bravado.
Sometime over the weekend Dan flipped over a board by my shop and found this cool mold. Yes-- It's mold, and he could have been bummed it was somehow damaging his lumber, but instead he saved it to show to me. "It would be cool if you could figure out how to replicate that in your artwork huh?" Cool.
In my big cleaning purge currently underway I uncovered a few old sketchbooks. (I like keeping them to look through.) Inside one I found a poem I'd copied down when I was younger. Come to think of it, they're probably lyrics. Should be at any rate.
"Some people say you shouldn't tempt fate, and with them I would not disagree.
But I never learned nothing from playing it safe. I say fate should not tempt me."
It's a little cornbread, but I remember this being my total mantra for years. It went with that "Two Roads" one by Robert Frost-- my other words to live by. Words are so important. Most people don't realize the power they carry.
Recently a friend and I discussed this a little-- how you can frame an experience very differently by either saying, "I'm a victim of ___." or "I'm a survivor of ___." Actually, by making ___ part of your story at all you are tethering it to you, making it an appendage.
Over and over in my head the last few days I've been saying "I have way too much stuff!" as I sort and purge. Yesterday in the mail was an assessment from the city for $2500. This won't sink us or anything, but I'm going back to my old mantra immediately.
"I have more than enough of everything I need."
What words are you putting out there for the universe to reflect back to you?