Here's the dry part of art that does exist, even for me, the lofty, hippy goob.

After uploading the latest paintings, I've decided to paint the stories that make up my life, one. Lil' Dood was so wonderful to paint and remember, he was such a character.

Two, I need to do more big shapes with color to bring the viewer to the painting and then spend the time doing detail that sucks in the viewer further. This latest landscape is big, yet will really work well in a small space-- because its mainly made up of nothing but detail. Its gorgeous, but the contrast and shapes in the second tree from the left is the real star of the show-- and that teaches a lot.

Three, I LOVE contrast and trumped up color, and that fits with all the happenings in this life and in this body. Seems that is what this path is about, no matter how I want to steer it down a quiet road, someone comes with a bullhorn and shocks me back to... reality?? Is there any such thing. Reminds me of Tesla's
Heaven's Trail (No Way Out) lyrics.

Rude awakenings, ha ha. Remember this post?? All I want is two or three months (ok, I'm pushing it now) of *nothing* happening but forward movement (you know, people getting sick, houses falling apart, computers smoking... but then there comes a kick in the balls. (Well, powers that be, now I'm expecting it, so I got a sports cup and I'm gonna paint about it. Its fodder now.)

I'll take a lesson from Frida Kahlo, and those others wiser and greater than me, sure. Muse. A-muse. There ya go. God, I'm not taunting You--- just what that thing in fate is that keeps kicking me as soon as I try to get back up. Fine, I'll make money from it.   

I'll also do the great stories, too, the ones that are quiet and sweet. The last several days HAVE been quiet, thank God. If you don't count Devyn's trip to the ER and then doctor for impaction and the issues after that... or the possible cold he's getting now. Phew. I'm just grateful thats over! Best advice I've read this past week is: Life is not an emergency. My hair has been set on fire so often recently that I'm waking up automatically, patting myself on the head. If you get some serenity, thank God and keep it as long as you can. Nothing lasts forever, joy nor suffering.

But its been so beautiful. Sunshine. Oh, breathing in the sunshine. Getting outside to do something as mundane as washing the truck was a joy--- and seeing Stephen run after Devyn who was bookin it down our street. No one was on the verge of dying again, no one was needing an ER :) and being aware of it. Meeting Abbey and Justin across the street and Holly, Michelle's friend from New Orleans- about kudzu, voodoo, hummingbirds, labels, conservatism, liberalism, beer, clemato-beer (lol, it is good), listening to music that brought back memories of Tbone stealing cassette tapes for Susie Harrison and I :)

Bun and I going to the Women's Conference to meet a therapist who supported me in starting up art groups again. I would so love that, had given up on it due to not having  any credentials. Its so important and integral for me to do this. 

For the first time in forever, I was aware of walking into a place without self consciousness, without feeling intimidated by the business people there. Without feeling out of place. Thank you, God. Fourty is kinda cool.

Its so hard to photograph one of these kinds of paintings! The glare is from all the transparent glass-like sheen, a killer to photo, but thats why I like it. OK, at the top left going clockwise, is his little brown hen's portrait. She was always on his mind, like the Elvis song, and is therefore over his head, and is always held to the highest like in her life. Her background is Mona Lisa's background. The image in front of The Good Man is also his hen, showing how he sings his love song "Unchained Melody", probably one of the most danced-to songs ever, and is probably what he felt after she passed away before he did. (Yes, animals do grieve.) He wraps her in his song. Above her head is written "She knows she's loved." This might be about her, but its more about me :) When you find a "good man", you know you're loved.

The music goes into his chest and becomes part of him because he makes it--- a creator cannot make something that isn't of him/herself, you cannot give what you don't have, as they say.

The lower right image is his bright, strong, stout legs that defended nests, dug food and showed both boundaries and kindness. In person, you can see the various shades of green at different levels of depth through the clear resin. The barbed wire is the barbed wire I wish we'd had when the neighbor's dogs had gotten loose.

The last image, the lower left, shows me really trying to capture all the colors in his feathers at once, capturing time in one glance. The only thing I could think of that held that many colors simultaneously is glitter. His feathers dangled down like earrings sometimes, like leaves and fruit from a branch, hence that odd looking decorative deely-bob on his tail.

His feathers are also referenced in the interference and iridescent colors used in the resin-glass pieces. If you look at it head on, you can see green, move to the left and you don’t see that one, but a purple sheen showing up somewhere else. The song wraps and creates both of them.

All in all, the entire color scheme is a suggestion of the time of year in which energy picks up: spring! Early spring has the chilly, frosty mornings and sunlight afternoons. Lil’ Dood was so happy around this time of year, full of himself and doing more dances and running around chanting “butter butt”.

The only thing I regret not doing was adding the chicks, but I suppose early spring is not the chick-time, so it can be overlooked. I may put a chick or two in there somewhere later.

New Painting update! Meet Lil’ Dood, "The Good Man". He is the subject behind a true story and Candie Tallquist’s inspiration. Candie needed something for the Great Northwest Glass Quest here in Stanwood/Camano Island, and since I needed something glass-like, I experimented with various layers of resin. The paint and objects between the layers of resin symbolizes the iridescent colors in his plumage.

Candie's need was the first inspiration, this supernatural story is the second. My Dad passed away March 19, 2006… a few months after Katrina and a week after my 33rd birthday.

On the anniversary of his death several years after he passed away, I was standing outside thinking about him and the wisteria plant he had given Stephen and I. My thoughts wandered to how he had this oddball love for bantam chickens and how he appreciated the spirited little things. I thought it was funny because they were supposed to be cross and territorial.

That afternoon, I kid you not, my Mom called and said that a chicken was walking around her apartment complex parking lot and asked if I wanted it. It’s a residential neighborhood and NO ONE kept chickens. (I didn’t know Moss Point, Jackson County, MS had laws against owning chickens, so I said “Sure”.)

So, here she comes, bringing this small bag- like the ones tree huggers like us use instead of plastic grocery bags. I asked “Well, where is it?” and she said, "In this bag". So, she takes this little skinny thing out and it walks around the kitchen. We didn’t know for sure if it was a chicken because it looked scrawny, like a roadrunner… but the minute “it” saw our pet Duck, he “bowed up” making the gender and message quite clear. I complained, “Oh, no, it’s a little dude!” because they are notorious for being mean-spirited. Great, I thought, now we have this little thing to kick our butts all the time. I can't not love any animal, so, he had a home and his new name, Lil’ Dood, stuck.

We kept this little guy, crowing and all, a secret. He didn't beat us up. He did dances when we clapped our hands and sang, but he was so lonely. He followed anyone and everything around the yard, mumbling “butter butt” to us, cats, other birds and the grumpy duck. He had even gotten to the point where we could pet him and he’d let us pick him up. This doesn’t sound anything like the mean, feisty little bantams I’ve heard from old timers’ stories.

So, we get him a hen. While she was being acclimated to the yard in a separate pen, Lil Dood tried to show his appreciation for her beauty—to which, she tried to open a can of whoop-ass on him. Good for him there was at least a barrier to save his physical feelings. His emotional ones? Not so much.

She continued to whoop him at every opportunity, so we got him another one. This one must be THE one :) It was love at first sight.  Pretty soon, he was scratching the ground and offering her food. What?! This is the mean little cranky breed everyone talks about?

Later, came the chicks. He was an even “better” father than he was “husband”. During the “pregnancy”, he was a wonderful husband and doted on the hen whenever she came out and, often, scratched and danced inside the nest box at her. Just about the only time he was cantankerous was when she bumped into him while he was asleep.

After the bantamlets hatched, he would scratch and point out bugs and food, not eating it himself- instead, offering his finds to the chicks. One grew up to be another “Lil’ Dood” who often tested his boundaries, yet Lil’ Dood, Sr. never pecked him, although he did put him in his place.

I can’t remember what happened to the little hen, but he was sad and lonely after she passed. He had a good life, although one without a mate, afterwards. Eventually, loose neighborhood dogs snuck into our fenced-in yard and that was the end of Lil’ Dood and a few of our other pets. I miss him and he continues to live on in a story I love to tell.

What makes Lil’ Dood supernatural?

First, the way and day we got him, exactly on the anniversary of my Dad’s passing, on a day when random, wistful thoughts turned into a funky walking reality. This tells me that God (whatever name anyone chooses to call “It”) has both a sense of timing and humor. Secondly, in relation to my Dad, I suppose this little bantam embodied the characteristics that he wished he could have been in his life: gentle, doting and vigilant. In my Dad’s sober times, this is what we had (on occasion). I suppose this is why we mourned his alcoholism so much.

Either way, we appreciate the time we spent with such a comic relief that was Lil’ Dood, and we know we gave him a good life while he was here. Just like my Dad.

This blog won't be edited cuz its late and I'm tired. If there's something that just doens't "read right", so be it. Its late. Life is good and I keep it positive and laugh and make jokes, but there is another side, too. This makes me think, "why do atheists believe that Christians have to be good and nice all the time?" A post someone put on my fb page about Christians not being nice kinda makes me wonder is it supposed to be so unifaceted? Where does that fundamental flaw in thinking come from?

Anyway, I digress... no matter who you are, real life happens. Right now, Stephen is still looking for jobs, still looking for ways to make any money. We have officially fallen on hard times, obviously. I'm looking for work, too, but instead of chasing every rabbit into a hole, I'm on the hunt and not wavering from HillArtistry.

I've gotten several jobs so far, one is shown above, for Heather Kline. The other was a Amanda's henna baby shower. It was just beautiful to do, really a beautiful experience to share and vicariously enjoy the creation and arrival of new life.

While I haven't been "raking in" the dough, there will be a time when I will be so busy I can't see straight. It just takes time. I won't be distracted from it and will be ready when it happens. And I love doing what I do.

Either way, its tough. When you're a Mom, you are at work 24/7- you never get the time to just put your shoulders down and relax. You always know something is going to be interrupted at any moment and it always is :) I'm not complaining, thats just how it is and how its supposed to be. I don't get time to do the things that will make us as successful as fast as either of us want because he has to be on the computer so much and Bun needs attention and love. That is never a conflict, my child simply comes first. Its hard to update a computer website with your baby holding onto your leg, crying and wanting to be held. The balance between the two worlds isn't something new to anyone with children.

I can't just whip out the paint and start painting, either. Kids eat that stuff. I'm working on two projects for Candie Tallquist, an oil painting on one of the old wooden toys she has and a "redo" on the other one. I messed up and can't start on part 2 of the piece because I'll sit my hand right into another piece of the painting. I already did it once--- I put drying medium into the paint, but drying medium doesn't work appropriately on hard substrates. Live and learn and relearn the things we forget, huh?

Point is, I LOVE DOING IT, its just that Stephen isn't available during the day, I only get nap times and after bed to work. Feels like there isn't enough time in the day.

Had to update the henna supply page, too. Thats something that can make profit without too much work because I have everything made right now.

I'll get to it tomorrow, I hope. I had a dream about Mom dying last night, my subconscious telling me that I know our time is limited and its gonna hurt like hell when it happens. 

I finished a poster last night and I'm so proud of it, for the composition, beauty and feeling of it (and a surprise you'll read in a paragraph or two :) It has a flaw or two that needs to be fixed, but minor ones.

The only thing I feel guilty about it something I didn't foresee: I posted it because of its beauty and someone "shared" it as an invitation without Candie Tallquist from Candie's Kids in Stanwood seeing it first. I wish I'd seen that coming. She should have been the first to see it, and for that, I am sorry

Sometimes public opinion is that computer artwork is somehow not artwork, that somehow there is less work or less creative work involved. It took 3 days or so to do, about as much as a painting. What people don't know is that everything in the posters I make are "made". I'll get a card and erase the background (the Queens at the top) and then put another Queen into it... turn it around opposite and then do a color over it. The key was created because it was a rusty, wooden looking thing... I ran a style over it, tweaked that and there is the key.

The Eat Me, Drink Me was freeware, untouched, the hats were borrowed and revamped with color and pattern, the keyhole was part of a freebie from one of my favorite design sites (they get rid of their old stuff when they have new to sell). I added the light over the mushroom... even added the pouring tea and the tea in the cup in the middle. And most importantly, right there in the middle is my best creation ever: our son. After erasing his original background, just added some color over him and an action or two and he matches the Alice in Wonderland backdrop. This was so much fun and the biggest blessing is knowing this is what I was created to do, and dear God, I am so grateful.

But it makes me wonder about people's painting processes... and wonder how people can do mass produced objects that take little time. Sure, they like it, but when I do something, I get lost in the creation, the moving, the rearranging, the trying this and that and the color and texture. I love it. It brings me to a world where anything is possible as long as my attention span and tenacity hold up. Whether its oil paint, the acrylic rooster on the easel now, the clay soap-dish or the Mad Hatter poster, the luscious process is something I could roll in, like a dog in a treasured scent.

Every brushstroke is felt in detail, in my bones. The color has the same emotional sensation inside my head/heart as savoring Eggplant Pirogue or Shrimp and Tasso pasta at Copeland's (my favorite dishes).

So, yes, I may get my paintings finished quickly, but I'm actually painting slowly and feeling, absorbing, the experience of it.

So what is the better method? For me, when you're absorbed in the process and loving the flow, the product shows the love that went into it and HAS to be beautiful. Its just the nature of being open and letting the Divine energy flow through you into your creation. 

I dedicate this new year to love, joy and integrity.

So, now the website is finished! And I sit here and wonder if there is more I should do to it because its become a habit, like having a piece of cake every night. I've gotten so accustomed to having this to do that I haven't "primed the pump" with inspiration for new pieces yet. I've got to say, I am PROUD of it and need to send Weebly some love! Its not like I don't have a billion other things to do, but it does feel nice to take a break once in a while. I sat here and "optimized" over half of the pages, so I hope search engines will pick up and grab what crumbs I've left out.

In other news, apparently President Obama had his fill of people sending him communications about the Newtown shooting. He had a press conference about it. I'll wait a month or so before I send him my proposal via mail :)

This year is starting out with hope. The last one ended minus some innocence... isn't that the price of living sometimes? Devyn got his first haircut today and I was both proud and sad. I gave it to him and seeing the hair that was growing on his head in my womb come off was somewhat of another umbilical cord being cut. I saw a shooting star, a huge one, streak across the sky perfectly overhead. Its been a good night.

I'm not letting roots of negativity grow anymore. I wrote a letter to a dear loved one, one of the closest we can have in life, requesting that I am not the only person they rely on for comfort when their anxiety becomes too much to bear. I also asked that person to not call me with their health worries until after they have contacted their doctor because I don't have the answers to give. That is unfair to ask of anyone, unless its a professional. That took courage on my part and I'm giving myself credit for it because it wasn't easy.

I am here to tell you that you are the only you that you will have. You are the only source of comfort for some people, like your children and spouse- which is completely OK. But when it comes to others, they need to "diversify" their burdens and it is completely ok to ask others to not use you as an emotional dumping ground because you will become so heavily weighted that swimming in what can be sometimes murky, deep and treacherous water of life becomes impossible.
People sometimes need to be reminded that we have lives outside of what they know of us. If change doesn't happen, I'm willing to change myself to sidetrack the side-effects.

Because of all this, life feels hopeful. Things have ended and things are beginning. My next piece I'd like to be fun, clear, clean and blue.