Dreaming in Chiaroscuro

Sketches and potential paintings...maybe.

2010-08-25T06:59:00.008-05:00

This has been a month for getting images on paper that I've been struggling with for ages. The exceptions are the unicorns but even they came out better than they have in the past.

Click for a bigger image.

I remember the dream this faery appeared in, even though it was back in the '90's. She lived near a streambed and I, along with two others, had to repair it after it had been damaged. I never knew what happened to the streambed, just that she thought we had done it. I remember thinking I had to watch my p's and q's because she could actually kill us if we accidentally insulted her. We managed to fix the stream to her satisfaction. Thank the gods - even if she didn't kill us, I wouldn't want to be whacked with that stick.

This is another dream image that has stuck with me. I remember dreaming I was on an island when two unicorns came trotting out of the water. I love how the horn isn't in the usual place. Here, I just played with the idea of a mare and colt, especially how the colt's horn would be just starting to grow.

I'm going to have to refine this one for a painting, if only for myself. It's another idea I've played with for a few years and just couldn't get it to work.

I like the little one with her eyes shut tight. I imagine her sounding a little like Ike from South Park: "Oh no...." I also like the farmer just waving away, like flying through the air over an alien landscape is an everyday thing. He may even be yelling, "Hello! Nice night, isn't it?!"

A few goofy cartoons

2010-08-25T06:43:00.005-05:00

As usual, click to embiggen

Hee - I should probably stay inside during the next few (twenty, thirty) storms...

I remember that day. It was the umteenth day in a row of near 100 degree heat and bazillion percent humidity. I was sitting at the table after switching out sketchbooks because it seemed my new one was soaking up half the humidity out of the air and my pencil felt like it was dragging through the damp pulp. It was the middle of the afternoon and I thought, "That's it. I have officially Had Enough."

I was listening to Science Friday and they were celebrating the 50th anniversaray of SETI, the Search for ExtraTerrestrial Intelligence. It's silly but it made me laugh to think of a little grey getting anxious over the SATs and trying to figure out what a train was, let alone when it will meet another one.
The strange thing about the smiley sketch...about twenty minutes after I doodled it, I looked up and saw a nearly identical one in the clouds over head!

Tomato Art Fest time again!

2010-08-25T04:56:00.022-05:00

Good god, it's been over a month since I posted here?! Well, it has been a little busy...

I'll admit I had my doubts about entering the Fest this year, mainly because I couldn't seem to get anything off the ground. No ideas. Nothing. Zero. Zip. Nada. I finally went back to an old sketchbook to look at some ideas that didn't pan out before.

I had this idea three years ago and just couldn't get the village to fit into the tomato. I guess it just needed time to ripen (pardon the pun.) Here's the first version:

I actually liked this version but I just couldn't justify in my own head how the tomato would burst like that and still be on the vine. So I tried again, this time with the tomato on the ground:

This version made more sense in my head and so here the finished 8" X 10" painting. I'm happy to say it's sold!

I also did another series of Ode (they're all around 2" x 3") for the festival. As far as I know, all of them but the bald one and the pigtails have sold:

Bast's followers are at it again...

2010-07-05T02:12:00.002-05:00

One of these days, I may just get slapped upside the head for these cartoons.

Daily Drawing - The place where I do most of my drawing

2010-07-05T01:46:00.009-05:00

The daily drawing prompt was to draw the place where I do most of my drawing. I sit under a big cedar tree most of the time, except when it's really cold or raining. There are a few things I'm not happy with in this sketch - like Nathaniel's leg. I think it actually attaches a little differently to his body but of course, like all life models, he started moving whatever part I was focused on. I don't know how in the world he can sleep like that either.

Click on the graphic to embiggen.

Daily Drawing: Carnivorous plant

2010-07-05T01:30:00.003-05:00

I've been on the Daily Drawing list for a long time now and I decided it was high time I started contributing to it.

One entry was for a carnivorous plant. I decided to go to one of my favorite books of all time for inspiration - Day of the Triffids. Here is my rendition of a triffid but I forgot to give it any leaves.

Poor little naked triffid.

Sketch: Giant Leopard Moth

2010-07-05T01:15:00.003-05:00

I had a visitor the other day. This fella stuck around for hours. I figure it had just come out of the chrysalis and was drying its wings. According to enature.com, it is a Giant Leopard Moth - what wooly worms become when they grow up!

Wishcasting Wednesday

2010-06-02T04:22:00.003-05:00

Jamie Ridler says on her website: "You can be a maker of magic and a tender of wishes. It's easy." All you have to do is answer the prompt on your blog and link in. Today's prompt is "What do you wish to know?"

Oh gods, there's an entire universe, both out there and in here. What don't I want to know?

Some of the things I want to know are pretty mundane, if fangirly. Will Atlantis ever get back to the Pegasus galaxy? (I hope so.) What was it Sam felt so bad about before he died in "Under the Dome"? Will we ever get to ~~ogle~~ see Wolverine in another movie? (Oh god yes, please.)

All right, I suppose I won't waste wishes on those.

Other things I want to know: why do all the best songs come on the radio just as you have to leave or get out of the car? Why do I always have plenty of pennies in my pocket, except when I need them? How does my cat always know when I have something to eat, even when he's two floors down and outside?

I guess I won't waste wishes on those either. Sometimes it's better and more fun to wonder than to actually know.

Will we ever find definitive proof of life elsewhere in this big universe of ours? Is this the only one or are there many, many other universes? Can everything be explained and unified by one little elegant equation, like Einstein tried to find? I kind of hope not on that last one. I'm not so sure I want everything explained. Not only does it seem to be way too much diversity to be explained with one tiny equation but honestly - what fun would there be in it? There wouldn't be any mystery left.

What's life without a little mystery?

So what is it exactly do I wish to know? There are so many directions to go in. Spirit, career, love to name a few. I may as well go for a big wish, one that is ~~a little~~ scary as hell for me. May as well kick that fear to the curb, even though I know it won't go without a lot of screaming and kicking of its own.

I know I am a solitary person. I don't need someone in my life 24/7. In fact, I need solitude in order to function or things can get very ugly and surly. It's just the way I am. I don't need to be "completed," "made honest" or "a real woman" by another person.

Even so, this doesn't mean I don't want to share things with someone. Someone who can appreciate the mystery, the splendor, the...total awesomeness of this universe but doesn't need someone around 24/7 either. Of course, I say that now. We could choose to be inseparable, for all I know.

Thing is, I'm not sure I know how to do this. I was with someone a long time. It wasn't perfect (what is?) but it was relatively stable. I guess a part of me decided, for good or whatever, that was it. When it was over...I don't know. How do you undo a decision you weren't even sure you made until it was taken away?

So here is my wish. I wish to learn how to let go of this thing that doesn't even exist anymore. I wish to learn how to let go so I can get on with living, loving and even more creative insanity.

This is my wish, I reckon so. (Heh. Thank you Josey Wales.)

The septagram - part one

2010-05-26T20:50:00.006-05:00

(This is part of a series I'm writing for another site. I'm hoping posting it here will inspire me to finish it soon. I'm having trouble fitting some of the modern uses into this and will hopefully post them when they're done.)

Most Pagans are familiar with the pentagram. An outgrowth of this symbol is the septagram, a star with seven points. It is also known as the Faery Star, Elven Star, Elven Star of the Seven Sisters and acute heptagram. There are representations of it found in mathematics, paganism and even the subculture called Otherkin.

A Smattering of Math
Mathematically, the septagram is called the acute heptagram ("hepta-" being Greek for seven.) It belongs in a class of shapes called star polygons. They are usually represented by a fraction composed of prime numbers. In this case, the heptagram is known as a 7/3 star polygon. This simply means seven points are spaced evenly around the circumference of a circle and when drawn, the straight lines are connected at every third point. However, it is theoretically impossible to accurately draw a septagram with only a pencil and a straight edge, unlike the pentagram. Where the interior angles of a pentagram come to 36 degrees (180 degrees divided by 5), the interior angles of a septagram come to about 25.714 (180 divided by 7.)

Why seven?
There are as many reasons the number seven is sacred as there are people. One theory is it may have come about from the number of planets that could be observed in the ancient sky. It could also come from the seven observable stars of the pleiades, also called the Seven Sisters, or those seven stars that every child learns in the night sky called the Big Dipper. Another theory says the moon is responsible. It changes phase every seven days - from new to crescent, half, full and back to new again.

A Smattering of History
One of the oldest representations of the septagram is linked to the seven planets. It comes from the Hellenistic (circa 323 BC to about 146 BC) world This was a time of expansion for the Greeks, whose influence was felt from Italy to Egypt, the Middle East and Asia. During this time, the seven day week was widely adopted and each day was associated with a planet. The planets were placed in a counterclockwise circle in the order of the apparent speed of their travels across the sky, from Moon to Saturn. If a line is drawn from the point representing the Sun, not only does it form a septagram but also shows the days of the week in correct order.

The septagram makes another appearance during the Renaissance as an alchemical symbol. Usually seen reversed, or upside down, it was used to represent the seven recognized metals: lead, tin, iron, gold, copper, mercury and silver. Again, each metal was associated with one of known planets. It was also a depiction of the seven steps of the alchemical process: calcination, sublimation, solution, putrefaction, distillation, coagulation and tincture. Black (or "nigredo") was considered to be the starting point. As Saturn was the slowest moving planet in the sky, lead was considered by many alchemists to be the prima materia, or base material. With each step, impurities were supposed to be removed from the lead until all that was left was gold.

Upcoming posts: Modern uses of the Septagram and explorations into the meanings of the seven points - sun, land, water, magic, wind, moon and connection.

Sources (includes sources for info on some modern use as well):
Seven point star

Weisstein, Eric W. "Star Polygon." From MathWorld--A Wolfram Web Resource.

Weekday heptagram

The Metal - Planet Affinities - The Sevenfold Pattern

The Heptad, 7 from Numbers, Their Occult Power and Mystic Virtues, by W. Wynn Westcott, [1911]

Sublime Lead: The Biography of a 5000 Year Toxic Love Affair, Chap. 6 -
The Honeymoon: Lead and Alchemy: Decoding Chemistry Within the Imagery (pdf file)

an essay on the seven pointed star, by magpie

Blue Star Beliefs

Occult Rock

What Does the Star Mean?

A future tattoo

2010-05-26T20:23:00.003-05:00

It needs a little tweaking but this is it. I think I'd like it to be on my left wrist...if I go through with it. I keep thinking, "what if it hurts more than I can stand?" and "What if I get tired of it? I know me, I get bored pretty easily..."

In any case, it's been fun coming up with it.

A new sketchbook

2010-05-25T22:18:00.010-05:00

I thought about joining the Sketchbook
Project at the Arthouse Co-op this year. It sounds like a great thing - fill up a Moleskin sketchbook and it goes on tour before being permanently housed in an Art Library in Brooklyn. It gets its own barcode and has the option of being digitized and put online. You can even get an email everytime someone looks at it.

The more I thought about it, though, I decided I may not finish it. They're charging $25 for the sketchbook. I'd probably start thinking it was too "good" to just sketch in or even to mess up. So I decided to try it on my own, with a blank book I already had. It won't go on tour anywhere, unless I carry it in my backpack and the only library it will see is the the room where I keep most of my books but that's okay. This way, the sketches can be good, bad or whatever and I can just go ~~crazier~~ crazy.

I'll admit it - I stole the theme I was going to use if I signed up.

So, here's the first entry. Click on it to embiggen. I ended up changing the conversation between the two pterodactyls on the branch. The first one made no sense whosoever. I'm not saying it's great art or anything but it made me laugh.

Musing on the season finale of Supernatural

2010-05-14T03:33:00.005-05:00

I don't talk too much about fannish things but this time...I can't help it. I should say there's spoilers ahead if you hadn't seen the season finale of Supernatural. There are a only a few things I'm going to comment on because I've only seen it the one time so far and there may be some things I get wrong. Feel free to correct me, if you are inclined.

First of all, the biggie - Chuck.

I don't think he was God. At least, not always. Until the finale, Chuck was a very unconfident person. He hated what he saw in his visions. He hated - and had plenty of troubles with - the process of writing it all down. He drank to forget, more often than not. Let's not forget how he was at the convention at the haunted hotel.

The Chuck we saw in the finale was none of this. He didn't even seem to be merely recording what he was seeing and there were no blinding headaches (if I remember correctly, this was a problem when we first met him last season.) He had no problem whatsoever writing the story. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying telling the story of the Impala and how it was intertwined with the Winchester brothers - and he was very confident in telling it. There was that one spot in the story where he even commented on how he liked how a certain line sounded.

The story itself was different in tone to previous ones. There was no pulp here. Just a story, lovingly told.

This Chuck was also drinking but he only sipped his alcohol - and did it quite properly, at that. There only seemed to be two fingers' worth in that glass. (On a side note, when Dean calls Chuck for information, was the call girl in the magazine named "Mary Magdalene"?)

So - was Chuck God? Like I said, I don't think he always was. Chuck was the Prophet and he did his job, however hard it was and miserable it made him. I think God stepped at the end. It was an act of compassion (mercy, even?) and reward for a thankless job well done. It also afforded God a way to intercede, using the Impala to spark Sam's memories of happier times and the love between the him and Dean. Besides, what was it He said? Endings were tough to get down.

On a side note: I don't think God was as heartless as it seemed when we found out He wouldn't be helping defeat Lucifer. We've known a long while that the last battle was supposed to be between Michael and Lucifer, both being angels created by God. We never expect a parent to choose between two of their children - so why is God expected to choose one of His over the other, even if one of those children has rebelled? So it's no wonder He didn't want to take sides.

Castiel

I wasn't surprised that Castiel got his Grace back. In fact, after last week's episode, I would have been surprised if he didn't. He may have fallen and eventually lost his mojo but he kept his faith. It wasn't his faith in God, but rather it was a faith that he, Sam, Dean and later, Bobby would somehow get through this.

I call it faith because that is what it is. Way back in the episode where Uriel wanted to wipe that town off the map, Castiel tells Dean his orders were to do whatever Dean ordered. He may have started out only following and protecting Dean but somewhere along the line, Dean did as Dean does and took him under his wing. Castiel became family. Faith in God is good and all but when it comes down to brass tacks, is there anything stronger on this earth than family bonds? After all, who else will stand by you or give you a good, hard and swift kick in the assbutt when you need it?

I think this is exactly what Cas took back with him when he went back to heaven. He says he's not sure if God will ever show up again but he figures with Michael gone, the place may be in chaos. He's gone home to sort out his "other" family, maybe even using what he's learned from his time with the Winchesters.

Bobby

So, has the contract between Bobby and Crowley been fulfilled? We never heard the details of the deal, did we? Crowley only said he would "borrow" Bobby's soul for a little while (and it seems to me that he knew a lot more than he let on in the previous episode, didn't it? Especially since he said to Dean, "How about we go for pizza when this is all over?" as they searched fruitlessly for Death.)

Anyway...I think the contract has been fulfilled. In past deals, the one making the deal always got a set number of years before they died and went to hell. As vague as Crowley's deal was, Bobby did die if only for a little while before Castiel brought him back.

Sam

I'm not sure what to make of Sam at the end. Was he a ghost, watching over Dean as he had dinner with Lisa and Ben? It would certainly be one possibility, since ghosts are able to mess with electrical systems. He wouldn't be needed in Hell since Lucifer had been re-caged and it wouldn't be impossible for him to get out, especially with a little help, like say from oh, God?

I don't know. It's going to kill me waiting to find out. :-)

Stories...

2010-03-05T07:06:00.003-06:00

Geez. It's time to start blogging again. This poor thing has been neglected for long enough. I'll admit, it's partly due to that harlot Twitter. There's just something about fitting everything into 140 characters instead of writing an entire blog entry.

I want to get back to the original intent this thing. Don't get me wrong, I will (eventually) get back to posting my artwork. I just feel somewhere along the line I kind of forgot a few things, like "life, faith and gods know what else."

And stories. I've missed the stories.

Say whatever you want but to me, it's not love that makes the world go 'round. It's all the stories, running around looking for their entrance into this world, creating this crazy centrifugal force and BAM! There you go. Planets, stars and *everything* spinning and dancing around the universe.

...and I bet you thought it was something like 'gravity' and whatnot that set them spinning, didn't you? Well, there you go. One more story, as told in the Scientific Theory style of narration.

Is it ever right to lie about your path or aspects of it?

2009-12-19T20:02:00.005-06:00

I usually don't feel the need to lie about any aspect of my path. I am not ashamed of it by any means and could care less about what anyone else thinks. Tonight was a little different. I bought some bourbon as an offering and the person I was with asked, "What are you going to do with that? Drink it or make something with it?"

In the past, I have answered honestly and it would be as if my words hit Teflon. The fact I follow a path other than Christianity simply does not and will not exist in this person's mind. Even though it can be irritating, it's something I can put up with, most of the time. After all, who am I to tell someone else what to think in the relative privacy of their own mind?

But tonight, I knew it would be more of the same and I was tired of it. So I lied. I remembered reading on a forum about some bourbon muffins someone made as an offering for a deity so that's what I said - I thought about trying some bourbon muffins (apparently, I'm a horrible liar and can't make a lie out of whole cloth. I need source material.)

Even as I was doing it, I didn't like the fact I was lying, much less what I was lying about. True, my answer wouldn't be accepted if I did tell the truth but does that matter? Not really, not in my mind.

So here's the question(s): Is it ever right to lie about your path? Am I just holding myself to too high a standard (and apparently failing)? Should I just get over myself, shut up and go watch Pepe the Prawn?

A small prayer

2009-07-14T23:05:00.005-05:00

A while back, I got an idea for a story about a devotee, complete with a prayer woven through it. As the story progresses, we find out exactly what said devotee will do for his gods. Maybe the story will be ready to be born...someday.

Two lines, "Invisible to mortal eyes, let my cry come unto you," I can't claim but I also don't remember the source of them.

Here then, is my small devotional effort:

Prayer

Oh Lord,
Invisible to mortal eyes
Let my cry come unto you.

Take, O Lord,
My hands and
use them as you will.

Take, O Lord,
My mouth and
speak your wisdom.

Take, O Lord,
My heart, My mind
and my will.

Fill my soul, O Lord
Grant me sweet oblivion.

IA! IA!
Hear me,
O Priest of the Elder Ones!

IA! IA!
CTHULHU F'TAHGN!

Wake.

(What? Who'd you think it was going to be for? ;-) )

(Mostly) Finished Paintings...

2009-07-11T23:48:00.005-05:00

First off, a declaration: it's 11:44 p.m. and it's still hot. It's still humid. Who needs hell when you have summer in the South?

Now on to the paintings.

Here's Red, 7"x9" oil on birch:

I like the way this one turned out but...that hand! It gave me fits! I ended setting up a small mirror and holding a sketchpad to get the right position. Now that I look at it, I may have to tinker with the color a bit...or maybe I'll just leave it alone so I don't mess it up.

Music Box, 5"x8", oil on birch:

I really like the shape the dancer's body makes, although I will tinker with her face and arm a bit more. I just don't like that "daub" of a mouth and she's kind of muddy looking to me. Perhaps it needs a few more highlights too.

The Bee, 3.5"x4" (more or less), oil on birch:

This is one of those "end of the day" paintings I did just for myself. I found a dead carpenter bee on the walkway in front of the house and I had to immortalize it. I love my bee.

Now that I look at them together, I think it's pretty obvious when I paint from life and when I paint something purely from my head. The life (well, death) one is more painterly.

Crop Circle Discovered in Sumner County?

2009-07-11T00:26:00.003-05:00

Joannie Snigglebotham, Sumner County News staff writer

Residents of upper Sumner County had a mystery on their hands last Wednesday morning. A strange symbol appeared in a slightly overgrown grass pasture, resembling what is popularly known as a crop circle.

Word about the circle got out early, with people parking along the road to see it. Since the pasture was on a slight incline, many stood on the roofs of their cars in order to get a better look. Local authorities were contacted after the crowd began to get out of control late in morning and several people ignored the posted no trespassing signs. They tramped across the field to get a closer look.

By Wednesday afternoon, speculation was running rampant in this community. "Aw. ain't no mystery to that thing at all," said local resident Ira Smith. "It's just some damn kids playing a prank, that's all." Another resident, Vera Green, didn't know what to think. "It's just strange, isn't it? It just appeared overnight. Nothing like that's ever happened here before."

Unfortunately, the crop circle was destroyed before researchers could arrive to study it. The owner of the field, who did not want to be identified, mowed the field after the crowd of onlookers began trampling the grass and littering. Terry Onsmore, of the Sumner County chapter UFOrce, was allowed to enter the field after the field was mowed to take as many readings and samples as possible. While the results of the soil and plant samples will not be available for several weeks, magnetic readings taken at the site were promising.

"There were several places in the field where the needle nearly went off the scale," said Terry. "I came into this project convinced it was a complete hoax, not I'm not so sure. Readings of this kind are extremely hard to fake. What the heck happened out here?"

No one seems to know the answer to that question. There were apparently no strange sounds or lights the night before. This was verified by Azra, who lives across from the field. "I was working on a deadline," she said. "So I was up nearly all night to finish. I went out several times to take a break and look at the night sky. I didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

Crop circles are relatively rare in the United States. They are most often seen in Great Britain and depicting fanciful designs. Many who study crop circles believe the crop circles contain messages vital to the human race, although there is no credible evidence of that message being understood at this time.

In progress: Red

2009-07-02T06:31:00.007-05:00

Okay, I guess I lied. Even though I feel my brain tripping merrily off on its very own little roadtrip, I'll ramble a bit about Red Riding Hood.

Even though this painting isn't finished yet, I wanted to go ahead and post it. I consider this a "sister" piece to the werewolf painting in my icon. The entry about Little Red Riding Hood on that paragon of knowledge, Wikipedia, mentions the story may have come about around the same time the werewolf trials were going on. (Who knew there were even such a thing as werewolf trials in the Middle Ages?)

Well, that's all I needed to spark this idea. The other painting is based on the old German legend that says witches would plant tomatoes in their gardens in order to draw werewolves to them. So...who said the wolf in the woods was just a wolf? Why does Red here have a wolf mask? Is she trying to fool the wolf and sneak past him to Grandma's house? Is she really a wolf herself, wearing a human mask and carrying a second wolf one? Is she hunting herself or is she just smug because she's getting away with the ruse?

Good questions, huh? I rather like them. I'll let you come up with your own answers, though.

Okay, I think I'm done for real this time. I'll post Red again when it's finished.

Oh yeah...btw, I didn't forget to put in the hand that's supposed to be holding the mask. I just haven't gotten it where I like it yet. She's not really that orange either. I guess all that red is messing with the scanner a bit.

In progress: Freya

2009-07-02T04:29:00.000-05:00

Click the graphic to see a bigger version.

Freya is interesting and complex. She is a warrior, riding her boar into battle. As leader of the Valkyries, she is a psychopomp who claims half the fallen dead and takes them to her hall, Sessrumnir. She is a witch, who taught women the art of seider, prophesy and magic.

Of course, there is that other side of her. Lusty, sensual, beautiful. There's no hangups for this girl, she'll willingly use whatever skills she needs to in order to get what she wants. Just look what she did with (to?) those dwarves for the Brísingamen.

When I began this sketch, I wanted to reflect a bit of her complexity. It also seems natural, after facing so much death, to want to reaffirm life. Here she is, in the wood, her warrior's armor is shed, except for her Valkyrie helm by her side (minus the wings, which I haven't gotten around to putting in yet.) She is now wearing a traditional Norse dress and the Brisingmen is around her neck. Eventually, somewhere in the background will be Bygul ("Bee Gold" or Honey) and Tregul ("Tree Gold" or Amber), her two grey cats.

Of course, one of my own cats couldn't let this be without making his own mark so just ignore the spot there in the upper part of the sketch. I still haven't figured out whether it means, "This is worthy. I claim it as mine" or "This is what I think of you and your pathetic scribblings."

I'm not sure I really want to know.

(I also have a few more sketches and a painting in progress to post but I'll do it tomorrow. My brain is nearly gone at the moment.)

What?! No way!

2009-07-02T04:26:00.000-05:00

There is no way it's been nearly a year since I updated this thing. Good god.

:::insert _headdesk_ here:::

Praying for the gods?

2008-08-08T00:31:00.000-05:00

A while back, Beliefnet put up this article: Praying for Satan's Soul. In The Laughter of Aphrodite, Carol Christ writes about the effect an Elie Wiesel story had on her, where the main character prayed for the soul of God for letting the Holocaust happen.

It's common practice for who pray to pray to the gods but what about praying for the gods? Would it actually need to be done? What would the prayers be for? Continued well being? A change of heart, like those I mentioned above? A good pair of socks? (or was that Dumbledore?)

What do you think?

As the Tomato Turns...

2008-08-06T13:59:00.000-05:00

I'm kind of glad the last week and a half is over, mainly because I am so tired of myself. Last Sunday, the owner of the gallery presenting the Tomato Art Fest emailed me a question: "Would you be willing to do more of those little paintings?" So I decided to see what I could do.

Apparently, not much. At least, not as much as I thought I should be able to if I could just get out of my own damn way.

Monday was great. I cut the boards, built supports and glued them all together. Gessoed. Cussed a bit when said gesso dried too fast and cracked. Still, I love this craftsman phase. Saws! Hammers! Industrial Strength Glue! What's not to love?

But by Wednesday, Captain Oblivious was in full command. I had it in my head to go back to some of last year's ideas. "I know! I could try to work out the snail! I love that idea! What about the cherry one that has a little critter embryo in it? That can easily be adopted as a tomato..."

This was one of those times where the good Captain just needed to be shot. I lost two days to the Captain before I realized Meg meant "more paintings like the one you turned in last week."

So Friday, it began. The Great Painting Frenzy. Tomatoes in various "poses." Painting in phases because the paint would just turn to mud otherwise. Sleeping, eating and feeding the cats as the paint dried. At one point, my back hurt so badly from sitting, I vowed I would never sit again when this was all over. I also got so tired of hearing Dave Shuffett because KET4 decided to run a weekend long Kentucky Life marathon and I just never got around to changing the channel. I ended up getting four tomatoes finished:

I've also noticed something...well, stupid about myself when I delivered the paintings yesterday. I have to keep a clamp on my mouth because I can just feel the urge to start babbling when I'm around Meg. She has nothing but great things to say about my work. She has even given me a standing offer to bring her more work to hang in the gallery.

...and that's the problem I have to get over. I'm not in school anymore. I'm not going to get constructive criticism here. I have to stand on my own two feet. The work is good or it's not. I have to fight the urge to just start babbling about what I can do to make it better next time. In my own head, I can always do ever so much better.

Secretly, I wonder when everyone is going to figure out I'm just not that up to par. Until then - or I can just get over myself - I'm going to keep plugging away anyway.

Paintings and whatnot

2008-07-28T03:13:00.000-05:00

It's Tomato Art Fest time again! This year, it was a bit of a struggle to come up with ideas and when I did come up with one, I usually didn't know how in the world to carry it out. I had cityscapes hiding inside of tomatoes and whole universes leaking out of slices, complete with stars, planets and galaxies. Tomato shaped bubbles floating in the air (the background gave me fits on that one.) Hermit crabs and tomato shaped clouds.

Here's what I finally came up with:

I call this one Medusa. The lady at the gallery said it reminded her of a children's book about a little yellow baby boa constrictor who didn't want to grow up because he didn't want to turn green. She told me the name of the book twice and my ears just didn't have their gloves on for some reason. I never did catch it.

I finally called this one "Oh, Hello!" I worked on this one off and on for six weeks and the composition changed at least three times, maybe four. I felt I went out on a limb with this one because it has an actual background instead of what I usually do. I worked on this painting right up until two days before it was due at the gallery. Even the photos I took of it came out strange.

I told someone that I felt the same way about this painting as I imagine a parent may feel about a kid: you can't help but like them but you just know they're going to end up on the street, possibly in the wrong part of town.

This is Ode to Wazowski. That's about it's real size. I tinkered with this painting after the festival last summer. It was a plain little thing, with its little tomato self. I picked it up again this year and immediately saw it looking out at the world.

And yes, it's that Wazowski.

In my world...

2008-07-28T03:04:00.000-05:00

Bast has to put up with some real dumbasses...(one of these is a repeat - it's there for continuity.)

Bad PR Decisions

2008-07-28T02:57:00.000-05:00

Well? Have you?

2008-07-28T02:53:00.000-05:00

Why can't more mail be this interesting?

It's been a while. Is that a dustbunny moving across the floor?

2008-07-28T02:50:00.000-05:00

Hey y'all. I've missed you.

Well. What's been going on with you?

What? Oh, the late unpleasantness? It's calmed down, for the most part. I don't know what brought it on. All I know is this: after five days ~~of peace~~ alone, I refused to take the blame for whatever it was. I was told "It takes two to fight." True. That said, it only takes one to go crazy. Since then, there have been a few more instances where I have been called a smartass (and?) as well as rude, hateful and impatient (Hello, Pot!) All I can say is, "Whatever. Blame me for Iraq and Darfur if it makes you feel better. I just don't care anymore."

If I did, I'd never get anything done because I'd be a roiling mass of frustration, hurt and anger. That's a type of craziness I just do not need. If it makes me look rude and hateful, then so be it.

Let's get on with the good craziness, shall we?

2008-01-06T01:11:00.000-06:00

Oh happy day - I am not the only member of the Cult of St. Crazy.
Oh sad day - I am not the only member of the Cult of St. Crazy.

I feel like the worst person in the world

2008-01-05T17:04:00.000-06:00

Please feel free to skip this entry. I just had to tell this to someone. Anyone. I realize how awful this entry makes me appear but I just can't carry this around anymore.

When I first moved to this house, I had some rather...interesting neighbors. They were a couple in their sixties, I guess. He always wore overalls and tinkered with his trucks and she always kept her hair jet black, no matter what. More often than not, he would stay in the backyard and work on his truck, never saying a word while she stood in the back door and yelled at him. She had a unique way of it, starting out normal but slowing down toward the end: "Ah'm gonna kick. Yore. Aaaaaaassss...."

Now I've taken that guy's place in the neighborhood, except the bar has been lowered. All I need now to be a classic redneck is a snaggle toothed old man with his PBR sitting in an old lazy boy on the porch while his equally snaggle toothed old dog sits chained in a yard under an old crate.

I really think I'm going crazy - or the other person involved is. Either way, I wish I simply had the skill to deal with it. I should have just walked away but for a variety of reasons, all of them wrong, I didn't. Now, the point seems to be moot.

We would usually see each other about twice a week - Thursday and Sunday. She usually drives because I am, in her words, "a wild driver." I started noticing things in the last few months. The first time or two it happened, I just thought it was odd. Then I started to catch on. For example, sometimes she would ask me all kinds of questions about something, like how to get to a certain place. "Turn here? Go straight? What about this light? Turn or straight?" The problem would come when I anticipated the question. She'd turn of me and snarl, "Don't tell me what to do! I'm not as stupid as you think I am!"

Other times, she would get stuck on going to a certain store or restaurant, say, to the same Goodwill or Subway every Sunday or CARES store every Thursday for weeks on end. If I said something about it, she would make it a point that store was the very next stop because she urgently needed something from it.

(Okay, I admit it, I am slow. I should've said, "I am so tired and bored with Plaza Art Supply and the Frist. Don't even think about letting me near those damn boring Meerkats at the zoo and ugh, that same ol' art collection Georgia O'Keefe gave to Fisk. My god, I just can't bear the thought of eating hummus with the fresh tomatoes and pickles at that greek restaurant across from Vanderbilt on 21st...")

Anyway, yesterday was a good example. Things started very well. We were getting along and laughing, especially about how bored I was of going to the local CARES store because we go there Every. Time. We go. Out. She laughed as she said, "You just can't take it anymore, huh?" and I said, "NO!" As we shopped in Portland, she joked a bit about how broke she was. She forgot to stop at the bank that morning and she may have to borrow some from me. Okay. No problem. I was also joking about some laundry I needed to do while we were out.

Remember what I've said here.

Not fifteen minutes later, we're pulling into the CARES parking lot. "I just need to find some jeans to go with a shirt I have." I should have just stayed in the car. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. I don't know. I just know that one quick look told me that it was same stuff I'd seen the last few times we visited.

After that, she got more and more quiet. She only spoke to me long enough to borrow five dollars for lunch and this sparkling conversation:

"Do you want some of my chicken?"
"Not really, why? Do you want to trade for some of my fries?"
(as she shrugs her shoulders) "No. Are you taking your burger with you or eating it here?"
(I'm thinking, "huh?") "Does it matter?"
"I only asked a question! I didn't ask to have my head bitten off!"

I tried to start a conversation once or twice and it was like I wasn't even there. That's how it was all the way home, until a pickup came up behind us on a back road. She literally started snarling about "those damn bright lights. I can't see the road!" and it progressed, somehow, to me. It started out as: "Next week, you can take the car but I won't be going. I'm cutting back on my trips." and it ended up as "I am 62 years old! I can't even have a life because of you! I'm tired to staying broke buying gas, carrying your freeloading loser ass everywhere! I'm 62 years old!" She kept screaming that: "I'm 62 years old! I'm 62 years old!"

I knew what was coming but I stepped right into it anyway. "What does your being 62 have to do with anything?"

Now she's screaming as loud as she can. "Do you think I like hauling your loser ass around? I can't even have a life because you need the car!"

"What are you talking about? It's your car, you have it 24 and 7. You can do whatever you want! Anytime!"

It's been over twenty something years since I've seen her in a rage. Even so, this one surpassed anything I remember from back then. She started screaming even louder about all my faults. No matter what I said or did, she screamed louder and louder so she can't hear me even when I'm screaming back. I'm a loser with a bad attitude who bosses her around and if she had someone to help her raise a such a rotten thing instead of a wimp, things may have turned out differently. (This is the person who once declared, "I'm never getting angry ever again. It's not worth getting that upset over anything.")

I'm not blameless in this. I fell right back into that pattern that hasn't seen the light of day in twenty something years and I surpassed it. During all this rage, I went from feeling like I was a powerless, confused ten year old again to the one thing I said I never wanted to become - hateful, abusive and crazy. I gave just as bad as I got and I had a hell of a lot of memories to draw on.

(So go ahead, world. Throw whatever you want at me. I don't think you punish me any worse than what I'm feeling. I let myself down by becoming exactly like her. All my hard work over the years to fix myself, gone in an instant.)

Mind you, we're still on the back road while all this is happening. When we got back to my house, things got even more out of control. She got out, fueled by the fact that I slipped up, stood in my driveway and started screeching about how I am ruining her life and I am never bossing her around ever again. I could have caused a wreck back there with my crap. She can't even go to CARES without me worrying her to death. She'll go where she pleases, when she pleases and there's not one thing I can do about it. "Do you think I like sitting around while you do your filthy laundry? Do you think I like sitting in the car while you do your shopping in Wal Mart? I don't even feel like talking and you just keep yakking away! Yak! Yak! Yak! GET YOUR JUNK OUT OF MY CAR SO I CAN GO! I AIN'T EVER COMING BACK!"

All the while, I'm on one side of the car, trying to do exactly that and I can feel myself shutting down. All I can say is, "What are you talking about?!" She's on the other, grabbing what she could of the stuff I bought and was throwing as hard as she could down the driveway. Still screeching how horrible I am and she ain't ever puttin' with it ever again to the whole wide world. Then she sat in my driveway for at least twenty minutes and I spent the next two hours waiting for the cops I was sure would come. I just didn't know what they would be told - that I tried to murder her, I assaulted her or we were simply disturbing the peace and I was worse than the armpit of Satan. I was honestly surprised when no one showed up.

Now, despite everything, I can't help feeling overwhelmingly relieved. It's over.

I have to say though...in a bizarre way, all that screeching was pretty incredible considering the cold she had. I bet there'll be stories for years to come: "It was a cold January night when the Banshee started screaming, all the way from hell..."

Throwing fits

2007-12-18T15:07:00.000-06:00

There are a few paintings that have given me absolute fits lately. Here’s the 4’x2’ King of the Fits:

I don’t know exactly why this thing is giving me such fits. I like the corner those two donuts are in on the left. I also like the pool of glaze on the right. Excuse that big blob of ochre on the right and that thing in the bottom center – I was trying to get something going.

Those were some great donuts though.

Another painting that gave me fits is Instant Ancestor#1:

I think I’ve got what I need to finish it now. Part of my problem with this painting was its cuteness. It’s almost too cute. So yesterday, while I was raking leaves for the garden, part of her story came to me.

“Her ‘pet’ (it can’t be pronounced by our tongue) is the reigning Grand Champion as well as currently standing at number one in its class. He has killed 243 of its competitors, surpassing his Grand Champion dam, who could only claim 130.”

Now, this isn’t at all like dog fighting. Nope, not at all. It is more like ~~Westminster~~...well, okay – Westmonster. She’s so proud, isn’t she?

(Which reminds me: I should clean the story off the front door where I wrote it on the glass with a china pencil, although it would be interesting to see the faces of people who come up…)

Here are a few more ideas for Instant Ancestors:

Yes, beside the “normal” guy, it says “The black sheep – we don’t talk about him.”

One more:

I played with the anatomy of this satyr (well, that sounds wrong.) I like the idea of the horns and the tail but it makes more sense to me to use the front legs of a goat. They are a little more analogous to the legs of a human. I don’t know but I like this guy.

Here’s a doodle of Bast on part of a 3”x5” card. I keep trying to end our little cat fight.

I couldn’t pass this one up. I don’t know exactly how I’m going to use it but what imagery. You should be able to read it by clicking on the picture.

…and one more. I read a story a while back that had a crow who just happened to also be a parson. I’m still playing with it but here are a few things so far:

Yes, that is a comic book. You can’t expect a Trickster like Crow to actually pay attention during a ceremony, can you? I don’t know about the girl yet. I think I’ll work on her a bit – or get rid of her entirely. Who knows?

Names

2007-12-18T14:47:00.000-06:00

I’ve been playing with the idea of changing the name of my studio. I’ve been calling it Black Horse Studio in my head since I was in my teens. Yes, there were reasons behind it but I won’t bore you with them. Let’s just say the name has done its job and I want to retire it with honor.

Off on a tangent for a second… there is the #1 Chinese restaurant in Gallatin (yep, that’s its name) that has all these neon animals in the window. There’s a cow, chicken, pig and best of all - a shrimp. I love that thing. The Neon Shrimp would be a great name. For what, I don’t know.

Anyway, I’ve been playing. I don’t know if I’ve found quite the right thing yet. Here’s the first idea I had (and favorite):

Not too far away, there is a little spot in the road that used to be a thriving little town in the late 1800’s. It had a general store, post office and school. It struck me as ridiculously pompous and fun that I could be, instead of a studio, a one person art society in a town that doesn’t exist anymore except on some maps. Of course, I had to pay homage to Calico Jack, Anne Bonny and Mary Read too.

However, after dealing with one particular crazy making person (who also inspired a painting,) I thought it may be better to go with a little burro as a mascot and change the words around a bit. This guy is a little too horse-like but you get the idea. The motto could be “Sometimes, at the end of the day and despite your best efforts, you’re still just an ass.”

Speaking of that painting, here it is:

I call this my therapy painting. This was pretty much how I was feeling. I had a brand new wooden pencil when I started writing on the canvas. I covered that sucker and had just a little stub left when I was finished. Don’t believe me? Here it is:

I love the way this painting worked for me. I started out pissed as hell and ended up musing where we would be if someone didn’t have the curiosity to ask “What if we put cheese in a spray can?” and how I could make tens of dollars.

Hello? Is anybody here? Hello?

2007-12-18T14:39:00.000-06:00

:::sigh::: I knew it's been a while since the last post but sheesh....How about we put this in the "another damn thing for Azra to get over" file and continue on? Perhaps the new year should focus on being a little less isolationist and neurotic? Well…isolationist anyway. May as well be realistic.

So, my poor neglected friends – how are you? Doing okay? Putting exes and other enemies to shame by living well? I hope so. I missed you.

There was a bit of time while I was gone that I began to call “Let’s Get Azra Culturfied.” I went to the Tennessee State Pow Wow at Longhunter State Park and the Don Yahola Memorial Pow Wow in Mount Juliet. I almost got to a third pow wow, only about fifteen minutes from my house – only to find it cancelled and the dance grounds covered with new strawberry plants. (Apparently they’ve given up everything “native”- the pow wow, the sweats. Sad thing too – that was one of the best pow wows around.) We ended up going to the Mennonite community and Shaker Museum instead. MMM…..fresh molasses. MMMM…tomato cheese bread.

Oh yeah…and then there was Samhain. I thought it appropriate to spend it with a bunch of mostly dead artists. Free day at the Frist is a wonderful thing. There is also a great little used bookstore across the street in Cummins Station. I could spend days in there.

Well…I’m done boring everyone. Let’s get to some art, hmm?

Things you need to clean a palette, especially if it's long overdue

2007-09-08T13:24:00.000-05:00

Razor blade to scrape the dry paint off

Container to put the scrapings in

Towels to clean the blade, palette, your hands and whatever else. Those scrapings can fly.

Mineral spirits to also help clean the blade, palette, hands and whatever else

Something stiff. Jack works well. Vodka too, probably.

A ~~good~~ excellent vocabulary. A sailor's is a good starting point.

Done In

2007-09-07T02:01:00.000-05:00

Geez - has it really been that long since I last posted on this thing? I've really got to stop letting time get away from me like that.

What's been going on? Let's see:

On the home front, there has been a bit on an invasion - at least as far as the reformed Sea of Felinity is concerned. One of the neighbors has acquired two half grown, stupid but probably likable ~~doofuses(doofusii?)~~ puppies. They look like hunting dogs. I can count on them showing up a little after four in the afternoon and trying to clean out the bowls of day old cat food. However...

I didn't even know they were around until I heard one of them yelp the other day. Apparently, they got a little too friendly with the new cat. When I walked out the door, all I heard was her growling and the one of the puppies barking at her - from fifteen feet away.

Okay, I'll admit it right now. I was almost done in by these two. After watching the Standoff At The Front Porch for a minute or two, I decided it was time for the doofuses to go home. So I tried to use the Dog Voice.

They stood there and looked at me. I guess the lack of brains granted them some sort of immunity. One of them even got down on his belly right at my feet, like he was saying, "Oh come on, you know you won't hurt me. I'm very cute and likable."

Damn. By now, I was getting irked because they were going to make me get downright domestic. I got out the broom and swiped it at them a few times. The doofuses looked at me and weren't fazed in the least. You could just hear them thinking, "Oh yeah, you're badass all right." I swear one of them rolled his eyes.

There was a plastic two gallon watering can near the remains of my tomato plants and I had the bright idea to hit it with the broom. You know, to convince these two of my badass-ocity(? -ness? -icity?) So I hit it a few times, trying to show I meant business. Bam! Bam! BamBamBam!

That's when the absurdity of the situation hit me. Here I was, wailin' on this watering can with two half grown and now fully confused dogs staring at me.

Oh yeah, it's hard to be badass when you're giggling your head off.

Doors

2007-08-21T00:44:00.000-05:00

"There is always in childhood one moment when a door opens and lets in the future." (Graham Greene. Posted as a prompt on personalwriting@yahoogroups.com)

My first response to this quote was, "Just one?" I just can't wrap my head around the idea of there being one door leading the way to one sole path in life which leads to one destination. (Tangent: just how would a person wrap their head around something? Like a towel? A scarf? A big, warm blanket? A flour tortilla?)

Life itself makes it impossible to have just one door. In folklore and mythology, doors are important places. They are thresholds, boundaries and the "in between." The boundary between the everyday world and Faery. The boundary between waking and dreams. The boundaries between youth and adolescence as well as between adolescence and adulthood (whatever that is.)

Ordinary, everyday decisions can be doors and it could be said we're constantly teetering in the "in between." Thought of in this way, "what if?" becomes a far more potent and dangerous question.

The Unknown Dervish

2007-08-16T15:23:00.000-05:00

I am Al-Kahira, the comparer of nonsense and flowers.

2007-08-16T14:52:00.000-05:00

I've put off posting about the tomato fest for a few days. I think I just needed to process a few things. It was a great experience, for the most part. There were quite a few neat booths - tie dyes, jewelry, monoprints, handmade dog treats - and not enough money. Of course, I liked this booth, hidden back in the corner behind the hotdog stand. I love those Poe t-shirts and I'm keeping an eye out for the handmade Ouija board. I just love that idea.

As for the "small part"...I had great success with the show. I heard people saying great things about my work - especially the puzzle - as I looked at the other entries. Both my paintings sold.

And there's the crux of the problem. (_insert embarrassed chuckle here_) This is exactly what I want. So...why does it scare the hell out of me?

It's not the first time I've ever sold paintings - it's not even the most money I've ever made from a sale. Is it because it was a spur of the moment thing to enter? Is it because it is the first time my work's been in a gallery? Is it because I'm just weird?

I don't know.

I just know this: I'm usually okay when it comes to my art. I know I have chops. I'm happy when my work leaves the next and flies away to make a life for itself in a new place. Lately, I've been having a low grade - or in the case of last Saturday, not so low grade - Birdcage like freak outs ("...You do Martha Graham, Martha Graham, Martha Graham!...Or Madonna, Madonna, Madonna!...but you keep it all inside.")

Okay. Enough, Azra. Consider yourself slapped upside the head. Time to get back to ~~work~~ play.

At the brink of spontaneous combustion

2007-08-09T01:03:00.000-05:00

At 3 pm, it was 101 in the shade. The news reported since there hasn't been any rain, the air quality in and around Nashville is now worse than Los Angeles.

I think I know what it's like to be a morsel that's been overcooked in the microwave.

Just one or two non-tomato related sketches...

2007-08-07T23:17:00.000-05:00

Sorry again for the quality. I tried getting better photos but...meh. Just click on them for a little more detail.

Excuse the dirt on this one - it came to me just as I finished transplanting my Bertgarten sage and I forgot to wash up first. lol

The other Tomato fest entry as well as the good, the bad and the "eh?"

2007-08-07T22:06:00.000-05:00

This is one of the smallest paintings I've ever done. It's 6 and 5/7ths(-ish) by five and 7/8ths(-ish) on Masonite.

I didn't get the wolf peach idea finished enough to enter. Someone told me I should have entered it anyway but 1.) the edges were way too messy for my liking and 2.) I don't think I could sell it. I'm just inordinately proub (proud, even) of my first effort of painting hands.

Here is the original sketch and painting:

Sorry about the quality of the sketch. If you click on it, you can see a bit more detail on all the leaves and vines down the left side. The painting is an odd size (I can't remember the reasoning behind it) 8"x12", I think, on Masonite.

Here's some ideas that didn't quite make it:

That's supposed to be a cuttlefish or perhaps a nautilus in the upper left corner. I really like that snail.

My mom suggested I paint some tomatoes just hanging on the vine. After thirty seven years, you would think she'd know me by now.

The Tomatoes of Good and Evil

You have to say it like that guy from the Princess Bride: "The Squash of Despaairrr."

Ah...the memories.

2007-08-07T21:33:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, we went to Cumberland Presbyterian Church, just outside of Hartsville, TN. It's not quite, as a woman from Queens NY once told me, "out there where even Jesus doesn't wear shoes." (It sounded great in Italian.)

I don't remember much about the actual lessons. I do remember my Sunday School instructor was a lesbian who had gorgeous long brown hair and dressed like my father. I was the youngest in my class (I don't know - seven? Eight?) and at least one lesson hour focused on horror movies about ginormous spiders and chainsaws that I wished I could see even though I was terrified by what I was hearing.

Wait. That could explain a lot about me, huh?

Anyway, I probably would have remembered the actual lessons if they were more like this.

Could this be?

2007-08-07T21:22:00.000-05:00

YES!!!!

For some reason (let's not ask why), Azra was allowed to bring another computer into her home. I promise to try to mend my :::coughcoughmurderousharddrivekillingcoughcough::: ways.

Tangible Proof I'm Not an Artist Wannabe Poser

2007-08-02T14:05:00.000-05:00

I feel good today. My paintings are in their new, temporary home at the gallery. I ended up turning in just two: the 'jester' and another where the tomato is a half finished puzzle.

I had a lot of craziness going on in my head as I walked in. I was sure I was going to be singled out as soon as I walked through that door as the Artist Wannabe Poser. Never mind the fact I made it through the selection process for this show. Never mind all the great comments left on this blog about my work. I kept hearing Ms. Mulcahy (one of my instructors from college) in my head, "Look at all that rubbery brushwork!" Then I saw some of the other entries.

My paintings were as good as any- and everything in that room. I got several great comments - one woman has already said she may just have to buy them. My work belongs in that show.

So yeah. I feel really good today.

It's all over now...

2007-07-26T12:56:00.001-05:00

I'll admit it. I read Harry Potter. I had my copy of the Deathly Hallows on pre-order for months.

I had finished it Sunday night and started it all over again the next day. All I can say is this: Wow. I won't give any spoilers, in case anyone hasn't read it yet, but I will say that I was absolutely shocked at that big, wet smacker that Harry laid on Ron...poor Hermione, left out in the cold...I wasn't expecting that at all.

What? Oh....oops. ;-)

This once a week stuff just doesn't cut it...

2007-07-19T12:43:00.000-05:00

I still don't have a computer at home. I think if I hear the phrase, "I'll try to have it for you this weekend" again, I'll scream. Yeah...scream...

The frenzy has begun. I've been working like crazy, trying to get as many paintings finished as I can. I'm allowed three in the show but I like (the idea of) having my pick.

Damn it! I want to post photos! I've also been wanting to play with sound files but I haven't checked into whether Blogger will let me upload them, other than mobile entries....consider yourself lucky. You're not being subjected to the high soprano wailings of a with delusions of melodiousness.

What was I saying? Oh yeah. (See? This once a week stuff reduces me to rambling.) I have two paintings at the moment that are...let's say "pushing me out of the comfort zone." One is based on a something I read about German folklore saying witches planted mandrake and nightshade in the garden to draw werewolves. It's quite a bit more complicated than what I'm used to doing. Another one started out as an extreme closeup of a slice of lime but is morphing into something abstract. I only hope I have the chops to pull them both off. I'm afraid I may not. It's scaring the hell out of me but I'm painting anyway.

Ack! Five minutes left. Just enough time to check for misspellings...

Have a good one, y'all.

A bit of an update - and a happy Snoopy Dance

2007-07-12T14:06:00.000-05:00

(Or maybe a Kermit Dance. Kermit's wild and flailing arms and head seem to fit the mood better than Snoopy's bopping. Ah hell - I'll do both!)

I'm having to get used to posting without photos. It seems wierd to just type.

News: Yay me! I made it into the Tomato Art Fest!!! I've got two possibilities ready to go - and more than a few ideas for a third. YAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

The other news is rather mundane compared to that: I'm covered up in fresh blackberries and Sweet 100 tomatoes. I'm about to be covered up with Rutgers, Arkansas Traveller and Mr. Stripey tomatoes too. Thanks to Toby, my cat who seems to think he's Don Juan, I have also gained four more housemates: a little black and white female and her three weaning age kittens.

I don't think he knew what he was getting into when he chatted her up.

Oh yeah - according to my computer tech, I am officially a serial killer. His exact words were, "Well, more serial killers go for a very specific thing and you are certainly specific - you go straight for the hard drive!"

Gee, thanks dude. I feel ever so much better.

On the bright side, I may have a computer back this weekend. Maybe.

All right - four minutes of internet time left. Have a good one, y'all.

CBI Alert

2007-06-29T15:34:00.000-05:00

Well, damn. I've apparently killed again. I'm at the library. My computer tech is telling me to get an uninterruptable power source to see if that doesn't fix the problem of killing my computers' hard drives. See y'all soon - again - even if I have to blog from the library!

Authorities Search for Local Woman
Byline: Joannie Snigglebotham, contributing reporter

The Cyber Bureau of Investigations reported today they are looking for a local Middle Tennessee woman, Azra. She is wanted for questioning in the alleged deaths of several computers in the upper Sumner County area in the last few years.

The latest death was reported on June 17, in Ms. Azra's very own home. The victim was said to be fine, only to suddenly revert to a blinking prompt on a blank, black screen. Hours later, the victim was declared to be brain dead. At the time, Ms. Azra claimed to have no knowledge of what happened. She later claimed her computer tech reported a region wide power surge earlier in the week.

Authorities urge all Compu-Americans in the area to be on the lookout for Ms. Azra. If you have any information on the whereabouts of Ms. Azra, please call your local CBI office. Do not attempt to apprehend her yourself. She may be armed and dangerous.

Can you break what's probably(?!) already broken?

2007-06-12T03:08:00.000-05:00

It's been two days since it started and I've been good. Extremely good. I think it's about to break my brain. I haven't made any jokes. I haven't made any wise assed remarks (aloud, anyway.) I haven't done anything, although it was harder than I ever thought possible not to be completely (childish? Impish? stupid? me? _insert your own word here_,) go grab my copies of Projekt:Gothic and Projekt Presents:A Dark Cabaret and play Voltaire's "When You're Evil" and Jill Tracy's "Evil Night Together" just loud enough to float to the far edge of the cemetery where the tent is set up.

Then again, it just might spoil some of the already bizarre fun.

The church folks are having Vacation Bible School. The theme is "Soldiering for Christ," or so the sign says, and it's complete with a big ol' olive green tent. This afternoon, they even woke the entire neighborhood up by playing a very loud recording of Reveille which segued into an ultra twangy (twenty one?) banjo (salute?) bluegrass number.

I can't make anything like this up. And to think, the "Cruisin' with Christ" car show was just a week or two ago in Westmoreland.

Today's offerings

2007-06-06T00:02:00.000-05:00

I can't believe I forgot to post this the other day. I painted it in honor of my friend Connie having some work accepted into last year's Tomato Art Fest. It was the first time I'd tried to paint a tomato - I didn't quite get there, but I think it has possibilities.

Okay, I'll admit it. The idea for this came from both a painting Zezrie posted and looking at the photos from David Nykl's new movie. I got to thinking. (I know, I know...dangerous territory there.) I've got a hat and a backpack that are some of my most favorite things in the world - why haven't I ever drawn or painted them?
So this is a rough sketch I did for composition. My hat, my backpack and the old, beat up chair I can be usually be found in when I'm being a bum - or an artist, for that matter. I'm going to be painting this one pretty soon.

Sorry for the quality on this one. I tried to get a good photo but it just didn't want to cooperate. This was a "It's late in the day, I'm hungry and out of tea" sketch. This mug is one of three or four of my favorites. It's orange and I think I paid twenty five cents for it at a yard sale last summer. The mouth looks a little off to me but hey, like I said: It was late, I was hungry and I was out of tea. That's enough to make anyone not sketch right.

Safari time

2007-06-05T23:40:00.000-05:00

"That I speak here of art as a Way, gives away that I see the way of the artist as a kind of pilgrimage. When you go on a pilgrimage, you set out from where you happen to be and start walking toward a place of great sanctity in the hope of returning from it renewed, enriched and sanctified.

However far you may walk, every pilgrimage is a safari into your own dark interior, an inner journey."

- Frederick Franck,
Art as a Way, p. 21
1981

There are certain courses I sometimes wish I never taken in college. Philosophy was one and oddly, World Civ. Don't get me wrong. They were excellent classes with excellent instructors. No, these classes challenged everything I believed to the point of severe doubt.

A lot of philosophers seem to think the only way to go is through our own minds and reason. We learned early on in World Civ how man first saw god as the raw elements: wind, storms, lightening, etc. Later, as man became hunters, the gods were seen in the animals. Once man began living in settlements, god was in man's own image. It made me wonder if the whole thing wasn't just all in our heads.

Once my beliefs were gone, I felt empty. Worse, suddenly the entire universe did as well. For example, trees weren't these wonderful, vibrant beings anymore. They were...well, just plants that provided shade and wood. It was a miserable place.

I had an interesting day today. It was supposed to be a clear, sunny day with no chance of rain. I got everything set just right and sat down to work on the composition for a possible painting when I heard the thunder. Rain was a comin'. I was half joking when I said, "Ooo...looks like Set's not happy with me for posting those sketches. Am I going to have to make an apology? How about some rum? Would that do it?"

The strange thing is the wind picked up, the clouds moved off to the north (Set is said to live in the Northern sky, in one of the stars that form Ursa Major - the Great Bear) and there was sunshine again. I got the rum, took a sip and it burned all the way down to my belly. Set got about three fingers' worth. The Doors were in the CD player so Jim Morrison got a hit of rum too.

The sun stayed out until I started packing up around five thirty or so.

So, was it all a coincidence? You know, I've decided I really don't care. This is my safari and I choose to live in a wonderfully, vibrantly responsive universe where there are gods who are mollified with rum, trees have as much - if not more - personality than a lot of people I know and there are things undreamt that I haven't discovered yet.

I aim to play. I may even misbehave. Ah hell, who am I kidding? Me and misbehavin' go together like chocolate and peanut butter.

Just to prove I’ve actually done something lately…

2007-06-04T00:00:00.000-05:00

So, I’ve done a painting of Khnum and worked on a painting of Bast (it still has a few problems but it’s getting there. Veeeeerrrrryyyyyy slowly. She and I evidently have issues.) Now I want to do one of Set. So, I sat down and tried a few different “poses” and they all sucked. In sheer frustration, I did “Mona Set” and “Set on a Tea Break.”

Strange thing – once these were done, my eyes burned for the rest of the day. That was just my sunblock running into my eyes, right?

Right? :::_insert chirping crickets here_:::

I also decided it’s time to get back to drawing hoomans again and I couldn’t wait to post this one, even though it’s not finished. I didn’t know just how out of practice I would be, so I decided to start with someone without a preconceived appearance. He is a character from a popular series of books. Click on it for a better view.

So- who do you think it is?

I don’t know where – if anywhere – this idea is going. It all started with this sculpture. (Scroll down a hair to see it.)

(To quote Austin Powers: “Blimey! Nerd Alert!”)
So I got to thinking: if the dinos didn’t go extinct, what kind of “civilization” would they have? Would it be tribal? Would they have shamans or priests? Would they even have a spiritual way – including sacred numbers and things like that? Would those numbers be dependent on how many “fingers” the dino had (Tyrannids with two, troodon with three, etc.)?

I started playing with markings, sort of like Plains Indians used. The blurry things under the upper dino’s head are actual markings used on horses.

I want to play with “local” dinos, so these two are all wrong. These are T-Rexes, found west of the sea that was here way back when. We had Albertosaurs.

(/end nerd alert)

Oh yeah - the thing in the right hand corner is supposed to be a jumping spider but it didn’t like sitting for its portrait.

This is a result of an idle thought while I played with my dinos: I know what they look like in the movies but what would be like if they were standing right in front of me? This came from that night’s dream. These little guys scattered as soon as they realized I was looking at them.

I am so going to paint this once I get their faces to look right.

Right. I think that’s enough posting for tonight. 'Night, y'all.

Storytime

2007-06-03T22:33:00.000-05:00

This untitled thing still needs to be tinkered with a bit (oh yeah, I have delusions of grammar all right) but I wanted to post it anyway.
___________________________________________________

That is one ugly saucer, Margaret thought as she picked up the old piece of pottery from the table. As saucers go, it wasn’t even really, well, round. As she turned it over in her hands, she could see it was only about six inches across at the widest part of the rim and about and inch and a half deep. Its plain brown clay surface was slightly pitted in places, except where it fit snugly in her hands. There, the surface was worn smooth from years of handling.

Margaret carried her find to the cash box. She hoped the people were willing to let the thing go for cheap.

“I’ll give you a nickel for this.”

That afternoon, the saucer was in its new place on the floor next to a blue, fish shaped bowl filled with kibble. Buttons, Margaret’s seventeen year old white Persian, didn’t seem to care how ugly the thing was as long as it was full of water.

In the weeks that followed, Buttons began acting like a much younger feline. Her once thick fur filled out again and her gold eyes sparkled. She became death on four paws to the dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. One morning, Margaret even caught her chasing butterflies out in the garden. Buttons had jumped two feet in the air after a particularly huge swallowtail and the dear old thing hadn’t been able to do that in years.

As she watched the acrobatics in the garden, Margaret wondered what had gotten into the old cat. She hadn’t changed Buttons’ food or introduced any new vitamins. Nothing, as far as she could figure, was any different. More than once, she caught herself wishing she could have a little bit of it of whatever it was.

And that is how the Grail, when its last protector died at the age of a hundred and fourteen, came to reside at 1475 Anderson Way.

Hmmm…look at all these cobwebs.

2007-06-03T22:14:00.000-05:00

Wow. Has it really been Thanksgiving since I made the last post? Geez. I’m sorry y’all. I didn’t mean to abandon everyone.

Let me play catch-up. March rolled around again and Emo!Azra tried to make another appearance. (What is it about the third week of March that just makes me want to hide under a rock, cry and mourn something I’ve never had?) Anyway, this year I was on to her and there was no month long reign of melodrama and angst. Emo!Azra was sent to ~~the cellar~~ a home away from home and ~~chained, damn it~~ given a nice, peaceful rest.

Art wise? Until recently, it could be summed up with one sound: pppphhhhhttttt! You want an actual word? Poncif. I’ll show you the ones that barely made the cut, in my opinion anyway. Sorry for the quality of some of the photos. I don’t have all my graphics programs back yet.

These two don’t even look finished to me. The bottom one’s a little more complete. Still, it was fun to paint the shadows of the cup and someone liked them. I don’t know why.

This one ended up being a Christmas present. I like taking vases like this and filling them with the tips of hickory or oak branches. They usually have the most curves and interesting shapes to them, although you can’t tell it by this painting. It needed “something,” so I added the dogwood blossoms. I like how the vase turned out.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all

2006-11-23T14:22:00.000-06:00

Hey! What do you know? I’m making an actual holiday post. Y’all may want to start watching the skies and papers for other signs of the Apocalypse.

This Thanksgiving is different from past years. Usually, we go over to my aunt and uncle’s house to eat and watch the National Dog Show. Today, they’re going over to spend the day with his ninety-something year old mother. I sent them an e-card last night but this morning, I remembered several very young kiddies may see it. It was the gang on Sesame Street, gathered around the table and an absolutely huge roasted bird. Yep – you guessed it, there were two very familiar orange feet attached to it!

I don’t mean to be evil, especially to children. It just kind of gleefully slips out.

I’m spending the day gloriously alone with my cats. At the moment, I’m waiting for a pot of tea to brew and the dog show. I’ve got some chicken, wheat pasta, pesto and onion to mix together for lunch. Pineapple and several pomegranates are for later. (Did you know some folks think they were the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, instead of an apple?) I’ve got Charles deLint’s Moonheart to read, the Doors are in the CD player and the temps are going to being in the 60s. Yes, times are indeed good.

On a side note, I was screamed at this morning. I went out to check my laundry on the line and I startled the resident hawk. He’s been around for a month or so now. I don’t know what species he is but he’s so little compared to some of the red tails I’ve seen. My dad suggested looking up a sharp shinned or Cooper’s hawk.

It’s really starting to look like Azra’s Wild Kingdom around here. Besides the hawk, I’ve got rabbits, bats, two huge squirrels and two does making regular visits. The coyote pack is keeping itself across the road, back where there’s more forest for cover, at least for the time being. I swear I even saw a kestrel the other day.

Well, I’ve got more to ramble about for once but I’ll save it for another post later today. Have a good one, y’all.

Little Bird Thoughts On the Water

2006-11-16T23:29:00.000-06:00

“‘Come to the edge’, he said.
They said, ‘We are afraid’.
‘Come to the edge’, he said.
They came.
He pushed them…
And they flew.” - Guillaume Apollinaire

Neil Gaiman once did a short Sandman comic based on that quote. Just thought I’d mention that.

…and on a completely unrelated note: just now, as I was butchering the Toadies’ “Opossum Kingdom,” instead of singing “…behind the boathouse, I’ll show you my dark secret” I said “behind the goathouse.” That puts a whole different slant on the thing, doesn’t it?

Excuse my rambling tonight. I’m tired of sitting down night after night and staring at a blank screen. I thought maybe I could circle around and get my thoughts out this way. They remind me of a sparrow that flew into the house a while back. It fluttered against a closed upstairs window. Even after I opened the window and took out the screen, the bird fluttered against the glass at the top of the window. Eventually, after it had exhausted itself and its fear, it found its way out when it came down on the sill to rest. Here’s an opening, little birds. Fly. Fly and realize what you can really be.

(Here’s a combination: from the Toadies’ Rubbernecking to Matthew Sweet’s Girlfriend. What’s with this early ‘90’s thing tonight?)

What comes to mind when you hear the word “water”? It’s been in a few of my dreams lately. In one dream, I was standing on the bank of a wide creek. The water was the color of the swimming holes I played in when I was a kid. It was almost exactly the same as a piece of light adventurine. There was an older man here too, named Mountain Ben. He said, “The water has to be deep enough to sustain the fish.” When I walked in, the water was thigh high. When one of those fish (which looked like a cross between a catfish and a large mouth bass) startled me by coming to the top of the water beside my leg, the water suddenly went down to ankle level. The fish were gone. My fear kept the water from being deep enough to sustain the fish.

Another dream comes to mind. It was a few years ago but it stuck with me. I was standing on the high bank of another creek, a shallow one, and I could see something moving beneath the water. Suddenly, a panther burst out of the water and just missed me before it fell back. It was made entirely of water.

Water, as a symbol, represents emotions. In my mind, it also represents spirituality and faith. It is situated in the West but it isn’t blue. It’s that adventurine green.

Speaking of adventurine, I’m working out an idea for another painting. I hope I’ve got the chops to do it justice (more fear talking?) I found an old copy of John Keel’s The MothMan Prophecies (interesting book) and in several of the sighting descriptions; a “bird man” was seen as having a green glow about him. That combined with some thoughts I’ve been having about the fluidity of ideas like “good” and “evil.” So the idea, if I can even describe it, is a dark, winged being. It faces out of the canvas (or board, I haven’t decided yet) and is “removing” its face like a mask. What’s behind the mask is nothing more than a blindingly bright white light.

Wow. I guess those little birds decided to fly after all, huh?

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, life, Personal, Dreams, Art, Painting]

One Reason for the lack of Entries (courtesy of the Ramones)

2006-11-09T01:18:00.000-06:00

I got a lot to say
I got a lot to say
I got a lot to say
I got a lot to say

I don’t remember now
I don’t remember now
I don’t remember now
I don’t remember now

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, life, Personal]

That's okay...really. You can have the bed. I insist.

2006-10-19T02:31:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make. I am terrified of spiders. No, wait. Let me change that: I am terrified of a certain kind of spider. Like the one that tried to lay claim to my futon.

This monster was sitting on a book less than a foot away from my thigh. I was proud of myself - I didn't even yelp. Granted, it was more due to being interested in Lost than my spectacular phobia fighting skills. That was also probably why I tried to knock it off my bed with a 3x5 note card...and discovered that this particular species of spider fights back. That damn spider was determined not to move! It was a heated and pitched battle but in the end, I won.

Or so I thought.

Less than a minute later, the monster was back and it looked as if it was sizing up my worth as a meal for the kiddies. This time, not only did I yelp but I almost jumped off the bed. I caught myself before it could claim victory though. I trapped it in a Sonic cup instead.

It was classic nightmare imagery when I put the white, almost opaque top on that cup. I turned the cup sideways and I could see the lower half of those legs as the spider tried to get out. Beyond that, they just blurred out into a big, grey suggestion of "spider." I could hear those legs too, as they scuttled against the top and sides of the cup.

The lid of a Sonic cup has three rings on it. The inner one, composed of eight (appropriate) domes is surrounded by a solid, raised ring. Then there's a trough and the third ring fits over the lip of the cup itself. The silhouette of the Monster Spider took up a lot of space - at one point, all eight of its legs were spread out and touching the second ring. That's about 2.75 inches across on a medium size cup.

That's one damn big spider for this area. I'll go to bed and halfway expect to be carried off by the damn thing now, even though I released it out in the driveway. It was big enough to watch as it scuttled through the leaves and gravel. In low light. Six and seven feet away.

So much for sleep.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, life]

Odd occurrence #1546285462 (or there abouts)

2006-10-18T22:36:00.000-05:00

I had an interesting sounding message on my machine this afternoon when I came back from the studio. It was my mom. She called to see if we were going out on Friday. Right in the middle of the sentence, she quit talking and there was a dull thud as if she dropped something on the floor. Then I hear "Hello? Hello?"

Things got even more interesting when I called her back. She swears my answering machine talked back to her and cut her off. She said that right in the middle of her message a voice said, "Thank you for calling!" and hung up on her.

There's no other voices on the recording, just hers. I heard a thud when she heard the voice and I heard her say "Hello?" when she heard the dial tone. The only thing, other than the greeting, the machine is supposed to say is "memory full" - and there is still plenty left.

So evidently, I now have a smartass answering machine...or some one/thing decided to liven things up for my mom today. Is that cool or what?

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, life, weird, strange]

Good Stuff

2006-10-18T22:22:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine gave me some new Celtic music: the Brobdingnagian Bards (thank god they have the pronunciation of that on their website!) They do a great version of Whiskey in a Jar. I also love Donald, Where's Your Trousers? and the Jedi Drinking Song. There's more traditional songs as well.

I usually get tired of Celtic music rather quickly. Not this. It's good. Go listen!

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, celtic music]

My fate is sealed

2006-10-09T19:48:00.000-05:00

Oh yes. Yes, it is.

I thought it was fairly certain how I would be when I get older. I'd be that little old eccentric lady on the corner, who lives with fifteen or twenty feline chilluns. Nope. Today, I got a glimpse of who I just may truly be in twenty or thirty years.

Three guys pulled their Jeep SUV into my yard this afternoon. When I heard the engine turn off, I waited a few minutes. You know, so I could ignore them when they knocked on the door. Nothing. I went to the bedroom door and looked into the driveway from the second floor window. Nothing. Now, when I say they parked in my yard, I mean that literally. They parked so far into the yard, I couldn't see the Jeep until I came downstairs and looked out the side window. They had come about twenty feet past the driveway and missed the Bertgarten Sage by about three feet.

If they had come much closer, it may have been a killing offense. They may not look like much but nobody messes with my animals or my plants!

So, out the door I go (_insert George Thorogood guitar licks here_). I get to the corner of the house and these twenty something-ish guys come from out from the backyard. I see three confused smiles on three confused faces. Honestly, I was only thinking, "What fresh hell is this?" but I can only imagine the smile on my face. I think it may have said, "Hi. You can leave or I can kill you. I don't care which."

Here's the conversation that followed:

"Hi. You want to get out of my yard?"

"Somebody told us this place was abandoned, I mean, no one lived here. We were looking at buying it."

"Nope. Sorry. Ciao."

"Oh. Sorry to have bothered you."

"Yep."

Before they could say anything else, I headed back to the door. They pissed me off and I'm not really proud of what I did next. It was petty and childish but I slammed the door behind me. All the while, I thought, "Granted, it isn't Better Homes and Gardens quality, the house could use a good coat of paint and the grass is a little long but abandoned?! Don't people see me going back and forth to the studio all the time? Don't they hear me blasting my music when I'm there? Besides, who the hell puts laundry out on the line of an abandoned house - which they drove by when they nearly murdered the sage?"

That's when it occurred to me that I have just gotten a taste of my possible future if I stay here. No, I'm not going to be the little eccentric cat-lady. I'm going to be like the witch in Big Fish, with the neighborhood kids making up scary stories about mean old me and all my evil exploits. "They say if she sees you, you're going to turn into a zombie! Then she buries you in that cemetery until she needs zombie parts for her evil spells - or worse, paint for her evil paintings! Oh, and her cats? They're the size of tigers and they will EAT you!"

Imagine it - me. Possibly a future urban legend. There's only one thing I can say to that. Cool beans.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, Life]

Ah, Technology. Ain't it grand?

2006-10-05T22:42:00.000-05:00

Hello? Is anyone still out there? Anyone?

Ye gods, I missed blogging. My computer died. Again. Slowly. One bit of hardware at a time. A monitor here, a year old hard drive there. I think lightning may have been involved but I'm not sure. I guess we'll see what the official diagnosis will be. My computer tech is pretty much family - which means while the work is free, it's done in between and after the payin' folks. It may be a while before I know anything, especially if I lost a year's worth of photos and various kinds of research. Of course, I was going to back everything up...next week.

Oh god - all that research. It literally hurts to think I've possibly lost so much information. Kitsune and other fox spirits. Chaos magick. The Egyptian mythos. The Cthulhu mythos. Epona. Cernunnos. Articles on Psi. Coyote. Nalbinding. Period clothing. Anne Bonney. Mary Read.

So in tribute, let's just go ahead and say I've thrown myself on the ground and pitched the biggest, most melodramatic fit the 'net has ever seen. Let's throw it all in: the wailing, stomping, kicking and screaming. Of course, the whole melodramatic effect is spoiled when I start laughing. I mean, honestly. How could we not in the face of such great silliness?

In the meantime, I finally have this nifty little temp computer. Hopefully, I'll get a setup for downloading photos from my camera next. I've got a few more things to post, although I don't know if they're quite up to to snuff. I don't know if anyone else goes through something like this or not but August seems to be my Month Of the Crap Paintings. Everything I know about painting just seems to go right out of my head and on vacation to cooler climates like so many geese. Now that October is here, maybe they'll migrate back where they belong.

I'll be around various blogs to see some folks in the next day or so. Tonight, if you don't mind, I'm just going to see what I've missed on Indra's Cyberweb.

Technorati tags: daily-life, life, Personal

Just venting some goofiness

2006-06-07T21:34:00.000-05:00

Man, I'm lovin' these new (to me) water soluble graphite pencils.

99.9995% Finished

2006-06-07T21:28:00.000-05:00

I should know better. I really should. Never say when a painting will be finished because more than likely - it won't. All it really needs now brighten up two or three of the orange spots on the right wing and perhaps even up the blue. In any case, here it is now:

11"x14" on canvas

Finally!

2006-06-02T22:47:00.000-05:00

Well, I decided that I wouldn't post again until I had something at least half way decent to show for it. So, here is a nearly finished study of a Spicebush Swallowtail. This is the underside of the wings. Hopefully, I'll be able to finish it either tomorrow morning before my dad and I go to the powwow or Sunday. I've got to add a few more spots, lay some orange in the spots along the bottom of the wing, as well as add some more blue and green just above them. I wish I had turned the canvas on its side though. I think it would be a stronger painting if it were centered more and the shadows allowed to fade out along the bottom. I'm not complaining too much though. I like the way the butterfly itself is turning out.

It's funny, in a "the universe seems to be listening and it's kind of freaky" kind of way. I hadn't said anything about my idea for the Butterfly Woman painting to my mom. Not long after I made this post, she gave me the butterfly. It had trapped itself in her car and died near the back windshield. It's wings were exactly the style I envision for the painting - I just didn't know how I was going to go about painting them.

I've kept the butterfly in the studio, on a table by the easel. I'll admit to looking at it, as if halfway expecting it to get up from the table and fly away at any moment. All this time and I'm still not always comfortable when I get help like that.

So what now, 'Verse? What are you going to send me when I get ready to do that honorary sculpture of Lu Yu, huh?

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, art, sketches,sketch, painting, oil painting]

I so rock! Yes. Yes, I do.

2006-05-29T20:21:00.000-05:00

Oh good god. Has it really been fourteen days since the last post? What, Azra? You have three paintings, an mixed media and two graphite drawing going but no new art to post? Bad Azra! Bad, bad!

I do, at least, have some good news to report: I have my diploma in my hands. I am now officially a college graduate - first in the family. Not only that but I graduated Magna Cum Laude. If it weren't for those two C's (damn that College Math!) I would have graduated Summa but hey...

I so rock!

It's hard to imagine now - when I first went back, I was almost terrified of not finishing again. I kept watching for those familiar signs of burnout. It didn't happen. Not only that, I ended up graduating with enough credits for two and a half degrees. Granted, those credits were kind all over the place. Part of that was because my previous credits in Photography ended up not counting as anything but electives. The other part was I kept saying, "Hmmm...I wonder what this class would be like?"

So the question now is this: do I go on and get a bachelor's or a master's in art? Do I do as someone suggested ages ago and just "take the hell out of a bunch of workshops"? Ah hell, I don't know. I think I'll bask in this for a little while first.

Yeah...basking sounds good.

I so rock!

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, Life]

A small, harmless tale

2006-05-15T17:11:00.000-05:00

This came to mind as I began working out a sketch for another possible painting today. I like working out stories to go with these paintings - I need to do more of them. (Besides, I have to offset the dense estrogen infusion of the last two entries!)
__________________________________________________

He stood in the vastness of space. It took a bit of getting used to. The type of space he had wandered through the eons was populated by dying stars and food for Those he served. This space was different. Quasars pulsed, carrying information across the cosmos. Small suns collided into each other and coalesced into galaxies of ones and zeros. Most of the information was useless - food looking to procreate. Food looking for ways to prepare their own food. Food looking to reach out and enliven their pitiful little lives.

If that's what they wanted, then who was he to deny them? His tentacles adapted themselves easily to this new kind of space, reaching out and finding the information he needed and re-weaving it into something else. When he finished, he had a large portal that would be impossible for the food to miss, let alone resist. Little did they know every time they used the portal, it would bring Those he served a little closer to the physical realm.

As he looked at his work, he decided this space was infinitely more interesting than the ones he was used to walking. Nyarlathotep smiled and said, "Yes, food. Come forth and google."

[Technorati tags: Nyarlathotep, Cthulhu Mythos, Storytelling, Diary, writing, Writing and poetry]

Catharsis

2006-05-13T15:43:00.000-05:00

I'm not entirely happy with the way this turned out. The big black shape on the right wasn't balanced out as much I hoped it would be on the left. But that's okay. I knew as I worked, this piece was cathartic but apparently I put more into it than I thought. I almost lost it several times as I tried to char the edges. I'd put out the flames, only to see them flare back up again a few seconds later. I may just go ahead, finish the job and scatter the ashes.

The text:
That day in Kentucky still stands
out in my mind
You
Reaching out to touch my necklace
Your salt and pepper hair
Such amazing eyes

I'm such an idiot.
I didn't want to admit
you made such an im-
pression on me.

It's been 2 years
since I came home
to Tennessee
Sometimes
I stand in my studio
and wonder where
you are. I call
out to you, even
thought I don't
even know your name.

I wonder if
you even remember
me.

Still, I need you to
know, love -
I wish I could have another
chance
But today,
I'm letting your memory go.
I hope you have a life that
transcends your wildest
dreams.

...and maybe, just maybe,
we'll run into each other
again. If we do, the
first thing I'll do is get
your name.

[Technorati tags: art, sketches,sketch, pen, Life, Daily Life, Diary]

And now...a girly "SQUEE!!!" moment.

2006-05-08T12:48:00.000-05:00

We are now returning to regular programming. Carry on.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, life]

Embryos, tentacles and the Butterfly Woman of Doom

2006-05-03T00:19:00.000-05:00

I've got a few new ideas for paintings floating around in my head:

I was musing one day (Oh all right - I was off tripping through a pleasant daydream. You happy now?) and I saw this image in my mind. It's a pleasant enough landscape, complete with critters grazing in the field except...instead of ordinary cows, there are these creatures with three or four trunks/tentacles. They use trunks/tentacles to pull the grass and put it in their mouths.

(I love the idea of tentacles...:::_insert maniacal laughter here_:::)

I'm not happy with these critters yet. One looks too much like an elephant and the other is still too bovine. I guess we'll see what comes out of it.

This one may be one of the next paintings I do. I was walking by the cherry tree and saw that it already has some fruit growing on it. It was a classic "what if" moment: what if, instead of this cherry, it were actually a critter growing in there? I combined properties of two different trees - I like the spent blooms of the cherry and the pollen of the pig hickory. The fruit itself needs to be translucent, with the embryo a little more...well, embryonic and indefinable. Yeah...I like that.

The last idea is still pretty vague but I can't get it out of my mind. It's a Butterfly Woman type being, with a dark twist.

Darkness looms on the horizon.
A storm approaches.
Lightning flashes.
I dance into the chaos.
A butterfly tossed about on the wind.

That's all I have of that at the moment. The image I see is a woman not one being tossed around, though. She is one who knows exactly what she's doing there. She may even have a mischievous smirk on her face - is she a Trickster? I don't know. Instead of the bright rainbow colors usually associated with Butterfly Woman, I see dark storm colors: grays, silvers, blues, violets. Heh. Sounds like somebody definitely worth knowing.

We won't talk about the tangent going on in my head right now involving butterflies and music reminiscent of 1950's era horror movies. Oh no we won't.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, art, sketches,sketch, sketch book]

Let's get this thing going again

2006-05-03T00:12:00.000-05:00

It's funny. On the twenty eighth, I started thinking how great it would be to get back to blogging. I couldn't wait to get back to the keyboard! Then the day finally arrived and I sat down to write...

Nothing. Nada. I was once again a living personification of that Far Side cartoon "Full Moon and Empty Head." As many times as that's happened, it's a wonder I haven't achieved Enlightenment several times over.

These last few weeks have been...Interesting, to say the least. I still don't have any idea, other than maybe a bigger than usual batch of hormones, of what brought on that particularly nasty little attack. I didn't tell anyone - except oh, the entire world through this blog - what was going on until one absolutely scary day.

Now, most of the time, death doesn't scare me. I live next to a cemetery. I collect bones I find in the woods. One of my favorite knick knacks is a little statue of a mischievous Reaper but I am in absolutely no hurry to see what's on the other side of the veil.

I was alone at home when I caught myself seriously thinking that death just might be a welcome relief, if only as means of ending the overwhelming pain I was in. The thought was there for only a few seconds but it was enough. After I pulled myself together as much as I could, I started making phone calls and sending e-mails, in the hopes of both not being alone any more than I had to be and having someone to bounce ideas off of. I never told them how bad it actually got but I think they figured it out. I don't usually marshall the forces like that. I get over it and go on.

As one person said, after I told her part of what had been going on with me, "It's like sumthen evil got aholt of you!" Truth be told, it's hard to argue with that assessment.

But enough about that. It's over and if I have to go through that again, it will be entirely too soon. So, in the spirit of going on, let's unfurl the Jolly Roger, wreak as much artful and surreal havoc as we can and take no prisoners. Come on, it'll be fun.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary]

Blog hiatus

2006-04-18T09:18:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to give a bit of warning that I'm not going to be posting here for a few more weeks. I'm taking a break from the blogosphere until Beltane (May 1.) I want to get back to being my usual, strange self, plus I refuse to clutter up this blog with super angsty dreck that I'd later regret posting due to sheer embarrassment.

In the last few weeks, I tipped over into a full flown, hormone fueled bout of depression. The tail end of it was especially nasty. For whatever reason, things would get progressively worse until about 2 p.m. and not matter what, I would absolutely fall apart. By night time, I would feel like myself again. Thank Whoever and Everyone Involved that it's getting better now.

It's been over thirteen years since I've gone through a bout of this and it wasn't anywhere near this bad. Granted, the last time was brought on by the situation - one of those "Ajax" moments where quite a lot of crap got cleaned out of my life in one fell swoop. This time, I don't know what brought it on. I just know it left me pining, for lack of a better word, as if I had lost something precious like a child. Yeah - it felt exactly like grieving, including that mile wide empty hole in my chest. What was I grieving? Myself? My life? Something else entirely? Ah, maybe. I don't know. I just don't know. I just know to keep moving, keep working and keep fighting.

So that's it. Let me buck tradition here for once and say an early "Happy Beltane!" to those who celebrate it. I'll see you in a few weeks.

What a day for Sumner County

2006-04-08T14:40:00.000-05:00

I was going to write about how my day went yesterday (from "middling" to "shot straight to hell") but that just doesn't matter anymore. In reality, the worst I experienced was being sent to the basement of the Allen County library because the tornado siren went off. While we were down there, someone mentioned that Gallatin had been hit but I didn't think much about it. In that situation, rumors fly through the air like excited little birds. Even after I got home, nothing was out of place - as if it were nothing more than a spring shower - but fifteen miles to the south, the folks in Gallatin and beyond had a much, much worse day.

(~~Rant~~ Note to USA Today: Gallatin is not a suburb of Nashville. It is a city in its own right and the seat of Sumner County. Tennessee is not composed of just three major cities - Memphis, Nashville and Knoxville - and their "suburbs." Good. God. Where's your fact checker? ~~/rant~~)

Channel 5's video of the destruction was, well, shocking. I was just there the day before, getting my groceries. The tornado went through the area of town that has seen a crazy amount of expansion these last few years. What shocked me the most was seeing the debris completely clogging Gallatin Road (hwy 31) - a five lane road - most which had come from the high priced subdivisions off Brown lane.

Then there was Vol State. It was a good thing it was a Friday. That's the slow day. What I understand, no one was seriously hurt. When I saw the damage to the health science building (only two years old,) the admin building (that they just renovated and expanded, no less) and all those trees down in the visitor parking, I couldn't believe it. I cried after I wondered if it would have been so damn hard for the videographer to walk to the other side of the health building to show whether the Fine Arts building survived.

Some folks around here are scrambling to help. The owner of the Bethpage Recyclers e-list is gathering things together for the folks who lost their homes. Food and shelter aren't the only things needed, though. Send plenty of prayers and strength too. These folks are going to need all they can get.

Bast Update

2006-04-05T14:48:00.000-05:00

Just posting a quick update on the painting of Bast. I'm not too happy with the belt yet. It doesn't look like she's wearing it, more like it's just sitting there. I also haven't found my way out of the "chestal" area yet...but it'll get there.

This painting is fun to do now. It's getting a lot of texture in it, where I'm using a palette knife instead of a brush. I'm just hoping I don't go into overdone territory with it.

I'll try to get a better photo where you can see the background better in the next day or so.

Well, that's it for now. Not much else to say. See you in a bit.

A page from the ol' sketch book

2006-04-04T16:38:00.000-05:00

In my defense, it had to be done. Maybe most of the angst (read: melodrama) is finally over for a while and my world can fully return to its usual bizarre self.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, art, sketches, sketch, sketch book]

Cleaning up the cemetery

2006-04-03T20:47:00.000-05:00

No art got done today but I'm still beat. I spent a good deal of the day in the cemetery (and what girl wouldn't love that? What? Oh, just me?) picking up after last night's storms. Several big, dead tree limbs blew out of the top of the old oak tree in the back. I knew the wind was nasty last night but I had proof when I found one piece of a limb about a foot long. It had the appearance of trying to stab one of the graves - I guess I pulled three or four inches out of the ground. I ended up keeping most of the wood because it was beautiful - a creamy off white color with lots of bug tracks and "worm holes" in it. I don't what the heck I'm going to do with it but I couldn't let it go to waste.

I noticed today there were several sunken places that are unmarked graves. One gravestone is broken into about four pieces and several of the graves have some flowers on them that are so old, I can't tell what color they used to be. I also found a small piece of marble from a gravestone with a small amount of old red candlewax hidden beneath it, just enough to anchor a candle to the stone. I didn't sense any bad intentions with it, just some extraordinarily stupid judgment.

For some reason, I also found a bingo card pen with plenty of ink still in it. Is there something going on in that cemetery I don't know about? What kind of bingo prizes would the dead be interested in anyway? New satin pillows? A night at a luxurious bone bath and night Spa?

Getting back on track here, I decided something while I was out in the cemetery. I don't know why it's taken me so long to come to it. I don't have any family buried there. In fact, I don't have a clue who any of the people are, except for one guy who got the original grant for this land just after the civil war. No one's been buried here in many, many years and there is only a very occasional visitor in the warmer months. Yes, there is a guy who has family buried there who mows the cemetery every summer but this little spot of land is aching for some attention.

I will fix what I can and mark the location of graves. I'll take out the old, faded flowers and clean out that brush pile. I will care.

...and I'll try not to steal any more bingo pens.

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, cemetery, cemeteries]

I'm an Addams! (Or Nosferatu, I'm not sure which.)

2006-04-02T20:51:00.000-05:00

I hope this is still up: archeology April Fool's spoof: Archeology of the Undead

(Have I succeeded in making the Rocky Top Brigade regret opening its ranks to just any ol' Tennessee blogger yet? Just kidding, y'all.)

Lately, I've started collecting old photos. Not just any old photos but just whatever catches my eye, which means more than likely they've got something fairly odd about them. So imagine my delight when my mom brought over a box full of photos that had belonged to my great aunt.

Now, I don't know if it's a Southern thing or just my own weird family but there were a lot of photos of bodies in their caskets. There were just as many photos of people sitting on grave markers as if it were family reunion day at the park (hmmm...come to think of it...it could as well have been, for all I know.)

Case in point: this photo that was given to my great, great grandmother Nike. (That's pronounced like "Mike" - it's short for Monica, which in turn was pronounced "Mo-NIGH-ca.") No one knows who the person is in the casket - or the strange guy standing behind it. I just know when I saw it, I immediately said, "Uncle Fester!!" Then again, he does sort of look like the creature from the 1922 movie "Nosferatu," doesn't he?

I have my own memories of being at the funeral home and someone taking photos of the body. Mostly, the memories are of my own grandfather, who died when I was seven and we still run across the photos of that every now and then. What I can't figure out is why in the world would anyone want to remember their loved ones like this.

Huh. Maybe I should ramble about strange memories like this more often. The more I ramble, the more I'm figuring out just why I'm as warped as I am.

(edited to add an extra "great")

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary,weird]

Chasing Bast

2006-03-30T02:59:00.000-06:00

I feel like I was spoiled when it came to working on the painting of Khnum. The research was fairly easy with lots of scholarly info out there. Bast, on the other hand, is not so easy. (I think there's a joke in there somewhere.)

That's not to say that She's not popular. Oh no - just the opposite. The problem is that not much of the info for Bast is very scholarly and most of it is just reprinted (read: stolen) from other sources - which reprinted (stole) it from somewhere else. Then there is the one scholarly source, Per-Bast, which pretty much says that everything we know about Her is historically wrong. What exactly is She? Well, the webmaster can't say, except that we'll have to figure that part out ourselves.

Oh yes. That was a lot of help.

So I've spent these last few weeks trying to get a feel for Her, trying to get to know Her. For the longest time, it felt like a very one-sided deal - with me doing all the work.

Here's a sketch that came out of the frustration. I thought about trying to unite the two perceptions of Her, protector and sexy but in the end it just looked like a character from a cheesy super-hero cartoon. After a few of these, I finally had to tell Her, "That's it. I have tried and tried but I've spent too long on this. It's not working. I have to move on to another project. Sometimes it's just not meant to be."

Apparently, my quitting is all it took. The next night, I finally got this sketch on paper. Herself, just standing there, with Her arms crossed and the sun (representative of Her being the protector/avenger of Ra) behind Her.

So now the painting is finally going. It's an odd one: 18.5"h x 8.0"w. That red paint gave Her an interesting look when it got dragged in as I was blocking the figure, didn't it?

All righty, then. It's 2:30 a.m. and time for bed. Zan, C.C. - thank you for the comments! I'll answer them in a few hours after I've given my poor, tired brain a reboot.

[Technorati tags: art, Oil Painting,Daily Life, Diary, paganism]

The betting window is now open

2006-03-30T02:49:00.000-06:00

First things first: The twenty nineth is my dad's birthday. I hope the gift I ordered for him arrived today. Last time I saw him, he talked about the horrible "swill" he has to put up with at home, so I found some organic coffee. My thinking is this: organic vegetables taste...well, more like vegetables where the stuff in the store is pretty darn bland. Here's to hoping the same holds true for organic coffee.

Now, on to the bets. It's four days into a new phone billing session. Our ~~Podunk~~ illustrious phone company allots us (for a monthly fee) a certain amount of time for local calls to Nashville - which is where my internet access happens to be because I can't stand ~~Podunk's~~ own slow as molasses on a -40 degree day and expensive as hell service. Everyone around us (read: who use the other phone company) get to call Nashville for free. Will I stay within the allotted time for once or will I have another fairly large phone bill?

Betting info: Azra just downloaded the new-to-her version of Winamp and discovered the joys of Shoutcast. She spent three hours the first night looking for new and different radio stations. Winamp is now usually the first thing pulled up when online, even before mail or the automatic update of the antivirus program. The winners so far:

Radio Noferatu Azra can't seem to resist the music as well as such "commercials" as "Stevie Nicks' Greatest Hits - now digitally remumbled for stereo imcomprehenisity."

Gabba Gabba Radio "All Ramones, All the time - now with more Ramones."

Qu!TuRcRy!N NativeRadio SK She can't be without her Pow Wow drumming either.

Current odds: Staying within allotted time: 99 to 1
Having a larger than usual phone bill: 2 to 1

[Technorati tags: Daily Life, Diary, winamp, shoutcast]

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!

2006-03-17T14:24:00.000-06:00

Why is it that sometimes I have to feel like I am going absolutely, positively batshit before I can get on with making art again? Yesterday was horrible. Not only did I wake up feeling pissed and disgusted with something that happened the day before (which I probably shouldn't talk about, even though the person involved will never read this) but I also felt very deeply lonely, wishing for someone absolutely snogilicious in the most melodramatic way possible - right down to just wanting to throw myself down on the floor of the studio and moan shakily with a long hanky in my hand like the woman in the Edward Gorey intro to PBS' Mystery! This after I had - also very melodramatic and complete with all kinds of hand gestures - ranted for about an hour to the gods about why I was so pissed.

Yes - it's true, people. Beneath this calm, cool and collected exterior is not a drama queen but a melodrama one. I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Deville!

A Journey*

2006-03-14T20:43:00.000-06:00

I am sitting in the sun, reading a book and enjoying a cup of tea. Soon, my eyes droop and I don't think I can stay awake any longer.

Instead of taking a nap, I find myself getting up out of my lounge chair. Something is different - the sunlight is brighter, everything is "sharper" and right in front of me is a path.

The path is sunlight itself, made solid like beaten gold. I find myself walking easily on it, despite the fact it leads up right up into the sky toward the sun. The farther I walk on this path, the brighter the light gets. Soon, I can't see anything but the light. Brighter and brighter.

Suddenly, I see something else in front of me, as if it is forming itself right out of this light. I can see the lower half of a body, then the rest, as well as some kind of room. I don't notice the room so much. All my attention is on Her. Bast.

I stand there, at first, staring like a fool. She wears a sheer white skirt, gathered in front and topped with a gold and bejeweled belt - and little else. She walks to a nearby table loaded for a banquet as she nibbles from a heavily loaded tray. I find myself now down on my knees, not in supplication or abasement, but as a sign of respect. I finally have the presence to ask her if there is any way She wishes me to portray her in my painting, since I had the feeling it was She who wanted it in the first place.

"Paint me as a white cat," she says. "Not a desert cat like you were thinking." I don't know quite what to think of this - many of the depictions I have seen of Her are black and I say so. "It doesn't matter," she replies. "This is what I want."

With that, it is over. I open my eyes and see the sun has dipped behind the trees and their long shadows have crept over me.

*a shamanic tool, somewhat like guided meditation except it is totally unscripted. Usually, the person taking the journey holds a question in mind at the beginning. In this case, it was my preoccupation on how to portray Bast.

I hope no one minds if I answer comments later - I really want to sit with this for a while.

Because I'm a completist

2006-03-14T16:51:00.000-06:00

Here is a painting I finished this week. It was supposed to be a quick 3 or 4 hour painting but I got involved in it, which means it ended up taking about ten or twelve. I'm not saying it's particularly good or anything. It's simply a 5.25 x 5 inch "just because" painting I did on the spur of the moment.

I wanted a good variety of textures in this still life, plus something a little goofy "just because." I like the rocks at the top and the reaper. That little white shell at the top almost made me want to tear my hair out and it's still not right. Those two shells at the bottom took forever too!

Oh yeah. Now I remember why it's been over two years since I painted a still life. They're on the superhighway straight into insanity.

Is this thing on?!

2006-03-12T21:40:00.000-06:00

I've added my blog to the Technorati site. You'd think it would be easy just to add a little snippet of code to my template to display a little button. I didn't think it was showing up at all. I don't know how long it parked itself at the top of the page before I noticed...

I'm embarrassed to say that "push button publishing" has gotten the better of me for the moment. Maybe my Technorati button should say "Technoramus" instead.

Huh.

2006-03-09T10:00:00.000-06:00

Dream fragment:

I am some kind of shop but I'm not paying attention to what's in it. My eyes hurt. I keep trying to adjust my glasses but it doesn't help. Finally, I take my glasses off and see why I hurt: the frames are bent and twisted and the lenses are cracked and smeared with a yellowish something that's now dried. I carefully try to straighten out the frame so I can wear the glasses without pain but I'm afraid I'll break them.

I wonder what it that's all about? I didn't think my view of things was that screwed up!

A first draft Creation story (read: a small novella)

2006-03-07T23:29:00.000-06:00

In the long ago time, long before there was anything in the universe - before there were any planets, stars or even your Old Aunt Claire - there was Nothing. At first, Nothing wanted, well, nothing more than to sleep. So, it did. No one knows exactly how long Nothing slept because the concept of time wouldn't be invented for...oh, let's say several billion years. It didn't wake up for anything. It didn't wake up for a bad dream, a snack, or even the Monster Under the Bed, mainly because none of those things existed either. On and on, Nothing slept. That is, until something began to disturb it.

(ba dump)
At first, the something was irregular and barely perceptible (ba dump), which made it much more irritating. Nothing tried to ignore it and sleep. After a while, the something began to take on a rhythm and it began to get louder (ba dump. ba dump. ba dump.) Nothing couldn't ignore it any longer, mainly because there wasn't anything to throw at it to shut it up. That's when an interesting thing happened: Nothing woke up.

It's a no-brainer to figure out that Nothing was not a morning person. On top of that, the rhythm continued (ba dump. ba dump. ba dump.) Nothing couldn't escape it. (ba dump. ba dump. ba dump.) It got angry! It raged and seethed. Now, all that anger had to go somewhere. So, somewhere near the middle of Nothing and just below where its belly button would have been if it had one, a tiny bubble of energy began to form. This tiny little bubble started to grow with Nothing's growing rage. Stronger and bigger. Bigger and stronger the bubble grew and Nothing still couldn't get away. In fact, the angrier Nothing got, the faster and louder the rhythm went. (ba dump. ba dump. Ba Dump Ba Dump Ba DUMPBADUMPBADUMP) That's when another interesting thing happened.

The bubble of energy continued to grow but Nothing wasn't angry anymore. Another sensation had taken over completely: ecstasy. Nothing forgot everything as the rhythm consumed it and it consumed the rhythm. (BADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBADUMP) The bubble of energy started to pulse with the rhythm as power fed it and power grew. (BADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBADUMP) Nothing even forgot itself. (BADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBADUMP) Ecstasy. (BADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBADUMP)

Suddenly, Nothing came back to itself. It felt fear and panic. The bubble had become too big and too powerful. Nothing couldn't let it go - there was nowhere for it to go - and it couldn't hold on to the bubble much longer. So, with no other options, Nothing gave itself up to the energy and the rhythm.

BADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBADUMPBA

BOOOOMMMMM!!!!*
After a while (no one knows exactly how long of a while it was), awareness returned. It took a while longer to figure out what was different. Now, where there had once been Nothing, there was energy. Everywhere. Energy in the forms of light and heat were starting to be given off by stars of every size and color. Energy in the form of matter was coalescing into planets. Galaxies. "The energy formerly known as Nothing" noticed something else. Where there had once been only Nothing, whole and complete unto itself, now some of the energy was different. Split. Male, Female and many other varieties. All these new energies began to literally give new life to the universe. It. Was. Incredible. But that's a story for another day.

*Well all right, smartypants. We all know sound can't carry in the vacuum of space. You tell me, though: does "SIIIILLEEEENNNCCCEEE!!!!!!!! make for a good story?

Stories

2006-03-03T00:13:00.000-06:00

We all have stories. There are stories told by individuals, family, and still more told by a community. Folktales, myths, teaching and sacred stories. In the end, that is all the whole history of the human race is: stories told through the ages, and still reverberating in our ears, hearts and minds.

What is amazing is the sheer variety in the stories. Take creation for instance. Many of us grow up with the Christian version of events: it took six days to go from the Word to light to planets and finally to mankind itself. On the seventh day...well, after all that creatin', God just had to have a nap.

That's just one version. There are many, many more. In the Northwest, there is a tribe who say one of their gods danced the Earth into being, working and kneading the clay with his feet until it was in shape for all living beings to flourish. There is a Feri story that says the Star Goddess caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of space and all of creation is a result of her love. Some scientists say all that exists is the result of the big bang - the ultimate story of something emerging from nothing. Still others say it's the effect of two parallel universes bumping into each other.

All that diversity. All that creativity. Go ahead and add yours to the mix. Don't be afraid. All those trolls, demons, imps and unseelie make up some of the best stories. Tell them. They deserve to be told.

Go ahead. I dare you.

This Blogger's Life These Past Few Weeks

2006-03-03T00:06:00.000-06:00

...as summed up by a caption from a Far Side cartoon:

Full moon and empty head.

I've sat down to write entries to this thing and I just ended up staring at a screen that was as blank as my mind. It sucks. Yea and Verily, it does.

Here is the latest painting - so far. I've been struggling for a week now to figure out why Cat doesn't look right. It wasn't until I was tinkering with the .jpg that I realized what it was. Shadows and highlights on the bench: check. Shadows and highlights in the background: check. Shadows and highlights on Cat: oops...except, for some reason, on her nose and in her eyes. I got those. Goofball.

Sounds interesting...

2006-02-17T22:22:00.000-06:00

birds of a feather mail art show

"As part of the Eureka Springs Festival of the Arts in May I am hosting an International Mail Art Show with. The theme for the festival is birds so with that I am having a Birds of a Feather International Mail Art Show.

Artists around the globe are invited to submit a postcard sized art piece through the mail to be included in this International Mail Art Show. The pieces should depict the theme of birds in any media the artist chooses. The show is open to all ages and is not juried. The show will be presented at the Eureka Springs Carnegie Public Library Meeting Room Friday, May 12 with a reception on Saturday, May 13 from 2-4. At the reception visitors will be able to take a piece that they like home for free."

The Latest BromArt Update email

2006-02-17T22:16:00.000-06:00

I just have to share. I love Brom's update letters.

Warning from BROMART!

Brom has escaped and is on the prowl! We’ve found his personal journal, deciphered his illegible hand-writing and have pin-pointed that he will be at the following locations at the following times and dates:

New York Comic Con February 24th (afternoon) and 25th (morning) - signing at the Harry Abrams booth

Signing at St Marks Comics February 25th, Saturday, 8 - 10PM,

11 St Marks Place, NYC, NY
(212) 598-9439

Emerald City Comic Con April 1st and 2nd 2006. Seattle

World Horror Con San Francisco May 11 - 14th

San Diego Comic Con July 20 -23 2006

Our understanding is he will be there to promote his new book the Plucker, as well as to chat, tell lies, use profanity poorly, and sign just about anything you bring to him that he can’t eat.

If you spot him, remain calm, approach with caution. Keep out of spitting and biting distance. His shots are not up to date. Do not offer him food scraps. And at all cost keep small children, the elderly, and members of the clergy at least 50 feet away.

Miscellaneous Jargon

Please do not respond to this note, as I will never receive it. All replies to this mailing list go directly to Hell and will be read by pointy eared devils that delight in making fun of your bad grammar. Instead just send a note to blackmail@bromart.com .

If by chance someone put you on my mailing list as a cruel joke, or if you have been instructed by a piece of bread bearing the semblance of the Christ to stay away from me, just go to http://www.bromart.com and hit Unsubscribe. We will remove you from the list immediately … well maybe not immediately, depends what’s on TV that night. How about some time relatively soon thereafter, with the condition nothing really good is airing that night?

Helllllloooo?? Azra??? You home?

2006-02-17T22:13:00.000-06:00

Hmmm...I'm seeing a pattern forming here. Holiday coming up = no posts from Azra. Bleh - I really need to do better than that! Although...I will admit Valentine's almost went by without me even noticing.

My mom called Monday and asked, "Did you want to go get something to eat tomorrow?"

"On a Tuesday?"

"Well, it is Valentine's Day."

"Oh."

This is almost equal to a conversation we had over the weekend:

Mom: "What would we do if we couldn't get out (meaning "go shopping and whatnot") every now and then?"

Me: "Paint."

Mom: " ."

Eh - maybe I do need to get out and socialize more often. Lately, I've been so absorbed in my routine in the studio, I forget nearly everything else. I'm happy though. I'm finally doing something I've been wanting to do for years. That counts for a lot in my book.

Another glimpse into an artist's mind

2006-02-09T17:36:00.000-06:00

I have a feeder at my studio but I found out rather quickly that most of the visiting birds rather eat on the ground. First thing I do every day, before anything else, is scatter the seed around the base of the big hickory the feeder hangs on.

I was late getting there today. Therefore, the seed was late too.

While I had gesso drying on several boards, I meant to do some studies of the birds at the feeder. As you can see, it didn't quite work out that way.

The list got cut off at the bottom of the page:
1 nuthatch (yay!)
bluejay
cardinals
song(?) sparrows
chickadees

I also felt another "knock" (on the head?) so I worked out a very rough and basic sketch for a painting:

Yes, people. First Khnum and now Bast. What in the world have I gotten into?

The writing down the side that got cut off says:
Bast
Belly dancer?
accentuate curves
sinewy
Have Her looking more at viewer
minimal background
Black cat? White 'gloves'?
Egyptian breeds?

She's going to have to wait a little while though. After she saw the work I did on those dogs, my mom asked, "Could you do one of Cat?"

This is coming from Ms. "I Don't Need or Want a Pet." Her cat forced herself on my mom a little over a year and a half ago now. That cat is more spoiled than...I don't know what. I keep joking that all my mom needs now is one of those old fashoined prams so she can take Cat (only one of her many names) wherever she goes.

Only...I'm afraid she just might do it one of these days.

Khnum Update #2

2006-02-07T14:01:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm not entirely thrilled with the photo. All the little white spots are glare.

I think He's about finished. I tried to add more colors to the painting (I kept hearing one of my former instructors - Ms. Mulcahy - in my head: "USE MORE COLOR!!") but just didn't work. So, it's time to put Him back, let Him dry and see if there is anything that needs to be changed. Then it's varnishin' time! (For some reason, I wanted to say it like a UT football game: "It's varnishin' time in Tennessee!" I think I've inhaled too many paint fumes.)

When it's finally all said and done, it'll be time to see what kind of reception He'll get on DeviantArt. I can go back to doing different kinds of goofy posts in my blog too. Whoo-hoo!

It's finally here!

2006-02-05T15:32:00.000-06:00

The rice and beans are cooling and some of the avocados are mashed. The sour cream, olives, tomatoes and shredded cheese are ready to go on top. I've got three different kinds of chips, only one pizza, two kinds of cola and one bottle of wine. I've even got three kinds of black tea.

The cats are fed and romping outside, despite Spook's efforts to play supervisor and official rice taste tester. I got in some painting earlier and I'm trying to see if I've forgotten anything so I won't have to go scrambling for it later.

Yes!! Two hours and counting until the yearly Commercial Kick Off! I hear they're even bringing MacGyver out of retirement but not that sweet, sweet mullet he used to have. (The word "mullet" just needs the words "sweet, sweet" in front of it, doesn't it?)

What? Game? What game? You mean there's a football game today too? Huh - whadayaknow.

Khnum Update

2006-01-31T19:00:00.000-06:00

This is what happens when you try to photograph a semi-wet board on a sunny day: 99.995% of the blue isn't actually in the painting. It's the sky reflecting off the glaze in the background. That's sort of cool, in a bizarre kind of way.

Now I just need to pull the "people-esque" shapes out of the background a little more and tone Khnum Himself way down before the detail goes in (I think I need to work in a few more colors too.) Some of the strange texture in the background is where I had the paint run down the board to represent Khnum's water aspects. Now it just looks like part of the wall.

There for a while, I had some serious doubts about this thing. I threatened several times a day to just take this painting right off the easel and let ~~Him think about how He was treating me~~ it sit until I was good and ready to work on it again. Maybe we're finally coming to an understanding.

I certainly hope so.

Ugh

2006-01-31T18:58:00.000-06:00

Was I in a mood or what? Sorry about that.

A little gratuitous ego boosting

2006-01-28T22:33:00.000-06:00

Okay, I admit it. I'm a little vain. I also realize that I am not always the most forthcoming about myself, my life and my experiences when it comes to this blog. So, in the interest of applying a little Fix-A-Flat to my ego, here is an exercise I've used every so often over the last ten years. There are probably other versions of it floating around out there. Someone once gave me the barest bones of it while telling me about an experience they had with a spiritual counselor. I ran with the idea of "meeting" different facets of myself.

"The Dinner"

Get comfortable and relax. Let all the stress and tension drain right out of your body. Especially get it out of those little nooks and crannies we all forget about: drop your jaw, unscrunch your forehead, work on that little tight spot right between your shoulderblades...

Now, ground and center, using whatever technique works for you. When you're ready, start visualizing a room. This room can be anything: a ski lodge with plenty of soft, comfortable chairs and couches. A formal dining room, complete with fine china, silver and a chandelier. A kitchen. You can even visualize a meal or snacks if you want. Just create the room with the intention of inviting in various parts of yourself that want to "meet up" or socialize.

When the room is ready, visualize a door opening and various "people" coming into the room. These are different facets of yourself. They could appear as anything: archetypal beings, people you know, characters from stories, fairy tales or myths. Greet them, talk to them and get to know them. In other words, you're the host of this party - mingle! Ask them questions. What do they represent? Do they have some information you need? Some of these facets you may be very comfortable with and not so comfortable with others. Sometimes, there are parts of us that we can't or don't want to face or accept and they may show up in strange ways. Are any of them angry? Sad? Do they need you to make amends?

When it's time, thank "everyone" for coming and let them leave the room. Get ready to come out of the visualization by consciously taking a few deep breaths and perhaps gently stretching a bit. Open your eyes.

I don't want to influence anyone's results so if you're curious about what some of my facets were, I'll post them in the comments.

Note to self:

2006-01-26T13:24:00.000-06:00

Dear Self:

Go to The Wish Jar Journal and read the entry called "Grinding Grinding Grinding," especially the part called "Exhibit B."

READ IT! PRINT IT! READ IT AGAIN!

Thank you,
Azra

They're on to me...

2006-01-25T23:40:00.000-06:00

Shhh...don't tell anyone...

You are faking non-gothness! You're the type that tries to not be goth, hiding it by listening to emo and/or underground hip-hop. You can't hide it though, we all *know*! We see your Neitzsche and your TKK!

What kind of goth are you?

Created by ptocheia

A week of misery

2006-01-25T00:28:00.000-06:00

Man, I've been in a truly nasty funk since the last post. Yes, a funk for a solid week. Everything got turned on its head: I'd get up and try to work on the painting of Khnum for a few hours, only to be wishing to be anywhere but standing in front of this *&#^@!*%^ painting that isn't cooperating. By six p.m., I'd be dozing off in front of the TV, only to be raring to go back to the studio at two a.m. or three. I kept arguing with...Khnum? Myself? The Keebler Elf? that wouldn't accomplish much since there isn't any power down there at the moment and I absolutely refused to try painting by lantern light. Then, the insistent feeling to get myself to the studio would stay until I was just too exhausted to do anything else collapse in bed so I could oversleep and start all over again the next day. I did try to write about what was going on but the little bit that made into pixel form sounded like so much shiny, patent bullshit - which didn't help things any. I just could not figure out what the heck was going on. (Yeah, I know...I never said I was brilliant.)

Yes, people, I was getting really cranky. Today, I decided to get away from the whole sorry mess. My mom came by and we ended up leaving the state (that sounds sort of impressive until you realize the Kentucky state line is only about twenty or so minutes away.) I got to walk a little bit along the creek in the Franklin city park. The water was still way up but the thunderstorms over the weekend washed all kinds of mussel shells on shore - there were almost as many of them as rocks. I picked up a few, as well as a small bone I found. It looks like part of an animal skull. I started feeling almost normal after that. I really felt normal when we got back to Portland and discovered the library had a ton of sci-fi books for a quarter each. I walked away with Heinlein, McCaffrey and I don't remember what else.

Anyway, the bad thing about all this funk is most of it could have been avoided if I only listened and actually gone to the studio. I went down there tonight to feed Toby (who knew he'd become a studio/cemetery cat? That's my boy.) I lit a candle so I could see his bowl and turned around to see the shelf along the wall in the back of the studio. There it was - the answer why the painting wasn't working.

All this week, I'd been trying to make this painting exactly what it shouldn't be: a bright, shiny Ode to All Things Sacred and Boring. "Behold! Bright and Shiny Lord Khnum is forming another worthy soul on his wheel! See? It's sacred! It's bright! It's colorful!" It's sickening.

Standing there, watching the shadows flicker around the shelf, I realized this painting needs to be much, much darker. The stories say Khnum created himself before forming an egg that hatched the sun and earth. He then went on to form all other life. That's where this painting wants to go: Khnum, alone in the dark (except for a fire somewhere out of the frame), sitting at his potting wheel. Behind him, a suggestion of shelves lined with greenware - the egg, the gods, humans, etc. - waiting to be dry enough to go into the kiln.

Yeah, I like that...and it only took a week of misery for me to figure it out.

Here I am, Zan!

2006-01-17T02:46:00.000-06:00

(Alternate title: Huh? Whadaya mean it's been ten days? Didn't I just post a day or so ago?)

Okay, y'all - you can kick me from here to Memphis (take your pick between Tennessee and Egypt) for not posting. This has been one of those weeks where nothing seemed to go right so perhaps a kick is exactly what I need.

My mom and I did take in the Hermitage. It was pretty neat, considering they've added a few new things, but I didn't get one sketch and only about twelve odd photos. Part of the reason was the wind - all a person had to do was hold out their arms and they could have flown straight home. The crowd wasn't so bad at first but it got worse as the day went on (Gee, I wonder why?) My particular favorite things were the Belted Galloways, the donkey and the tiny, tiny cotton patch. Oh yes, a person might have gotten a whole pair of pants out of that field.

The rest of the week felt like a total bust. I kept playing tag with the mailman because I had a notice that he tried to deliver a book. Every day, I felt like I couldn't start anything major because I'd have to drop everything to chase the mailman - only to miss him and realize there was only a little bit of light left to get any work done...and yes, after a while, I did feel like running around in circles, chasing my tail and barking.

I ended up calling the post office, only to be told they didn't have any record of the notice or the book. When I finally did catch the mailman, I got the feeling he did know what happened to my book but didn't want to tell me. So...after about four days, the mundane work was done with not much to show for it. It was time for the big guns. Hey! I never said I was especially brilliant on timing...

I took a cue from the cave artists of Ice Age France, only instead drawing an auroch on the end of my arrow, I had my book. A neat thing happened as I finished drawing it: I "saw" a silver arrow laying on top of the one in the drawing and a silver longbow in my hand. I notched the arrow, drew it back and said, "Find my book!" as I sent it into the air. Two hours later, my mailman was calling me to tell me that the book had been delivered to the wrong house and I should have it later that afternoon - and I did. It's a great book too: "Problem Solving for Oil Painters." So far, this one book has told me as much - if not more - than three semesters of oil painting classes. Now I hope I don't have to repeat the process for the other two books I ordered. ("Technicians of Ecstasy: Shamanism and the Modern Artist" and "Dreamtime and Inner Space" if anyone wants to know. Used books from Amazon are a wonderful thing.)

The prelim sketches of Khnum are finally starting to work. I had to do some serious research on Him and make some adjustments. I found a neat page about the wheels used in Egypt to throw pots and it had pictures! (Yay!) I also had to research the type of clothes to use - Pharonic? Royalty? Laborer? A mixture of both? The jury's still out on that one.

The breed of sheep the Ancient Egyptians used as a basis for Him went extinct just after the Middle Kingdom era (circa 1640 BCE.) I found another breed - the Damara - still in existence that had its beginnings in Egypt around that same time. Their horns aren't as straight as the others but I got the idea that Khnum was happy with my decision as I sketched it out. Now I just have to figure out how to fit it onto a human body and have it look like it belongs there.

Oh good grief - it's 2:30 in the morning and I've been rambling on and on. No wonder I'm yawning. See you in a bit. I'm off to visit the dreamtime.

Phase two

2006-01-07T23:41:00.000-06:00

I wanted to sit down and write a little bit while the water is warming for my tea. I don't want anyone upset with me - it's 11:12 p.m. and I want to properly thank everyone who left birthday greetings but I have to be up again in about seven hours. I will do it. I promise - but not tonight.

My dad just left a little while ago. It was a good day for the most part. We had Chinese for lunch and ended up doing something extremely fun on my part: roaming through the aisles (again!) of the Lowe's, only this time it was the new one in Gallatin. We spent a large chunk of the time looking at the power tools and I got a lot of practical advice: "Don't buy Ryobi. They've been bought out and you can't get parts for the tools anymore. This attachment is great for the dremel - I use it a lot. Here's what you should do if you want power in your studio..." Yeah, it was good. There are a lot of things unsaid between us but this day, neither of us let them get in the way.

I really want to type more but I'm beat. I'm going to go try to watch Stargate without falling asleep with my tea in my lap. I'm counting tomorrow as "Phase Three" of my birthday - admission is free to the Hermitage tomorrow for the 191st (!) anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans and I'm hoping to get there early enough to get some good sketches before so many of the church crowds get there. After that, I'll get back to work on the sketches for Khnum. I think he's getting a little impatient with me.

Goodnight y'all.