An Alright Day After All

Current listening: Crickets

Ari meowing as he stalks the yard

'Funny Cat' (the raccoon) chewing on something

Today was indeed an alright day. It started out a bit rough though. I went ahead and asked for an appointment with a new  therapist in town after I woke up and had that old, familiar empty feeling right in the middle of my chest. I call it "The Void" because that is exactly what it can feel like - a vast, Lovecraftian crack in the center of myself, stretching into eternity and frightening in its very emptiness.  A little while later, another familiar monthly  :::ahem::: friend showed up and explained why some things seemed amped up lately by about a factor of 10. Yay. 

Today was also the deadline to enter the show at the Tomato Art Fest and I let it go. I did enter last year, after a four year absence, but that was more because I had promised the former owner. It's no fault of the show or the Fest, but I am still so burned out on it. Maybe I'll be ready to enter again somewhere down the road. 

Granted, I don't have to fight and jump through hoops anymore just to get my work there. Thank the gods! No more crazy narcissistic reasoning ("You can't make a living with art...of course they want you back. They want to make money") or fear that I might miss a delivery deadline - and waste an entire hour long trip to town - because someone else insisted their fun was more important. I certainly don't miss the dismissive "Oh. You didn't sell anything" on bad days and the hours long rages, with attendant threats to call the police for some stupid, made up thing - when I did sell. The better my sales, the worse the rages. The feeling of eternally being caught up in an emotional and mental tornado and not being able to think clearly was maddening. 

Oddly, late this afternoon, as I waved at the deadline as it passed me by, I started working on a few additions of the sporadic series I started years ago called An Ode to Wazowski. I have two about half finished at the moment, an illusionist and a clown. We'll see what else comes of it. The ones I did last year - a Gandalf type wizard, a ceremonial magician and a hip witch - were the first ones to ever not sell. I'm pretty sure my burnt out energy were all over them and no one wanted that. 

I've been thinking of a different way of promoting my work, which tells me that I must be finally getting that former bullshit out of my system. I signed up for MailChimp a couple of years ago, but I never did anything with it. I had thought of doing something about less well known folklore, starlore, mythology and who knows what else. What I want now is do that in a newsletter promoting my art - make it more engaging than just saying, "Hey. There's this. Please buy it." 

Okay, I'm tired - enough rambling. Goodnight y'all.  

 

Dear Self:

It's been one heck of a ride these last two months, hasn't it?  It's also brought up a few issues, hasn't it?  You haven't been feeling the most confident about your art, have you?  That fear of the Art Police has been rather entrenched as well, hasn't it? 

Here's some advice:  Shut up. 

Let's look at this.  Since July, you have started how many paintings?  Two carnival poster paintings; one orange slice ferris wheel, several tomatoes on the vine with tentacles, two with fruit and dinosaurs, one medium sized one where the tomatoes are getting revenge on a cutworm, a series of four smaller ones of them getting revenge on other insects, one of a kitsune, one 'inner self  portrait,' and another series of four of various critters wearing top hats, bowlers and bow ties.  Of these, three are still in progress; two were painted over and the rest went to the gallery. 

Of the gallery paintings, two have sold; three have come home, two stayed in the gallery and four were delivered today.  That's seventeen paintings in two months and eleven of them ended up in the gallery.  That sounds like a good record to me. 

So...shut up.  Paint.  If the Art Police show up, just pretend that It's 106 miles to Chicago, you've  got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark... and you're wearing sunglasses.  

Dreams and Calendars

Tired.  I got to work on two of the four inch paintings today.  It went fairly well.  I think I need to make the bugs a little more prominent.  After all, they're the reason why the tomatoes are getting revenge!

I painted for several hours, beginning around 9:30 or so.  No wonder I was ready to take a nap around 3:30, which is exactly what I did while a storm came in.  I only slept for about fifteen minutes but it was interesting.  I had one of those rare dreams where I knew I wasn't too far asleep and I was talking to someone.  I don't remember who or what was being said this time but I felt calm and fairly peaceful when I woke.  I had the feeling that I had gotten some good encouragement somehow. 

It was somewhat like the dream I had not long after Granny died.  We hadn't gotten along in a long while but in this dream, we settled things.  Like today's dream, I don't remember much about what was said.  I do remember very clearly standing in the kitchen, like we always did.  I was leaning against the stove, cup of tea in hand.  She was making biscuits and we finished our conversation before she got out her 'biscuit cutter,' which was a small, old tin can with both ends cut out.  It was like those tins blueberries used to come in with the blueberry pancake mix. 
____________________________________________________

Lammas is coming up on August 1, or Lughnasadh, if you prefer.  I really need to find something more meaningful to me.  I've stuck with this Celtic calendar...for convenience, I suppose, or laziness.  I have tried over the years to make peace with it (no one can call me a quitter) but it just doesn't resonate with me.  I may come from a line of farmers - two! - but I'm not one.  No matter how it's dressed up, it's still an agrarian calendar.  Outside of Samhain and Yule, it just doesn't cut it. 

Plus, it's a Celtic thing.  I come from Celtic stock but the calendar and mythology just doesn't resonate either.  According to the origins of my last name, there may also be Anglo Saxon as well too but a lot of that leaves me cold too. 

I do love Egyptian mythology but I'm not sure of the calendar.  It seems to be lunar based or something because it doesn't seem to be like Western calendars and the holidays wander.  I need to look into that.  Maybe. 

I know, I need to just get off my ass and figure this out.  Of course, now that the month and NaJoWriMo is nearly over, that's when I finally start getting down to the heart of things.   

Creating the Big A...or Not

Geez, it's hot in here today.  I guess it's no surprise.  I looked up the temps a little while ago and it was 86, with a heat index of 96.  Phew!

Today was spent in one of my favorite ways - building supports for the birch boards.  The gallery owner gave me an idea based on the Revenge painting and said I could have a week or so to do more paintings before the show became too hard to rearrange, so...

I came home yesterday and did my research on tomato pests.   Today, I made the supports and got them gessoed.  I thought about working on the painting on the easel while the glue dried and I had used all my clamps (I really need to replace some and add to the collection.  Like brushes, one can never have enough clamps.) but it took much effort than I was willing to put in after several hours of measuring and sawing to switch back and forth between 'building' brain and 'painting' brain.

Someone told me yesterday that she hadn't painted in fifteen years but has been getting the calling to pick up the brushes again and it's scary.  We agreed that on one hand, it could be a freeing thing - she doesn't have all that academic stuff in her head and she can just play.  Then she said an interesting thing: "Well, plus I finally realized I'm not going to make some Big Art.  I think we all through that at some point."

It's true.  There used to be that little voice at the back of my head.  It said that the art had to be Good - a Masterpiece - that could  hold up against Masters of Art: Dali, Miro, Warhol...of course, I would do it all my own way too. 

I wonder why we think that?  Is it more than just artists that go through this?  Is it just one of those engrained childhood things?  I mean, don't most parents say their kid is going to do Big Things?  "My kid's going to be a Doctor!  A Lawyer!  The PRESIDENT!"  I know it's a good thing meat to be positive thoughts for the future but I just wonder.  Maybe I'm just warped.

One thing to remember is that Van Gogh sold just one painting during his lifetime.  It also strikes me as a lot of trouble to have so much attention on your work.  I read somewhere about an artist (I can't remember his name) who got so popular that the business side of things took up so much of his time that he had two hours a week in  which to paint. 


I have ideas of how I want my art career to go from here, plus I have a standing invite for the gallery as well (that will and can be a post all in itself.)  I may as well get off my ass and do it.  It's not going to make itself. 

Shop Talk

The paintings for the Tomato Art Fest are done!  Yay!  All that's left is to put the info on the back of them (title, medium, contact info, etc.) and delivering them tomorrow.  I do wish I hadn't obsessed so much on the carnival theme.  I would have gotten more paintings finished.  C'est la vie. 

I hope the caterpillar painting's photo is okay - it was a bitch to photograph. Then again, I didn't have the greatest equipment for the job.

I also went ahead and got another painting started.  This one has been floating around my head for about four years and I guess it decided it was time to come into the world.  It pretty much put itself on the board when it came to sketch it out and block in the colors (or rather, block in *some* colors.)

I accidentally got an oak board when I bought

supplies a while back.  I wasn't sure about it when I framed and gessoed it.  The grain is much different to what I'm used to - it is very deep, compared to poplar, and textural.  I want to play with it now with dry brush and building the colors with the base color in the grain and just dragging the other colors on top of that grain. 

I want to advance my skills and damn it, I'm going to do it!  My paintings need a bit more...what's the word?  Sophistication.  Keep the whimsy and odd but advance the techniques. 

My re-ment came on Thursday!  I ordered some loaves of bread and ceramic plates to put them on.  They're so tiny, yet detailed!  The plates are about an inch square and the loaves are about as long.  They even have the cuts in them so they could 'expand' as they 'baked.' 

I see why so many people get hooked on collecting the stuff!  I want a few more things, lettuce being in the mix, of course. 

This means I need to properly set up the shrine.  Altars, I'm used  to having but this is a new thing for me.  For one, I'm not used to having a deity take so much interest in me.  I've had a few that asked me to do things for them but not *this.*  Then again, there haven't been that many I would even consider setting up a shrine for.  I mean, there hasn't been any I really considered cultivating a relationship with. 

This is new alright.  I've resisted the whole deity thing from the beginning.  When I first became Pagan, way back in :::coughcoughmumblemumblecough,::: everyone was insistent on two things: everyone had to become clergy as soon as possible and everyone needed patron deities.

I never was very good at following the crowd or the rules but look at me now...and I can't figure out way a god of chaos is interested in me.  :-D

A post about painting and Egyptian Gods in which Star Wars references were NOT made...

I was seriously considering blowing off tonight's entry.  Sleep will not be long in coming tonight, I hope.  I worked about six hours on a painting today and when I say six hours, I mean "turned on the podcasts and off I went without a break."  I listened to some old Snap Judgement Spook episodes and Dreamland, plus one interview with Brian Cox that I completely forgot I had. 

The painting ended up being redone from yesterday, but I was prepared for that.  I'm not entirely in the love with the background - mostly the purple left from the previous composition. 

I hope the painting will be fine.  After I finished for today, I hung it on the porch in the usual place by the door for the night.  A storm blew up and it was a strong one.  The wind blew the rain in horizontally...all the way to the front door and the painting.  Hopefully, it will dry without any spotting. 

All this work today...I suppose some people will be disappointed to find out it is the third composition for that board.  I finally just painted over the ferris wheel.  It just wasn't working and it was a chore to work on - hell, to look at again.  I had forgotten my rule of thumb: if it doesn't make me smile or chuckle, then it needs to be gone.  It's a lesson I've been relearning on several fronts lately. 

Perhaps that is why Set is back, perhaps He was never gone and I was just not in shape to perceive Him (hell, I could barely perceive the mundane there for a while.)

ANYWAY...

He's been on my mind a lot lately.  A friend posted in her blog night before last about the Furies and mentioned how they have been maligned in modern times and how they were originally storm gods.

The same could be for Set.  I'm not saying He has a completely undeserved reputation and He is all puppies and ice cream (heh.)  It simply isn't the whole picture. 

He is one of the oldest gods in the Egyptian pantheon.  Of course, one the best known stories about Set is the one involving Osiris.  You know: family squabble, Osiris gets murdered (there are two different stories about how it came about) and it's all because of jealousy.

But was it?  Really?

The thing about mythology is it sometimes get influenced by whoever is in charge.  In the older stories, Set is simply the opposite of Horus.  He was Night to Horus' Day and they were equals - more like yin and yang.  Some say this is because the lands were in peace, Set's North and Horus' South.  Somewhere along the line, the South may have gained more power, hence Set being maligned. 

What does this have to do with Osiris?  If you look at the stories, in the beginning, Osiris was a vegetation god.  That's it.  But once Set got a hold of Him, Osiris descended to the underworld...and became Lord of it and of resurrection.  In other words, He went from being a vegetation god to being a Big Deal.  Without Set's actions, He may have never risen (pun intended) within the pantheon.  I suppose it could even be seen as an initiation. 

I could make a comparison to Darth Vader and Obi Wan but I'll refrain.

Coming back to today's painting, destruction was certainly the name of the game.  Hopefully, this comp is infinitely better than the other one with the ferris wheel.  I had wanted to do something different but I don't know.  It just wasn't working.  Perhaps the idea just needed time to go to ground and come back bigger and better.   

A few things...

One thing learned:  no more playing with background color behind the text.  It comes through the feeds looking like a FOIA document.

Well, for good or ill, here are a few paintings...

6" x 9"
Oil on birch
This was a quick, end of day study.  He took over my chair while I was painting and I couldn't resist.  I'll probably go in and clean up that lower right corner sometime but otherwise, I like it. 

And here he is from the front: 

"Oh good god.  Another damn photo?"

I love my Japanese rabbit.  This is a study I'll finish as soon as I figure out how to do the copper bits on the brushes.  That is what's stumping me at the moment - I know I just need to sit down and draw them but I guess I decided to take the hard road and you know, not draw them. 
The shadows need something too - I'll tinker with them.  Maybe.

6" x 6" Oil on primed watercolor paper

I was thinking of those old Silver Stream campers when I began this one.  This is a possible entry for this year's tomato festival.  That is if I can get it to come together a little better.  It's better than it was - I completely redid it this morning.  I got entirely too fiddly and overworked the hell out of it.  So reboot. 

It has potential.  Somewhere in there. 

9" x 12"

Oil on birch

That's it for now, y'all.  Have a good one.

The Art Police

Neil Gaiman gave a great speech at the University of the Arts back in May.  In it, he talks about something I struggle with all the time, despite my brave declaration (rambling?) in the last post.

He said:
"The first problem of any kind of even limited success is the unshakable conviction that you are getting away with something, and that any moment now they will discover you. It’s Imposter Syndrome, something my wife Amanda christened the Fraud Police.

In my case, I was convinced that there would be a knock on the door, and a man with a clipboard (I don’t know why he carried a clipboard, in my head, but he did) would be there, to tell me it was all over, and they had caught up with me, and now I would have to go and get a real job, one that didn’t consist of making things up and writing them down, and reading books I wanted to read. And then I would go away quietly and get the kind of job where you don’t have to make things up any more."

Oh yes.  I know the Fraud Police well.  I call them the Art Police.  Sometimes, I see them as Men In Black - the weird, anachronistic ones rather than Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith.  I would be there, standing in front of the easel when they drive up in their 1940's but brand new looking sedan.  They would get out of the car and in their strange, robotic voices, tell me they were on to me and I would have to put down the brush and stop Right This Minute  because I was perpetuating a major fraud on the world and if I didn't, then Dire Things may happen.  I may even have to ask people if they want fries with that.

I'd like to say that I always know how to deal with the Art Police.  I don't.  Sometimes, yes, I can turn the imagery on its head and invite the MIBs to sit down and have some tea.  I can question every Dire Thing they threaten me with and they stutter and stammer.  But just as often, I still get caught in the trap and their lies about the Dire Things, especially when those Dire Things seem to happen when things are starting to go well.

Yes, it happens sometimes.

That's when I just have to remember - and sooner or later, I do - the Art Police don't have any power over me, unless I give it to them.  That goes for crazymakers and busybodies too.

Art isn't some elitist thing.  There is no "You must be this educated/talented/crazy" bar to stand next to in order to get on the ride.  All that is required is that you show up and do the work.  The ride takes care of itself.     

A new sketchbook

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.

In progress: Red

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

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.)

As the Tomato Turns...

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

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...

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

Bad PR Decisions

Throwing fits

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

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.

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

• 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.

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.

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

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