it is beautiful and wonderful and just amazing...how Caroline hung the show is just a wonder to me. if you look real carefully you'll notice some color patterns within the gallery. sneaky. so - friday night was the opening reception, and i always worry that no one will show up. especially since this weekend is the Big East tournament, the St. Patrick's day parade, and last but not least the Monster Truck competition. i bite my tongue. but - it was fabulous. the place would pack out, then ease up throughout the night. i am so thrilled that so many of my workmates came, and brought their families. one husband said he wouldn't miss it, after all the stories he's heard about me. say wha? but it was all goodness. sales were good for an opening night, and it was such a great feeling to do this with Elizabeth. her felted work is luscious, i tell you, just tasty goodness. AND has a huge picture on pg 18 of the STARS magazine today...go elizabeth! she is an amazing artist, and an incredible person. she needs a clone. the other artist featured in the show is Lynette Blake...her work makes you stand there slackjawed and drooling. you see something new every minute. she is someone who becomes a friend easily and truly. The amazing renegade seamstress herself, Helen Carter from Secret Lentil came down from her shop/studio to see the show (i was wearing one of her dresses). (love her clothes..."protective gear for your internal revolution). I just read this back and gawd it sounds like some 2D society page report. feh. here's why: i am exhausted. the schedule, as you may recall, was up at 4am friday after a teensy bit of sleep thursday due to a barking dog/monster under the bed issue. work till 4pm, then go to the reception. silly me forgot about the dinner portion iof the day, and really need to eat constantly for blood sugar issues. had some wine instead - it's a fruit, right? got myself home, and figured i'd be walking on my hands for a few days - who invented high heels?? up at 4am saturday to go in for a few hours of not-really-mandatory-but strongly-suggested-you-be-there work at the Big Girl job. new boss shows up late with the breakfast pizza that i was countinng on to Be There when i got to work, and thus avoid another blood sugar meltdown get the scissors away from her incident. it arrived, i ate, and realized how hungover i felt just from being tired and from smiling so much the night before like reverse botox. was scheduled till 11:45, but left at 11, as i remembered the parade traffic. ended up driving all the way to Dewitt, turning around, and attacking the highway through a different route. success. a day at the gallery ends in hysteria - caroline and i go to check out the Free Pile, and find some sort of speaker or radio or machine of some sort, and the manic glee in that girl as she snipped away parts and pieces for me - well, it was worth having to hold back the crowd that gathered to watch! husband spent the day knee deep in hops and cleaning out a room that will Very Soon become his new office. i am happy for him, really really happy. because that means i also get the whole Big Room! I make dinner somehow, and realize i left some of my metal booty at the gallery, bummer. snuggle on the couch around 7-ish. then it is 2am. then it is 7am. so that, my friends, is why this post sounds so cheesy. it will likely take me a few more days to fully process and recover. i was handed an incredible opportunity at the show, which will necessitate big courage of the leaping variety, and i am crazy ready for it! so my apologies for the flatline of a post. i will makke it up to you with pictures very soon, 'kay? now go fix your clocks.

in this life, I still have so much to do. and i feel like i want to grab armfuls and do it all at once...not being able to choose between them...i am grateful beyond words today.

I C U

as in "I see you" but i don't...went to the eye dr last night, and can I pose this question: if they can put a man on the moon, why can't they figure out a way to get your eyeglass prescription without having to depend on me to tell someone if A or B is clearer? C or D? so i will have some spanky new glasses soon (as soon as the Hubble is done with it's magnification lens) but they sent me out the door with a pair of trial contacts ... i am soo excited - they never not ever have my prescription on hand. and that made me smile big. except i can't really see anything nothing i tell you up close, even with "readers." like the keyboard on this computer is very very fuzzy, and if i didn't have a vague familiarity with where some keys are, it would look like this: b829fjdnovn, etc. So, good and bad news. and forget about my phone. feh. no way. it is reduced to an overpriced flashlight right now. but i don't really care much about contacts so all-in-all, it will be fine. i have some incredible news...i asked a friend to ask her niece to manifest something Big and Scary for me. and sometimes Those That Fulfill The Manifest Requests know better than you. Sort of like a Grandma Lana, but more smoke & mirrors. so just the other day, an amazing thing happened, and it was so amazing, and i've been so much a posterchild for mental Red Bull, that it took a full 2 days for me to realize that This was the actual opportunity i wanted for now. So the Grandma Lana diety said, "Feh - you tink you vant, but no- Lana know what you should vant - is goot you like." all i really want is a room of my own. a large, bright, temperature controlled room with a lock on the door. to run rampant, artwise, knowing that i don't have to clean up till i'm ready to, or keep the noise down, unless i want to. and the studio at the Delavan showed me that i actually Need this. but...the affordability question was resolved. but...i didn't want to spend that much time away from my diva, and although there are plenty of don't-ask-don't tell dogs down there, she is not compatible with most things in life, and is not one to keep her muzzle to herself. so when husband mentioned that he was moving his office downstairs, leaving me the Entire 22 x 22 room to myself, i almost cried. well, i actually did a bit. and last night it sunk in that This would be perfect for now. Perfect. the floors were never finished, as the previous (original) owner died (in the kitchen) before completing the room. there are matching throw rugs end-to-end covering the bare plywood underneath. perfect! those bad boys will be gone in a NY minute when we do the Great Move. this will take a bit, because the huge U-shaped desk my husband uses, was actually constructed inside the room, so it must be de-constructed, then re-constructed downstairs. neither one of us has the energy for that right now, but i'm workin' it up baby. so it's a very goot thing yes. i can wwander in and artify whenever i want, and diva can still go out whenever she howls. and we are all together koo koo ka choo. gotta love manifestation. i guess my fear was that my request would become misdirected to the maniNfestation department, and there are plenty enough of them around here as it is. so off to find the shower (hands along the wall) and start the hamster wheel. oh - have i mentioned i have an art show coming up friday? maybe once or twice? i think i'm so excited about this one because i get to sharewith the amazing felter extraordinaire Elizabeth Moldenhauer. she just amazes me with her skill, her creative swerve, and her Self. you just have to meet her, truly. my life is More because i know her. and you will definately want to own one of her pieces, so bring your checkbook. or cash.

Question ...guess Guess who went looking for an errant little piece of artwork Guess and found six of them she forgot and had to run to Loews and have more wood cut and start the whole process of gluing and screwing all over again? Did you guess??

I would like to use this moment to publicly thank Caroleena Szozda with all my heart ...sometimes D-rings are just more than a person can get through, and you should all have someone as wonderful as her in your lives that will sit on the floor and drill and wire many many many paintings. Oh and stay late to do it. Yes..she is all that.

never forget i was here

a sneak peek while paint is drying elsewhere...not a great shot, but a peek...click to enlarge

spring has been a trickster around here...a day or two of comparatively warm weather, then back to cold feet i say "comparatively" because in a few months, our balmy 46 degrees will be cause for curses and innuendos about packing up and moving south. but for now, i'll take the 46 and sunny. the hawks are starting to return, and a few birds that normally winter in Canada have found themselves here for the season, making for a chaotic shuffling for rental space in birdland. geese are honking past in increasingly larger flocks, and you know what that means....trips to the car wash! in a few minutes, i get on with the frame-a-palooza, but wanted to check in and say hey. subtle shiftings in the weather, and in my heart are making this and exciting time. cross your fingers for me - it promises to be a thriller of a ride.

reminder

a week from today (friday 3/11) ... i hope you can make the opening reception for Full Circle, my art show at Szozda Gallery 5-8pm. 501 W. Fayette St - 1 block west of the W. Fayette/West St intersection. Plenty of free parking right at the door! I say "my" art show, but I will be in great good company...none other than uber-felter Elizabeth Moldenhauer will be presenting some her fabulous vessels and wall art! the show is called Full Circle because we originally met at the Delavan Gallery when I had some pieces in their fiber show. you will want to meet her...there is no one in the world like Elizabeth. you will want to be her. Please stop by! if friday doesn't work, the show runs through April 3rd, but i think you'll want to be there friday. in other news, i saw the most beautiful woodpecker the other day as i headed into work...it's red head stood out against all the white snow as it clung to the tree. amazing. i checked my Animal Spirit Guides book and it said: "A storm is brewing, either literally or metaphorically, but have faith - you're protected no matter what....." Then - "you're entering a time of plenty and abundance." Can i get a Hey Yah? in the past week, i've had 4 opportunities for shows or other art-related work. and from some of the most random places and people. and here's the chiller...they all have a thread that stretches back to some event in the past. for instance, 9 years ago (NINE!) i met a woman at the annual Home Show here - a giant show stretching across 3 buildings of the Fairgrounds...vendors packed in with shiny tasty HUGE slabs of marble and vendors with the latest greatest whatever for the home. anyway, in the midst of all this commotion, i am drawn to this woman who has a circle of peacefulness around her. and we chat. i kept trying to leave - didn't want to steal her from her duties hawking countertops, but she keeps drawing me in and chatting. she is an artist / interior designer / business owner, just moved here from NYC, was helping out a friend with their booth since it was so large. i never forgot her, and remember thinking "this is an important moment." didn'tt know why. now i do. she's opened a restaurant with a conference room and wants some art in it. it's very very nice. and who tells me about it but my former boss. threads threads woven and weaving still. sends me 2 interoffice emails - oh the risk of it! other things are popping as well, and i hope to do 3 art festivals with Elizabeth in the coming months. i wish you could meet her. (note to my Squam posse - she made the other Elizabeth's vessel last fall). so - time for the hamster wheel to start spinning - shower, dog walk, work, home, rinse, repeat, and the Great Frame-A-Palooza this weekend! so don't forget...Friday March 11th....

gifties

i swear, even with all the stress & commotion of getting ready for this art show, all i see around me are little gifties...and the attitude of "it's almost my birthday" has sunk down in me deep. it's not almost my birthday, no worries, although a bi-annual event would be fun. just that low-grade excitement that something Good is just around the corner. and it has been. everyday. i asked my Queen to help manifest something into my life. my mental jury is out on the whole "name it and claim it" line of thought, but i do believe that when you want something bad, and you concentrate on that thing, you are giving focus and life to a dream. and that focus guides your actions, whether intentionally or subconsciously, and you find yourself saying "yes" to things that take you steps closer to that goal. then some pixie dust gets mixed in, and BAMMO! there it is. so, not a real scientific way of thinking, but for sure it's logical. and all along this pixie dust-sprinkled path lately, there have been little encouragements and nudges that Yes - now is the time for this...for you. My friend (and oooh that gives me a snuggly feeling to call her "friend")Christine has some artwork with these words on it..."Your wings already exist...all you have to do is fly." and for these many years, i'd look at that and think "lovely." yesterday something caught the edge of my peripheral vision, as i worked yet another spreadsheet. wings. and i said, right out loud, Damn! but it sounded more like "daaay-am" because it was a thoughtful, smiling sort of thing. and i realized the truth in the words for myself. this year i have watched as everyone started every sentence with "in this economy" as if it were a new country called "economy" where everyone lived to the highest mediocrity and talked in hushed tones, and became as amish as possible. we lost our spark of delight. and i also watched as my friend Georgia took flight like a rocket, launching her new book with a VIP event in Chicago, presenting at large & important conventions in DC, watching as she followed her passion of poetry, and as poetry thanked her for her tending of it and paid her bills and watered the garden in her soul. watching her stars align. and my friend Dan - having one thing after the other test him, but he stood firm and kept moving forward, and his art thanked him and paid him back in ways unimaginable "in this economy." and all around me, opportunities opened for me...kindnesses were practically flung at me...studios, teaching, kind words, and kind actions. and some of the best art i've ever made, coming from a wellspring inside me that i never knew existed. from a place, different than it's ever come from before...not from pain or disillusionment or sadness, but from gratitude and possibility and some other spot that refuses to be defined. so you know, i'd like to get an exit visa from this new country of "in this economy," and move past the smoke and mirrors. yes - i am not witless....the economy in this country is hard. very hard. difficult like most of us have never seen before. but i want to shake the attitude that everything needs to be muted and cautious around the edges. i want to continue to dream and be optimistic, and not feel badly for doing so. i want to be able to be aware of, and sensitive to, the fact that some very close to me are struggling financially, but don't want to color my outlook with doom. i want the dreams and sparks within me to glow and light a path. dreams with focus and possibility wrapped around them. and day by day, i see these things being woven in and it would take a complete dolt not to see the gifties being given to me. i accept those gifts, and the ones yet to come, because i see them there - out of the corner of my eye. and those wings fit very nicely.

ok. as you may have picked up on - this has been a stressful week/end. i have been in constant danger of my brains exploding by force through my ears or nasal passages. i have lots and lots to do, but time has been relegated to working for The Man. (i say in jest). i would like to say i am stronger for the experiences i've had the past 3 days, but i am not that good a person. and now i fear the wrath of God for speaking ill of Hobby Lobby. well, Harvey, anyway. but i did make an awesome carrot ginger soup, so i've got that going for me. i picked up the postcards for the show and they are gorgeous Gorgeous! in case my email didn;t reach you, it runs 3/9-4/3 with the reception on 3/11 from 5-8pm. please come. i beg you. i miss you and now can't even email you. i know it's waaay downtown-ish, but i'll tell you a secret if you come. oh - and i'll be wearing my new Secret Lentil dress! so there - it's settled. come to see the dress. and what all the fuss has been about. and maybe fall in love and buy something. i have a secret project i started a bit ago that i can now turn my attention to (well, soon anyway - after the frame-o-rama). i can't wait to show you. as soon as i get email back, since i take the picture with my cameraphone, then email it to myself and save it to my desktop, then post it from there, and the whole procedure depends, you see, on email, which i seem to be without. so okay. enough. time to frame.

just a notification...i am having email issues like crazy. exactly like crazy, actually. they are non-existent on my cool new phone that i bought specifically to get emails, and they are randomly coming in - or not - and out - or not- from my computer. suffice it to say, if you send me an email, and don't get a response, i am not being aloof - i am amish. call me. for now, anyway, i am able to send and receive calls. damn those sun spots.

i am blind with rage at technology. and Harvey. not the invisible rabbit Harvey, but Harvey the very visible and uber-helpful (and odoriferous) frame shop guy at Hobby Lobby. i just JUST wanted some frames, backings, and D-rings for the love of God. but Harvey was intent absolutely finely tuned focused on providing me with the best customer service HL had Ever Seen. and while Harvey is a nice enough man, i'm sure, and while Harvey can whip together frame, matting, backing and wire faster than you can say Mona Lisa, he. does. not. know. jack. about. hanging art in a gallery. And AND will argue his point about using 3M Command sticky strips till your ears bleed, despite the fact that you've said NO 5K times. all this while Old Rugged Cross plays over the loud speaker in a rendition even sadder than the original God intended. when he finally asked what i was going to do with the "pitchur" i was TRYING to frame, i told him it was to be included in an art show. his reply: REALLY? as if to say THIS?! which set my teeth grinding, my insecurities screaming HA HA and my Timbos tuning up for a boot up Harvey's ass. every cell in my body wanted to yell STEP OFF, Harvey, STEP OFF, and flee what was beginning to feel like a social experiment with hidden cameras. give me the goddamn kool aid and put me out of my misery already, i think. then felt bad for thinking "goddamn" while the Old Rugged Cross was playing and Harvey was sweating & purple in the face and really really needed an Old Spice stick for his pits. somehow, unasked and unwanted, he slapped together 3 frames with backing and wire, but no pitchur inside. no glass. and no Command strip. STEP OFF HARVEY. and he reminded me maaany times that it was his day off, and he wasn't really there. if only. but he meant well, somewhere in that socially retarded head of his. he meant well. all this after having Mobile Medic at my house at 10am to collect bodily fluids and ask all manner of personal questions of me (in front of my stepson). apparently the insurance company doesn't think i am worth as much dead as i think i should be worth. there was just something horribly creepy about handing over a clear plastic cup filled with urine to a woman who i think was a nun at some time. at my dining room table. just wrong. feh. all this hullaballoo and i still have to finish painting some cradled frames and gluing up a bunch more that husband cut for me. i fell asleep on the couch for 2 hours, no doubt in attempt to put myself out of my own misery. alas, i awoke. and decided to print out my grocery list from the handy wegmans site that categorizes everything by aisle for you and adds menu items and is The coolest tool yet. but the printer is having an identity crisis, and won't print. maybe it's a toaster now, who knows. maybe tomorrow we'll see if it can fly. but i am angry and ready to go amish. i have a printer that won't print, a swervy new phone that i bought for email purposes that won't send or receive email, a framer that tried to kill me with blood pressure, and a nun at my table asking for pee pee. to quote Nancy Kerrigan, "WHHHHHYYYY?" i am moving to amish country. believe it.

holy macarena has it been a busy week...trying to finish up the last of the pieces for the show (reception 3/11 5 pm - please come!!) and still recovering somewhat from last weekend. was it just last weekend?? i'm still kanoodling and finagling about the full-time studio thing. part of me says Yes, part says No. i like having my supplies close at hand, should the inspiration hit, and with a fulltime Big Girl job, i'd only get there twice a month or so. so the "no" seems to be the voters favorite right now. i've been sooo tired lately too - left work early on thursday and came home and just dove for the pillow. a good choice. this winter has sucked the vavoom out of me. so far i've avoided the really low lows that dog me in the winter, but i've also beared up and hibernated most of it. there's something weird going on with my email too, so if you've emailed me in the past 2 days - i haven't gotten it. just so you know. lovin the droid. PSD got an iPhone and i think they're pretty equal, other than the ease of downloading music. i don't mind carrying an ipod though. my thoughts of a small New Hampshire apartment have pretty much dissolved. last weekend taught me that i need more community than it would afford. i tend to see myself as a loner (not the creepy, stalker serial killer loner - just quieter and not so social), and envisioned day after day uninterupted by obligation and chatter and irritations. but i saw that i have strong urges of creativity till around noon, but then need to chat chat chat for a few hours. that wouldn't be quite as do-able in seclusion. although. plus there's the whole "work" issue. how do people do it?? nothing spectacular going on, as you can tell by the high volume of posts. just checking in to let you know i'm still alive and well. as usual, i have to go clean up kitty vomit. and it's only 5:15am. just an ordinary day. may your day be vomit-free.

it all started friday morning...early....way early...before the sun early...everything was assembled and waiting for me, having horsed & hauled it thursday night....my heaven: let the giggling commence. here is the building - or at least my view of 1/3 of it... it's a horseshoe shaped old factory. old. the patinaed wooden floors roller coaster and tilt as you creak your way down the halls...door after door, left and right, artists ensconced within, conversing with their muses - sometimes loud & angry, sometimes in reverent silence, sometimes as music plays...i watch the sun rise from the large windows at the end of my warren, and realize there are tears spilling over...gratitude gratitude. now - to address some blank canvases. where to start?? let's take a look at those materials, first... all morning long, a voice tumbled through my head - insistent ABSOLUTELY insistent to be heard "Don't drop your keys! don't drop your keys!" and i was pretty sure Someone was trying to tell me something other than keeping good watch over my keys. but what? as is my practice, i stood a short distance from the workspace & said a prayer of gratitude for the space & time to create, and asked that creativity flow through me for a productive day. as i bowed in respect to my workspace, my eye fell on a bright yellow book gifted me for christmas, Hafiz! i opened it to a random page and stuck my finger down...and i SWEAR to you this is the truth...the poem was called Dropping Keys. (page 206 if you don't believe me). well, nothing sparked me there, so i glanced to the right hand page, and there, there it was..."All the talents of God." "All the talents of God are within you," reads the first line. i didn't make it past that... a shiver and a great stretching smile later, i was busy at the table. i'd give you a peek, but blogger has suddenly (again) decided to be a bad child and not download pictures, so i'll try again later. but in the few moments i have left before starting the rat race, let me say that i made some of the best art of my life, and learned some crazy cool things about myself, and being cloistered and being creative and being social. more on that later, but well, well, blogger came out to play, so here's peek...not done yet, but almost... i came home each night unable to speak, i was so tired. my legs feel like concrete poles from standing so long...i went to bed by 8pm each night and slept immediately. i have never drank so much water in my life. i loved every second of every minute in every day i was there. the challenges, the ghosties, the moments of unbridled creativity...all of it. as i packed everything up, i had those 2 hours to just say thank you thank you over and over. now swept clean, studio 261 is ready for the next creative voice...a bow in thankful gratitude...and close the door quietly, and yes, hook my keys onto my beltloop.

funny what a big empty room can do to you...

no pictures, sorry - blogger is misbehaving. i will re-emerge tomorrow, and try again to upload, but know this: i am exhausted i am filled to the brim i am making some of the best art of my life i am exhausted i have found community and communion i have Never. Ever. been more grateful to a human. i am exhausted. i am giddy. i am authentic within myself. i do not want to leave this studio ever. i have found a home for my spirit to rest and also to explode forth. i have only just begun.

i have just spent 40 precious minutes trying to download pictures of the studio and the work created there yesterday...it is not going to happen this morning. but i promise it will. because it has been nothing short of life-changing. and i know it's all new and swervy and cool, and i know that if i had a full time studio and could spend 11-teen hours a day in it, it would resemble a cell block rather than a slice of heaven plunked down here for me. i get that. (liar) but for these three days...oh my god. yesterday i arrived at 5:30am, got the door open to the building (no small feat - jiggle the key, turn this thing.) and there was a loud alarm going off, the handle on my heavy hamper-ish thingie with all my heavy stuff broke, and i had 2 flights of stairs to lug all this up because the freight elevator was waaay to creepy. and after heaving and horsing the stuff up there, and stuffing my lungs back inside my chest cavity, and wiping the sweat from , well, most of my body, it was 80-degrees in the room ...and you know what? i was grateful for every second of all of that. every second. and i sat there in that dark building (of which i have pictures stuck somewhere) and cried. tears of immeasurable gratitude and tears of thankfulness, and the kind of tears that come when there is a big thing percolating in you and it's still tissue paper thin and needs a moment to conjure itself to form, and the brain tells the eyes to turn on the faucet so you'll stay put just a few minutes more. and think. and feel. and breathe. and become just a teensy bit bigger than you were a moment before. just like that. in a soft, quiet flash. better, changed. and i know this all sounds melodramatic - i mean, it's a big empty room is all, right? but it took this big, empty room to fill my big, empty room - the space where art should have front & center...the space where i, once again claim art as my Self. the day was unusual....50-degree weather had people out in shorts and shirtsleeves...the sun was brilliant. all this added to the fantastical nature of it. today - 27 and snow and 40+ mph winds. gotta love syracuse! okay - i'm off to the studio....i only have 3 days and don't want to spend it in front of this box, no matter how much i love you. i'll try for pictures again ...later!

this week...

a little bit of this peeked out (along with my fat little hawk who stopped in to say hello)... still quite a bit of this.... And now - off to my studio... I picked up the keys last night, and hauled, jostled, shoved and horsed (what felt like) every art supply i own. it's like going on vacation somewhere new, right? what to bring?? i might need this or this or this...just bring it all. i wish i could take you along...it's in an ancient old factory...huge...i think 5 stories, but i'll count for sure. freight elevator with the metal grate that you have to lift up...push the button inside and hold it to make it move - line up the painted stripes on the wall outside and the wall inside the "box" to be sure you've stopped it at floor level....creaky worn velvety wooden floors that have been patched and propped throughout the years,,,a little soft spot there, like a roller coaster ride on foot - no even polished hallways here! snaking through hallways and alleyways upstairs, passing studio displays of art outside locked doors bursting with creativity inside...a wisp of music from somewhere...smell of turpentine and cigarettes - someone's been up all night...hundreds of doors, it seems...then - mine. unlock...huge old windows face me from the other end of the room...i can't wait to see the sunrise from them. i can't sit here any longer - time to grab a coffee and get to the room! updates to follow...save the date, by the way...March 9 show opening, with reception 3/11 ...more to follow about that.

just popping in to say hello...it has been a busy few days. and yes - i did say a FREE stdio for 3 days. i feel so grown up and authentic! i'll have to dust off my beret. i went to the art supply store last night to get some supplies so i can just lock myself in and create. my intention is to get there early early friday morning, dump my collage papers on the floor & get to it. it will be so nice to see everything out in the open, rather than have to dig to the bottom of the huge sterlite tub like a fishing expedition. so save the dates: the show opens March 9th, with the official reception on Friday March 11. very exciting things happening this month for a lot of people! and i'm so incredibly excited to do this show with my friend, the amazingly talented fiber artist Elizabeth Moldenhauer! the show is called "Full Circle" because we met at this gallery a few years ago when i had my fiber show, and now we're doing a show together there. in between, we became fast friends. and i have to say - even if you hate art shows, come to this one just to meet her. she is Just So All That. she has such a beautiful fragrance of love surrounding her. she makes you want to be a better person, just by being around her. okay - so it's very early and i need coffee...diva kept me up half the night with her warnings about monsters under the bed. and after the recent arrest of a man in the nearby neighborhood, i get a little freaked out when i'm alone. ya think you know someone. so i'm wishing you a fantastic day with many good secret surprises!

and the winner is:

ME! tell her what she's won Bob: A free studio for 3 days!! whoo hoo!!!

it's been an eventful week here in the 'burg. some incredible highs and some incredible lows. PSD's puppy died after a huge mistake in a routine veterinary surgery. the details are heartbreaking, as you can imagine, and will stay off this page. today i spent the wee hours elbow deep in Payne's Gray, as i tried to conjure forth a grand idea that visited my brain last night. it sure doesn't look anything like i planned (as usual) and that's pretty good - now i get a two-fer....the one i made, and the one i imagined, and can still make. not wanting to leave the studio, and get distracted by SALE signs, i sent husband on a mission to the art store to buy some glass etching stuff. (it was by the hunting coat store, so it was a win-win). then spent an hour trying to free a pane of glass from a frame so i could cut the size i need. so very careful. gentle gentle. it came free. i took it to my new metal shop area of the garage and started cutting...to no avail. the glass cutter thing wasn't making that screeeeech noise it should. and it was then i realize...DUH...it was plexi. dang doh dumb. so i did what any self-respecting person in my position would do - called the gallery owner to chat. and guess what? in our conversation about ants and glass, she said there is a 4-foot high stack of glass windows in a secret place! vintage. shhhhhwing! funny how things happen. so me & my glass cutter have a date. me & moto have come to an understanding - it won't ring at work (HELLO MOTO!!!) and i won't download Japanese porn apps. which is what 45% of the "thousands of free apps" are. for real, my friends. and if you have too heavy of a touch as you glide the app menu up, the wrong one gets selected and it's a whole new way of thinking about Hello Kitty. gawd. and seriously? do we need that mobile-ized? so i'm off to snuggle the diva for a few. only pulled 3 ways this weekend, so it seems odd. enjoy...summer is only 4 months away!

you are the...

the lesson of the ant

(Yes...3 posts today...read slow...it may be a while before the next one.) last week, on the phone with the gallery owner where my March show will be, as i bemoaned the fact that my collage work had more suck-wattage per square inch, and with all respect she must be blind or an incredibly compassionate idiot to schedule a show with my work in it, yes, while on the phone with below-zero temperatures outside, in the dead of winter, i turned to look at my ipod for some reason and saw it: an ant. an ANT. and i stopped my ugly-cry, snot-dripping rant/mea maxima culpa and said, "What The Hell...an ANT. in my studio." this must be a sign. so i grabbed my Animal Spirit Guides book to tremulously look up Ant, figuring it must be a sign that seeing an ant tells you to trust your instinct, put down the art materials and go work in a factory somewhere hitting the same nail with the same hammer all day every day, thus leaving choices and options and creativity to those better equipped to deal with a difficult life. all that. but no...it says (and i quote): "It's time to get to work on that project that you've been thinking about and see it through to completion. seek support from your closest friends and family rather than isolating yourself. trust that you'll succeed in accomplishing your dreams. (Can I get a witness) (my interjection in parenthesis). be patient with yourself, those around you, and with any work projects with which you're involved." Jesus, Mary and the Jetsons...holy moly. so i wiped the snot off my face, hung up on Sweet Caroleena, and went back to the studio, reinvigorated, and trusting that God would not allow me to humiliate myself in such a public way. again. although my daily life is pretty much for the amusement of Someone, i had confidence from this ant that this would not be an occasion to fuck with me. fast forward a week. it is today. i am up to my armpits in alligators, all snapping at my confidence today...i am wishing for a hole to open in the earth on the exact spot where i stand so i can just sink into the lava and be done done done with the torment of thinking i can pull this show off. and...a little ant creeps up to my Vat Orange wash on my paper palette and maybe is going to drink a little. NO! i say. and try to save him from certain death. he is my last hope, is how critically close to that place where one minute you're painting, the next you're talking to ants and toasters and putting tinfoil over your windows. and i rush into the bathroom and get a dixie cup of water. trying to think quick - i need to divert him, yet not drown him. i put a drop of clean water on the worktable and scooch him toward it. he sticks his little nose thing in it, drinks a little, cleans his legs and antennae, then starts walking away...leaving a little trail of vat Orange behind him. a reminder. and after all we have been through, i may have accidentally NOT ON PURPOSE i swear, accidentally knocked him onto the floor after he crawled off the table and onto my shirt. i don't know for sure, i was moving fast and painting and schmutzing this about. but he disappeared. so i wonder if he'll take back all that encouragement? like, he'll be all "what the hell?? i came here to help, and you take what you need from me and slam me 20 stories to the ground?" perhaps i'm reading into this a little too much.

worth a 2nd look

Who does she thinks she is?

hello moto

in the middle of blizzard conditions last night, i did something that i think will save me many hours a week...yes, i broke down and bought a droid phone. i have needed to be pulled, pushed, dragged into technology like a cat headed for a bath. i do not Do Not like the sight of people texting, surfing, and otherwise engaging with their electronic so-called life, when there's a perfectly good human sitting across from them. i don't allow cell phones at my dinner table, and no one answers the landline while we're eating. that's what voice mail is for. on vacation, the phones go in the hotel room safe. however, i have a minimum of an hour's worth of face time with my computer when i get home...time better spent making art for my upcoming show which has me freaked out because of course i have entered the "imposter syndrome" phase of creation...time better spent scratching the tummy of a little furbaby (or two). and by coincidence, i have an hour at lunchtime that is relatively free. so i will put that time to better use, and check emails, visit blogs, do banking, etc, and be able to come home with a few extra minutes to enjoy the FurLove i have waiting to greet me with tail wagging. managing obligations=less guilt. and boy, can i hang onto guilt. it may take me a year to figure out how to use this phone...er...mobile device, but there is that hope. so, now, as the sun tries to peek out through the dense snow clouds that dumped Many Feet of snow on us last night, i am headed to hug a diva, tickle a kitten, and Go Make Art because i hate everything i have prepared for my show in 4 weeks. no matter how embarrassing the work may be, i personally, will look good in my spanky new dress tunic thing from Secret Lentil. i worship at the serger of Helen Carter. who knew? UPDATE: I know Pat wonders "how much snow, by the way?" well, it's about plow-guy- stuck-in-a-snowbank deep. i'd take a picture, but it seems cruel. it's get-a-taller-dog deep. it's there-goes-the-garage-roof deep. yes. snowapalooza has come to my home venue.

an open letter to my job

i got an email from Brian Andreas' StoryPeople today, and it. just. was. spot. on. I am grateful for the income my job provides, especially after looking at The Perfect Studio space today. Perfect in every way. Perfect. and only $391 per month seperates me from this beautifully perfect space across the hall from a new friend who's work i've admired for so so long. perfect. and diva could come there with me. perfect. and i could hum and saw and grind and paint and splash at any time of day or night. perfect. except...in order to pay for it, i have to work. if i work, i wouldn't see much of it. so i came home with that particular chinese handcuff wrapped around my heart, wondering how other people do it? how? do they have other people supporting them? some, yes. others no. then how? how do you ask someone, "so how do you afford to not work and own a car and an apartment/house and travel and live like i do except i spend 2/3 of my life making someone else's dream come true?" and not to sound snarky. because i meant what i said about being grateful for employment and i don't begrudge anyone anything. i truly want to know the nuts and bolts and dollars and cents of it all. and in this swirling vortex of thoughts, i opened my email to this: I don't know how long I can do this, he said. I think the universe has different plans for me & we sat there in silence & I thought to myself that this is the thing we all come to & this is the thing we all fight & if we are lucky enough to lose, our lives become beautiful with mystery again & I sat there silent because that is not something that can be said.

so i saw this beautiful cake on the world wide web last week and emailed a picture to PerfectStepDaughter, who agreed that we should make this cake this weekend. being ever cautious in the kitchen, i thought it might just be easier to buy cake mixes and leave the fun part to the frosting and decorating. today was the day, but alas - PSD had something she had to do, so we;d wait till another time. but darn it, i wanted to make the cake...i could see the looks of awe on everyone's face as this beautiful cake was presented. what could be simpler? plus, i had about $60 worth of ingredients - including a can of frosting that came with 5 interchangeable tips that i was just dying to use. so i baked and did laundry, like a good housewife. soon, as the layers cooled, a furrow crossed my brow...Hey, I thought to myself...these cakes look waaaay too tall, and the cake itself waaaay too big to fit in my fridge. (i should know by now, after the famous birthday cake rodeo)but aaaaanyway. the cake is cooling, and i'm getting suspicious. and what is that i hear? Air 1. the sheriff dept helicopter flying over my house. for real. around and around. lights all over my house. and i'm thinking Betty Crocker must have called the damn police on me, that's what's happened here. and the cake is Ugly ugly ugly. and i try to slice it in half through the middle and parts fall all over and the strawberry layer cracks in half and the whole mess is just a mess. but maybe i can cover it with frosting. i have 2 kinds...whipped cream with strawberries folded in by hand (to secure the layers together), and cream cheese which has been tinted my favorite color pink. and the cream cheese just makes the top crumble up and the helicopter is flying over and the lady at 911 said to stay in but the dog really really has to pee and finally my husband comes home from the rehabber and i tell him what's going on, and as i turn to ask him to hold the chocolate layer, he's bolting upstairs to grab his holster and gun mofo hillbilly that he is and i'm running through the house with a layer of chocolate cake balanced in my hand and the cat ran in front of me and i'm yelling at the husband to put down his weapon and stay inside like 911 said and stop being a dork and help me make this cake. and his adrenaline is all jacked up and the dog has to pee. the cake is still ugly. i know the husband has to get past me with my mad on and knives handy, if he wants to get outside, so i am sure he's in for a while. i manage to construct the layers and by now, with the helicopter circling and the dog whining and the husband muttering about night vision goggles, i am just done with this cake, which i cannot even eat, being all sugar and whatnot. so, below, you will see the wretchedness of my attempt. scroll back up to see the pretty one...now...the fruits of my labor: is it any wonder i haven't slit my own wrists? update: it is dark o'clock monday morning. it appears no lottery win has saved me this weekend. i am exhausted. i am a hater, this morning, and would list the things i hate, but am too tired. the #1 thing is that i hate that i have to be awake this early today after listening to the helicopter and Rambo till 11:30, 12 o'clock last night, and then hear my alarm at 5am. maybe today i can rest my head on that gel thing that you rest your wrists on when typing. i will make every effort to find my real life soon. it is most likely under the pile of laundry that didn't get done in all the excitement. Linda

this is totally ripped off

i stumbled on this post this morning, and completely ripped it off from another blog. not my usual practice, but the. words. pierced. me. To The Core. and i think you'd like them also...without further ado, from Izabella's Blue, who was actually quoting from Sean Mantack : Have you had enough of feeling stuck in a rut. Are you ready to break free from the self imposed chains that are binding you? Are you sick and tired of having your greatness held hostage? Well in that case what are you waiting for, an invitation to get unstuck? The only person that can get you unstuck is you. I can give you the key to getting unstuck, (action) but it is you who will have to turn the key in the lock (and take action) otherwise nothing will change. So what are you waiting for? If you spent as much time taking action as you do worrying about being stuck in a rut you wouldn't be stuck in a rut, you would be too busy living the life that you always dreamed about. "Fear and apprehension are not conducive to the mindset required to induce success." That antidote is action. You must stop feeling overwhelmed by all the choices that you have and decide on a course of action and then take steps towards a positive outcome. It is always better to walk 5 miles in the wrong direction than it is to sit on your ass hoping for help to come to you. God helps those that help themselves. If you want to break free from the self imposed chains that are keeping you stuck in your rut, then there is no time like the present for you to take action and get yourself unstuck. Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today. Don't you think you have wasted enough time feeling fearful and apprehensive about the future? Don't you think that its time that you said “enough is enough?” Don't you think its time that you started living the life that you always dreamt of? Don't you think that life has more to offer you than the feeling of being stuck in a rut? Action is the key that will set you free from the self imposed shackles that have been holding you back and keeping your greatness held hostage. Put the key to good use, take action and get yourself unstuck. ~Sean Mantack ~ http://www.stuck-in-a-rut-coaching.com Dude - 'nuff said

the sun is shining! oh yeah! colder than cold out, still, but it looks nice and that's a plus. it's the kind of day when you make plans to go xc skiing because you just want to be surrounded by sun and balsam smells and wildlife. then you open the door to let a little dog out, and say Uh Oh, What have i done? yeah, that kind of tricky day. and it's getting close to lunchtime, and you're in your sweats, with your hands covered in gel medium and cadmium red and nickel azo something, and you realize that you have a show in 1 month (the shortest month of course) and you don't have anything ready so now you're torn between spending a day in art immersion which will only lead to that pathetic frustration when you can't make art because you HAVE to, or living up to the decision you made to go xc skiing by god because you brought it up to your husband and you haven't done anything together but argue for 3-10 years. yeah. that kind of day. and plus you ran into your friend the wildlife rehabber who is desperate for help because her barn is stuffed literally to the rafters with hawks and eagles and all manner of emaciated 4-legged creatures of God that have been brought to her to heal...yes even squirrels. god bless their sharp-toothed little hearts. ah well. shower. ski. i'll feel better for both. and maybe a little wildlife kindness afterwards.

a primer on depression

let me say a few (yeah right) words about depression...now, when i'm in the clear, and can think about it rationally, as opposed to when the heavy cement of it holds me down. depression is not sadness, although you can feel sad. but not always. it isn't something that you can motivate yourself out of, or happy-gratitude think your way out of. it isn't laziness. it isn't boredom. it isn't something that a few yoga poses and an hour of journaling will snap. and although those things are good practices to have, and i enthusiastically engage in them from time to time, depression comes at you despite your work against it. and to say it comes at you isn't really my experience - not a front-on shock-and-awe thing that you can dodge and weave your way around with Jackie Chan Karate Kid moves. (i love Jackie Chan!) my experience with depression is that i feel the molasses lethargy of it commandeer my brain...the effort to just get out of bed is more than can be physically mustered. it isn't the blues...more like the "clears" because it invades every corner of my life, and i can't see it. there is a pointlessness to everything...nothing brings pleasure - not talks with friends, not the kisses of a little furball, not even artmaking. in fact, the effort of getting art supplies out is sometimes on par with asking me to repaint the Brooklyn Bridge in a weekend. it is a life suck...you lose days, weeks, even months at a time. and it looks different on everyone - some people can outwardly function through their daily obligations of work & family, and you'd never guess that there is nothing but an empty shell in front of you. their mind has gone rogue, as Danny Evans says. there is a disconnect between physically living your life and feeling anything. so it isn't so much a sadness for me, as it is a complete wipe of the motherboard - a robotic response to life around me with no oompah-pah behind it. i hid my depression for years. terrified of it. i hid behind being the comedian - if i could make people laugh, and laugh with them, then i must be okay, right? oh, and rules. i had strict ways of doing things...mostly so i could actually do something - ok, the alarm goes off, and first you go pee, then you feed the dog, then get coffee, etc etc. Sort of a rigid one-foot-in-front-of-the-other ballet of desperation. then i realized the comedy lie, and became serious, and that didn't work - wasn't me...i am naturally given to finding the humor in humorless situations. the Dixie Chicks have a song Hello Mr. Heartache, which describes it in part: Hello Mr. Heartache I've been expecting you. Come in and wear your welcome out Like you always do. You never say if your here to stay or just passing through etc and for people who "suffer from depression" as the ads say, when things are good, you're always looking out the corner of your eye for that attack...gauging if it's a good time to see a sad movie, or will that trigger a freefall into the black hole. you often don't trust yourself with big decisions...wondering if it's being made with a twinge of the beginnings of a bad run. there's been a lot of research on depression, mostly sponsored by big pharma. and yes, there is a time and place for chemical intervention. it does not make you a weak person. i solidly refused for 20 years to partake in that avenue of relief, till finally i had to for many reasons, none the least was i had to in order to prove my unfitness for duty at my job and be able to take disability leave. you can't see depression - "they" needed to see i really meant it. and it worked well. there were side effects that need to be measured very thoughtfully against the good the drugs can do. i can't stress that enough. weight gain is one of the secrets they hold up their sleeve, so be prepared. but the point of all this rambling so early in the morning is this: if you have a friend or partner who has tussles with depression, don't be offended if you can't "cheer them up," if they don't take your advice, if they cancel appointments and dinner dates...know that they are fighting as hard as they can to run clear of this mental state, and it's like running through waist-deep freshly poured cement. but keep the connections open, listen to them ramble on the phone, or hold them when they cry. your question, "what's wrong?" is well intentioned, thoughtful, and even loving. but there is no answer. and often, giving advice will only serve to make the person feel that if they don't take the advice, then you will become fed up and leave them. and you may be the last tendril linking them to reality. i write this to tell someone very special to me that i do understand, and i am not growing impatient...i will always be by your side...there is nothing that you can do to change that...and there will always be my hand gripping yours to keep you from hitting the bottom...in these promises you can have absolute assurance. for everyone else reading, thank you for your patience here today - a personal email to my friend would not have been the same as pronouncing my positions on the www .

i can't speak. go here. ok. talk amongst yourselves. think of a topic.

so it's 2am. the hunt must be going well. i haven't heard an update since 8pm when a phone call from a very loud place with hillbilly music and Texas Hold 'Em going on told me he'd be a little later than planned. which it already was by a few hours. feels like a defining moment to me.

a saturday 2-fer

update. it is 3:21 pm and i have accomplished: zip nada nuthin da nada nope well, except for getting stew into the slow cooker (makes it sound like i just poof do this all the time...Hold on - let me throw a stew together), followed by an extended nap. with diva all tucked around me. (she learned "drop it" today! i'm so proud). the heater thingie wouldn't stay on in the garage, so there was no hope of working out there soldering and grinding (sounds sexual), so as i malingered on the couch thinking i should switch things up and collage today and torch tomorrow, i napped. quite longer than i wanted, but apparently just as long as my body wanted. this CFS is frustrating. while i slept, though, i was quite productive. i realized my chosen word for the year (legacy) was depressing and awkward, and not really The Word. so, finally given the space and peace it needed, my brain released the Real Word: wholehearted. i love this word. i embrace this word. in a wholehearted way, even. this word and I have a history. i was given a special special gift earlier this year (or was it late last year??) that included having a question (just ONE) answered by an intuitive counselor. i asked a broad question that didn't include a specific area of my life (to get the biggest bang for my buck, i guess). i erased any hint of my identity from the response to the invitation...no last name to google, no signature including my blog address, etc. i was just "Linda." and gawd she nailed it. the artist thing, everything. and said that this is the time i should live wholeheartedly. she said that word, wholehearted. and it stayed with me, as did the essence of her reply. (although i have her entire reply in my desk drawer, lest i become half-hearted.) And the word and it's essence have, in turn, wafted at me on a continual, perfumed, loving, gentle basis, bee balming my spirit and pushing me to break through the habit of half-heartedness. because it is a choice. all in all, that was quite a nap, eh? and it's been a semi-amish day, with the only electronics being this computer, and the crock pot. oh and coffeemaker. but no tv blaring or lulling the mind, no radio, ipod, walkman, 8-track player...no sounds. very restful. and it's nice to be able to spend a day with my thoughts and intentions, where intuitions can come to the surface and grow a bit, and artwork has a chance to seed a bit. no, i think today has been spent exactly as it was intended to be spent...not a wasted day...nothing much outwardly productive - except for the stew which has 3 more hours before it can be declared a hit or a miss- but plenty of inward productivity. a return to gentle wholeheartedness. rather than the crazed, scheduled, minute-by-minute checklist of a day like it has been. sidebar story: one time i had food poisoning...For Real...the whole vomit / passing out / kill me now or call an ambulance kind. and while i sat with a needle of some dripping clear stuff in my arm at the ER, the health department person came with a clipboard, asking me if i could try really really hard to remember where i had eaten and what i had eaten. imagine her surprise when i could list it all for the past week, in detail, and would've gone back further, but there was no need. i am a creature of habit. and boundaries. and during that period of my life, i ate the same thing for breakfast, ate at the same restaurant for lunch, and dinner was pretty much soup or nothing. not big on dinner. so i have been approaching my life of late in much the same way: wake up by 5am, fill coffee mug, feed cat, feed dog, shower, make breakfast-to-go (peanut butter & banana sandwich), get dressed, walk dog, be to work by 7:30-ish. etc ad nauseum. not what the word "wholehearted" brings to mind. but it can be. the entire sequence can be done with a grudging heart or a grateful heart. and that's where the secret of wholeheartedness starts. it isn't about rock climbing and BASE diving and starring naked in a broadway musical (just checking to see if you're awake on that last one). it's about living your choices fully, i think. and also not letting those things in your life that are beyond your control try to control your reaction to the life you have. what if this is your moment to shine? what if it is this very moment? is my heart full enough to accept the gift that will be placed in it? have the corners been swept clean? is the best china on the table in my heart? will the gift that comes to me get cruddy and tarnished as it enters, or will it feel welcome and take root and grow beautifully? that's wholehearted for me. going about the mundane and everyday stuff in a grateful manner, giving it my all. done. my new word fits. and so it is.

let me start by setting the scene: it is so cold today that even looking out the window at the frozenness will cause the fluid in your cornea to freeze, and your eyes will crumble and fall from their sockets. we didn't get the snow that was expected (2 feet) but that's a broken promise i can live with. but it's still early. and on this day, a day so cold that not 1 living thing should be outside, my husband and his BFF are going hunting. small game. why animals are called "game" when they're being hunted is as repugnant to me as the fact that he may, for effect, bring his best work home. i will be changing the locks. anyway. a more suspicious wife would be concerned that there are no open seasons at this time, and that perhaps they are going to partake of the North country women who will do anything to stay warm this time of year, or *gasp* the southern tier women who will do anything to score some Aspen Dental. but i am not that suspicious wife. and if i was, my fears would be put to rest as husband, BFF and BFF's cousin sat around my dining room table this morning having a pre-hunt Man Meal with enough cholesterol to plug a drainage pipe...talking guns and ammo and who's going to take what. thus fortified by eggs, hash, bacon, testosterone and GoreTex, they loaded up the Escalade for the suburban version of drive-by shootings. i don't like hunting. won't eat the "spoils" of the hunt. this being said, i am fully aware that there are people who rely on hunting as their food source. i get it. i watch Air Alaska, and know that a moose can keep a village alive through an entire winter. but we are not in Alaska (despite the temperatures). we are in Baldwinsville, not Barrow. the sun rises and sets here on pretty much a 12-hour-ish cycle. there are no 7-month days or nights. and the only northern lights we see is the mall named after them. Northern Lights Mall. we have Wegmans - a grocery store to beat any other grocery store. evah. want tea? there are aisles of tea. just picking out rice can take an hour. fresh fish, fresh cheese, in-store bakery, deli, meal coaches and recipes...it is an endless, dizzying cornucopia of ways to buy and prepare food. and they will even cook it for you, for God's sake. so we are blessed with more grocery stores per mile than Alaska has in the entire state. we have no need to hunt for food here in Baldwinsville. but, some hillbilly's made the unfortunate choice to live here, rather than Alaska, and every so often, their primal urges overcome their compassion for frolicking woods-animals, gathering dinner, smelling flowers, eating bark, and generally just doing whatever it is that they were put here to do. i do not buy the "thinning of the herd because of depleted food sources" argument one little bit. so who decides? why not plant crops for them to eat, instead. and the game that's to be hunted? today's pick - squirrel. do i need to rant about this? is it not clearly obvious that 1) it would seem to take a lot of squirrels to make a meal, should one actually decide that this is their true and deepest reason for the day's activity. 2) the thought of a meal of squirrel makes me want to stop here and go vomit. 3)i love squirrels. 4) there are too many other reasons and i'll just get tired thinking of them. i have lit a candle and said a prayer to God asking him to warn the squirrels. and all this, despite my close encounter with the razor sharpness of their teeth, and their general spoiled child attitude about life. (you may remember my adventures with bottle-feeding the baby squirrels at the rehabbers, when one of those little tree rats nearly decapitated 2 of my best fingers. quickly and surgically. Bam. blood everywhere. scream of pain stuck so deep in my throat it came out as a squeak. cute squirrel became hungry, flying squirrel, as my instinctive reactions won out over animal safety and compassion just ever so briefly. i vowed never not ever again to get that close to anything with teeth that can fell a tree.) and i have hope that the squirrels are just that much smarter than the hunters, and the only fatalities will be those that laughed themselves to death at the thought/site of all this madness in their woods. these grown men, all camo'd, stinking of bacon grease and B.O....and incidentally - wearing green camo, which is not the color of the season anywhere in these parts. i don't think nature will be fooled for a NY minute. and why not cans? just go set up cans somewhere and shoot them? ahhh. because there has to be a purpose to getting up this early, eating a load of greasy food which will, no doubt, cause some desperate moments in the freezing woods, oh, in about another hour. why do men need these reasons to gather? poker, fishing, hunting, bowling? why not just hang out? have some coffee...talk about their feelings..."she's such a bitch...she actually took my Tom Petty poster down from the livingroom wall! yes that one - where he's looking right at the camera! how much more hurt can i be expected to endure??" nope. men gotta rustle up grub, fill their hands with ammo, and head on out to shoot something. (in fairness, i speak only of these men that were in my diningroom. and others like them. not ALL men. because i have known men that aren't at all like this. and not all of them were gay, as my husband would think). (or liberals - his second category of pidgeon-holing). but ANYway...today i am supposed to be making necklaces for the gallery. and yet here i ramble and procrastinate. why? it is darn cold in the garage where i need to do this work. somehow the thought of smoking solder and a creme brulee torch in the house - in my hands - is more than Allstate will insure. but you know, i'm thinking that the smell of the bacon grease will cover any smoky solder smell, so i'm thinking of grabbing the UL rated fire extinguisher and torching away. the worst that could happen is i'd get a new kitchen out of the settlement, should anything untoward occur. and i won't have to fire up the propane heater and sniff those fumes. hmmm. but the tought of a lazy, curled up day on the couch with a good book sounds just about right, too. i have a stack of them: The Gifts of Imperfection, by Brene Brown, and Rage Against The Meshuganah, by the Dad Gone Mad blogster Danny someone. which is hysterical. hysterical. i read his blog, www.dadgonemad.com from time to time, and it never fails to make me pee my pants. so the book will be a bathroom read. okay - i'm starting to feel guilty for not making jewelry. a sure sign that i'm about to get desperate for procrastinationable stories and linger here well past my stale date. so, pray for the squirrels. wear warm socks. and always keep a loaded fire extinguisher handy.

a little housekeeping...the horse is making good recovery...thank you all for your thoughts and prayers and emails...sheesh - when i had the flu and was certain just positive that i would expire at any moment, yes, then, i didn't get as many people concerned. it continues to be an ongoing guessing game as to what the problem is, but the ulcer thing seems to be #1 on the list. yes, i said ulcer. what, i ask you, WHAT does a horse have to be so worried about that it would get an ulcer? does it have spreadsheets? nope. ummm, in-laws? nope. any other worries, stress, concerns? to be fair, maybe. never been a horse. but geez. hunh? so onto a new topic. 10 years ago, i was forced to watch American Idol as a mandatory part of my radio job. now THAT would give a person an ulcer. it was like eating brussel sprouts at a friend's house - you had to choke 'em down and then pretend to like them. but. sigh. it soon became something. yes. that i looked forward to. okay there - i said it. then i continued to watch it so i'd have something to share with PerfectStepDaughter. so anyway, the new season started last night. new judges. including Steve Tyler. Steve Tyler. yes. now, i would be just as happy if they just had him sit there for 2 hours - just looking into the camera. and i would be here at home. staring back. just like that. much like the Yule log at Christmas. and "why?" i ask myself? the sum of the parts....makes me scratch my head. but then i was never good at math. oy. so i have a show coming up in March...details to follow. right now, i have a piece in an exhibition coinciding with the production of RENT at Syracuse Stage. the show has been selling out, so if you want to make plans...move quick! Pat will be happy to note that within the next 2 days, we are expecting 6-8" of blowing snow and bitterly freezing temperatures. and i have TWO days to make art...jewelry saturday and collage sunday. stay warm & cozy y'all.

ok here's what i love about winter: i am snowed in with 3 (THREE!) good books. i plan to wrap up in a cozy quilt on the couch, ignore my art deadlines, and read. which means i'll read about 3 lines, then fall asleep. the other thing i love about the fact that we got about a foot of snow last night, and expect another 8" or more today/tonight, is that Sue's husband is fascinated by this snow, and i am happy he is happy. i love that a gi-normous county snowplow had the same slippery issues i did while trying to drive to Barnes & Noble, as I watched in my rearview mirror thinking, "hunh...he's going to slide right into me sideways. so much for 8-wheel drive." other than that, keep it.

with the deepest respect, and true saddness...

a tireless voice for the arts community is quiet...not silent, as his legacy will continue in the support and inspiration and encouragement he gave each one of the artists who had the good fortune to meet him. Mark Wright was the heart and soul of the Cultural Resources Council for a number of upstate NY counties. following budget cuts, he was basically the only employee. how he managed, is beyond me. driving hundreds of miles a week to give workshops on how to apply for grants, sitting on juries and boards and even organizing some productions. the CRC newsletter called him "selfless." how true. here was a man with more to do in a day than most have to accomplish in a week. yet he gave out his personal cell number to the artists, and permission to call anytime, should they need any help that he could offer. there are artists that we would never have had the experience of seeing, had it not been for his guidance, both officially and unofficially. artistic work that may never have been born. i only met with him twice, but we had numerous phone conversations. and his support and guidance to me came at a time when i doubted that i'd ever be able to call myself "artist" and look you in the eye. three years ago, i got a NYFA grant to attend a sculpture class in NH that changed my life. he was not too busy to listen to me prattle on about the details afterward. i suspect he was as proud as a parent to watch a beginning artist grow to maturity in their chosen art form. it is my deepest hope that he knew how important he was to all of us. Mark was one of those people that was a touchstone in my life - I never thought that he wouldn't be there, and when i felt unsure of my artistic footing, i would remember that he thought enough about my potential and skill to tell me to go for it. i'm not a person who is connected to the local arts "scene" so heard of his passing just today. luckily in time to attend his tribute at the end of the month. his voice will continue through all of the artists that he encouraged to keep on and do more and do better. he will be sorely missed in our lives. if you are able, attend his tribute.... a celebratory afternoon of art and performance to honor the life, dedication and selfless service of Mark J. Wright to the artistic heritage of CNY. The event seeks to capture and salute the breath of individual artists, cultures, art forms and artistic organizations Mark Wright touched and supported throughout his career, and will raise funds for a scholarship in his name. The event will take place on Jan. 30 from 1-5 PM.

it seems i am being nudged by, well, let's say The Universe (since i'm not certain where these nudges come from...it seems a bit optimistic & maybe self-centered to say "God"). in the past few days, i have been assaulted full on by these nudges at every turn. the message is: Learn yourself. now i have avoided workshops, classes, books, anything of the sort, that teaches you introspection and working things through and making peace with the past, present, future, yada yada. it just seems self-involved to spend that much time in an introspective stupor, examining how i feel about vanilla ice cream vs. butter pecan, or how my 2nd grade teacher made me feel such-and-such. i have made peace with the past, and the future - well, it's not here yet, so it's hard to know what triumphs or regrets are waiting. but maybe that's just how i view it, the introspection...maybe my riding partners, Blinders, Fear, and Blame Others have tainted the view. but that old friend Fear has kept a constant pace with me, along with his BFF, Blame Others. i promise i won't get into one of my long-winded extravaganzas of a post. but. i know the time is right to take a look at some baggage i didn't know i had. it has been so easy to blame other people, events, situations, whatever, on being stuck. it's like blaming the wheel for driving itself into the snow. (which we have in abundance today). i am not stuck because someone is holding me back...i am stuck because i have made choices to keep me where i am because, although it isn't nearly my potential...it's comfortable. and easier. and failure free...it's someone else's fault. at least i think that's how it rolls. and those two traveling companions have made it easy. or at least made it seem real. in the end, it may be that nothing outward about my life changes. but i will be peaceful in knowing that it is the right place at the right time, and not because of a fear of moving in any given direction. i can do the seemingly hard things...the challenges, the choices, all that. it's the ground that lies fallow that i have trouble mustering up the energy to plow. and, if you've met me here on this page for a while, you'll recognize that it's a recurring theme. and i suspect that until i get the land plowed, the seeds planted, and the ground watered, it will keep nudging at me. it's hard to take time out to respect yourself enough to learn about yourself, and grow to potential. there are endless things that glitter and catch your eye away from the goal. and many things that don't glitter so much, but need attention...jobs, cleaning up after cat vomits, shoveling snow...but at some point it has to all wait. for an hour or so. my sincere hope in all this nudging, is to reclaim my Self...the woman who felt peaceful in the middle of a storm, who brought that peace with her and sent it out around her like perfume. i honestly am not sure what the end of the journey will be - what the whole point of this nudging is. maybe just to take a nap. who knows? but i do feel a tug within me to do some soul work...to go deeper.

there are no words to describe how i feel right now...my insides are tangled and i want to howl...just that from-the-gut howl...i hear my coyotes howling when i take diva walking at night...my friend says they are calling to one another...and that fierce full-body reaction is what i feel...that separation call...3 years ago, i yanked on my Big Girl boots, punched fear in the face, and drove 8 hours to meet my family here...and have returned, no matter what, every year since...and have made it my sacred promise to myself to return every year till i am not physically able...i cannot explain fully to you the transformation in my life...i had a pretty good thing going, life-wise...good friends...a job i cared just enough about...a furbaby with paws that smell like popcorn...i wasn't looking for anything other than a sculpture class by a teacher i'd been dying to meet for years...BUT - something coincidental happened...the Squam Effect ...the deepest friendships and connections - true heart connections - were made...i have no art degree, no creative job, average clothes, average lifestyle... yet i left knowing my Place in the world...certain of my Self...now, there was a big disconnect between who i appeared to be, and who i felt i was. i am here to tell you a secret now, and this comes from the grounding and centering and family/tribe/posse - whatever you want to call the most incredible people i've come to know...the secret: I am NOT a suburban housewife. I am an artist. please tell everyone.

you know what? just don't read this blog till spring...that is if anyone is still reading it. i swear - could i whine any more than i do?? jesus help me. i mean really - i'm not that bad in person, but it seems that idle hands leave all these dark, oily winter-thoughts to roil and splat out here. i'm sorry. bottom line - my life is good in general. there are a few areas that could use housekeeping to come in and freshen up. i am not hungry, homeless, jobless, unloved, unwanted, physically abused or have any other REAL issue going on in my life that deserves your concern, so please, just ignore me till the short days and deep snow go away. i'll still be here, no doubt, blah blah blah-ing to myself. it's like those shows about how winning the lottery ruined someone's life. there are no words for that.

three

hey guys - i need some help on a project...i need 3's. the number three. 3. lots of 3's. so if you come across anything with the number 3 on it, could you cut it out and send it to me? it can be as small as a page number in a book (cut the whole number out) or as large at 3"x3" ...there can be other numbers with it, say for instance 143 or 235, but i need threes. lots of threes. thank you! **************** in other news, husband took the family to dinner last night...sort of an end of winter break / back to school in a few days / praise God we made it thing. fantastic family-owned Italian restaurant that makes me swoon just thinking of it. it was a good thought. and there has been a generally drama-free visit, so expectations were high. so it was such a disappointment when youngblood spent the first 30 minutes sniping at husband. Perfect Stepdaughter and I were waiting for husband to use his counselor-taught skills, but he was too busy trying to keep his hands under the table and away from youngblood's neck. so, as PSD lamented to her brother that she wished she had brought her own car so she could leave, i hissed. yes, i forgot my skills. i guess it reminded me of how ungrateful i was to my father growing up, and then he died before the teen angst could be resolved and repaired. i thought, whatever our marriage is or isn't, here is a guy that busts his butt traveling in all weather, wrecking his back hauling heavy sample equipment through windy parking lots, in order to provide college and clothes and christmas, oh - and the very meal we were eating. and his son sits there oblivious to those facts, and instead is belittling and picking at his father. the opportunity for swift kicks has long since past, but would have done much good. so PSD and i (well, i imagine PSD is thinking this too), are trying to telepathically will Big Daddy to say something. when self-help did not seem evident. i hissed. quietly. fully charged. and effectively. luckily, the cavatelli was excellent. ****************** today i prepare my artwork for the show. yes, i decided to send it (somehow). and i'll also finish up the lightbox and attempt some shots, then printing!! or maybe just sit in my PJ's and read all day. it could go either way. i start Stephanie Lee's Shifting Ground e-class this week, and it sounds interesting. i do need studio time. but today, i will drift on the milkweed seed of whim...eat when i'm hungry (not likely after last night's feast)...nap when i feel like it...make art messes and photo messes and drink fragrant tiger tea. and get some groove going on the IPod. winter just makes it hard to write an exciting post - sorry. soon, however, the days of x-country skiing will no doubt make headlines here, and you can all sign my body cast!

ok so i've been trying to carve out time to connect here in a decent way. and as day after day passed with no time, i realized...i spend a lot of time on obligations, and waiting for the perfect moment for something. i don't start an art project because i'm afraid i'll get in that zone, and lose track of time, making me late for something. oh, like work. a few months ago i determined that i was too exhausted by the end of the day to put in any quality studio time, so rather than frustrate myself with wanting to be there, but having to be elsewhere (like behind the vacuum), i decided that i would only hit the studio on weekends. that became frustrating because all my errands would pile up for the weekend, and i'd find myself frustrated because i was doing some Becky Home-Ecy thing, when i really wanted to be in the studio, or in the studio with a thousand "errand bees" buzzing around me. so you can see how many times the word "frustrating" has appeared here. and in the midst of this, one lovely, warm, snuggly little furball with paws that smell like popcorn got shorted. i don't know how to be a good dog-mom, despite endless hours watching Cesar Millan. i spoil her and pretend she is a princess changed into a puppy, because her unlimited capacity for love was reaching a danger zone in a human body. because i recognize her as a special being in my life, i feel guilty about time spent away from her, or rather - with her watching me go about my day in ways that don't include her. like studio time or pushing The Green Sucking Thing around the house. truth be told, she's as likely to be content just gazing at me from her woobie in my studio, as she is having her belly rubbed. it's all about companionship for this little being. (who has a huge case of separation anxiety). so this long version of a post is not a rant, or a "poor me" scenario. walk with me. a year or so back, i began to think about the phrase "time is money" and realized how many similar expressions there are to each - "spend time wisely" "wasting time" "not enough time." now use the word Money in place of time. i began to think about how we each have the same 24 hours in a day, and how we spend/waste those hours is our choosing. think Monopoly - everyone starts with the same amount of money (but no one gets the shoe or dog in my house, as they are glued into an assemblage i did. shh.don't tell). i won't continue to belabor the point, and you can certainly connect the dots about value vs. time...does this activity warrant me spending x number of time-dollars? it made me re-think how i spend my time, since no one really knows when the bank will run dry. and i re-shifted priorities and purged some unwanted, and useless activities and relationships that had outlived what either person cared to give. that freed up time, both minutes on the clock, and internally. nothing like a clearing of space to make you breathe easier. my focus became clearer, and with a sharpened goal, the rest of the clutter of life fell into place. if you visit my house, it will be clean-ish...no crusty dishes stuck to the sink, but usually a fur nest in a corner. laundry piled up, but not on the couch...in the hamper where it belongs. that sort of casual housekeeping. and i am okay with that. if you need to visit me in a clean & orderly house, please call ahead a day. and the shift was also a letting go of needing things to be perfect. i am not that way by birth or inclination. growing up, we had someone make our house shine. it was not me, and it was not my mother. and when i moved out on my own, i would rather spend a day with friends then a vacuum. my family has slowly gotten used to this. and if they want it different, i will not be offended if they grab the vacuum themselves. the long road to my point is that in determining Time Value, i also enabled myself to determine The values that i have inside. and that lets me spend those precious moments engaged in purposeful living. and that is gratifying beyond belief. for christmas this year, a Friend Who Knows My Heart gifted me with an amazing book...it's actually called The Gift - poems by Hafiz. and here's a portion of one i want to share with you, and dedicate it to the ones who, like me, held myself hostage to a standard that was not mine: We have not come here to take prisoners but to surrender ever more deeply to freedom and joy... ...Run my dear, from anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings... ...we have not come here to take prisoners or to confine our wondrous spirits, but to experience ever and ever more deeply our divine courage, freedom, and Light! ------------------------------ that just resonates with me. hopefully you enjoyed it, as well. may you have the time to do the important things, and the wisdom to recognize what they are.

they say man's best friend is a dog. i have to add that a young girl's best friend is a horse. and my PerfectStepDaughter's horse is gravely ill. Sonny is her Love. she has been at the barn for 2 days now, willing him to get better. he is 24 and has a virus, caught from other horses at the barn. her vet is on vacation. they are both in need of your prayers. i will be spending the night with her out there tomorrow, should that be an issue, because my love for her is stronger than my fear of a large animal with teeth and hooves that isn't in it's right mind. (i've had experience with that part, as Tara would attest to). so if i don't call or email back right away, that's probably where i am. there is a beginning here, also, that i can clearly see, but will keep to myself for now. and i double-promise a decent post in the next few days. thanks for checking in, despite the wimpiness of the posts.

it seems like i've had no time to post anything thoughtful, or fully formed lately. not to mention be in the studio for any extended time. but i plan to change that. right now my studio is torn apart as i purge and make room for the huge new printer. part of my 2011 plan is to reach out to more galleries and different venues, to show my art. this morning i looked up the Main Street Gallery website...they are a small gallery in a small town, but with a big presence. they are closing. so many galleries and art venues have closed or are cutting back, that i felt i should say - if you have a favorite gallery, visit it. often. let the owners know how important their gallery is to you, with words and (if possible) purchases. they live on commissions. so that painting that takes your breath away may not be there tomorrow...buy it today. there is a new gallery in my area called Szozda Gallery. this post isn't about a free advertising oppty...it's about the small business owner trying to compete. i have had a wonderful relationship with Caroline for many years, both through the Delavan gallery, and now her own space. (the Delavan closed earlier in the year). much of my jewelry is there, and soon some of my collages. please visit her. she has made an effort to have a beautiful selection of works there by local and internationally known artists. she has made a conscious effort to have price points for everyone. ask to see the paintings by Phil Parsons, in particular. they are masterfully done, with an Old Master feel. the hook? there have been some very famous people that stiffed him for his work, and they have been painted into this collection. i suggested a show called "screwed over and fed up." he is not the only one that they've stiffed, which is what some of them have gained their notoriety for. Lawyers, doctors, other well-known people. and some you don't know. but the painting are remarkable all in themselves, without the ah-ha attached. my point is, if you enjoy a gallery, it is especially important to buy something from them now, if you are able. for the artist's sake, and for the gallery's sake. it saddens me that so many smaller galleries are closing. they aren't likely to re-open "when times get better." oy such cloudy thoughts so early in the morning. okay - go buy art and have a good day.