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.