I have been so out of touch for the last two months. I’m so sorry. You see, all of the sudden we had to move (landlord wanted to sell the house though we had 2 years left on the lease). Life got hectic and we had to fast forward ideas that we were kicking around for the future. Of course we didn’t just move up the road or across the town, we disrupted everything and moved 800 miles!
Now that life is normalizing somewhat (very little, actually) I am promising myself that I will keep this up. Wish me luck!
Oh, and here’s some art…
Have an amazingly peaceful day.
I don’t know where my husband got this but it summed everything up… it’s time for a new adventure. And when followed by this…
Well, how can you resist?
So my family and my menagerie of paintings and drawings will be making a move of approximately 800 miles. I’m excited for new experiences and kicking some art into high gear.
What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done? This just might be my crazy.
It also may be time to decide on a focus for my art. I hate the idea of being limited to a style or medium but being taken seriously is important. So, pencil?
Or paint and mixed media?
Gloomy Sundays have their use. They are good for reflection. They are not good for varnishing paintings and because of that I get to reflect and think and plan. But I’m not planning my next art piece, nope, I get to plan my next journey.
We are moving out of state. A thought that’s thrilling and frightening all at once. It’s a big gamble but the ability to look into the possible futures of my family members and do what feels right is adulting at its most intense.
The anxiety lays with the resistance of the teen whose ability to look even 5 minutes into the future is nonexistent. An expected reaction that is trying and a bit tiring. But, as adults, we understand and empathize as we gain even more gray hair and wrinkles from our attempts to dispel the myth that turning 18 magically transforms a person into an adult that can make rational decisions.
It’s an age old issue (there may be a pun in here somewhere) and makes me wonder how this will manifest in the artwork as well as the family dynamic…
The first box has been packed and everyone wrote messages on it. It’ll sit in storage for a while so revisiting it will be a small capsule of time we can reflect on while enjoying another rainy Sunday… in another state.
…and I got one varnished yesterday before the rain and humidity kicked in.
Have you ever spent days (weeks, months, years) planning and researching and scheming and reading and writing and, and, and…?
I have (and still do) and I find it prohibitive after a while. If you want change you have to make it happen. You just have to take that first step. Then you have to take the next. And you have to keep on stepping no matter what.
And yeah, you’re going to step in some shit along the way.
Do you take enough time for yourself? I don’t mean relaxing on the beach or snoozing by the pool. I mean time to relax but be aware and really look around.
My kids think we went on a walk for physical exercise. Nope. We went on a walk to explore. To see what was around us. To smell the pine needles and see the wildflowers up close. We chatted and laughed. We saw butterflies and heart shaped leaves. We worked on filling up our visual dictionary.
Creativity is so downplayed. Just having the time to be creative without expectation, without explanation, It’s such a necessary part of me. So when I take little excursions I use every moment to look around. I listen. I touch.
Inspiration comes from many directions. It comes from experiences big and small. Where do you draw your creativity from?
When your son walks in frustratedly exclaiming he broke his g-string and your husband happily tells him that he has extra your mind goes off in weird directions.
The assignment; collect trash from three areas over a span of four weeks. Catalogue the types of litter. Review the collected data. Create a bulletin board to explain the findings to a target audience.
A great lesson that involves predictions, data collection, analysis, drawing conclusions, and reporting what was found.
As I take a picture of student work I hear, “Mrs. Blackwell, get my nails in the pic!”
Forgive me feminism for I have failed.