You Can Call Me Gwen

Straighten up and fly right...through the mail.

I finished up the last of my Easter mail last night after baking cute little chicks and bunnies all day.

I don't know if I just reached my quota of cute, but when I got down to the last few envelopes, I just couldn't do it straight.

You may have to click to enlarge the photos so you can see what I mean.

 

Hope it will all be okay.

Also, I forgot to show you this in my last post:

Yesterday, Able Baker Dana set out some toothpicks, and I was using the pointed end of one to make chickie eyes.

Then I got to looking at the other end of it and realized it was really cool.

She doesn't remember where she got them, so I won't be buying any of my own.

But, as my son Creative Genius says:

"It's enough just to know they exist in the world."

Springy Thingie 3 - Prince Charming and the Blossoms

The Bradford pear trees are in full bloom this week, and every time we pass them I say to Prince Charming, "Oh! I just wish I could have a little twig-full of blossoms of my very own."

We don't own any Bradford pear trees.

But, you know my prince.

I am very careful about expressing my desires, because I'm afraid he'll sell his watch to fulfill them.

His timepiece is safe for now.

He often walks during his lunch hour.

Tuesday he and his boss walked past a Bradford pear tree which had a broken branch hanging over the sidewalk.

He came home Tuesday night looking like this:

 

 

The Inchie looks like this:

 

 

I look happy.

I love that man. 

Springy Thingies 2

My friend Dana likes cake decorating like I like cutting.

We were in her kitchen today.

We cut some chicks from yellow sugar cookie dough.

  

We painted on their beaks.

 

We added eyes.

We experimented with wings.

Some of them got feet.

We also cut some bunnies, because, well... what's a day without bunny cutting?

Sad, that's what.

(Dana has fancy nails.)

We baked our bunnies, chicks, crosses, flowers, and birds (their wings are on another baking sheet, poor things).

I wondered if this little chick with the toes 'on pointe' was a ballerina in it's former life.

We tried to make an Asian chick for Dana's Korean husband.

And then we experimented with cupcake decorating.

Know what this bunny is doing?

Digging a burrow in the ground, of course.

 

Know what these are for?

I do.

But I can't tell you yet.  

Maybe I'm Just Tired

I'm doing a little on-line research this morning for my PNW Seester.

She asked me for some ideas for displaying old letters.

I can no longer remember how my double-clicks lead to this quote, but (maybe because I have slipped into that age group that officially moves me  from 'young' to 'old', or maybe because I am suffering from significant insomnia) this just has me laughing out loud.

"Don't make old people mad. We don't like being old in the first place, so it doesn't take much to set us off."

Not that these are my sentiments exactly...

Gwendolyn Scissorhands

It was very difficult to put the scissors down and draw my Inchies last week, much less stop cutting long enough to photograph them.

But here they are, in all their teensy glory.

The Inchie for March 24th...which represents the beginning of the bunny-cutting mania.

 

 

 

We cut a lot of paper bunnies.

The Inchie for March 25...wherein I helped a friend draft a pattern for a tote she'd seen somewhere.

 

After which, we cut some bunnies.

The Inchie for March 26...which represents my first (and wonderful) experience with paper clay...and my run-in with the (hotel) authorities.

 

After which, I cut more bunnies.

The Inchie for March 27 represents the notable fact that I received something in the mail which was handwritten and full of love.

I blurred the writing on this Inchie (as I always do when it includes personal data -  I love that word 'data'), but you would actually be able to read the addresses if I hadn't.

I am now almost blind.

Note to self: get a magnifying light for the workdesk

 

Need I say that I cut paper bunnies on this day also?

Nah, probably not.

The Inchie for March 28...which represents a time of worship on Palm Sunday.

 

A day of rest.

Do not ask me if I cut paper bunnies on the Sabbath.

A Week of Springy Thingies

This week I'm going to try posting a little springtime-for-the-eyes each day.

The key word being 'try'.

I've got today covered, because last week I cut nearly 80 paper bunnies.

And about a million little eggs.

I put some of them in paper sleeves with an Easter greeting on the front and popped them into envelopes for my mother.

She loves to send handmade things to her friends and, though her eyesight has largely failed her, she is still my greatest fan.

Here are eight bunnies that are on their way to new homes all over the country today.

 

 
 

Happy (bunny) trails to you.I

Making a Good First Impression

I revisited the beautiful Colcord hotel Friday, with paper clay and an artist friend in tow.

I figured if I couldn't have the whole beautiful letter box, I'd just get myself a little piece of it.

Here I am, making my first impression.

 

 

How do you think I did?

 

 

I made that one for Prince Charming.

He's an Eagles fan, and a lover of eagles.

This one I did just because it needed to be done.

 

 

I still love to look at it.

Here is a corner piece from the medallions on the incredible elevator doors (I think).

 

 

My paper clay was used up all too soon.

My friend, whom we shall call by her Indian name, What Would Happen If, was more thoughtful.

 

Of course, she's made impressions all over the world.

I guess she packs her paper clay right in there with her walking shoes and extra socks when she travels.

Soon we had a nice little collection of impressions spread out on the (very cool) seating next to the elevator.

 

 

And while we were standing there talking about what to do next, a very tall man came up to wait on the elevator.

He was the tallest man I had ever seen.

He had two members of the hotel staff following him.

He had an athletic bag in his hand.

And I overheard him say, "Can I make a suggestion? Mumblemumblemumble. If we come back for the playoffs mumblemumblemumble need more weights mumblemumblemumble." 

I decided he was a professional ball player.

But what do I know?

After he got on the elevator, the staff members turned their attention on us.

"What is this you are doing?"

(Ummmm.)

"We are taking paper clay impressions of some of the beautiful features in this hotel", replied What Would Happen If.

(I stared at my feet.)

"What for?"

(Did I imaginine that stiffening of her managerial shoulders?)

"We are artists", said What Would Happen If.

"Oh, really!?"

(She was impressed.)

"Are you local?"

(She was excited.)

"How will you use these pieces?"

(She was interested.)

"Mumblemumblemumble", I replied.

We finished up, put our clay in the car, and came back in to wash up.

Then we went to lunch in the hotel restaurant.

Our seating provided me with a nice view of the front sidewalk .

The sidewalk where the local news station had stationed their reporters and cameras.

The sidewalk the L.A. Lakers' bus pulled up to.

I think that tall man may have been Kobe Bryant.

But I don't think I made an impression. 
 

Bird (brain) Ideas

Remember me telling you that I collected all the feathers under his cage when my mom's canary was molting?

 

 

I haven't had time to play with them like I want really want to.

I did take a two-minute break from Saturday chores and errands to play around this much:

 

But now I must fly.

Happy Saturday, my friends.

Somebunny won!

 
On my workdesk tonight...

 

 

...a little bunny.

He still has no eyes or tail.

But he does have a new ribbon.

And lots of friends.

 

 

They see your names there and they wonder...

 

"Who will we be going to live with?"

 

"Hey, Prince Charming, pick a card, any card."

"Okay. I choose this one."

 

 

"Oh, that's nice."

 

 

That will make Helen very happy. 

 

Helen, please email me @ youcancallmegwen.yahoo.com to make arrangements to collect your family.

Third Day

 
Third day into cutting way back on my caloric intake.

Third regular day following third sleepless night.

Fourth day of the week, following three days of manic activity in my brain and in my life.

Hungry + Tired = Possible Disaster

I just rocked the Grandshoot to sleep.

Then I decided to make one of my favorite healthy snack and just browse through a stack of old magazines.

How nice is it that when I went to get out what I needed to do this, there was a brown bag with my name already on it?

In my mother's handwriting.

Apparently, she sent something home with me and I dutifully recycled the gently-used bag.

Aw.

It took me all the way back to grade school lunches...sandwiches of homemade white bread, peanut butter and honey.

Where did I put my nickel "milk money"?

Care to join me for some homemade microwave popcorn?

Quarter cup of popping corn and 1/2 tsp (or less) of olive oil.

A good sprinkle of seasoning salt (or creative mix of herbs, if you're not too sleep-deprived to trust yourself).

Stir it all up and dump it into the brown bag.

Fold the top of the bag down a few times and place it in the mircrowave on high for about two and a half minutes.
 
 

Pour the popped corn into your vintage mixing bowl.

Place several ice cubes in a glass and add your choice of healthy drink.

 I chose a green tea blend.

Giveaway! Somebunny's going to win something.

Today I had some play time scheduled with my game-for-anything friend, Dana.

The first thing we did was finish playing with the background-practice canvases we started on our last play date.

Here she is with her finished canvas.

 

She added a few bits of foreground to her peeling-paint background (upper right).

She also did a lot more designing than I did in her textured background (bottom right).

Looks cool, doesn't it?

 

 

That's why I'm showing you her work.

------

Next we turned our attention to paper bunnies.

All of our attention.

 

 

And before she went home, we placed her bunnies in families and gave them some accessories.

 

 

I'm still showing you her work.

Because I love it.

------

Now, I did cut a few bunnies of my own.

 

And I did place some of them in families.

But I'm still debating about them.

I was attracted to these bunnies because of their simplicity.

Today, though, we talked about eyes.

And we talked about cotton tails.

I'd like to know what you think.

Leave your thoughts as a comment on this post (by 9:00 p.m. March 26) and I'll add your name to the drawing for...

...a bunny family (with accessories, of course) of your very own.

An Apple a Day

Yesterday, when the doorbell rang so unexpectedly in the middle of the work day, I was taken aback to see my good friend, and former co-worker, standing on the mat.

She immediately held out a small sack she was carrying.

A week or two ago when she read the post about my produce sticker collection, she sent me an email offering to give me a couple of apple labels.

I had to decline.

The rules of the game (that old, uptight, Naomi has rules for everything) state that we don't get to keep the sticker unless we personally eat the fruit.

My dear friend brought me the stickers, anyway.

With the fruit attached.

Now there are three new additions to my label collection.

 

The Sequoia is from an orange I purchased yesterday.

The other two are from the apples she brought me.

A Pink Lady apple.

And an Ambrosia ("food of the gods") apple.

 

 

Now you know what I was rambling about yesterday.

Happy Birthday, Genean.

Life is delicious.

I boggle her mind.

Whenever Miss Helping Hands is home from college, the two of us try to squeeze in a few rounds of Boggle.

She's really good at it.

And it disheartens me to lose.

And lose.

And lose.

So, if she wins too many games in a row, I will just casually ask a question about something that is currently boiling over on the front burner of her life.

Throws her every time.

There's more than one way to skin a cat.

Golly gee, Sargeant, life sure is full.

I just have to spill some of this stuff out of my head because I'm in danger of a serious overload.

 

Well, actually, that's pretty much where I live.

 

Here goes:

- I'm three days behind on the Inchies, because I'm ricocheting from one project to another like a ball in a pinball machine.

- Spring makes me a nervous wreck because...see above.

- I was visiting Me Darlin' Mither yesterday and her little canary was looking quite unkempt. Apparently he is molting, and the floor under his cage was carpeted with feathers. I kneeled to clean them up for mom and the wheels in my head started turning. I came home with a baggie full of little white, yellow, and orange canary feathers. Today the wheels are spinning so fast it's like air conditioning in my brain! Stay tuned...

- This afternoon the door bell rang quite unexpectedly. I opened it to find a pink lady on the mat. And the conversation, after the initial polite greetings, was immediately turned to speaking of "the food of the gods". The woman was not selling anything, mind you. But she was offering free samples. Wild, I tell you. I'll just have to report more on that later, as well.

- Also this afternoon, I made one of my favorite healthy snacks in my ongoing effort to battle my bulge(s). I'm sure I've shared it with my Facebook friends, but I'm pretty stoked about it again, so I'll probably need to blog about it to get it off my mind. 

- Lastly, today I got some very sad news about Tammy Faye and Marilyn. My Chicken-Raising Seester wrote that "something terrible happened" to my two blonde babies..."they...disappeared?"  I think she's afraid to give me the horrible truth.

But they're gone.

And I think we should all observe a moment of silence.

Except for the animal who got them.

May it be silenced forever.

Really?

Does anyone know if this is true?

 

 

I wonder what you get for five dollars.

Some patterns should come with a warrening.

It started out as an innocent experiment with papers and scissors.

I just cut one or two decorations for Easter.

 

But they're multiplying like rabbits.

More on this later.

The Family Calendar: Save October 18.

I'm still keeping up with that intimidating family calendar...currently mailing my way through the six March anniversaries.

 

 

And it's still a blessing to stop and think of each of my beloved family members when their special day comes up.

-------

I told you about the gorgeous spring day we had Friday...and the exhilarating bike ride I enjoyed.

 

It was much easier to ride it than to draw it.

------

Saturday we had a blizzard.

And the pleasure of keeping our grandshoot over night.

He was wearing his Superman pajamas.

 

 

I loved that.

------

And we're expecting another supershoot in October.

Life is good.
 

It all adds up.

I'm noticing that a lot of the things I love the best in the world are just meant to be together.

I love ink.

And pencils.

 

 

And pens.

 

I especially love fountain pens.

Here is part of my collection of old nibs.

 

I love paper.

 

Of all kinds.

 

And I love words.

This is what I was reading in bed last night.

 

 I love envelopes.

 

   

And I love stamps.

Here is part of my collection.

 

I love calligraphy.

I tried my hand at it once.

 

I love things that are handwritten.

Especially in French.

 

 

 

I love mail boxes.

This is the one in my studio.
 

So I guess it just adds up that I love mail.

I love to send mail.

 

 
And I love to receive mail.

(Wouldn't you hang on to an envelope that said you were the best ever?)

 

 

These days there is less and less mail of the handwritten and personal kind in our world.

Sigh.

That is why, no matter what else happens in a day, if I get mail of the handwritten kind, I feel it deserves an Inchie.

Last week I received this little phone cozy in the mail.

 

It's from one of my amazing Neecees.

She is a Shoot from my amazing Seester (of Chicken-Ranch-in-the-Mail fame), and she is just learning to knit.

She figured out a black and white checker pattern all by her little old self.

Because she loves me.

And my Seester added the red button.

Because she knows me.

 

 

 

Here is the Inchie to remind me.

 

 

That I am known...and loved anyway.

Oh, my word(s)!

I clipped this little photo out of a magazine, hmmm, I don't remember how long ago, because I felt strongly we should do something about this.

 

Scrabble was (is) my family game.

My siblings and I cut our baby-teeth on tile racks.

And we didn't consider ourselves as having truly reached adulthood until we beat Daddy at a game of Scrabble.

When I saw this clipping again today, I knew the time had come.

I got out my miniature lunchbox full of scrabble tiles.

 

And since I had the girlies (and an adopted Shoot) here, I asked them to help decide what our words should be.

They came up with some good ideas.

 

 

And then things deteriorated momentarily.

 

 

Until I cracked my whip to get them back on track.

 

 

And we found something we think is perfect for us.

 

 

 

Now all we need are some of those male-type Shoots with the big power tools.

Just one big happy family living life together.

As long as everyone does exactly as I say. Bwahahaha!
 
 

Living it up. Or not.

We don't keep much food in the house since the Shoots deserted us.

We just kind of play it a day or two at a time and eat a lot of simple little dinners.

But the girlies are home for Spring Break.

And we were out today, bare legged and wearing short sleeves, when Prince Charming called to say we should stop at the grocery store and get some food for the weekend because of the winter storm warning.

Say what?

We're expecting a blizzard tomorrow?

You just have to appreciate Oklahoma weather.

We went to the grocery store.

We had to wait in line for a cart.

We loaded it with a few meals worth of food: the ingredients for chicken-tortilla soup, a few apples, some crackers and cheese, yogurt and frozen strawberries for the Dutch babies.

We decided to use the self check-out so we wouldn't have to wait in another long line.

There was just one man in front of us.

He was a man's man: tanned, muscular, and ready for real work.

He was cheerful and friendly.

I only noticed these things after I noticed the one item he was buying.

It was a two-layer German chocolate cake with great blobs of icing on top.

And I thought to myself...

I'm not living right.

Q is for Quack

This morning I traded my indoor workout for my first real bike ride of the season.

The sky was so blue.

The temperature was perfect.

The people I passed were cheerful.

It was exhilarating.

And...

I found a Q.

Q's are hard to come by in the world.

And if we didn't have them, we'd have to quit asking questions.

We'd have no quacks.

No quintessential.

No quid pro quo.

So, I rescued the Q from the mean streets.

I've been collecting for my "found alphabet" for several years.

I was so inspired by finding the Q, that I came home and got out my tin of other rescued letters and played with them for a few minutes

Really.

Just a few minutes.

I'll be right there to play a game with you Miss Mary Mack.

Really.

But I just...

 

 

...my rescued letters.

 

Score!

There just aren't a lot of similarities between Naomi and me.

But one thing we have in common is neither of us like to go to the grocery store.

So I was proud of Naomi when she forced herself to go there yesterday.

Then she unpacked the groceries.

And I was very proud of her.

She scored three new additions to my produce sticker collection.

And one of them was a real beauty.

 

I love this Victor orange label.

It was scored-for-easy-removal in eight different places, so I had to use some finesse to get it off in one piece.

But, yowza, I'm glad to have it!

The avocado sticker makes me happy, too.

Wouldn't that be a pretty little Inchie?

And, of course, anything that says 'Jazz' (especially in such a cool typeface) is alright by me.

The stores have been carrying a fabulous variety of apples this year, and even Prince Charming knows to buy a different kind each week.

Partly for our eating pleasure.

 

But mostly for the label.

Spring Break: It's not just for students anymore.

It's hard to take an inch when you really need a mile.

I'm sure every day is full of remarkable and wonderful things, and the fault is mine when I don't see them.

But when I do see them, it's hard to choose only one image for my daily "Inchie".

Tuesday I went to visit Me Darlin' Mither and she had the audacity to be out shopping and lunching with a friend.

Which afforded me a little time to stop in and browse at the thrift store.

I spied a little metal pitcher that was just made to hold wildflowers.

I hope that counting your wildflowers before they grow is not the same as counting your chickens before they hatch.

 

 

Because I spent a whole American dollar buying that vase.

------

Those of you who are my old Facebook friends may remember a spring break gone by when I described the fun-time-gone-bad that my daughter and I had making "door decs" for the residents of her dorm hall.

For some reason, we felt we were being tortured before we were half-way through.

And we thought we'd never, ever do that again.

Guess what we did Wednesday?

 
 

Yep.

40 more.

I will say it was much easier this time, because we had paper that was already printed on both sides.

Last year we had to glue paper to paper before we could trace, cut, and add wings and ribbon.

Aaaccckkkk.

 

We're not going to think about that any more.

------

Now, I don't have any inchies for this, but I have more breaking news from the boxes of dirt in the sunroom.

We now have sprouts of Flat-Leaf Parsley, French Rosemary, and Sweet Basil.

We also have a showing of Nasturtiums (I think I'm going to have to add 'nasturtium' to my 'favorite words' list).

Oh....and one brave, little shoot from the box marked "Sweet Peas".

I told you I needed a mile.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

It was so beautiful when I stepped outside this morning.

The sun was shining in a clear blue sky.

The birds were singing.

There was a light breeze.

And there was a grouchy old man with bushy eyebrows and a large mustache sitting smack in the middle of my flower bed.

Maybe he was just out-of-sorts because he was wet and it was a little chilly.

Maybe it's just his nature.

I don't know.

I couldn't get him to speak to me.

But I told him I liked his hat and he let me take his picture.

 

 

A little kindness goes a long way in this world.

He's going to stay with us until May. 

 

Prince Charming and The Letter Box - A True Story

Prince Charming read my post yesterday.

The post wherein I bemoaned the fact that I hadn't taken a picture of the letter box at the  Colcord.

Prince Charming works downtown.

Look what he did on his lunch hour:

 

Now you see what I mean about the letter box.

And about Prince Charming.

If you zoom in on this photo you can even read the plaque under "U.S.MAIL".

Isn't it a beautiful thing?

While I was at the Colcord looking at the paintings with my artist friends, one of them became enamored of this letter box, too.

We both loved the elevator doors, also, which you can see on either side of the letter box.

And while we were talking about them, she told me something wonderful.

She told me I could probably take a paper clay mold of these things, because paper clay does not leave a residue like other clay does.

Prince Charming and paper clay in the world?

Be still my beating heart!

So much good news!

You get to see the photograph.

And I get to go back.

The Long (Happy) Weekend

I may be four inches behind with my posts, but I've done the living and the drawing, and I'm thinking that's what matters most.

Let's play catch-up.

I told you about the new chicken ranch I got in the mail from my (#3) seester last Thursday.

Here's the "Inchie" for that:

 

 

 

On Friday morning I took a little field trip to the Colcord Hotel to look at some very unusual artwork which hangs in the lobby area.

 

 

I forgot to take my camera.

I could hate myself for that.

But it just gives me a good reason to go back.

Because, although I loved the paintings and found real inspiration in them, I fell completely in love with the hotel's original letter box.

I've got to take a photograph for you.

It's so cool.

I want it.

 

Sunday afternoon we had a house full of Shoots.

I often think of the response I heard (or read) years ago when the following question was posed to the mother of many shoots.

"Which of your children is your favorite?"

She replied, "The one who is sick, until he is well, and the one who is away, until he is home."

Sunday we got to see the one who has been our favorite for the past three months.

Sam-I-Am was here.

We played the world's longest game of Phase 10.

 

And another "Inchie" was born.

 

It's Spring Break (with capitals!) for the college girlies.

Yesterday, Miss Mary Mack and I took a little road trip up the turnpike to Bartlesville to see one of our "adopted" kids.

 

Bartlesville is not just another word for Phillips Oil Company.

It is also home to the Price Tower Art Center, which is housed in Frank Lloyd Wright's "only realized skyscraper".

And our adoptee lives mere blocks from it.

So, after a nice lunch in the bachelor's pad, we just walked our little selves down there and...

...found out it is closed on Mondays.

Traumatic Experiences

I could describe it this way:

I was sitting in a safe place waiting for a friend.

Someone came up behind me, wrapped something around my neck, and tried to choke me.

I struggled for air.

They poured something on me.

The fumes were noxious.

I was pulled backwards.

My head was pushed under water.

When I survived that, they came at me again.

This time, with sharp blades aimed at my skull.

 

I said I could describe it that way.

 

Actually, it was just a visit to my hairdresser.

But when we were sharing stories of daring-do at our St. Patrick's Day dinner party recently, the way she described things made me realize anything could sound dangerous.

Listen to her take on hot-air balloon rides: "Oh, yah. I want to sit in a little basket high in the sky while someone aims a flame at the giant ball of gas above me."

Yep.

 

Note to self: Do not discuss sky-diving plans at the salon. 

"The Chick's in the Mail"

I love the Postal Service.

Even when they're Blackhearts.

For a very small price they'll carry just about anything from here to there.

Or, as was the case yesterday, from there to here.

And I do mean anything.

I received a chicken ranch in the mail yesterday.

No kidding.

Hens, chicks, and henhouses.

Geese, goslings, and a pond.

A farm wagon.

And an extra man.

(I don't really need an extra man, but I'll let him do all the grunt work and keep Prince Charming to myself.)

One of my amazing Seesters has been reading my woeful posts about not being able to keep chickens under my current circumstances.

And since she's got the 'wherewithal' (what a great word that is)...she just up and bought me a chicken ranch and had the blessed USPS bring it right to my door.

It was waiting for me when I got home.

Here's how it was packaged:

 

 

 

I don't know how she fit it all into a two-liter bottle, but like I said, she's amazing.

 

 

Now, I know it looks like there is nothing but a bunch of the world's best tea in there.

 

But, see, she knows how much I love this tea.

And she also knows I'd have to go to the health food store to get it.

And we all know that's never going to happen.

So, she protected my chicken ranch by padding the package with tea bags.

I come from good stock, I tell you.

And now I have some stock of my own.

 

 

And an extra man to take care of it.

 

 

Life is good, with seesters in the world.

Talk about waste...

When we got ready to call it a day yesterday, Prince Charming came across the printed itinerary from the field trip he'd taken as part of the Municipal Leadership Program.

He handed it to me, thinking I might like to know what he'd been up to all day.

Here is a piece of it:

 

 

I was still laughing when I fell asleep.

Life is Beautiful

Reading your suggestions about how to draw an "inchie" to represent encouragement and affirmation has been a wonderful experience.

After waiting an entire extra day, and sitting down to draw an inch that incorporated several of the suggestions, something completely different floated into my mind.

The inchie's chief purpose is to evoke a clear memory a year, or two, or twenty from now, when I look back at the days of 2010.

And I think that is why the inch for my frame shop experience looks like this:

 

 

In a week or two, when I pick up the finished piece, it will explain this strange image - and I will explain my wonderful experience.

 

Yesterday I spent the lion's share of the day talking with two people about life and books.

Two very different people.

In two very different settings.

But all the same books.

And that makes another inch.

 

 

Know what I'm learning while I do this "Inchie Project"?

I'm learning not only that life is more manageable one inch at a time...

It's also more beautiful. 

Cut and Color. Cut and Paste.

In between the three hours I spent at the salon this morning getting my hair done as an excuse to discuss life and good books...

...and the two hours I spent in the bookstore visiting with a remarkable young person about life and good books...

...I made this card for the 'next-up' on the family calendar.

 

 

Cut and paste.

The old-fashioned way. 

Drawing encouragement. And trying to.

I left off a couple of inches when I posted this morning.

Sunday God brought order to a few of my thoughts...in the form of a firm idea about how to organize them into an art piece.

 

One inch for that. 

(More on this later, when I get started on the actual work.)

 

Monday I had the wonderful experience of working through some of my fear of paint and canvas.

One inch for that.

 

 

Today I took two of my pieces to the frame shop to get some help with organizing and framing.

I got some wonderful help.

But I also got some completely unexpected affirmation and encouragement.

And I'm trying to figure out how to draw one inch for that.

My Thyme is Up

Latest breaking news from the boxes of dirt in the sunroom:

My thyme is up.

So is my oregano.

And the alyssum.

And the marigolds.

Gadzooks!

I'm so excited.

And the layer of little sprouts in the new wildflower garden out back looks like a blanket of moss from a distance.

Today we are supposed to have a high temperature of 70 degrees.

I can only imagine how that will change those delicate litttle sprouts.

They will be taking big giant steps toward adulthood.

Toward the day when they proudly proclaim:

"Look at me!"

"I am Poppy."

"I am Morning Glory."

 

 

"We are Larkspur...

 

 

...Daisy...

 

 

...and Coreopsis.

 

 

"We are Dame's Rocket...

 

 

...Blackeyed Susan...

 

 

...and Rose Mallow.

 

 

"And we are beautiful."

The Power of Focus

Years ago, God used this book to facilitate some major changes in my life.

Are you surprised?

Shocked, even?

So was I.

But God is God.

He uses whatever He wants to use, to do whatever He wants to do.

I am currently re-reading this book.

Here is an excerpt from the book which explains an assignment I'm working on right now.

 

 

101 goals.

Challenging.

Interesting.

And very helpful.

Today my friend said something that made me remember one of the goals I'd written down.

And because a rainstorm put the kabosh on our outdoor plans, we got to spend the whole afternoon actually doing something about it.

My goal is to "go through the Collage Discovery Workshop book and practice every technique."

I've been "planning to" go through it for over four years.

But this year I wrote it down.

It's a wonderful book.

 

 

And I had everything we needed to work through the entire first chapter on background techniques.

We didn't create any works of art.

In fact, I practiced all four techniques on one canvas.

 

 

First technique: Glazing Paint (sorry about the glare).

 

 

Second technique: Peeling Paint.

 

 

Third technique: Peeling Paper.

 

 

Fourth technique: Textured Paint (unfinished because it has to dry).

 

 

I'm learning a lot.

I'm learning that using "perfectly good supplies" just for practice is not a waste.

And letting perfectly good supplies sit untouched on the shelf because you don't know how to use them "correctly" is a waste.

I'm learning that the fear of failure and the desire for perfection are enemies that are slain by deliberate action.

And for me, in regards to art, that action is simply showing up and DOING something.

I'm learning to appreciate days that take their own course.

And how wonderful it is to have friends who are game for just about anything.

I'm even learning a little bit about paint and collage techniques.

The Master's Work and Masterworks

I was glad I had my camera around my neck when I spied this on the way out to the car today.

 

 

Guess I should have brushed the dead leaves away before shooting the picture, but I never noticed them.

I only had eyes for the beauty of the crocus.

Thank God for such lovely living things!

------

This is not a living thing.

 

 

But we have six wedding anniversaries on the family calendar for March.

 

That's a lot for March, no?

------

More breaking news from the boxes of dirt in the sunroom:

Rosemary, and her pal Dill, showed up today.

Yeehaw!

------

Tonight we have the privilege of hearing Miss Helping Hands play her violin in the Masterworks Concert at OSU.

 

Another inch of life for which I am truly grateful.

It's the little things that get you.

Yesterday, I finally took the time to blow out all those little, tiny quail eggs.

It wasn't as difficult as I thought it was going to be.

I just made a very small hole at the top.

 

 

 

A little bigger hole on the bottom.

 

 

 

And blew two large holes in my ear drums.

If you're laughing, I can't hear you.

------

Know what else I did yesterday?

I made Emeril's Wedgie Salad for dinner.

 

 

 

Oh, yeah, baby.

That's all I have to say about that.

------

And that brings us to today's exciting news.

Breaking news.

Look at this:

 

 

And these:

 

 

How can something so small...

 

 

...be so exciting?

It's called potential.

Some day, with God's blessing, they will look like these:

 

And that's just pretty thrilling.

------

So, there you have it.

 

 

Two more inches of my life.

The Staff and Stuff of Life

The Staff

Yesterday morning when I woke up I had no plan whatsoever to be in the kitchen all day.

But then...

 

 

...I got the urge to make bread.

I tried a new wheat bread recipe.

 

 

Molasses and honey.

 

 

And yummy whole wheat goodness.

Perhaps my impatience for spring is what brought on the bread-baking spree.

I just needed to see something grow.

From this blob...

 

 

 

...to these beauties...

 

 

...which today I call "Breadkfast"

I also made what I might later call lunch.

 

 

Makes me want to sing with Billy Joel.

"Uptown girl, you've been livin' in your white-bread world, as long as anyone with hot blood can..."

 

The Stuff

When I was up in the abandoned studio with Little Man the other day I found a walloping-big pad of quality watercolor paper.

I bought it several years ago to do some work commissioned by my neighbor (three copies of a family crest).

It must have intimidated me with it's great size, because after I finished the pieces I never used it again.

I don't have enough confidence in my talents to think I can fill a 15x20 sheet of blank paper with something wonderful.

But when I brought it down into the new workspace, I had the sudden realization that I am the boss of that pad of paper.

And I own scissors, craft knives, and paper cutters of sundry and wonderful kinds.

Yes!

Surely I could cut those sheets of paper down to a size suited to my skills.

So I did.

I cut them into one inch squares.

And I started my "Inch-a-day" project.

Just one little watercolored line-drawing to represent something from each day.

 

We're three days into March.

And I'm already thinking I might've overestimated my skills by about three fourths of an inch.
 

Why did the chicken cross the road?

 

Remember Marilyn,Tammy Faye, Alice, and Amy?

They're not such little chickies anymore.

They outgrew their litte home.

 

Now they've outgrown their bigger home.

 

They're very smart.

They read the newspaper.

 

 

 

Upside down, even.

And they're starting to fly.

The minute I lift the lid.

This chick flew up to perch and immediately became the envy of the other girls.

 

 

One of them tried to fly up and knock her off her high horse.

 

 

She took a few feathers out of that upstart!

 

"Guess I showed HER who's boss!"

 

I  still think they're pretty.

 

 

Even during their 'ugly duckling' phase.

But, alas.

They want to spread their wings and fly.

So my Chicken Raising Seester is picking them up today to take them back out to the 'ranch'.

Where they can have free range with all her other chickens.

And join in all their reindeer games. 
 

Pennies, Nikolas, and Dimes

My computer had a few issues over the weekend so, though I've been busy, I haven't been able to blog at you.

Techie told the computer just how the cow eats the cabbage yesterday, so now we're one big happy family again.

Sure do love having a home-grown Techie on my side.

One of the things I was working on while they decided who was boss, is a piece I'm trying to finish for my 'gallery wall' (aka my entryway).

I'm playing around with different papers trying to get a feel for the colors of the actual mats and frame.

Only the coins in this photo will actually be in the finished piece.

 

 

 

They are all coins I found on the street during fitness runs.

(Okay. Slow jogs.)

I'm trying to decide how to mount, mat, and frame them.

Some of them are quite defaced.

Some of them are actually cut, and many of them are marred beyond recognition.

But all of them are either pennies or dimes.

So I'm titling this piece:

"Rescued Money - Keeping Frank and Abe Off The Streets"

Do you like it?

And where should I put the title?

 

Another thing I worked on over the weekend was planting flower seeds in flats in the sunroom.

I haven't taken any pictures yet, because they would be pictures of large box-tops full of dirt, which I didn't think would be very pretty.

But now that I've said that to you, I think I will snap some photos tomorrow... and once a week, from now on.

It might be fun to see how many large box-tops full of dirt actually morph into something more exciting.

Something like Sweet Peas, Nasturtiums, Bachelor's Buttons, Marigolds, Impatiens, Cosmos, or Alyssum.

Yeah.

Something(s) just like that.

 

 

Today I snapped some shots of a historical moment: Naomi's first Grandshoot eating his first PBJ sandwich.

 

 

He liked it very much.

Before lunch, Naomi and I had followed Little Man up the stairs and let him explore the temporarily-abandoned studio.

It made me remember something important.

The other day when I drew this sketch...

 

 

...so I could make this pattern for the "chocolate bunnies"...

 

 

...I realized it had been way too long since I'd done any sketching.

It felt so good to have that pencil in my hand.

And to make something appear on that blank paper.

It made me miss my sketchbooks.

That's what I remembered when we were up in the 'real' studio today.

So I dug out one of my sketchbooks and brought it down into the real world.

And while we sat singing Little Man to sleep (and believe me, you'd go to sleep, too, if it meant you wouldn't hear Naomi singing anymore), I sketched a little bit of my own self and surroundings.

 

 

I love me some Converse All-Stars.

Oh, yes I do.

And I love me some pencils and paper.

Why do I ever stop drawing?

I've hardly drawn a thing since I finished these drawings of the Shoots' eyes.

 

 

 

I'm not happy about that.

Today I am committing to "putting pencil to paper" every day in March.

Even if it's only to do the quickest little sketch ever.

You all hold me accountable, okay?

Because...well...

I can be a little sketchy about follow-through.