It’s Never Done.

I worked very hard on this piece, but the problem was the board it was painted on. In the morning, I’m going out to Waukesha to fix the spots that the saw tore off when my dad was trying to smooth out the edges. Of course it happens, but I also have to add the hanging wire and paint the frame before Saturday, when it’s going to be put in it’s semi-permanent home.

My Mom asked my to draw a tree. No problem. Then she asked me to paint the tree, no problem at all. But how big are we talking? 4 feet x 4 feet. It’s the logo for her studio, the studio I’ve never been prouder of. Now only if we could get the painting settled, finished and on the wall, right on time for her 60th birthday.

I missed the painting when my dad took it yesterday, but it asks for more. Like a college student who called her mom asking how to make hard boiled eggs (thanks again mom!). However, by this weekend it will be up and we will all cross our fingers that I know how to install hanging wire and that my dad knows how to get it securely into a brick wall.

Things I’d never think I’d think today 2/21/18

1. I’m going to miss that painting, I can’t believe it’s done.

2. I’m ready for bed (it’s 7:40pm).

3. I wonder what my old professors are working on now…

4. I wonder when MIADs senior thesis opens up.

5. I put too much peanut sauce on this Pad Thai.

Life Lessons.

One time, I tried to make bread. It took a really long time to do and it turned out just okay. So, I never tried it again. I continue on with my life by buying bread at the store.

A Second Welcome Back

So, if anyone was paying attention when I said “Welcome Back!” last October, they would also have noticed that I haven’t posted anything since. I just reread what I had posted last October and I have a few updates.

My very dear old cat is no longer around. When I posted on October 17th of 2017 there was no way for me to know I only had a month and a half left and I miss her everyday.

I also can’t believe that I hadn’t put anything in that post about the traveling my boyfriend and I had done in September, a real doozy through the SouthWest. It was a trip from my dreams, two weeks from Oklahoma for a family reunion that then went to Taos, Santa Fe, Albuquerque, Gallup, Canyon de Chelly, Monument Valley, Durango, Kansas City and then back to Milwaukee. And that trip has inspired me to travel even more. I say this as I am currently planning a trip to Washington, DC for a (hopeful) view of the Cherry Blossoms in April and then on to Wilmington to visit friends on the coast.

I continue to work on the website I have that may never be what I want it to be, but practice shows effort and time spent is only time lost if you think of it that way. I still have the studio that I don’t make enough time for (and am currently figuring out the year-in-advance rent I pay), but that doesn’t matter as much as I thought. I work hard to pay for the space and I have it for when I need it, which includes the 4foot by 4foot piece for my mom that now (thankfully) has a deadline. I do better with deadlines…

I also remember a year ago, when I first thought I wanted the space, my boss and close friend told me that if I didn’t jump on the opening that I would always find a reason not to do it. He was very right as I am currently facing the next round of Girl Scout camp meetings and St. Patrick’s Day plans/ disasters. I am still the AGM of the Irish Restaurant & Hotel and I still love it very much, its a wonderful job that gives me the open-endedness to travel as I want. However, in the past four months I have been wrangling with a (possibly genetic) blood pressure issue that has had me running for the gym (pun intended) before heading to the studio. My boss also says that I over manage myself in trying to put all of these things into my life, but I think that my list is quite short compared to most. I think I might just be afraid.

I didn’t realize this when I revived this blog, but I think that having a space to work things out is a necessary thing for me. A lot of it comes from rereading of old journals and sketchbooks from my college days. I used to have so many questions and so many curiosities that I haven’t even considered in years. I’m actually on the search for my senior thesis as I think my current work reflects those curiosities more than it reflects the artists I was asked to look up for classes and the questions that those artists were asking. I think its also hard to want to create things that I won’t actually do anything with.

I don’t mean to be cynical, but as I create things I realize that I’ve always been a person that does things for other people. I went to college because my parents expected it (this is NOT a bad thing, I think differently because of my schooling and my BFA), I was promoted at my job many times because I always did everything everyone ever needed without asking (also not a bad thing, I love my job). I did my assignments because I needed to do them for a grade, and these days I create things that people I know and love ask me for. The one commission piece I had took me three years because I was afraid to even ask for money for something I made. As my talented mother once told me, “I would rather give the things I make to the people I love than sell them for less than I think they’re worth”. I only asked for slightly less than I thought it was worth, but I did make her wait 3 years, so it felt fair. Its easier to create things that have only technical/ sentimental meaning as opposed to facing a critique among conceptually minded artists, those whose pieces speak messages and agendas over the techniques and colors that I am drawn to. I would never say that those artists are wrong, my sister (and now studio mate) is one of the most intelligent and talented artists and writers that I have met and she is wonderfully conceptual. I have just always been drawn more to what is aesthetically pleasing and well done. Finished. Archival. Complete. Perhaps that doesn’t make me an artist. I think I’ve always thought that technique, construction, color and aesthetics are trustworthy aspects of a piece to make them worthy. I know that I am somewhat alone in this opinion. But that’s okay, I suppose. I have a space and create, that isn’t nothing.

Acoma Pueblo, Sky City. New Mexico

I love windows, doorways & ladders.

Welcome Back.

I haven’t been on here in about 4 years. I didn’t even realize this was still a thing I had. I have a blog, a place to write things out.

I have a website too, something i haven’t touched in years. Every year i write out my New Year’s resolutions, they’re somethings I want to take the time to do more of, to remember  as things that are important to me. Every year I write “fix website”. This might be the year that I actually do. Well, the year that I actually attempt to.

So, in looking at my website, I stumbled across the link for this blog that I forgot I had. So here I am.

As an update for my creative life, I got a studio last February. I didn’t go there as often as I wanted, but I’ve started making more of an effort, maybe because it’s getting colder and  I have less fun things to do outside. It’s been really great, I am finally creating on a regular basis, and even a few larger scale things.

As an update for my personal life, I live in Milwaukee still, with my boyfriend, my sister and our three dogs. My old cat is still alive, at the nice age of 17. I still work at the County Clare, as the assistant general manager and events coordinator. I’m on salary there now, and with the 50 hours I put in it’s hard to have the time and energy to be creative. But I’ve been working on it, it helps to have the projects that I’m working on, something to keep me engaged.

One is a 4foot by 4foot painting to my mom, for her studio that has become a business. I have a surprise for some close friends, a painting of their dog that they don’t even know that I’m working on. And the other is a commission piece that was asked of my 3 years ago, and with the studio space I am finally able to work on it regularly (without being afraid). I actually started the surprise  painting for my friends because I wanted to work on something that no one knew I was making, so I would be able to get back into the swing without being nervous.

Anyways, here I am. again.

 

img_0498.jpg

Sketchbooks.

Someone recently told me that sometimes its important to see rock bottom, to just touch it. So you know its there, to remind yourself of what you don’t want to become, what you need to watch out for. Rock bottom was in my field of vision this week, I was reminded of what a deep state of depression was/is and I was reminded of how close I live to it on a daily basis. I can’t really stop this, because it is just part of my life, but I can know what things I need to do to stay away from it.

 

So, I made some books. I needed to create something that someone else could see, use, create in. They were sketch books and there were three of them. I have always had a thing for creating books since viewers of this art are required to pick them up, to hold them, to feel my creation in their hands and to go through them. So to create sketchbooks becomes a challenge to fill them. You have to put something of yourself into something that I’ve created specifically for you. My three friends who received them were very thrilled, and I was happy to make something that they will use.

 

I worry that people will do what I do with new sketchbooks, meaning they are afraid to use them because they don’t want to ruin them, or waste them. I’ve had people give me or make me books that I’ve never used because I wanted to be sure that I put the right content into them, the right thoughts or feelings that would suit the creator that made it, that would match the amount of thought put into it for me. Maybe someday I will consider my thoughts or sketches worthy of these books, maybe not.

I used to want to be something more.

A letter to a friend who reached out to me.

Its really hard to find a therapist that can actually help, because you have to be able to trust them entirely.

 

I stopped going to therapy because I found myself lying all the time, even though I knew it was confidential. There was something about telling someone everything that I just couldn’t do, and the things that I’m doing are not good.

 

Self medication is tough, because people will turn to all sorts of substances to avoid how they’re really feeling by not being in their true mind. By self medication I mean alcohol or other drugs. I’ve definetly gone wayward with some of that kind of stuff, and I always thought that cutting was a form of self medication. Doing something that wasn’t good for you to try and help, I mean.

 

Lately I have different vices that help me get through the day. I’m a painter and I’ve always found that creating helped distract me from my own thoughts. Then, afterwards I feel a sense of accomplishment that makes me feel better. I have also found that talking to friends was helpful, just because I trust them more than therapists and because their advise doesn’t come from schooling or books, or from a perspective where they have to say things a certain way. Their advise comes from their own experience and hurts, losses and thoughts, and its more candid than anything else. Sometimes just sitting near someone helps.

 

This is going to sound crazy, but I also tell myself things every single day. Things in my head that I have to remember to get through the rough days. “Don’t give up”, “You’ve been through worse”, “Tomorrow will be better”.

 

Because its true, you cannot give up on the one person that you will always have, the one person who has always been there for you, good or bad. You cannot give up on you.

 

I have been through worse, I have. I’ve tried to kill myself, i’ve been through funerals of people who have also tried to kill themselves, i’ve been through breakups, heartbreaks, family problems, friend problems, i’ve had the worse days in the world. But i’m still alive, I’m still here. I got through it, so no matter what happens, I can get through it. I’ve been through worse.

 

And lastly, tomorrow will be better. Today may be bad, it may be really fucking bad. But as long as you remember that you’ve been through worse and that you cannot give up on yourself, you can remember that you have tomorrow. And tomorrow may be bad and the next day may be worse. But there are many more days, there is a whole lifetime that you have for yourself, that you make for yourself.

 

I work hard, I have horrible days. I have great friends who listen to my whining. I have my paintings, my writings, my books and my medication (effixor, 37.5mg, slow release), and I have my dog who keeps me warm at night. It gets better. It never goes away, but it gets better.

I have a thing for australia.

“life is how it is, not what it was”

 

I have been blessed in any sense that the word blessed could mean to me. Unreligious, perhaps spiritual, but blessed just the same. My life is ever changing, people come, people go, then come back again. They lie, the tell the awful truth, the amazing truth. They touch me, and mean something to me, then leave. I have to do damage control almost everyday, because the highs and lows are extreme enough to do enough damage that requires controlling.

 

But you have to let go, to be able to move on, evolve, love, be hurt, love again, become jaded and then to survive anyways. I guess thats what everything comes down to, you just have to be able to survive. To live, and then survive the damage you’ve done to yourself. I’m doing my best to live my life, and its hard sometimes, amazing at other times and then it hurts me. But I live, then survive.

 

I received two pieces of mail in the same day. One was at work, it was a card from a coworker telling me that she valued our friendship and that life was hard, but it got better. It has a cat on the front of it. The other was a poem from an old friend whom I love more than anything. I don’t understand poetry, but I read it again and again and it touched me. The last two versus changed everything. At some point i will probably post them. The card had trees on the front.

 

The point is this, to live then survive, to love then loose is just how it goes. And today I realized that no matter what happens to us, we have each other. We’re all human, and imperfect people, but we’re all in this together.