Stiff Brushes and Rusty Fingers

So, met that fork in the middle of the road and made an unexpected detour from the norm running  headlong into the past. So, what were your plans 40+ years ago? Not complaining, BUT, 180 degrees about describes the path and out of that comfort zone.

August was an eye opener returning to a painting class with no confidence and questionable skills. Just signing up for the 2 day workshop required an extreme amount of pressure and persistence on the part of a friend. There you are in way over your head ... just looking at every one's work. Gave the instructor 2 assessments she could give ...1] "That's nice" meaning it's not going to get better, just  go home and garden, cook or read. 2] "You need to keep painting".  Brought the unfinished canvases home and stared at them for days thinking of the "you definitely need to keep painting". Not sure they will ever be any different .... something to remember that feeling of frustration, rusty skills and most of all "I've missed this". Then the absurd occurs, overload of 4 and 6 weeks classes with a weekend sculpture workshop just because "it'll be FUN". Exhausted, pooped, worn out!!!! Obviously, thinking was not part of the equation. Having survived and with a more reasonable plan, am moving forward and learning techniques from the best artist/instructors ..... people actually teaching rather than leaving the student to eventually figure it out on their on.

Embarking on another reinvention; actually, this has been a rediscovery. Like writing, one can get lost in moving paint around a canvas or words around a page. Odd how long it takes us to learn and truly accept a few important lessons ..... 1] It isn't a competition; and this was a major struggling point generating envy. 2]  The word TALENT is qualitative and should be allocated to Mozart, Bach, Chopin; perhaps we should use skilled, studied, technique. We worry too much wondering if we have talent rather than can this skill/technique be applied. Sure did take a long time for this to sink in and be understood much less accepted. Shame on me!!

Ah, well, appears there is a need to paint everyday ... practice, practice, practice ..... the only solution for the improvement of any skill. And there is still a piano that hasn't been touched for the past 11 years.

Liar! Liar!

Liar! liar!
Pants on fire.
You tightened the noose.
Please let us loose
for completed idea
Before I die, dear!


O.K., extremely bad poetry seemed my only recourse ....  pleased with yourself?!?  We're allowed 15 whole words ... REALLY? I suspect you were and are looking over your shoulder.You must agree this was evil.

Plugs and Graphite

Here we are again in handcuffs. Do the rest of you wonder who put a burr under Jenny's blanket and rubbed her the wrong way?? Now on the other hand, thank you all for your encouraging and funny comments this last week. To write well enough to entertain and keep the reader hooked is nice. Now with the ascribed  miserly 25 words, here goes Saturday Centus .............  fill in the enoumous blanks.


Ultra light graphite doubled throbbing against the "really nice" bass digging deeper. Impatient to slip on down the bank, "PLEASE, lip it; I'm not getting any younger here."

Milk, Eggs, Bread AND .....

Hurry .... HURRY! We don't have time to dawdle, COME ON!!  Our list is really really long!!!! Racing up one aisle and down the next, shopping with preteen boys in tow is like herding cats. O.K., o.k., if you will  promise to stay in this department for 10 minutes and not cause a problem, I can get most of these things. PROMISE, boys!! "We're not babies, MOM." "I'll be right back."

"Would the mother of Brad, Josh and Cooper please come to aisle 17", blasted through the store giving her a start. Skidding to a stop "BOYS! What ARE you doing ??!!??" "Letting the tarantulas play together." "And the sign reads WHAT?" "But we didn't put our hands in the tank. We turned them over!"

That Starry Starry Night

Through the window, a deep, dark, velvet blue sky seemed filled with luminescent twinkling stars. Their light reflecting in the water of the bay. A breeze slipped out of the north creating a pleated ruffle across the surface. Fields of grass waved and bobbed in the insistent currents. The thunderous booming persisted. He sat there in the darkness awed by the spectacle wondering "How did I come to be here?" and "How will this end ?" "How long can we survive such barbaric violence?"

Picking up the pen, looked out the window again in the perdawn hours ..... the booming star burst flashes lite up the darkened sky and the waving Stars and Stripes,  he wrote ... "Oh,say can you see  ........... "   

 

Really, are you kidding??

When your evil mind takes hold and limit me to such confinememts .... you get what you get!!!! Saturday Centus in 62 words .... meany!!!!! Let me loose!!!!!!!!!

All my life fighting kinky curly hair. Yes, yes ..... those with straight want curly and well .... Humidity is the culprit. You can actually feel "it" moving up your neck and then "Frizzzzzzaaaaa"!! Every product known to man had been tried. NOW there is you and and sleek managable hair. NO FRIZ!! I unabashedly love love love you dear dear dear John Frieda!!!

Garden of Discovery

It had been a laborious 7 years realizing the garden before her, bringing a smile. Enjoying her morning tea on the secreted bench against the stone wall, she allowed a memory to surface. He had been a "grass" man. Well trimmed and mowed green lawns without obstructions were his goal.  However, January 22, 2000, the day before their 35th wedding anniversary that had all changed without warning.

Pull the covers over her head and hide .... how can this be .... cannot tolerate being in this bed, this room .... he had layed next to her .... touched her .... loved her .... held her .... kissed her .... whispered with her. All of this NEVER to happen again. The touch of his hand on hers or the arm casually thrown across and drawing her close in the middle of the night. Paint, rearrange the furniture, then she could return to that bed. Perhaps, sleeping in the middle of the king size bed would work. Everyone said "give it time" ... time to what ... not hurt .... her heart not to squeeze.

When she'd always been someones daughter, next a wife, then a mother, that person she was intending to be was left far behind as she became all the pieces required to achieve the present goals and other's needs: mate, housekeeper, cook, laundress, chauffeur, accountant, judge, friend, doctor, receptionist, secretary, event planner, controller of all things .... and on and on and on. The sudden realization that without notification she have, essentially, been fired. O.K., not fired but what? NO more need for breakfast or anything.    

So, now what? The first few years are numbingly painful. No one feels comfortable with what to say or not, for fear of upsetting her. What "they" don't realize is skirting the subject makes her want to go home. The inevitable finally happens .... many ole "friends"/acquaintances [couples] drop her from the invitation list. A few are persistant ... we are going to the concert, no is not an acceptable answer.Then there was the cruise,; when everything about her said NO, she heard herself saying yes.

Just about the time she thinks the worse has happened, lightening strikes .... literally. Well, of course, why not. What was that about control .... we have NONE!!!! So, there it is, plain as the nose on your face, take a tac, any tac ....DO SOMETHING! Repairs complete, just need to address the porch and the yard.

He said it so casually it almost was lost in the conversation .... "that will be $10,000 for the stone porch and walk"."Well, I'll get back to you." Was he out of his mind?. At that moment, she made a conscious decision. Grass - Garden - Grass - Garden ..... oh, and I can create the stone work with "my boulders". Work began in earnest in 2003. The hidden artist began to creep into the conscious with a vision. Today, look at this ..... the only thing lacking are birdhouses for the garden friends. Funny, she is creating one of a kind nesting at the pottery studio.

So, the bench against the stone wall for morning tea .... in the garden..... with the birds, squirrels, and fish ... you bet fish .... she put in a small 70 gallon pond for Magellan and Galileo. Still finding, trying on. traveling, catering, writing, fishing. OH, AND, the newest .... adopting a toss away puppy .... haven't told Finnegan [10 year old green eyed, grey tabby cat]. Her life had been based on deep, abiding, accepting love..... somethings never change. However, the artist has crept into every aspect of her life .... she was going to be an artist!!!! It only took 11 years ... one would think she was slow ..... well, it did take 7 years to create the garden.