Silent Night

Emily and I got home from Group a little while ago, and I'm just kind of sitting here and enjoying some down-time. I've thought a couple of times that I should turn on some music, but I haven't done it yet. Instead I'm sitting in the quiet, listening to all the sounds that bleed through from outside this room:

• "Clair de Lune" playing in Emily's room
• Someone going up and down the hall on what sounds like a Segway
• Cars and trucks speeding past on the highway outside
• And an obnoxiously loud, fast motorcycle - the kind that always makes me wonder what the rider is compensating for...

Almost Home

The Expo Center MAX station; last stop on the Yellow Line.

Walk The Walk

Been watching Food Network today. They have a new commercial that features Poe's song "Walk The Walk." That was the song (and the album) I had on repeat when I was doing the Batik painting.

I've slacked off a bit the last couple days. There's been a lot of stress, and it's left me feeling a little flat. But I know that if I want to call myself an artist, and really make a go of it, I'm going to have to do some work. I can't expect the inspiration and the ability to just be there when I want it, if I don't put some effort into it. It's a problem I've had my whole life - laziness and lack of discipline, especially with things that come easily to me.

So, new goal: put something on paper every day. Doodle, sketch, draw, paint, whatever. Gotta keep working...or the couch potato will take over!

Working

I've always treated painting as a luxury - a leisure activity that I couldn't indulge in unless everything else was done. When the dishes and the laundry were taken care of, when the house was clean, when everything else and everybody else had been tended to - then I would allow myself to paint. Except I almost never got to that point, and on the rare occasions when I did, all I wanted to do was go to bed! Meanwhile I searched for the answer to "What do I wanna be when I grow up?" because I was always very sure that I couldn't make a living as an artist. Now I find myself in a place where people all around me are making their livings as artists. I don't have a day job, and I'm left with nothing but time. All my excuses for not painting - everything that kept me from it - all gone. I remember my Granddad telling me once, years ago, that if I didn't find some way to use the artistic ability that I'd been given, it would be a real waste - and he was one of the smartest people I've ever known. Could it be that the thing I love to do is actually what I'm supposed to be doing? I don't know, but I no longer have anything keeping me from finding out.

This is just an exercise I'm working on, practicing lines & techniques, that kind of thing. It probably won't turn out to be anything, but it's fun to work on.

Page 47

Through three cheese trees
three free fleas flew.
While these fleas flew,
freezy breeze blew.
Freezy breeze made
these three trees freeze.
Freezy trees made
these trees' cheese freeze.
That's what made these
three free fleas sneeze.


- from "Fox In Socks"

by Dr. Seuss

Rin-Tin-Tin, or Anne Boleyn?

So I dreamed last night that Blues Traveler was in town and I was helping them set up for a performance in some little-bitty community-center kind of venue. For some reason, just as the show was getting started, John Popper had to do something in another room, and he told me to go ahead and start it off! So the guys in the band were playing and I was on stage, microphone in hand, and I couldn't keep up at all - I didn't know the lyrics well enough to sing, without having them printed in front of me. I couldn't even fake it - it was awful!

More Doodles

Perspectives

Watching the Pixar Shorts with Emily (she calls them "the little movies.") I love their ability to breathe life and personality into an ordinary object, like a desk lamp.

I always admire people who have the ability to look at everyday things in a different way, and to see beyond what is visible. It's a skill I'm constantly trying to sharpen for myself.

Of course, one sure way to force a shift in perspective is to hang out with a small child. We were playing this morning with some of Emily's play food; from the other room I heard Emily tell Ken "You have a donut on your head." In what world, other than the mind of a child, would that statement be made so matter-of-factly?

Work In Progress

Sample from the "painting" that I've been working on for the past couple days.
No idea what the finished product will look like yet.

The colors are inspired by watching the sun come up behind Mt. Hood.