Dishwasher Souls and Zombie Bunny Adoption Services.

Yesterday was... a day.  I've got a short fuse when it comes to Teh Dum as a general rule, and yesterday hit the wall on it somewhere around 11 in the morning.  Having to deal with no less than THREE misogynistic a$@holes when I went to the convenience store next to my office building after lunch?  In under 5 minutes?

Ugh.

I spent the rest of the day holed up in my office with loud, angry music blasting through my headphones and avoiding the world.  Got home, Boy cooked dinner, and after several attempts to find some occupation for my brain that didn't involve dealing with the Things What Annoyed Me (ie, everything), I gave up and opted for rum and Lovecraft.  Bedtime rolled around, and the following conversation ensued...

"I'm taking my Necronomicon and going to bed."
"You know, that's not something you hear, as a rule."
"We occasionally wash souls in the dishwasher, too.  This isn't really all that unusual."
"True."

Did wake up in a vastly improved mood, at least, though I spent the first couple of hours trying to remember the weird dreams I was having.  By the end of the second cup of coffee, one of them cleared up.

Apparently Lovecraft + Rum = Zombie Bunny Adoption Services.

Clearly I need to go to the craft store and acquire cotton batting for this.

A Walk Along The Charles, Photographic Edition

It was a gorgeous day, and so the camera and I went for a walk along the Charles River.  It's not so bad, now that they've cleaned it up.  

Art is Work: Long, Occasionally Tedious, Time-Consuming Work

There's a photo of a bumper sticker wandering around FB today that got me thinking about how so many people have this weird (and admittedly annoying) idea that art is not work.  That artists (jewelers, designers, photographers, writers, etc.) just sort of snap our fingers and finished work appears.  I'll admit, most of us don't help that image.  I mean, really, who likes showing people crappy, unfinished, half-naked work?  Most of us are perfectionists before you throw in the fact that we have so much of our Selves in our work that we don't WANT to expose our flaws publicly.  We've got bad enough self-esteem, as a general rule.  Why open ourselves up to more ridicule by showing bad work?

Except we're not helping ourselves by perpetuating the stereotype that art is easy.

It's not.  It's WORK. Sure, sometimes we have days where we're on a roll and we manage to throw something fabulous together in a heartbeat.  I've had days making jewelry where I sit down and before I even know what's happened, I've put together a gorgeous necklace in under fifteen minutes, that sold before I even managed to put a price tag on it.

Most days, though, it's not that easy.  The piece I'm working on right now?  

I'm in my 4th hour now, and I haven't even finished getting the basic linework done, let alone put a single drop of paint on it.

Realistically, that image up there looks more like this:

I've spent probably half of that time working on scribbling out test sections (bottom sketchbook) before I put the finals onto the working page (top one).  I spent hours hunched over my laptop scanning page after page of the Book of Kells, taking copious notes (small notebook on the right) and screen captures (laptop on left).

The LINEWORK is only about halfway done.  Then I'll need to paint it.  Then trim it, frame it, figure out what I'm going to price it at, if I'm going to scan it for prints, take 50 or so photos until I get the one that depicts it accurately enough to put it online for sale, market it, sell it, figure out roughly what I'll need to pay the government for taxes on on something that, all told, might make me a couple of bucks.

Not "real" work, huh?

That does not include the fact that I've spent most of my life practicing drawing and painting, usually in the few minutes a week I can rip away to scribble in the margins, between my day job, eating, sleeping, seeing my Boy, cat-time, chores, etc., the cost of supplies (drawing paper, paint, pencils, matting materials, frames... none of this stuff is cheap)...  The amount of times that I do NOT finish a piece, simply because I'm too tired to see straight, let alone draw tiny, precise lines or know where the piece is going, or because I need a critical piece but can't afford to buy it, is staggeringly depressing.

I'd much rather devote my time to finishing work, so I can create more.

So that's that.  A peek behind the curtain, as it were.  Welcome backstage.  Finished products NEVER show the amount of work that goes on to get them there.  Art is work.  Supporting artists means paying us so that we DON'T have to work the day jobs that take precious time away from our ability to do the work that we want to be doing.  Telling us our stuff is pretty/thoughtful/evocative is nice. Giving us the means to do it is much better.

Small Business Spotlight - The Vagabond Tabby

It's been a while since I had a post of "OMG! I found this little business and it is AWESOME so people should check them out and keep them going!"

I don't remember how I came across Kate at The Vagabond Tabby and her handmade soaps... Twitter was probably involved... but am I ever glad I did.  (The website does have a different URL at the moment, due to the rebranding process, but it is correct.)

She makes "crap free" soap by hand.  It is my new favorite ever.  My skin is annoyingly sensitive to a lot of things, my nose is not a fan of most synthetic perfumes, and my bank account is not a fan of the cost of most higher end soaps that I don't react as easily to.  So, I tried her stuff.

This is awesome soap. A lot of natural soaps have a bad habit of dissolving into a gelatinous blob (too much glycerin, or something) on contact with water, and few last more than a week or so as a result.  I've been using the same one for a couple weeks now, and it's still holding it's solid bar shape and probably has another week to go before I need to open my other bar.

Another nice thing is that, unlike most soaps, hers does not dessicate my skin on contact.  Dry skin is my nemesis, especially in the dead of New England winters, and this is the first soap I've encountered that doesn't make it worse.  That, in itself, is enough to make me a fan for life.

Scent-wise, hers are very nice.  They're not overpowering or cloying, but are just the right level of scent.  Once again, unlike a lot of natural soaps, even after weeks of being used and living in the shower, the scent hasn't really diminished.

I may also be fond of her, as she's a fellow wanderer and fan of tabby cats.  ;) She's a really nice person, on top of being a great soap-maker, and I adore the internet technology that has enabled me to "meet" her.

Seriously, check her stuff out.  I thoroughly intend to start working my way through the rest of her offerings, and think everyone else should, too.  Really, who doesn't love chemical-free skin care?

Who Knew That Irish Things Would Be The Catalyst?

I may have spent my weekend alternating between the St. Paddy's parade in South Boston and combing over every accessible inch of the Book of Kells.

I may be a wee bit fond of my Irish heritage.

Good thing, too.  It got me drawing again.  So much so, that I may have burned dinner the other night because I was distracted by art.

Getting there, though...

Medieval Humor, or Why Is That Man Doing Yoga In The Middle of The Gospel of Matthew?

I kinda wish I could read Latin, so I could decide if some of the artwork in the Book of Kells has anything to do with the text, or if the artists just randomly decided on occasion "Gee, what this really needs here is chicken mating rituals" or "Hmm, that letter P is boring.  I'll bet having a peacock licking it would make it better."

Or this, at the end of a random sentence ...

In related news, I may be taking copious screenshots and sketching notes of neat bits...

The Book of Kells? ALL OF IT???

They finally finished it.  It's finally done.  I will now die and go to little half-Irish artist girl heaven...

HOLY CRAP THE ENTIRE BOOK OF KELLS IS ONLINE AND FREE TO LOOK AT.

*dies*

I have been desperately wanting to see all of this for pretty much most of my life. This is, to me, one of the most singularly beautiful works of art EVER CREATED.

EEEEEE!!!!!


So pretty....

Climbing Into The Light

I went for a walk the other day, and felt the heat from the sun for the first time in months.  Winter's grip is finally loosening, and though we may yet have more cold and more snow, the countdown to the seasons of growing and green has begun.

I think I figured out what the piece that I got stuck on wants to be.  This is involved.  Need to find or make a frame, though, and figure out the foundation, but it's moving forward again, too.

So glad to be working again.

"The perfume speaks..."

Dark Water and Old Bones....

It's been looking like this for days, tormenting me.  It doesn't know what it wants to be, or I don't, or I just can't get my slow brain to understand what it's trying to tell me.  It's like trying to see through dark water, or tell who the old, dry bones unearthed in garden once belonged to.

Feh.

February is my nemesis.  I want to sleep until spring, but I'm really just so tired of endless greys and browns, dull and dark and dead.  I want greens and reds and purples. I want warm breezes and the smell of damp earth.  I want birdsong and the whispering of wind in leaves and the feel of grass beneath bare feet.

Or, I could settle for this piece telling me what it wants to be...

Found Nemo... Can We Give Him Back?

This was the view from my porch yesterday morning.

This was the view this morning.

The statewide driving ban doesn't lift until 4 pm today. There's still no word on when the parking ban will lift, so gods only know how long I have to leave my car up at the municipal lot it's been in since Thursday night.

*sigh*

Nemo ranks as the 5th highest snowfall in Mass. history.  The nice thing about the travel ban?  Apparently there were about 60 cars that ignored it and had to be dug out.  No fatalities.  No major power outages from people driving into poles, etc...

Comparatively, Maine had a 19 car pile-up.  At the BEGINNING of the storm.

Thank you, Gov. Patrick, for the proper use of executive decree.