Quick text

from Will:

"Just checking.  Did you walk your chicken today?"

with this picture....

Antonio Banderas

     Terry Gross' interview (Fresh Air) today is with the actor, Antonio Banderas--whose newest movie is "Pain and Glory."

     https://www.npr.org/2019/09/30/765698759/how-a-heart-attack-brought-antonio-banderas-closer-to-pain-and-glory

     Since I was in and out of the car--having had the good fortune to be invited by Kate to have fish tacos--I only heard parts of it, so I came home and there it was already, on the podcast.

     Banderas had a heart attack a couple of years ago and he talks about how that experience benefitted him as an actor, particularly in this role.

A few years ago, when actor Antonio Banderas was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack, a nurse told him that the heart was a warehouse for feelings — and warned him that he'd likely feel sad in the weeks or months to come. 

As it turns out, she was right: Banderas had always considered himself a "tough guy," slow to cry and not overly sensitive, but suddenly he found himself tearing up watching movies or listening to music. 

"It just gave me a perspective of who I was, and it just made the important things [go to] the surface," Banderas says of his heart attack. "When I say this, people may just think that I'm crazy, but it's one of the best things that ever happened in my life."

     The film was written and directed by Pedro Almodóvar, and it is based on his life as a film director.

     After discussing Almodóvar's struggle with depression, Terry Gross comments that his films are always stunningly beautiful in spite of the fact that his interior world was so dark.

       "Whenever I walk away from an Almodóvar movie," Terry Gross says, "I always think, 'I wish I lived in a visual world like Almodóvar creates,' because everything from the way walls are painted in the interiors of houses to the patterns people are wearing in their clothes and the way it's lit, everything is just so visually alive and vibrant, and the colors are always perfect...they're all just vivid and jumping off the screen....But when he talks about his life, he always talks about the pain of the soul that he has."

      Provocative interview--give it a listen if you plan to see (which I do) "Pain and Glory."

Winging It

One of the video collage instructors said,  as she was spreading colors on a page: "I don't know where I'm going; I'm just winging it."

Winging is not my style in some things, but  that is exactly what these projects have taught me to do--which has expanded my way of thinking about all kinds of things, not just paint on pages.

Yesterday I did three things:

1.

While gel printing with my mini Gel Presses (little 2-4 inch shapes, circles, rectangles, etc.) I decided to use them as stamps directly on a cardboard box meant for holding recipes (which I rarely consult any more.)

My palette was chartreuse, yellow, red, and turquoise--and I can see patches of the original black and white pattern of the box underneath in spots.

I touched it gingerly with a spiral foam stamp, then I applied a few strips of black and white Washi tape, then covered it all with matte medium.  The final touch was to adhere a button onto it for a knob--not that a cardboard box needs a knob.

As I was falling asleep, I decided to add a coat of gloss--and voila!  I had myself a shiny box, all squiggly and colorful.

2.

The second project of the day was my Bingo series.  I found some antique Bingo cards a few weeks ago and am collaging over each one, leaving some of the Bingo elements exposed, and adding as my focal point black and white vintage photographs.

When I go to antiques stores, I usually focus my search on papers--old letters stamps, memorabilia,  sheet music, and photographs.

3.

My final project was playing with Neo-Colors (water-soluble crayons) and oil pastels.  I prefer the former because it reacts with water and wet media and it smudges when you add anything wet on top of it, like matte medium.

I scribbled all over the page and watched the colors get soft and muted after the wet layer was applied, and I realized: I'm winging it!  It feels good to wing it.

When I was teaching at U.T.S.A., after many years, I began to wing teaching.  I'd have a general idea in place for the day, based on what I'd asked my students to read or write, but driving there, I'd often come up with a wing-it idea to make it all more interesting--at least from my perspective.

Art Resin: FYI

https://www.artresin.com

I decided not to use the brand I had on hand, and bought Art Resin for a variety of reasons, tops of which is that it's non-toxic and is said to have very little smell.

So if you are looking to do pours, be sure to get Art Resin.  It's more expensive than the "Amazing" brand at Michaels, but I've done my research and I'm passing it on to anyone who might want to try it.

I went back this morning and asked George to fill the torch with butane (you buy this in a can at Walgreens)  and he did it.  For dust protection, he advised getting unused pizza boxes to store the objects you're pouring on, to use a level to be sure your project is, well, level, and to put little push pin feet on small objects so that if there's drip it doesn't stick to other surfaces.

Speaking of local businesses, I stopped by Off My Rocker this morning and was sad to hear that Jo is closing the shop.  Online stores have reduced her sales dramatically and the rent for her shop keeps increasing.  This is the story for so many local businesses.

For those of you who shop Off My Rocker, Jo will be having a big sale and move in mid-November.  She's very sad about leaving her work of 17 years, and the community will miss her.

Finding Our Bliss

Pam tagged me on Facebook today with this message:

"I want time to craft, snack, and take naps.  Basically, I want to go back to kindergarten."

This from Pam--who knows me well, as these are indeed the components of my days.

I called Carlene today and said, "I have a problem.  I'm having too much fun!"

I had just bought a torch and a can of butane--which will remove bubbles from resin pours AND make it possible to make one of my favorite desserts, creme brûlée.

All I have to say tonight is this: If you have found your bliss, follow it with gusto.  If you haven't found it yet, look for it.  It's out there.

Circles and Shines

Back in my three weeks at the Best Western while my floors were being replaced, I did lots of fun things, including decorating round wooden trays with round paper circles.  Circles inside circles, applied with Mod-Podge.  Then I coated them with Mod-Podge.  They may not have been particularly useful as serving trays, but Carlene uses hers to store cards on her coffee table.

After making a few of them, I moved on to other projects.  But circles keep reappearing now on different surfaces.

Still, I wanted to make a tray that had a finish hard enough to be food-friendly, at least crackers and cheese friendly, but maybe even for two cups containing liquid.

This is where resin pouring came into play.

And so I spent much of the weekend making one.  Instead of circles inside, I cut a large piece of
collage-on-deli-paper (random shapes instead of circles) and used matte medium to coat it.  Then I got out a box of resin pour I'd had on my shelf for a while, mixed the two bottles 50/50, stirred for 6 minutes, then poured inside.

I loved the glassy finish over paper, but mine never cured.  When I tried it yesterday, it was still soft enough to pick up finger prints.

I tried scraping it out--but it wouldn't  budge.

So I made a whole new layer of collage last night in an effort to salvage it--after gluing trial papers on top of the resin to see if it was going to work.

After graduating from physical therapy this morning and going to yoga afterwards, I went to Jerry's Art 'O Rama to inquire about Art Resin.  This is the brand that's non-toxic (not the brand I had on hand), and another customer was buying resin by the gallon.  To get rid of the bubbles and facilitate curing, she told me, you had to use a propane torch--which Jerry's had.

Michaels and Jo Ann's are often my go-to places for art supplies, but the people who work at Jerry's make the extra expense worth it.  They know their materials and provide the kind of guidance you can't get at the crafts stores.

So now I'm home, about to glue the collage into the tray and try another pour tonight.

What's true of trays is true of life: what you see on the surface contains all its layers of growing and learning underneath.

Wednesday with Nathan and Elena

....and Yancy, the horse: Conroy and Charlie, the dogs; three chickens who live in a friend's outgrown playhouse;  Paco, the bird; and Nathan showing me the new snare drum Will surprised him with on Monday....

The chicken house

Paco on a Painting

We ended the day at a Thai and Sushi place on Dominion Road--because our favorite Japanese restaurant, Fujiya Gardens, was closed for remodeling and these kids love sushi.

The Beautiful Fantastic

Last night I stayed up til 3:00--and watched a delightful and refreshingly sweet movie on Amazon, The Beautiful Fantastic.  I'd give it a string of stars.  For those of you who love flowers and gardening, friendship, and quirky lovable people--it's a must see.

Then I did a bit of editing for a piece Will's writing and worked on my projects.  Today, I didn't  leave the house except for a quick paint run to Michaels and a drive-through taco.

I made a box for Rolodex cards and started three shadow boxes--after spending the entire morning making gel prints.  After the shadow boxes are completed, I'm going to have a go at another three resin pours to make the backing glass-like shiny.

Nathan called last night to tell me lots of things--that Will had gotten him snare drums (he loves drumming in his school band), that school--other than coding and band--is excruciatingly boring, and that he wants me to join his family on a trip to Japan this summer, as well as a trip to Virginia for Christmas.  (Turns out Day didn't know about this latter plan, but who knows?)

 

"the space to find our language"

Today's  Fresh Air on NPR featured an interview with identical twins, award-winning song writers, Tegan and Sara.

https://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/

For twenty years, since high school, the sisters (both lesbians) have been writing and singing together.

Twenty years ago, they say, interviewers never asked them about their sexual preferences, though they agreed it was quite obvious that they were.  Homosexuality was, they said, a "hot potato issue."

But they agreed that it was best that way as it "gave us the space to find our language." I love that phrase.  

Taking Time

I took the time this weekend to play at home alone, turning down a few good invitations to do other things--like going to a play, going to yoga, and seeing Downton Abby.  I made several things and tried my hand at pouring resin on a tray--which worked, I think, though it's still curing.

About 3:00, Pam texted that she was hungry and I realized I was, too, so we went to Stoneworks for salad and half a chicken salad sandwich.

I always call Carlene when I go for my coke run.  At Whataburger, the coke is free is you buy a biscuit for the birds.  I threw the biscuit into the yard and watched from my driver's seat as twenty or more birds had a feast together.

The first little brown bird descended upon it, then announced his find to his friends.  Within a minute, there were seven, then twelve, then more.  Then a Blue Jay joined them and they left him for a minute.  When Jay left, they returned, along with five doves.  A red bird watched from the roof and and a woodpecker watched from a tree branch.

"Birds share," Carlene said.  "They don't just take their biscuit and enjoy it all by themselves."

This morning's Brainpickings was an apt one for me: 

"To see takes time,, like to have a friend takes time," Georgia O'Keeffe wrote as she contemplated the art of seeing.  To listen takes time, too--to learn to hear and befriend the world within and the world without, to attend to the quiet voice of life and heart alike.  "If we were not so single-minded about keeping our lives moving, and for once could do nothing," Pablo Neruda wrote in his gorgeous ode to quietude, "perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves."

All Some Kind of Dream

Listening to World Cafe last night while gel printing, I heard an interview with the singer/song writer, Josh Ritter, and I wanted to share it with you--but I don't know how to do that here.

It's definitely worth a listen....

"I saw my brother in a stranger's face...." is the opening line.  You can hear it online in lots of places including You Tube and Apple Music and if you're interested in the entire interview it will be at World Cafe--NPR...

Today I got this little plastic rolling tool in the mail.

You could probably find the same thing in a cooking store if you were looking to make designs on a pie crust, even a better version of it, in a nice package, for way more than I spent on my peachy little crawfish-looking tool.

But I got mine in a round-about way, not being one who visits cooking shops;  I got mine from a tip by Cat Kerr at Joggles who uses one just like this to make various lines atop her paintings.  And ultimately, I got it from Amazon who got it from China and I paid $2.64 for it including postage.

(Where else would a person get a cutting tool that makes six different patterns for $2.64?  And who can imagine someone needing the dollar profit she probably gets by advertising, packaging, then going to the post office in her city and mailing it to America?)

It came in a padded envelope.  On the address label was the name and value of the product in English and Chinese: Cutting roller, $2.64.  Here's the return address:

Bao'an District of 
City Fuyong Qiaotang red hair industrial city


Of course, everything we buy from the thriving Dollar Tree is imported from China, but to get a single tiny tool from China, addressed to me, was quite another thing, kind of like having a pen pal who sends me presents.

Here's China:

And here's Shenzhen, near Hong Kong, right on the coast of the Pacific Ocean....

Last week, I received a package from Lithuania--a beautifully wrapped box of cardboard pieces for Elena and me to make a village of houses for Christmas.  The shapes are die-cut so well that the windows and doors fall right out when pressed just a little bit.

The package was impeccably wrapped, very neat and tight and sturdy.  The assembly instructions are printed in English. The return address:

Modesta Svidras
Baltijos pr. 109-17
Klaipeda LT-93225

Klaipeda, as you can see, is also a coastal city,  in Northwest Lithuania. I picture a woman named Modesta designing cardboard houses , then cutting them in an industrial die-cutting machine (maybe her family business uses die cuts and she borrows their equipment for her hobby of making paper villages?).

I would like to know more about Modesta Svidras and her life in Lithuania.  I think I'll write her a letter after I get these gel printed and assembled--which is why  I'm saving her address. Maybe she'd like to know one of her faraway customers.

My vintage  typewriter was shipped (via eBay) from Spain. The owner of the company coached me through some initial issues by texts.  His English is spotty, my Spanish is nil, but we managed to chat about typewriters and life .

In all three cases, the wrapping techniques are far superior to ours.  Every tiny part is wrapped securely and the boxes are exactly the right size for a tight and economical fit. My typewriter was so well packed that it literally took me  half an hour to get through all the padding and see a flash of turquoise.

Encounters with people from other countries enlarges my sense of geography and my appreciation of (and curiosity about)  different cultures.

The woman who sometimes cuts my hair is Persian.  She misses her mother terribly--they were hair styling partners in Iran.

The owners of Sky Nails are from China, a couple with two beautiful little girls, the wife being the "extra daughter" of a family who was supposed to have only one child.

Kasia Avery, who started and teaches Wanderlust classes, is from Poland--though lives in England with her British husband.

Online classes have introduced me to people from various places, mostly in Australia, England and  the United States, also a few from Poland and France.

Reyes, who works so expertly on my house and yard,  is from Mexico.

I'm lucky to have met and "met" people who are so kind, generous, and smart in what they do.

While the leaders of countries have political and economic beefs with each other, the people, the citizens, can almost always find common ground. We trade ideas, music, food, art, and material products. We're not so different.  We all love our families.  We all laugh and cry.  We all find passions that enrich our lives.

I'm  embarrassed at the moment to have a personally and nationally narcissistic president who touts the U.S. as "Number One." I always want to apologize to international strangers and friends who read hateful tweets and hear speeches by a man who denounces them.

From space, as an astronaut pointed out, there are no national borders, only one connected planet.  The outrage and protests of students all over the world yesterday--on climate change--was a reminder of what Martin Luther King said: "What affects one directly affects all indirectly."  Friendship with people all over the globe has always been good; now, it's imperative if our planet is to survive.

We may speak different languages and have different cultural ways of being, but we are all one humanity, connected by millions of invisible threads.

Good news for my neighborhood

When I moved into Alamo Heights over 20 years ago, one of the perks was a park six blocks away.  Actually, it was the across-the-street playground for the children of Cambridge Elementary, but parents and grandparents and children of all ages enjoyed going there after school hours, playing basketball for older kids and swings and climbing for little kids.

A couple of years ago, word got around that they were demolishing the playground for parking.  Some even said it was going to be a parking garage.

We've been holding our collective breaths since then, knowing that a place all of us and our grandchildren love was going away.

For the months of summer, the chain link fence around it was covered, so we couldn't tell what was going on, or up.

But now we have the reveal!  And thanks to the artistry of the planners, we now have a parking lot covering a portion of it, but an improved playground to boot--and it's beautiful.

Now, in fact, there are two playgrounds--one in the yard of the school, including a track for running and space for playing ball, and a smaller but very nice playground in the original location next to a simple parking lot, no garage.

The  original school itself is nearly a hundred years old and used to include all grades, elementary to high school. Now it only has elementary students and they've had to add more buildings to accommodate them.

But whoever planned this did a brilliant job of solving the problem of insufficient faculty and parent parking and retaining the playground.

The community can now use both playgrounds, and as I passed there this morning on my way back from Dollar Tree, I was happy to see that both are being enjoyed just as before the construction.  And without the screening, we can see the sky and trees again, too.

Two Saturday Projects

I went to bed last night at a reasonable time--for about five minutes.  Then I had an idea for solving one of my craft projects, and stayed awake until 2:00 a.m. clearing my spaces so I could work on it today.

(While it doesn't come naturally to me--what with the smallness of my house and my darting-from-thing-to-thing nature--the ideal studio situation would be to have one table for printing, one for paint, one for cutting, etc.  So I attempted to make that happen--as well as putting Gesso and matte medium in plastic squeeze bottles meant for condiments.)

1. Collaging on deli paper.

This is an idea I got from Jane La Fazio in one of the Wanderlust classes.  You take a piece of deli paper and lay little scraps of origami paper, one ply of napkins, lace, tissue paper, and sheer fabrics.  Each piece of paper or fabric is glued down with matte medium, then a thin layer of matte medium is applied to the top, piece by piece as it goes down.  You can keep layering as long as you like.

After it's all done, you can add a focal point and stitch it on top with the machine--or glue it if you prefer.  Jane used images from her watercolors as focal points, but you can use anything you like. When all the pieces are down, the whole piece acts more like fabric than paper and you can sew right on it--or you can cut it into strips and squares and reassemble it into another design.

My first effort required a quick trip to Michaels to get more matte medium just as they were closing.

Layer One

I laid it inside a round tray I'd made a few months ago and decided that it would be perfect for covering the bottom of the tray, but the deli paper wasn't large enough.  So the solution came, as solutions often do, just as I was falling asleep.  Tape two pieces of deli paper together, cut a circle, and voila!

So that's what I'm going to be working on today.

2. Journal in a Rolo-Dex tray.

I have a box meant for holding Rolo-dex cards.  I'm gel printing Rolo-dex cards and making "pages" out of cards to go into the box.

The problem is that the cards you can buy for Rolo-dex holders now are thin as paper, not the card stock they used to make them out of. The girl at Office Max said they didn't sell Rolex watches there--indicating either her age (who under forty knows what a Rolo-dex is?) or her assumption that I didn't know the difference between an office supply store and a jewelry store.

My parents used to use Rolodexes at work and at home to keep addresses, and I still fondly remember my daddy's handwriting on his cards--where he added notes from phone conversations.

So to solve the problem, you either have to find vintage cards or glue two flimsy ones together--then proceed to Gel Print or paint or collage on them.

The box itself can be decorated with gel printed pages, etc.--an idea I got from Cat Kerr at Joggles.

Both of these projects are meditative--capturing the mood I often get while traveling on the road, listening to music and podcasts.  I had considered moving my "studio" to the casita until Day pointed out that the way I'm doing it is best because my kitchen is the room in the house with the best natural light.

*****

Speaking of Day: she is now serving as interim Men's Lacrosse Team coach at her high school!  Since the real coach left for another school, and since both her boys are avid lacrosse players, she--who has never played a sport in her life--volunteered to coach a bunch of teenaged boys until a "qualified candidate" emerges.

She loves it so much, she hopes it will take a while to find a real coach.

When word got around that she was coaching, the teams ballooned in size, as she is a very popular teacher at Falls Church.  That or former students in her English classes were curious to see how their non-athletic teacher would manage as a coach.  She loves her current job so much, but as she said, it revolves entirely around teachers and she misses her contact with students..

I love the spunk of my daughter!  (Of course, Jackson--captain of the team--will be coaching his mom on coaching, but she'll catch on, I have no doubt, as this is how Day rolls!)

When she told her brother she was volunteering to coach a high school team, he said, "Of course, you did!"

And then he said what I've been thinking every time I hear her happy voice on the phone: "You sound like Daisy again!"

A day at Medina Lake

Today I left my hermitage and ventured out into the world--driving to Medina Lake for a delicious studio day and lunch with Joy.

A lifelong painter and illustrator, Joy showed me several painting techniques that I'm anxious to try: using transfer sheets, using a proportional wheel for reducing and enlarging pictures, and making vivid red with acrylics.

During lunch I looked out on the lake and listened to relaxing music and celebrated a long-awaited September play date with my dear friend, Joy.

Fifty-plus years ago, I remember riding to Medina Lake with Frank to see this little gem of a house he'd bought--a quaint wooden house with a loft and big windows facing the lake. It was the house of my fantasies!  Since then, they have more than doubled the size and it's filled with collectibles, art, tranquility, and good memories.

Art Shows

My kids grew up going to art shows.

One Halloween, one of the dads came dressed in flamboyant colors.  Holly, Frank and Joy's daughter, guessed what he was--an art show!

Elena's first art show--Victoria's--inspired her.  Now she wants to have an art show.

Joy has given Elena copies of books she's illustrated, and she's supported her art-making with scraps of fabric.

Nellie taught her how to make masks when she was three.

Day taught her how to make Zentangles, stitching by hand, and other artsy things.

Victoria taught her how to make wonderful splashy paintings with alcohol ink.

We love our artist friends.

Before going skating, she tried on all my scarves--on her head, around her arms, over her shoulders.  When she got the look she wanted she said, "I'm going to wear this to Victoria's next art show!"

Getting Outside the Lines

"I'm not a real photographer!" I protested--when I was asked to be the photographer for a book about women over 80.  I have no advanced degree in it, no special lighting, no studio--and have only taken a handful of photography classes.

I hear this all the time from people who do creative things:  "I'm not an artist! I can't even draw a straight line."

Who taught us that straight line rendering was the only yardstick?

Watching skaters skate at The Rollercade, it occurred to me that I'd like to walk up to every non-skating observer and ask, "What's your art?" I was thinking that the world would be so much sweeter if people claimed their artist-parts as skaters claim their spaces on the rink.  All the skaters--and all the watchers--were swaying to the music and smiling, happy happy.

At California Pizza afterwards, our waiter reminded me of Elvis.  He wore all black and had about six bracelets on each wrist.  "I make these," he said--before I even got a chance to ask him the question--as if my un-asked question had summoned him!

I pointed to the turquoise one and said, "That's my favorite color."

Without hesitation, he snapped it right off and gave it to me--a string of turquoise with one clear glass bead!

Today at physical therapy, Josh--one of my therapists--was singing along to the radio.  "Wow," I said. "You have a good voice!  Sing louder!"

As people do, when complimented, he acted all humble and teased me: "Something wrong with your ears, Linda?"--but he looked pleased.

I call this thing I'm doing "artsy stuff," but l I stop short of calling it "art." It doesn't need a label.  I can dart from one thing to another.

Last week I spiffed up an old rusty toy telephone with paint and plastic "jewels." Here it is with Humphrey beside it....it makes me happy.

Then I painted the 24 round wells in a metal tray meant for baking pan dulce.  I had gotten the seed of the idea from one of the Wanderlust teachers teaching us "steampunk," but it wasn't entirely new.  I remembered painting exactly the same squishy circles fifty years ago--in styrofoam egg cartons.

Elena and I  made "clay cookies" to add to our trays along with old keys and odd objects we've picked up on walks. She cut a little heart out of a bigger heart and when they dried, she showed me how the little heart could be put inside the big heart, taken out, put back in....

The best artist/teachers on the video tutorials make beautiful images. And yet, in the tradition of art journaling, they usually top off their pages with a cliche word or phrase, relegating all the visual art to "background."

I usually stop the video when I see the word or phrase coming.  Trite messages (that can be purchased on mass-produced tablets of words and phrases, like "Dream" or "Believe" or "Trust yourself,")  are glued on top of the much more interesting collage they've just made.

Still.  Here they are, all these wonderful people, making things that inspire me to make things. Nobody is saying "it's been done before" or "it's kind of messy." And their videos are getting thousands of viewers.  It's the Super Bowl of making.

Back in my former life, when big bold gestures were discouraged, when coloring inside the lines was the only way to go (on pages and in life), back when art was graded on neatness and following directions, "art" was about as intriguing to me as sports, nil.

I learned early to stay inside the lines--when my first grade teacher chided me for painting the courthouse purple, coloring outside the lines, and pressing too hard with my Crayola.  "Paint light even strokes," she said.  "Pushing too hard is not ladylike!"

To bring the lesson home to my first-grade classmates, she held up my colored mimeographed courthouse to show them how I'd strayed.  "The lines are there for a reason," she told us all.

Elena already knows what it's taken me a long time to learn:

"My art teacher doesn't let us do real art like we do.  She wouldn't even let me draw those funny faces we learned from that video!  I want to tell her, 'Lady, I know how to do art already!'"

Seventy to Seven

With Elena, I learned to use air-dry clay to make embellishments for our metal projects--her muffin tin and my pan dulce baking pan.

With Elena, I learned I could still run around the skating rink six times--no skates--and remembered how exhilarating music and movement can be.  Next time, I'm donning skates!

She's like me in some ways: she loves to paint and sew and tell stories.  But she's more like her mom as she moves her muscular little body in dance and athletics.

She's more a drama queen than I was as a child--protesting with tears if things don't go her way, like Sebastien and Makken not being able to go skating with us because they had had a full day already.

I am encouraging her to take her big voice and big personality to the stage and study acting or singing.

We skated again on Sunday--this time her cousins Christian and Audrey were able to join us.

Audrey and Elena

                              Maybe every seventy-year-old needs a seven-year-old teacher!

Humphrey

As a reward for her "excellent work habits," Elena got chosen to bet the first in the class to bring Humphrey the Hamster home for the weekend.

I was nervous.
Rodents--and anything rodent-esque like possums--give me the creeps.  But okay, it's my girl, it's her reward, I can do this.

I was all set to suggest maybe she keep Humphrey in the casita at night in his cage.  But when I picked her up after hip hop club yesterday, it turned out Humphrey--to my great relief--was a scraggly much loved STUFFED creature.

We have been charged with photographing Humphrey in all his weekend adventures, then Elena is going to write a story for homework about her weekend with Humphrey at Yenna's house.

Here's the pan dulce pan we're painting today--as Humphrey looks on

Here's Humphrey sitting atop the sea turtle Elena made of clay

The Beauty of What We'll Never Know

This is Pico Iyer in one of his three Ted Talks.

https://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_the_beauty_of_what_we_ll_never_know

         "So when we said goodbye that night, I realized he had also shown me the secret point of travel, which is to take a plunge, to go inwardly as well as outwardly to places you would never go otherwise, to venture into uncertainty, ambiguity, even fear." 

Where is home?

https://www.ted.com/talks/pico_iyer_where_is_home

Autumn Light

Because Nathan loves all things Japanese, his family is planning a trip there this summer.

Freda told me about a book she was reading: Autumn Light/Season of Fire and Farewells by Pico Iyer.  He's a wonderful writer and it's one of those books that makes me want to go right out and get all of his books before even finishing this one.

In this book, he conveys so many tender moments in his life in Japan with this Japanese wife, Hiroko.

I'd been looking for books about Japan for Nathan.  I'm not sure he'd want to read a memoir at this age, but I'm learning lots I can share with him.


     Nothing essential ever seems to die in Japan, so the land is saturated with dead ancestors, river gods, the heavenly bodies Hiroko gives honorifics, as if they were her country's CEOs."

     It took me a while, after I settled down here, to realize that every detail--the apples, the boxes they sit on, the table on which we place them--counts, because none of these things is inanimate in Japan.  Only yesterday, Hiroko remembered, "I small time, I kicking table--sometimes little angry--every time, my father say, 'You apologize! To table.  That table has heart. It never hit you.  Why must you hit it?'"

     If she threw a pencil across the room, she was told, she might have been flinging her brother against a wall.

     We cherish things, Japan has always known, precisely because they cannot last; it's their frailty that adds sweetness to their beauty....Autumn poses the question we all have to live with: How to hold on to the things we love even though we know that we and they are dying.  How to see the world as it is, yet find light within that truth. 

Typing

I now have two vintage typewriters, an electric 1960s Smith Corona for Elena, mine a manual Olivetti in turquoise. While hers will seem like a genuine antique to her, both are nostalgic for me.

Why would anyone want a typewriter?  people ask, and we reminisce about the long hours we spent re-typing pages back in the day, how we had to start all over if we hadn't left space for footnotes, etc.

For the fun of it is all I know--but so do a lot of other people, especially young people who seem to like the more tactile experience of typing over computer keyboarding.  Don't get me wrong--I wouldn't trade my Apple for an Olivetti or a Smith Corona.  But I love having it for playing on.

Kate gave me a typewriter cart identical to the one I bought in Boerne--except the one I bought was covered with clear coating and gold spray.  I only discovered this when I put it on my leather seats and it left gold flecks.  Thankfully, I had just learned in my art classes that pure alcohol gets most anything off, so I tried it, then followed with leather cleaner, and the car seats are fine.

Yesterday I had the idea of getting them powder-coated in bright colors, but learned that powder coating is not a good option on things with moving parts and hinges, so I'm going to simply have them sandblasted and paint them.

I had a little glitch with my ribbon, but took it to the typewriter shop (yes, we still have one) and he fixed it in a minute.

Typewriter sounds remind me of Carlene.  I listened to her type for years when I visited her office and she was lightning fast!  She could have fixed mine in a flash, I'm sure.

Sunday

I can't find food or cooking utensils.  My kitchen is filled with paints, papers, and stencils.  So tonight as I watch yet another YouTube video, I am cleaning my kitchen.

Nellie and Art are going to take classes at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina this fall.  I went to the website and ordered a paper catalog which arrived today, packed full of tempting classes in Appalachian arts and crafts, dancing and music, etc.  I'd love to go there at some point, but wanted to let you know about it in case it interests you, too.

Kate gave me an old vintage typewriter table that has been in her garage for years and I found another in Boerne yesterday, so one for me, one for Elena.  I'm considering having hers powder-coated in purple and leaving mine rusty.

Kate also let me try on her new shoes and they were so comfortable (walking sandals) that I had to come right home and order a pair.  They are called VIAKIX and you can buy them on their site or at Amazon.

Then Linda from Indiana--who lives on Argo and is deciding whether or not to move here permanently--invited Pam and me for a delicious lunch at her house before the two of them headed out to two art shows.

It's been a beautiful Sunday all around--good friends and slightly cooler weather and even a few drops of rain for a minute.

Victoria's Art Show Opening at Blue Cat Yoga

I love Victoria's art and her art shows!  Last night, I went to Blue Cat Yoga Studio to see the opening of her show--with Will and Bonnie and Nathan and Elena.  Here are my two tree-hugging grandkids hugging a tree Victoria and her yoga friends yarn-bombed! 

Kara, Nathan, Bonnie, Elena, Victoria, Trina, Charlotte, and a man I don't know....
posing under one of my very favorite of Victoria's paintings! Trina is the owner of Blue Cat and a wonderful yoga teacher.

Victoria and Elena
These two artists have an art and bird and heart connection....

The show will be up for at least a couple of weeks.  We had palettes and canapés and fruit and enjoyed the art--such a fun party!

Elena took advantage of the yoga studio and did a few stretches on the floor....

Blue Cat is a rspecial yoga studio downtown, next to the Magic Theater.  Afterwards, we spent a couple of hours in the park, Yanaguana, and I was surprised to see so many people playing outside after dark.

The first words I read this morning--besides the usual ones on signs between my house and Whataburger--were written on the back of a business card of a typewriter store.

Within the big tent of Christianity, there's a branch of it that has made "God" seem like a comic book figure who captures the describer's wishes and projections.   While there are religious people who are far more nuanced and intelligent, the branch that angers me expresses their beliefs in hokey memes and cliches they may have copied from the church bulletin.  The typewriter folks' card expressed it like this:

GOOD MORNING!

This is God.

I will be handling all of your problems today.

I will not need your help.

So, have a good day!


So when did  humans give up their agency to solve their own problems?  And since when does "God" write notes to humans using the phrase I believe started with the hippy generation: "Have a good day!"?

Anyway, I decided to have a good day anyway--with no divine intervention.  I drove up to Boerne looking for a vintage typewriter table and met a bunch of nice people.  I came home to nap before Victoria's art show and canceled my plans to go to Reyes' son's birthday party.  In this heat, I wilt at noon and want nothing more to be in my cool bed for a while!

         

Thumbing through a stack of old pictures, Elena found some black and white photos of Aunt Day I'd taken eighteen years ago.  She was draped in a Mexican blanket, but her big tummy was exposed, eight months pregnant. I had loved that she asked for these pictures--as in my day, nobody would have considered exposing what's now called a "baby bump."

"These are beautiful," Elena said, running her finger along the curves.

"Look, Daddy!" she said, walking into the living room to show him the three black and white photos.

He feigned shock.  "I don't think I want to see pictures of my sister half-naked," he said, grinning--to which she said, "Oh ye-eah, True-Dat!"

She has comic timing, a quickness of response that penetrates the usual filters and cracks us up. She's never been to Louisiana Bayou country, so we wondered where she'd gotten the phrase True-dat.

There's a presence in children that adults--if they pay attention, which her family does--makes everyone laugh in recognition (and appreciation)  of sudden bursts of truth-telling.  Like, "Yenna, you need to shave your legs better on the back." Or "Please tell me you're not wearing that!  I'd be so embarrassed!"

She's also too young to be ashamed of her opinions.  Adults listen to her and value her thoughts.  (I went straight home and shaved the back of my legs)

She recently rejected an art book I'd gotten for her at the thrift shop "because artists always draw naked people."  But when she saw a black and white photo of someone she knows, she was arrested by the beauty of it.

Maybe at this point, she can love the bodies of people she knows (if they shave their legs right) but is not quite ready for painted bodies of ancient strangers?

Extravagance

In a world that ranges widely between prosperity and poverty, I'm thinking today of all the ways I measure my present sense of abundance.

Of course, my most obvious source of wealth is in friends and family, a richness I never take for granted.

This year I have been extravagant in art supplies and I feel rich in colors and ideas and plans right now. I spent the first six months of this year gathering materials and watching others create, but my plan for the next six months is to practice more of the techniques and ideas I've gleaned from my many online teachers and inspirers.

Searching for textures and glossy fashion magazine pages (for photo transfers) took me to Boysville on Saturday where I spent an hour poking around and listening to opera.  I also bought a few shot glasses for making bubbles with alcohol ink. Good thrift shops offer all kinds of hidden treasures for making things, and Boysville is my favorite.

I also went  to the shops on Blanco where I found a wooden spool for making a spiral book I've been wanting to make and met a man who told me about a good local shop for vintage typewriters.

I got up at four this morning to make a lemon pie and chicken for dinner with my Texas family and now am going to take myself an extravagant morning nap.

I hope you all have an extravagant and juicy Labor Day!

Wanderlust 2020

For those of you interested in art journaling or just playing with paint as I am doing, there's an online course called Wanderlust 2020 that you might like.

If you sign up this week, they are offering a discounted price of $100 for 25 different teachers and a new lesson each week beginning in January.  I took Wanderlust 2019 and have so enjoyed getting an in-depth lesson every week of the year.

https://www.everything-art.com

Kasia Avery and her husband are the founders of these online courses and the teachers for 2019 have been excellent.