New.

i'm working on a new project. it's almost ready to be released into the universe.

i really hold belief that this year will be a year of "new" for me. i will push myself to try new things, do new things. i've already started with this new project of mine and there are a few more "firsts" on my horizon (just put a deposit down on something i've always dreamed of doing, SUPER excited about that).

the other day i had a first in my house. i've lived here for about 5 years and have never had an incident on my crazy steep 1800's stairs. the other day, i did. carrying a fresh cup of tea up to my studio i stumbled and crashed down on, simultaneously, my shin, knee, and thigh. hot rooibos dripped from the walls and downward like a slinky along the steps. as one of my cats chased the river a stinging pain coursed up my leg and left me immobile. Damian was out at the time and all i could think was "am i going to have to sit here until he comes back? i have things to do dammit!" luckily sensation returned and i hobbled down towards the kitchen to refill my mug. i now have some artistic bruising in 3 spots on my leg, lovely colours i must say.

i have twice opened up to how i'm feeling to others (not like me, i tend to keep it all inside) and it has helped to lighten my metaphorical steps. lesson learned there, definitely.

newness and change opens creativity and this year i long for that more than ever. it's time, i've waited long enough. let's do this!

sensory imagination

A seashell sat beside me on the subway this evening. That is, a man who smelled of a seashell (an endearing scent on a shell but not so much on a human). He had a musty salted scent about him, like when you collect shells off a beach in a little plastic bag and seal it up until you get home. Upon re-opening it you are struck with a warm sea air mingled with plastic. the scent of an ocean home long ago abandoned by a little creature.

the seashell was picking his nose and reading my book over my shoulder. very un-seashell like if you ask me.

much like a little ocean creature, the seashell eventually relinquished his temporary home (the seat beside me). his exit made way for a summery clothes line of fresh linen with blonde hair. i enjoyed the remainder of my ride on an imaginary light breeze.

what say you, universe?

i wrecked that painting. i spent all afternoon and night working on it and then something happened, some beast took the reins and overworked it into a blotchy mess.

i guess it wasn't meant to look the way i intended it to. It didn't want to follow the path i was creating. I wonder what it's supposed to look like? We shall see, for I will attack it once again. Damian said "well i guess that's why pencils have erasers!" i liked that, it made me smile. in this case my eraser is a big bucket of gesso.

Do you ever have a visual in your head and then work that vision to death until it becomes something entirely different, like a muddled blob? My problem is that i think too much. i have to reprogram my head and stop doing that, i have to just go with it and let whatever voice from the universe that's trying to say something flow out and say it! Generally, as i've found out, the mess tends to recreate itself into something better. It's still hard to say goodbye to the pretty hidden under the pile of yuck but oh well, moving on.

First i think i'll have a cuppa and float under some bubbles, maybe flip through a magazine and get some inspiration for a new project i'll be playing with later. i'm so excited about it, it requires the use of Damian's workshop and safety goggles! Fun fun fun!!!

p.s. i just discovered a tangle of black paint in my hair. luckily it's in the ends because it might require scissors to remove it.

something about stillness

my sojourn into freedom is almost over. in a few hours i will have to go to bed in order to wake up at an hour which should be illegal to see (unless you're already awake and loving life as it approaches). It's been 2 weeks since i've had to wake up to 5:30am screaming an alarm of radio pop music at me, i'm not looking forward to doing it again.

this post is not (necessarily) a complaint, more of an observation.

yesterday as i sat cuddled into the corner of my couch with a fire burning and twinkling tree lights illuminating the room i realized just how much i love my house. i adore being home, i love the history my house holds (it's over 140 years old), i love the comfort of it's walls. I also realized how in these two weeks of unregimented time i was able to think again, come up with new ideas. My head was not the property of someone else's schedule, it was mine, all mine.

The ideas were flooding in at a feverish pace, i was getting excited to implement them. Now is the year (as everyone no doubt is saying) to change it all around. I can't spend another one as i did the last, full of monotony, commuting, and blah... for lack of a better word. I need some real LIFE this one around, life i can enjoy and be excited about. not that sitting behind a desk pushing papers and scheduling other people's meetings isn't full of adventure (i can't tell you how many times i had to climb glaciers to get a bag of chips to a meeting or outrun a bounty hunter when i didn't get my cab invoice in on time, phew). sarcasm at it's best baby.

Join me in the positivity, this is it! if 2012 really is the end of life as we know it then all we have is 1 year. Let's live it magical, colourful, wondrous, sexy, exuberant, daring, alive! Lets make 2011 our bitch!

au revoir '10

My last masterpieces for the year, i'm pretty impressed with myself. both are highly original and painted-by-numbers. Santa left them for me in my stocking. that one on the left there, belongs in the Louvre i'd say.

This year is almost over and i'm looking forward to new things, hopeful for freshness, adventures, chances, change, and perhaps more regular blog updates.

so goodnight 2010, i'm off to open a rather sexy bottle of champagne and watch you turn into 11.

the Ma wisdom

Today Damian & i had his mother over for lunch. She wanted to see my studio and what i was currently working on. I brought her up our treacherous 1865 staircase and into my paint splattered haven, she shifted left to right right, up to down with her eyes. Within those glances she had decided something, upon inviting reds and blues, and worn out papers into her minds eye she turned and said to me "quit your job and do this!"

we should always listen to our mother right? so should we not also always listen to our mothers-in-law? a mother is a mother and they always know best.

it was another boost to my dream within a span of 2 weeks. the first boost being that the piece i painted for auction at work ended up (after a starting bid of $30) going for $440!

bring it!

p.s. photo above is available as prints in my shop!

delinquent

i didn't want or mean to be away from my blog for this long. sigh. there's been a major change/shift in my day job, the 9-5 that pays my bills. this shift has resulted in less "me time", resulted in no lunch breaks and a tired worn out moi at the end of the day. this worn out me has lost her motivation and energy, she has lost her inspiration. all she wants to do by the time she gets home is tumble into the bunched up sheets on her bed.

luckily last weekend this "she" got sick. odd? yes, odd. Friday last week saw a sore throat develop. By Saturday the sore throat had invited a runny nose on board and together they began to collect humiliating thoughts of tampons in each nostril to quell the drip. Dayquil and whisky were taken to minimize, nay, mask the symptoms.

However, i had a stupendously productive day in my studio that Saturday (thank you Jack Daniel's). Two paintings were completed, one for auction (pictured above) and one for sale at a later date in my shop. From now on i will lick subway hangy-on poles and socialize with small virus infested children (paddy cake paddy cake bakers man, bake me a flu as fast as you can). who needs inspiration when you can get sick? apparently i work best under this sort of infected pressure.