SNEAKING OUT OF THE HOUSE

So sorry for the long lag between posts. It was my Hubby's fault. Apparently my computer acted up one time too many, and the next thing I knew, he had ordered me a new one. Some people get excited about things like that. I do not. It's only taken about 40 years for him to catch on, but he's finally glommed on to the fact that I learn differently than he does. He always wanted to be sitting at the helm, typing away at lightening speed, calling instructions out to me over his shoulder. Not only could I not see what he was doing, but anything I heard was going in one ear and straight out the other. Then there was the fact that every time he transferred stuff from one computer to the other, I either lost months worth of recipes I had typed into the computer, or ended up with duplicates, then triplicates, of every photo I had ever imported. So, every time he announced that he had bought me a new phone or computer, I cried. This time it was different. He actually let me sit at the computer, and gave me time to take notes that I can refer back to when I have forgotten how to find or do something. I learn by doing, and by repetition. Give me two or three years and I'll have this down pat! And he'll be shopping for my next one...

Anyhoo, a week or so ago we had a pretty adventurous day, at least by Covid-19 standards. First I had my weekly meet-up with my Muses, via Zoom rather than coffee shop (Aaach, more new technology!). Then I actually got to go for a car ride, which led to a bit of synchronicity. Squeee! It started with daughter Lex sending us a message saying she had sewn some masks for us, and if we'd like to come get them, she could leave them out on the porch for us. Since we had a big box of diapers we needed to give her, we said "Heck yeah, a porch swap would be great!" I knew that Calvin would be pretty sad that we couldn't come in and play with him, and was wishing I had a little surprise I could take to him. So, I went to dig around in Mima's Magic Closet and found a fantastic book full of pre-decorated pages that you pull out and fold into paper airplanes. Perfect!

Lex and Calvin came to the window when we got there, and when I held up that book and pointed to him, you should have seen his face light up. In fact, he started to run to the door to throw it open, and Lex had to grab him fast, and remind him that we can't be together right now. That was hard. Really, really hard. But, on the bright side, as we were driving back home I reached into the sack to pull out a mask, and discovered a new letter from my little pen pal was in there as well!

Shortly after I discovered it, I got a text from Lex saying "Calvin really loves his paper airplane book!", so the two things got me to thinking -- about paper airplanes, and about what I should paint on the next card I send back to Calvin. That's when synchronicity struck. Suddenly a memory floated up, of a class I took online with Danielle Donaldson a while back, called Wild Blue Yonder, where we painted skies full of clouds and suns and birds and paper airplanes! I dug around in my stash when I got home and, sure enough, there was a little painting, just the right size to turn into a post card for my favorite pen pal. How lucky was that?

This week I started another art class online. This is a monthly subscription class, where I get new lessons each month, so it ought to keep me busy for the duration of this pandemic, and beyond. It's being taught by one of my favorite artists, Lucy Brydon, who lives in Scotland. I sometimes wonder which I love more, the way she teaches, or the way she talks! So, I'm off to paint mushrooms now. Catcha later!

THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING

Right around this time last year, one of the most exciting things ever happened to me. I opened my newly arrived issue of Art Journaling magazine and found a 5-page article about my Sudan/Barcelona travel journal right there in it. It wasn't exactly a surprise, however. I had mailed the journal to them for consideration months in advance, then had a very long wait before they told me it had been accepted. That was followed by weeks of answering their questions, and writing an article to go with the images and getting that approved. Then there was the shock of finding out that, unlike the first time, when I just had one image printed on a half page at the very back of the magazine,  I was actually going to get paid for this article! By the time the issue with my article came out, well, it was almost anticlimactic.

Months later, the fall issue showed up in my mailbox. I was doing my usual quick flip-through, sitting on the sofa next to my hubby, when I startled and gasped. "Was that what I think it was?" Yep, there it was, big as life -- a blown up segment of one of my journal pages, in the "Written Word" section, no less. Now that was a shock!

This image is not one of mine - just wanted you to see the description above it.

Well, guess what happened again this week, when the new winter issue came out? Yep, you guessed it. And, again, it was about the lettering.

Why am I so flabbergasted? Well, because my lettering is the thing I've always been most self-conscious about -- especially now that everyone is so big into lettering and calligraphy. The only bad grades I ever got in elementary school were in handwriting. I just can't keep anything in a straight line, and when I took that lettering class at art camp this year? Well, I enjoyed making the pen, but using it? Not so much. I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not a a slow-and-precise kinda gal. I'm more of a quick-and-messy one. And ya know what? I'm learning to be okay with that!

As my daddy was fond of saying, "Just shows tuh go ya!" We are our own worst critics, are we not?

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: TAKING A LEAP AND FINDING ONE'S TRIBES

Today we are flashing back to a few of my important "firsts",  which took all of the bravery I could muster, but ended up paying off in a really BIG way! 

My Very First Blog Post

 My First Attendance At A Women's Conference: Story Circle Network

 My First Trip To Lucky Star Art Camp: Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

LUCKY STAR II: EVERYTHING FROM HO-DOWN TO RAP

On Saturdays at Lucky Star we just have one morning class, and the afternoon is free for anything from horseback riding and archery to massages or exploring the local hangouts. Lex took a Shibori (indigo dying) class which she absolutely loved!

Can't wait to see Little Calvin and his dad in their matching tie-dyed pants!

While she was doing that, Kathy and I went off to learn how to make our own watercolor paints, with Austin artist Heidi Miller Lowell.  Soooooo much fun!

We each got to mix and name several colors of our own, but we made enough to share with everyone else.

Loved it that Wimberley friend LaNell was in all but one of my classes this year!

Thanks to the sharing plan, this is what I got to bring home with me. WooHoo!

And then it was time for our final pow wow, where we have our closing speaker (who knew that fellow camper Camille used to be a stunt rider in movies like Young Guns II and City Slickers?), performances by the Girl Guitar and Glee Club groups, and last but not least, the Lucky Star Market, where people like daughter Lexi can sell their wares!

Our Glee Club medley went from spiritual...

to R-E-S-P-E-C-T...

to wondering "What's Goin' On?"...

to a girl turning to me to say "Oh My God Becky, look at that butt!"... (yes, our sweet demure Kerry actually does know all the words to Sir Mix-A-Lot's anthem to big butts)

to a bit of Ho-Down...

where Daddy sang base, and Mama sang tenor. A beautiful segue, wouldn't you agree? I also love the way these photos mirror our personalities so well, with Alexis preferring to sing quietly in back, Kathy belting it out front and center, and me always somewhere in the middle.

Guess I should have taken a photo of Lexi's market booth when she first set it up. After that, it was always too crowded to get a good shot. Not a bad problem to have, right? Instead I'll share this picture of the organizers' daughters, selling their slime kits.

Here's hoping that Lucky Star is still around when it's their turn to blossom into the women they were truly meant to be!
 

THE PLAYHOUSE I NEVER HAD

The other day I was looking around the interior of my home, thinking about how much it had changed since Little Goober came along. Apparently, I no longer give a flip about impressing anyone other than him, for my rather small house seems to have morphed into one rather large playhouse.

That notion got me to thinkin' about the playhouse my two older sisters had when they were young. My dad was a home designer/builder, and when he did spec homes, we sometimes lived in them for a while, until they sold. My mom said her very favorite houses always got whisked out from under her as soon as she started to settle in, but that if she ever moved into one she hated -- one not built by Dad -- that would probably be the one she'd get stuck in for life. Turns out, she was right! Of course, since my parents loved nothing more than working on a remodeling/redecorating project together, that house gave them oodles of opportunities for collaboration, and ended up being one they had to be dragged out of, kicking and screaming, forty years later.

Anyhoo, back to the house Mom loved the most -- the one we left when I was still a toddler, and therefor have no memory of. The one she and my sisters went on and on about for the rest of their lives, just to torture me. You see, being a man ahead of the times, Dad apparently designed one of the first "open concept" houses way back in the early 50's -- one with a beautiful kitchen with an exposed brick wall and brick floors, that opened into a large family room. The piece-de-resistance? A fantastic playhouse in the backyard, custom built for my sisters. I've been pining for one of my own ever since.

Guess I finally made that dream come true, huh?

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: YOU ARE CREATIVE, WHETHER YOU KNOW IT OR NOT

The next book in my Year of Reading Dangerously was Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way -- a real life-changer for me. It's the one that made me realize one doesn't have to be born with a pen or paint brush in one's hand, creating masterpieces by the time one is in grammar school, in order to be creative. All you really need to learn is how to shush your internal (and sometimes external) critics, and open yourself up to the creativity that flows through all of us. Julia Cameron knows just how to do that. Trust me. If I can do it, anyone can!

 FLASHBACK

 

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: TASHA TUDOR AND LIVING AN AUTHENTIC LIFE

Welcome to the next episode in our year of reading dangerously, The Private World of Tasha Tudor, by Tasha Tudor and Richard Brown.

FLASHBACK

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: SIMPLE ABUNDANCE

Next up in our year of reading dangerously? Simple Abundance, by Sarah Ban Breathnach. Enjoy!

 FLASHBACK

THE DOWNSIDE OF A CREATIVE BRAIN

Well, I finally finished my second "folk art fusion" project using techniques learned in a book by the same name. This time, however, I started with one of my own sketches, instead of one from the book.

I was so tickled with how it turned out, I was ready to jump right in and start another one. But then I remembered my "no sew" travel journal from our Marfa/Marathon trip, and decided I really ought to get back to that, before the memories fade.

The thought of fading memories reminded me of my baby Calvin journal, started  in 2/17, and still with only one spread in it!

At this rate, the kid will be headed off to college before I ever complete it!

But, then I remembered that I still haven't even started the cigar box journal I had in mind for our Cuba trip. I went over to my art shelves to grab the cigar box. Only, it wasn't there. Then I checked in the closet, and the cedar chest, and every other place I could think of. Still no cigar box. Finally I decided that my only course of action was to totally rework all of my shelves, drawers and closets. Which will probably take all week, if not longer.

So, now you know why, out of all the art journals on my shelf, the only one that ever got completed was my circle journal -- the one where I did the first few spreads in it, then I passed it around a circle of friends, all around the country. When it finally made its way back to me, it was full of wonderful art! Just not mine. Some of mine is now in each of their journals. I really miss it.