New encaustic painting.
I call it,
Red fields with big yellow blobby flower things.
I’m still working on how I can get rid of the wax fumes. Yesterday I tried using a fan to blow the smell away from me, but the air just cooled the wax and I couldn’t use it properly. I’m thinking an extractor fan would be best, but then just how many extractor fans does a girl need.
I need a room that IS an extractor fan. Now that’s a thought waiting to happen.
I find the whole encaustic thing a bit messy which is saying A LOT coming from the messiest person alive.
How did I get to be so messy? We may never know. Sometimes I can barely move around the studio. I went in there once or twice to clean up when my dad and sister were here, but had to walk out again as I was immediately overwhelmed by it all.
I do try to put everything back as I use it on the jewelry table. And that works great until I get carried away with what I’m making and it all goes to pot.
Too easily distracted is my theory.
I’m going to have to stop reading the news. It’s too depressing. I’m sitting here already having a little moment after reading about Gaza, and the children, and the airplane people, and all the terrible things happening around the world.
I’m thinking there should be a news channel with all good, positive news. I don’t mean sappy, puppy articles, but real, look what’s happening over here to fix things, and see, it’s working, articles.
But then what would happen to all the bad stuff. We can’t ignore it.
Yesterday I went to a local ministry to see if I could volunteer for the food bank place. I’ve been building myself up for it for a while now because I didn’t really want to get involved with all of that church stuff, but it’s definitely time to get over myself.
I was amazed that I hadn’t noticed the place before. I drive past it often. It’s right there on the road, and it takes up a whole strip center. I walked into the back office thinking it was just going to be food and resale, but there were loads of people in there waiting to be helped in terms of finding jobs and getting help with food and bills etc.
I felt so ashamed that I didn’t know.
Of course we all know, but going into the place just made everything real.
There were real people in there waiting to be helped, and here I was just driving past them every day.
I spoke to the volunteer woman, who told me that the food bank always has loads of volunteers and that no one was going to be moving from that part of the ministry soon, but I realized then that I could volunteer in many other departments.
I felt good about it, but then I went to bed and woke up a 3 a.m. worrying about all of the people, what I would have to do, would I be able to do it, would I want to do it, and if I did do it, would I be shot doing it.
Because obviously these people who have nothing are angry and resentful and violent.
Then I lay awake for the next hour or so feeling even more ashamed of myself that I could think so little of people, and so much of myself.
Sorting cans at the back of the food bank seemed so safe in comparison to actually meeting real people.
So now I’m waiting for them to call back to schedule a tour and orientation. That’s the problem really, I needed to just start right in. Apparently they need to vet their volunteers first though. Seems a bit harsh.
I’ve tried volunteering before. I worked at the local hospital once, but that didn’t go down well with my hypochondria. I always came home with some new disease or condition. I had to give up reading Susan Hill’s Inspector Serrailler books for that reason. His sister was a doctor. I could handle the murders just not the side stories where the doctor had to deal with illnesses I’d never even heard about. Kind of spoiled the whole head chopped off with an axe part for me.
And that’s my news for today. It’s all a bit of a waffly, a bit sad, a bit dreary kind of a day. P’s gone to San Diego, or somewhere that starts with a S. He’ll be back later so that’s o.k., and I’m going to see what else I can do with the fan so that I don’t have to die sooner rather than later because of the old wax fumes.
I’ll figure it all out one day.