My brain on art.

So again, I throw all the wax I have at the board and am like.

Wow, this is the best. I think I’ve finally found my medium.

Then I’m like.

Darn I’m no good at this, I’ll never find my medium.

So I go back to the pastels and I’m like.

Wow, how could I have ever left you. This is the best!

And I just know that I’ve found my medium.

Then I’m like,

Dam’ I’ll never be any good at this, how could I have ever thought it could be my medium.

So I go back to the encaustic table and I’m like

Wow! This is the stuff for me.

Then I finish up for the day and walk into the house and say to P as I pass him in the kitchen.

I’m giving up art.

And he just laughs, and I’m like

WHAT?!!!!

And go off to sulk in the other room …

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I’ve been painting

Or rather, oil pastel-ing.

 

 

 

I think this is my favourite medium. The colours are so rich and meaty.

I find it hard to get back into jewelry after an art show. It’s like I’m all jeweled out.

I did fairly well at the festival. I made a thousand dollars, which, with what I already have, brings me to fifteen hundred.

I think this time the money is going to the Water for India thing, and Syria again.

http://www.charitywater.org

http://www.savethechildren.org.

Although I’m going to check out the Indian charity a little more first. I don’t usually give to the smaller charities as they aren’t so well known.

I don’t know, sometimes I get disheartened. It all seems so little for so much, but I can’t worry about it too much otherwise my brain will explode.

And that might hurt a bit.

So, I will leave you with a picture of my son in his halloween costume.

If you see him, please take him directly to the nearest psych ward.

He needs all the help he can get.

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Pissarro and the deadliest colour in the crayon box.

An update of yesterday’s painting.

Dick Frances (yep, still with him) was going at it with the whole horse tampering thing and somehow, in the heat of things, I got a bit carried away with the tree. Think I’ll knock it back a bit today.

I’m enjoying the colours especially the pink behind the house for some reason.

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Soooooo, we had a bit of a bright red oil pastel incident on the linen coloured sofa yesterday. Of course it had to be red and of course it had to get all over and in three of Spencer’s paws so he could ‘innocently’ traipse around more of the deadliest colour in the crayon box. I think he took the opportunity to give us the ol’, ha! I’ll show you, thing for putting him on a diet myself, but I guess we’ll never know.

P was remarkably calm considering the covers are relatively new and expensive. We did the best we could to get most of it out and they are now in the washing machine. I’m not so sure I want to be the one to open it up and see what we have been left with but I don’t think it’ll be so easy to run and hide from this one. As we were trying to hold Spencer down and do our best to get the oil pastel out of his paws without making the whole thing worse P saw the red in my hair and neck and we concluded that it had been on my camera strap. He washed it out for me with dishwashing detergent and extremely cold water. A not so subtle punishment I feel.

Not fair really as after the blue acrylic paint mishap on the old covers I have been extremely careful to change my clothes, etc., when I come in from the studio. And I’m extra careful to get the oil colour out of my hands and elbows.

Perhaps I will be banned from the house entirely soon.

I wonder if Pissarro had this much trouble …

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