Baby steps.

Today I am going to work on this,

and this,

I’m going to try to keep with the acrylics on the first one. The bottom one, because I’ve already started over the acrylics with oil pastel, I’ll finish with the pastels.

If I can follow through (always my problem) with the acrylics I think I will prefer the top painting to the bottom one. The oil pastels seem less spontaneous to me although I love the richness of the colours. (You can’t tell here as the photograph is bad).

I applied to the art festival I do each year. This time I applied to take some paintings as well as my jewelry. I’m just not sure though. I’m always saying that maybe next year I’ll be ready. Ready to display my jewelry in a more professional manner. Ready to sell my jewelry as a proper business. Ready to make a real effort at painting, etc., etc. But next year is always the same as this year. This is why I’ve applied for painting also.

I don’t think my paintings are very good. I’d like to work on them to a point where I feel comfortable trying to sell them but confidence always gets in the way of me even trying (hence the worry wart). This blog has helped me though. I am putting them out there, warts and all (no offense to my wart) and it’s becoming easier to get over myself.

Now, finally, I have sent off some photo’s to the art festival people – even though I have none finished.

(Where’s that darn worry wart when you need him!).

Baby steps people :)

–

Wart’s up?

This is a worry wart.

I need one.

(Click photo to get your own wart).

–

When Hairy met Scary.

Dad’s gone, the garden is a disaster and I’m getting my hair cut today.

Sounds like it’s going to be a touch and go day.

Actually dad’s going wasn’t as bad as it usually is. I hate to see him go and it always seems as though we just do a drive by at the airport, push him out and speed on. Of course, it doesn’t exactly goes down like that, but, insofar as the, now you see him, now you don’t, trick that invariably gives you that, something’s missing and I don’t quite understand what happened, feeling, it might as well be. But, he got home safely and (says) he had a good time, so I’m going to try not to worry about it.

As for the hair cut, well, that’s another matter entirely.

My usual hairdresser did a runner. Well she was a barber actually as I was too self-conscious to go to a real hairdresser (working on it), and I also have very short hair and the barber cost me $12 instead of the $40 this new woman charges. But, as I said, the barber did a runner. Another, now you see her, now you don’t scenario which is beginning to give me that uncanny feeling that things can change at the turn of a dime and you never know when the next disappearing act is going to happen.

Scary.

Okay maybe that only scares me.

So, I went to get my hair shorn and she just wasn’t there. She had been in, packed up her stuff, and within five minutes had gone. Apparently to California!

What about me? Did she not wonder how my life was going to never be the same again! Did it not occur to her that there could be other, more important, things than having to get out of dodge because you’re in an abusive relationship and things are beginning to get a bit hairy! No pun intended.

(Good for her. I hope all goes well for her).

I tried the other woman in the barbers but it was like torture with the shears going way overtime and her not taking into account that I was actually a woman and didn’t necessarily need my face shaved. So I left and had a bit of a desperate moment knowing that I was going to have to try out a real hairdresser.

It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and once Kelly (my new woman) pointed out to me that she would have been way more self-conscious sitting in a barbers getting her hair cut with all those men hanging around, I began to realize that perhaps I had got it the wrong way around. (I find life very muddling at times).

Long and the short of it (another pun not intended) is that now I have Kelly and I sit in a real hair salon and pay $40 for what could be done for $12 and the poor woman has to sit through me telling her how to do it like the barber did it and end up leaving with a haircut that I have to go home and cry about and know that I can never leave the house again for as long as I live. Well, at least until it grows out.

So, today I have made an executive decision.

I am going to leave it up to Kelly. I’m going to sit back and let her do her thing and see if that works. Otherwise I’m just going to have to shave it all off and never have hair again because the whole thing just upsets me.

It’s just all worry people!

–