Black and gold, with sparkles!

The husband's studio, like the majority of rooms in a house, has four walls.

One wall has a window, which I made these curtains for ...

One wall has two doors - one closet, one enter/exit, and two blank walls. On the south wall we've taken care of the art issue with the previously blogged about Angel. On the space between the door and closet he has hung my Prophetess painting ...

This left the last wall, the north wall, empty and in need of attention. Lots of debate has gone on about what to put there. My suggestion was a nice table and a big amethyst geode cathedral like this ...

I really like the geode!

I made a few other suggestions, but none met with any enthusiasm on the part of the husband. Then, several months ago, he came up with an idea for a piece of art. Considering the months of struggle with the Angel, I wasn't all that thrilled with the prospect of another special request. His idea: a painting of his music pseudonym, Au. This, for all you non-chemistry heads out there, is from the Chemical Table of Elements for Gold. Okay, I could work with that. Of course, he had to throw a kink in it ... he wanted the letters to be embossed. Argh.

I had to stew on it for awhile. What was the best way, with the tools I had available to me, to create large, gold nugget-like, embossed letters on a canvas?

Light bulb!

I decided to use a 24" x 24", 1.5" deep gallery wrap canvas which I had previously started to use for an abstract painting. I'd gotten as far as spreading some texture medium on it, but then had to put it away in my studio closet while I worked on the Angel. I pulled it out and painted it with two coats of black acrylic.

I took the Au logo from his CD art into QuarkXPress, sized it, then printed it out via the tiling option. I put the pieces on my light table and taped them together, then cut them out. I used Elmer's Glue on the backside of the letters, sort of reverse decoupage', and stuck them onto the canvas. The glue softened the paper so that I was able to mush it down into the peaks and valleys of the texture medium. Let that dry for a day.

Using the tip on the bottle, I ran a bead of glue all around the edges of the lettering, both sealing them to the canvas and creating a space (once the bead dried enough) I could then fill in with more glue. I repeated this process three times to create about a 1/8" deep layer of embossing. Since I wanted it to have a higher level of embossing, as well as both smooth and rough texture ... like a gold nugget ... I added another 1/8" or so layer of texture medium with a small, pointed putty knife. I worked the medium to be rough, but then went back over it in areas with the flat of the putty knife to give it the smoother areas. I also knew the medium, being applied so thickly, would crack as it dried, giving more texture. Had to let all of that dry for about a day with a big fan blowing on it.

It surprises people to find out that I don't have expensive acrylic paints like Winsdor & Newton or Liquitex. What I use is those little, cheap-o bottle of craft acrylics. The kind you'd think to use for painting Tole or that awful One-Stroke stuff. They come in a huge variety of colors, which I think is marvelous! Yeah, they are liquidy, unlike the way tube acrylics are heavy-bodied and squirt out like oil paints or toothpaste. I'd love to have some of those thick acrylics but I just can't afford them. So I do what I gotta' do, ya' know? The liquid acrylics work for me because I paint them like watercolors, just using glazing medium instead of water.

I pulled out a few of the gold paints I had and decided on Antique Gold because it looks more like 10K gold, what mine and the husband's wedding bands are made of. I'm not fond of bright gold, like the 24K stuff. It doesn't look "real" to me. Yes, I know that sounds strange. It took two coats of the antique gold to cover the embossing. I had to pay attention and make sure I got it in all the nooks and crannies. Any place I 'slipped' had to be touched up with black paint.

Once the paint was dry, I used a gold glitter paint, with a extra-fine cut glitter, on some of the rough areas of the embossing. I left some places with just one coat and other places I used two or three coats to get the right amount of sparkle. Next, I grabbed the Elmer's again and put dabs of glue in some of the deepest cracks and ridges, then sprinkled on some large cut glitter. Messy, but I wanted small touches of 'rough sparkle' on the lettering so that it would better catch the light better when you walked past it. The final step was to use the fine cut glitter paint on a few places on the texturing of the black background. Just to highlight it a bit and keep it from being too stark and bland.

This is the end result ...

Now I have to put wire on the back and hang it up!

Namaste', y'all ...

Nineteen Months In The Making.

It's been so long that I've worked on this particular project it almost seems strange to say, at long last, it's over. Finished. Stick a fork in me and call me done. Way done. Ready to turn my back and run, not walk, in the opposite direction.

In June of 2009 I started working on this angel for the husband's studio. The green background is the color we painted his walls. He wanted it for the wall behind his keyboard desk, done so it appears to be coming out of the wall and looking down at him as he's sitting in his chair. The original idea was to paint it as trompe l'oeil on canvas, then attach the canvas to the wall in such a way that it blended in smoothly. Great in theory, not so great in practical application.

This thing is big. The angel measures 6'9" from wing tip to wing tip, 3'10" from top of head to bottom fade of gown. Big. The only place we had large enough to hold the canvas was the dining room wall ... and there this canvas has stayed, thumb tacked up and in constant view, for the past nineteen months. I can't begin to express just how sick and tired I am of looking at it. I think the word 'loathsome' comes reasonable close.

This finished image is done entirely in graphite, with white conte' pencil for the highlights. It didn't start out that way. Actually, is started with black acrylic paint and glazing medium with a completely different angel pieced together in Photoshop from several images I found on the internet. Spent months on that and was frustrated beyond belief. The image was all wrong, had to correct for proper shadowing/highlights, completely change the hair and gown, etc, etc, etc. It was a mess from the get-go.

Then the husband said it might look cool if it had color ... like she was a statue and then 'coming to life' as she was emerging from the wall. I painted over and started again, trying to incorporate color. Months, months, months. Mess, mess, mess. By now, I was ready to rip it from the wall and set fire to it. Believe me, I gave that serious consideration.

From the beginning, I knew the reference material I was trying to work from was woefully inadequate, to put it mildly. But I thought I could make it work. I was so wrong. At my breaking point on the second attempt I told the husband he was going to have to help me take real photos of me, dressed up, with correct lighting, etc. and I was going to start over with that. Ugh! Whole 'nuther kettle of fish trying to get him to take the photos that fit the image I had in my head! Three attempts and about eleventy dozen photos later we got some I could work with ... after more of that Photoshop tinkering stuff.

I pulled out my enlarger and traced it off for the third time. By now I had decided I was NOT going to attempt it again with paint. I wanted a 'part of the wall' feel to it and knew I had to use the background green color as my neutral tone. That left black for shadowing and white for highlights. I'm not experienced enough with charcoal to go there, so all that was left me was graphite. Daunting to consider creating basically a pencil drawing 4' x 7'. Kind of like vacuuming a football field with a Dust Buster.

Thing is, I knew I could do it, knew it would take a lot of time, and knew I was also really hanging on by a thread at even having any desire whatsoever to begin again. I was never really thrilled about doing this project to start with, but the husband had asked for it. So, I started on this third version, I think, sometime in May or June of 2010. It was around this time the husband decided he didn't want it attached to the wall after all - just in case we ever had to move he would like to take it with him. Of course, this means the canvas will now have to be stretched and gallery-wrapped onto stretcher bars like a regular painting. With the gallery wrap, we won't have to use a frame, just hang it.

When I started, I had made myself a promise that I wouldn't paint anything else until this was finished. Of course, I had no idea I'd just chained myself to the dinning room wall for the next nineteen months or I would never, ever have made that promise. No siree. Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. It's been torture. I've had a bazillion ideas for paintings going through my head and haven't been able to do a damn thing about it. Well, you can bet your sweet pa-toot this ol' gal is gonna' to be making up for lost time. I'm going to be buried in my studio for ever. Watercolors, here I come!!! Acrylics on small canvases! Woo Hoo! Crafts and sewing and all kinds of fun and adventure will be happening in my little corner of the world.

As for the angel, I'm going to get some graphite spray fixative, spray that ol' witch a good coat or two, take her off the wall, roll her up, and lay it in the floor in the husband's studio. He gets the chore of taking it to the framer to get it stretched, and he get the chore of getting it up on his studio wall. And, I'm even thinking I'll let him finish painting the green on the canvas after it's wrapped. 'Cause, ya' know, I'm done.

Namaste', y'all ...

Pain, puking, and flashy blue lights ...

Lots of people have migraines. They all have my deepest sympathy/empathy. Migraines are awful. They are debilitating. They are mean and nasty. I know, first hand, up close and personal. I've spent the last few days dealing with one.

Years ago, I used to get them frequently, often as twice a week. Many times I've had to get friends to cart me to the emergency room for a nice big shot of Demerol, then haul me back home so I could crawl into bed and let the drug send me off into pain-free oblivion. I was very close to calling a friend last night. Only the lateness of the hour and the fact that I didn't think I'd be able to ride in a car that far without puking my guts out kept me from making a call.

Over the years my migraines have slowed to occurring maybe once or twice a year. I can't tell y'all how many ways from Christmas the level of pleased I am about that. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I can catch one early enough with a dose of Advil and ratchet it down to an the equivalent of an ordinary annoying headache. But every once in awhile, WHAM! No amount of Advil will help and I'm reduced to curling up in a fetal position somewhere and wishing I could cut my head off and bury it out back in a deep, dark hole in the ground. This most recent migraine was the worst I've had in a long, long time.

I spent nearly the entire day yesterday on the sofa, cold rag on the back of my neck and my head in my hands. Didn't move much except to worship at the porcelain shrine of Vomictus, the God of Nausea, a time or two. I was, in a word, pathetic.

I'd been fighting the migraine on and off since Wednesday. I had a bad day that day. Thursday I had to force myself to be productive and go into town to run some errands. Friday was rough. On Saturday I had to make a trip into town to buy bread for my neighbor and to help a friend decorate the restaurant where she was having her mother's 70th birthday party. Then I had to stay for the party. My fabulous computer tech guy also brought my computer back to me (it coped attitude and had to be resuscitated) that evening. When I sat up in bed yesterday morning I felt like my head had been kicked by an elephant.

I took Advil. No help. I puked my guts up. No fun. I tried Reiki. Couldn't relax and focus. I complained to the cats. They ignored me. I debated dunking my head in a bucket full of cold water. I was already switching between extreme, sweating hot and shivering cold body temperatures. I didn't think the bucket idea would help much, just get my hair wet and I didn't have the umph to dry it. So, I sat there, head in hands.

Sometime around 7:00pm I was pretty much at my low point. I focused my eyes long enough to send the husband a text message asking him not to do his nightly call. Even thinking about hearing the sound of the phone ringing made me want to throw up. I was sitting there, debating which friend to call and take me to the emergency room, trying to decide if I thought I could ride in a car without dying, feeling absolutely horrible at the thought of anybody having to come help me ... and then, as embarrassing at it is to say this, I'll tell ya' folks, I started crying.

As I sat there, ready to break down and call my neighbor, thinking I just couldn't take it anymore, the oddest feeling came over me. I saw the most beautiful flash of electric blue and the top of my head went warm, like someone put their hands on it. My shoulders relaxed so much they felt like they dropped a foot. I heard my guide, Myrium, ask me why I waited so long to ask her for help. I could see her, in my minds' eye, run her hand down the back of my neck ... and the pain was gone. Just like that. Gone.

I was still feeling a little weak, slightly dizzy, stomach a bit queasy, but otherwise completely pain free. I thought, "Holy cow!". It was incredible. It was wonderful. Where, not a minute before, I was sitting there hunched over and so sick I was crying, I was now actually sitting straight up and smiling like an idiot. I jumped up and sent the husband a text to tell him to call. I didn't feel like dancing a tango, but I felt pretty damn good all things considered.

Now, I know lots of people who would think that story was just nuts. But I also know a lot of other people who would just nod their heads in understanding. They know what I'm talking about. They know their own spirit guides as I know mine. And they would ask the same question Myrium asked me, "Why did you wait so long to ask?". Truth is, I was so caught up in feeling bad, so self-absorbed in my misery, I just didn't think of it. I feel a little guilty about it now, but I also know that my guides don't hold it against me. They already know I'm a pain-in-the-ass 90% of the time. In working with me, their patience knows no bounds. A fact I am infinitely grateful for.

But it brought home to me how far I've been away from them over the past year. 2009 was tough. Three hundred and sixty five days of some pretty rough going. I have, without realizing it until now, been retreating into a little bubble of self-protection and isolation. I used to be very hermitish. I closed off nearly everyone and everything and just moved through my life in that same bubble. I functioned, but I was 'shut-down'. Like living on auto-pilot. I've spent the last 10 years working hard to come out of that old behavior pattern and open up to life. I made huge progress. Amazing progress. I have a life full of blessings.

Somewhere during the past year I "slipped" and fell. I can't say it was one thing in particular, more a combination of things. My response was to retreat. I think this migraine was a 'wake-up call'. When I think back to the times my migraines were frequent and nasty, it was always during difficult times. My body's way of dealing with an overload of suppressed emotion and stress. It's hard to face life sometimes when you are an overly sensitive person. Being around people can feel suffocating. Stressful situations and upsetting events can be just too much. It's like always being on the edge of a panic attack. Sometimes the only way to cope is to shut down.

Sitting there on the sofa last night, sick to the point of crying yet fearing to call for help, it hit me ... not asking for help when I need it is one of my biggest problems. It's like putting handcuffs on myself and then expecting to be able to wield a paintbrush and create a masterpiece on a life-sized canvas. Not going to happen. Instead, what I need to do is take action. First thing to do is make a doctor's appointment and, as much as I hate the thoughts of taking any kind of medication, get something for the migraines. Then I need to start getting back into life, hopefully find a job to get me out of the house and bring in some extra income. Maybe join a knitting club or something like that. And most importantly, start paying attention to my guides again ... maybe if I do that then hopefully I won't need to take any migraine medication because they will just go away. Sounds really good to me.

Thanks, Myrium.

Namaste, y'all ...

My coffee cup bites the dust.

Do you ever get attached to things? I do, I'll admit it. I have my favorite shoes, my favorite paint brush, favorite pen to write with. You get the picture. I also have a favorite coffee cup. I've had it for years. At least 15 years, if not longer. I killed it today.

Back story: I was born and raised in Atlanta, GA. Well, half raised. When I was eleven, after my parents divorced, my mother, brother and I moved to the foothills of NC where my mother was born. In 1975 is was a cheap place to live for a single mother with two kids. Most of her family still lived there. Spent several summers visiting, stayed with my grandparents, played with cousins, typical summer vacation kind of thing. It was okay, but I liked being in Atlanta better. City kid.

It was upsetting to move away from my friends, places I knew and was familiar with. The actual moving day wasn't too bad because my uncle (Mother's brother) and his family had come down from NC to help. He and my aunt had two kids the same ages as my brother and I so we entertained each other and stayed fairly distracted about the whole move thing. It was late at night when we finally got to the house my mother had rented. Too dark to see anything. We just piled in the house with what we needed and went straight to bed.

I will never forget waking up that first morning, looking out my new bedroom window, and seeing acres of cornfield and chickens in the front yard. I stood there and cried. I was immediately homesick for Atlanta. I stayed homesick for years. Went back a couple of times years later for college and a job, but it just didn't work out that I could stay. Ah well, that's another story.

Back to the coffee cup ...

In my mid-twenties I started collecting Coca-Cola stuff. After all, Atlanta is the home of Coke. I was also a Coca-Cola addict, but again, I digress.

I collected all kinds of stuff ... antique Coke trays, cards, advertisement posters, dish towels, coasters, vintage bottles, magnets, etc. I even had one of those huge antique red metal 'button' Coke outdoor store signs that hung on my wall in my living room. But my favorite thing was an old, green glass soda shop Coke mug. The kind used for making Coke floats (Coke with a scoop of vanilla ice cream). I have no idea of the date or antique value of the thing, and that didn't really matter to me, I just liked it. I had found it at a yard sale for .25¢. It became my 'cup of choice' for nearly everything I drank. Sure, sometimes I'd use a different cup or glass, but it stayed my preferred cup for all these years.

I sold off nearly all of my collection a few years ago when I moved back to this area. Big ol' yard sale. Cleaned house, literally. One of the few things I kept from my Coke collection was my cup. Couldn't part with it. Loved my cup.

Today, I'm deeply saddened to say, I broke it. Washing dishes. Slipped right out of my hand and WHAM! Hit the side of the sink and broke into a half dozen pieces.

I stood there a full minute, stunned, before I launched into a tirade of non-printable swearin'. I wrapped all it's pieces in a towel and buried it in the trash can. Had a fresh pot of coffee and no favorite cup. I shall miss my cup.

I wanted to show you a picture of it (ya' know, 'cause blogs are so much better with photos) so I did the typical thing ... Googled it. Not really expecting to find anything and have to post this naked of pictures, I was surprised to discover one for sale on ebay. Who'da' thunk it? I clicked the link.

Holy schmoly! Would you believe the seller is asking $36.12? And that's reduced from $42.50! Granted, they have a bottle opener for sale with it, too. But $36.12? Are they outta' their minds? Now I really loved my cup, but thanks, I'll have to pass on that offer. I'll use another cup I already have.

Did I mention it's a Coca-Cola cup, too?

Namaste, y'all ...

Library find!

No Impact Man

I found Colin Beavan's blog, No Impact Man, several weeks ago and bookmarked it for future pursuing. There was a lot to read and I just haven't taken time to sit and go through it all. I did take the time to add his book to my Amazon.com wish list.

Went to the library on Monday for a round of 'shelf diving' and for some reason decided to have a look through the "new book" section. I hardly ever look there for anything - mostly 'cause I find an armload in the regular shelves and just can't carry anything else!

Anyway, I'm standing there, head hanging to the side in that goofy, library shelf-looking way and noticed an odd title in blue letters on the red spine of a book. Eh? Could it really be? I set my armload of books on the floor and pulled it from the shelf. Yep, indeed. No Impact Man. I laughed and said, "Well, yee ha!" out loud. Yeah, the library ladies gave me a look, but they know me.

So I slapped it on the stack with the rest and headed to the checkout counter. Plan to start reading it right after I finish the one I'm currently reading. While I almost always have several books I'm reading going at the same time I thought I would like to give this one my undivided attention.

While I was gathering images to put with this post I discovered it's been made into a movie as well ...

No Impact Man DVD

Guess this means a trip to the video store sometime in the near future - that is, unless they have it at the library!

Namaste, y'all ...