Define Naughty

Holy baby Jesus!  All the hall decking and good cheer spreading...it's exhausting.  I'm hanging on to my Christmas spirit by a thread, a thin thread of tinsel.  At first, I wasn't really sure about it because I was trying.  Trying not to get in a Christmas funk as I was spending money, ticking off the list, driving in traffic, people being rude.  I was like, "I got this",  I was "Merry Christmasing" everyone, smiling... Unfortunately it became clear to me that that tinsel thread was fraying when this happened:

Caller: Mrs. Lucas?
Me with an eye-roll:  Yes?
Caller: This is Lisa from Allstate-
Me:  Look Lisa, I don't want to be rude but I don't have time for this.  We have USAA -
(I was going to tell her we were very happy with USAA and to please remove us from their calling list.  Ending with a heartfelt Merry Christmas and have a good night.)
She cut me off.  Cut. Me. Off.
Lisa:  Right, Tonya, (Oh wait...what?  We are now on a first name basis?) I heard you.  You're busy I'll call back another time.
Me:  Well, you little bitch!  (K.  Right?  I normally say this kind of stuff in my head, but in this situation I accidentally said it out loud.)  You called me, interrupted me...you know what...(starting to feel a little bad) Merry Christmas.
She had already hung up.

I was all, to myself , "Whew...that was nuts."  I shook my head, I better pull my stuff together.  I went to Belk and another random person didn't understand the whole 'Stop Sign' situation.  I yelled, again out loud, this time to myself in the car, "You want me to get out of this car and teach you how to use a stop sign!?"  I might've dropped an f bomb.  I then continued to rant aloud when a white SUV wouldn't let me over.  I forced myself into the lane and quickly realized I was disoriented and needed to be in the turning lane -on the other side of the lane that I was just in.  I was that person.  That person you see driving like a jerk.  I feel it important to note here, that I do not normally have road rage.  I never yell at other vehicles-unless it is a blatant violation and my children are present and I demonstrate 'the bird'.  I screamed, out loud, by myself in the car with no one to impress -impress bad behavior on.

Next stop was Target, f'ing Target.  I spent way too much money there and the cashier was all,  "Do you have a Target Red card?"
"Yes, I do, but I'm doing a thing with this card."  The little swipe machine starting honking rudely at me.
"Your card has a chip." As the thing continues to bleat at me.
"Oh, right, habit to swipe," I say with a smile 'cause...whatever.  I don't even care about anything anymore.
"Push it in until it clicks."  Really?  I resist the urge to make a bad joke.
Transaction done, cashier says "Have a Merry Christmas" as if it was for the one thousandth time.
Yeah right, Target guy, now I'm broke, Merry Christmas.  Which, luckily managed to stay in my head, I replied with a smile and an "You too."
I need to get it together.  This is Christmas.  The day baby Jesus was born.  Baby. Jesus.  And here I am struggling just to be human.

We also had the work Christmas party Friday.  Dear Lord...I did not behave myself.  My friend Maria walked in saying, "Let's get a shot."  I was all, "All right...I'm in!" and I was "in" all night.  All my girls and I doing shots like rockstars.  We danced, we sang, we completely misbehaved.  It was so much fun.  Last thing I remember was looking for my shoes.  I left my purse.  Maria was all, "I knew what you were doing...you didn't need it."  So. Much. Fun.

So, coming back to losing my Christmas spirit, I think I know where it is at, it's at the bottom of one of those Target bags.  I'm going to get it, because really, it's Christmas.

What's Next?

What an awesome week!  Sam is done!  (Check the website http://www.tonyajean.net for complete illustrations).  Sending him off to publishers today -Wednesday at the latest! I would love to tell Caye we got published.  Please pray for us or what ever you do to communicate with Whoever.

Progress felt good.  I felt like Tom Hanks after he found a mermaid -mostly just where he sings with a mango but this was the only clip I could find.

Nothing could bring me down, not even Walmart.  Not even when the old couple in front of me who needed a price check and then got into an argument about it.  "Don't mind me!  I have all the time in the world!"  I even held her hand and wished them a Merry Christmas.  I gave my last dollar to the bell ringer guy with all his Jesus jewelry,  I even complimented his hat.  Sam is done!  So I was smiling and waving at every body.  Every. Body.

I started the watercolor rainbow sun.  The kids and I used to do these painting's we called "Rain Paintings".  On a rainy day, we drew a pictures with Crayola markers and would set them out in the rain for a few seconds.  We usually drew fish or flowers but, I'm going to give it a shot with this.   Now just waiting for rain...

The studio is free.  I have no idea what I am going to work on next and I couldn't be more excited by that.  No little sinful caterpillars looking at me, What's It Saying is still very much a blank canvas.  Maybe I'll go there next?  The thing is, I love a blank canvas.  This and music and maybe some tea or wine...I can't wait to se what happens!  

The only thing I "have" to do is paint and glue 123 wooden spools for Jesse's class.  His teacher saw a picture on Pinterest.  F'ing Pinterest.  They will be snowman ornaments when it's all done.  I should have said, "Those, with the melted snowman ornament and the snowman button cards, might be too much."  Instead, I said, "Sure!" with a smile thinking that I would just figure it out.  If you need me, I'll be in the studio under a pile of wooden spools figuring it out.

Let's do a rain dance.

Cornbread stuffing

I don't know about you all, but I've eaten cornbread stuffing and green bean casserole for the last 3 days.  The last 3 days.  I really wish my laptop had emoji's because this calls for the eyes closed, straight mouth one.  It's okay, someone told me once that people who use emoji's have a better sex life.  time.com/3694763/match-com-dating-survey-emoji-sex/

I walked into the bathroom because, you know, I needed a shower.  I swear my scale looked at me like, "What up, bitch?" I was all, "What are you looking at?" and did a little fake move.

I re-established my gym goals and got in the shower.  I came out to a full on Star Wars invasion.  I was just trying to get ready for church.  For church, for heaven sakes!  Having married a military officer and gave birth to children with Nerf guns in their hands, I should know better.  My child shouted, "Ventress!  Get her!"

                                View from  my bathroom, I went to shower unarmed and I lost.

After church and praying for the souls of my children, I tippy toed into the studio. I was wondering what the vibe was, as it had been a about a week and a half.  That adorable little caterpillar, Sam, was looking at me like, "Hey Girl...".

                                                    Wait,  What were we talking about?

Sam.  A few little finishing touches was all he was looking for so...I got right on that.  Unfortunately,
I wasn't "feeling it".  I don't think this was a Muse issue, I think (hope) it was a time thing.  Could be an overstuffed with cornbread and green beans issue.  By the time I post this, I was hoping that Sam was done and I could show you.  After I painted a few eyeballs and noses I realized that, for real, it was not happening.  I was not feeling it.

I hope you can all "feel" me here.  Sometimes you are on and there is no stopping you.  It's like fever.  Unfortunately for me, sometimes, it's just not like that.  Sometimes it's forced because of deadlines or what ever self-inflicted pressures.  I just couldn't get into it.  I fixed what I could and decided tomorrow was another day.  I poured a glass of wine to go with my final helping of cornbread stuffing (I mean it, this time, the final helping).  Tidied up the studio a bit just enjoying my space, made my Michael's list, prepped some stuff and did a little research on self publishing.  At this moment I think I'm going with Amazon.  Stay tuned...

Sometimes the love runs out, but it'll come back.  Trust me.  Keep on.

Options and choices

Earlier this week I was packing for my trip to Colorado.  I heard this song.  Which doesn't really apply to this post but its dancy and allowed me to go ham on my air tambourine.

 

I was really looking forward to this trip as I was going to see Janice -THE bff.  I did, somewhere in the back of my mind, worry about the fact that if I chose to do this mini vacay, I would miss out on studio time.  With Thanksgiving 3 days after I got back, I could kiss the studio goodbye for another week.  I ignored that little worry because, man, you gotta live, right?

I was only going for 3 days and I packed a huge suitcase.   My husband was all, "Why?"  My answer was "options".  We had plans for dinner in Lodo where I might be in the mood for a dress and heels or maybe jeans and my cool, new boots.  Hiking means boots and jeans but not the good going out jeans and different boots.  B-day party for her dad -again with the dress and heels or leggings and boots issue.  Plus, what to travel in.  Since Janice and I wear close to the same size, I also brought her some options; as well as my clothes that would fit her better.

I hate flying, terrified really, I think of terrorists, dying (which I can't because my kids still need me) and imagined plane malfunctions.  I'm not sure if you've ever flown into Denver when the weather report says 'gusty' with a little wind emoji, but it really makes you think about the last time you were in rough turbulence -you had no idea what rough turbulence was.  I felt like a paint can that the Home Depot person puts into that shake machine.  Janice, I have to add, knew it was going to be rough and purposely withheld this info.  She did however, send me this text.

After a harrowing ride, a good friend buys you a drink, the bff has 3 shots waiting for you in a flask.

The first night we opted to drink too much while we were out to dinner with her dad and husband.  While sitting in this fabulous restaurant, drinking too much, we had a really inappropriate conversation.  Really.  Inappropriate.  Also, seems like when we start losing sobriety we make up for it in volume.  Here we are in Lodo leaving the restaurant.

The next night her dad celebrated his 70th birthday.  This man, does more hiking, traveling and shenanigans than anyone I know.  He looks more like 50.  Janice and I were trying to rally for the event because of our bad behavior in Lodo.  It should be noted that her father needed no rally efforts.  He even took the kids and the dog hiking that next morning.

As we decorated for the party, we opted to take a shot, hair of the dog, if you will, 'cause we were struggling.   Janice, ever the trooper, says, "If I'm not feeling any better in 30 minutes, I'm taking another shot."  I kind of shuddered as the first shot had to go down with a deep breath and a little prayer (Please, little baby Jesus, make it stay down).  I responded with, "Where you go, I go."  She laughed as I think she noticed the shudder, I also may have turned a shade of green.  Needless to say we had that second shot.

Right as the guests started to show I realized that those shots were starting to hit me.  Mighta been when I opted to introduce myself as "Hi, I'm Tonya Jean."  Tonya Jean?  I never use my middle name, verbally; as in never ever.  Janice looks at me and says, "Wow, are those shots hitting you too?" We burst into laughter and I realized we had fully rallied.  We did more drinking as we made our way through the guests and dinner.  I kinda got stuck at the wrong table at one point with an aunt who was of a mind to reminisce.  I love that, I do, so I stayed with her.  Then, I was talking to my other new favorite person, the sister-in-law, until I look over at Janice at the cousins table.  Note to self: always sit at the cousins table.  My sides still hurt.  At one point, I think it was a cousins husband (?), anyway he flipped me off, so I explained to him that he'd have to try harder if he wanted to offend me 'cause I will say it 'til I die, "Go Big Red!"

The next day we decided to go hiking with the kids, including teeny tiny Tabitha, of I Don't Care.  She is still tiny and at 2 still figuring out the concept of "hiking".  Sort of a 2 steps forward, 1 step backward kind of hike.  It was the perfect way to recover from the party the night before.  Eventually, Janice and I had to split from the rest of the family to head to Red Rocks so she could do a photo shoot.  I was the "assistant".  Pretty cool watching the bff do her thing in person.  I got a John Denver T-shirt.

Sadly, Monday morning came so I had to go.  Janice sent me off with a Xanax and a hug.  When her dad was loading me up, lugging my huge suitcase into his truck, he says, "You were only here for 3 days, right?!" Again, my only defense was "options".  Sitting in my window seat on the way back home, I was thinking about how awesome Xanax is, particularly for terrified flyers, as I was not scared at all.  I was also thinking about options, should I have a Bloody Mary while on Xanax?  Should we do our next trip together in Nevada or somewhere in between CO and SC?  Husbands?  If this lady next to me with the heart glasses tries to talk to me should I be a tired traveler and feign sleep or just dive into her brand of crazy?

While we do our thing, we may struggle with the options, choices and decisions presented to us.  I like to think of the example Janice's dad has always been for us, live every moment of your life.  Be still when you have to, say like, when opting to hike with a 2 year old.  Have fun -choose to misbehave in Lodo.  Work hard, like when having to split from family time to do work.  Mistakes will be made but they are also opportunities, like having wardrobe options after lugging a huge suitcase across the country.

Gold and Sam

A couple posts ago I promised you new stuff -I think I even said "Monday".  I have been in the studio and it has been glorious.  I painted an autumn sun where I used this gold paint that I've been wanting to experiment with forever.   Gold paint...I was all...

The thing is, I have a rudimentary operation, I use my cell phone to take photos of whatever I'm working on.  I needed to wait for the sun to get the best lighting for my paintings (and because of gold) but it has been overcast/raining for what feels like weeks.  We finally saw the sun and I was all fired up to do the photos, right after I tended to the chickens and I might as well get the leaves out of the pool when suddenly -my life stalled out.  I dropped my phone into the pool.  Yep, I was talking to my friend Amie, thought I'd multi-task with the leaf situation; when plop...into the drink.  

Funny little side note here, it disconnected with Amie and dialed my sister; all by itself, under the water.  As I was fishing it out, I saw my sister text me in response, "What?  I'm at work" and Amie with, "I'll just talk to you later."  I finally got it out and pushed every button on it before I had the latent 'maybe I shouldn't be pushing buttons' thought.   I stuck it in a bag a rice and contacted my media specialist, my 14 year old daughter, Anna.

I asked Anna if I could borrow her Coolpix camera. (The one I bought for her.)  Suddenly it was like I was playing 20 questions.  Why do I need it?  Where's my phone?  Did I put it in rice?  Did I push any buttons?  Why would I do that?  Do I understand I just made it worse?  Ending this silly game, I pulled rank and demanded the Coolpix.  She agreed under the conditions that it was for a limited time and that I delete any pictures I take.  Sealing it with a pinky swear, I got busy taking pictures.  Now should I use the laptop with the broken left Shift key or the desk top that is so slow it took 15 minutes to send a email?  I wish I was exaggerating.

Here is the sun and surprisingly enough, Sam.

My friend Amelia Shea (erotic author extraodinaire) and I got to talking and not only did we cover children, crazy people and past boyfriends, we got into our selective arts.  She is frustrated because the book she thinks she should be writing is not happening, while this other book, is begging to be written.  I was all, "Just write the book you want to."  Easy right?  She gave me a look.  I gave her a blank stare, "What?"  

"You can relate," she said.  I was struck because, the thing I think I should be doing, calendar/suns, mugs/dishes isn't filling me with joy and I think I need to do What's It saying?  That book has been in my mind for...how old is Anna?  

We decided to write/do the thing that is been pulling at us.  For her it's the other book, for me I thought it was What's It Saying?  I sat down, pulled out a canvas, and holy shit, I painted Sam the sinful little caterpillar.  What the...?

That Muse, fickle little minx, she is said, "Oh!  A cute little caterpillar!"

Remember Janice of we were almost a gang?  Over beer thirty I was telling her my epiphany and I swear to God I HEARD her eyes roll, "Oh.  So you came to the conclusion you should be in the studio painting what you want?" Janice, as I mentioned, is not only stalwart and unafraid; she can also be sarcastic.  

The lesson today, do what is in your heart.  When I started doing what I thought would make money or what everyone else was telling me to do I kind of stalled out.  Do your thing.        

Here is a song to get you going.

Mom

“When your mother asks, "Do you want a piece of advice?" it's a mere formality. It doesn't matter if you answer yes or no. You're going to get it anyway.” 
― Erma Bombeck

I absolutely love Erma Bombeck.  This woman did it.  I love everything she wrote.  She makes me think of my mother.  My mom.  I'm not about to wax on about how wonderful she is, she's my mom, she couldn't always be wonderful.  She raised all 6 of us to leave her house and live on our own.  We were never to be a doormat, nor a problem.  She raised us to be be accountable for ourselves, to pray,  and to handle our shit.  -Plus she had her own shit she was working out.
My mom did not have time for our opinions on her advice because she knew she knew better.  My mom is tough and very smart.  Sometimes I wish she saw herself as I see her.  So when she was here telling me what I should and shouldn't do with the art thing I do, the child/daughter in me protests while the adult/mother in me gets it and tries to be patient.  
My mom was just here for a "turn an' burn".  Meaning she was here for a very short time.  She traveled half a country for my daughter's confirmation and didn't stay for even 72 hours.  Not enough time, then again, maybe too much time because I still managed to piss her off.  This woman, who giggled with me over "loving wife and mother" because she gets it, also had a lot of advice about what I should do, should've already done and how I should do it.  My response was, "Damn." with maybe a little bucking.
First response aside, thinking further on it, she knows me and my potential and she wants me to do it, no excuses.  She doesn't want to hear the plan, she wants to see it.  She wants me to do what she thinks I can, even if she doesn't always say it in the kindest of ways.  Mom's...right?

My mom and Anna

As I type this, I just told my 8 year old to stop drinking stupid (he was drinking a Gatorade with his head tilted, pouring it down his cheek into the side of his mouth.  A red Gatorade.) I guess we all have those unkind moments.

The stuff I pissed her off about wasn't even related to the thing I'm doing.  It was past crap that all families have -no one gets out unscathed.  I should have kept my mouth shut, but I didn't. That past crap though, made me forget to thank her for being supportive of me and to my surprise, supportive of Janice.  The bff who, in mom's mind, had all the bad ideas since we were 12.  For the record, most of the bad ideas were mine, Janice is stalwart and unafraid.
However, she went on and on about how wonderful Janice's photography is and I quote, "...she really has an eye for it" as she scrolled through her Facebook page (Photography by Janice, the thing she does).  I could hardly believe my ears so I just reveled in it and couldn't wait to tell Janice.  This was huge.  But, alas, I pissed her off and missed my chance for a "moment" that she and I rarely get.
In that short time, I realized that my mom is right about a lot of the advice she gave me.  She was also right about leaving past crap where it belongs.  Sometimes I should maybe keep my mouth shut.  I'm telling you this because everyone needs someone like my mom in their "camp".
There is no way in hell I'm going to be in the same place I was, when she visited, the next time I see her.  I must show progress. God forbid, if I am in the same place with the same excuses I had the last time I saw her....this is not a situation I want to find myself.  We all need this accountability person.  The mugs I told her I wanted to do, are on order.  The notecards, done and available for purchase.  The notepads are in production.  Garden flags and trivets...okay not everything is done yet but, I'll see her at Christmas, so I have a little time.
I'd also like to to tell her I actually sold something to someone other than my sisters.  
Goals re-established.  Confidence in place.  Go get 'em.
Thanks mom.

You'll need a tissue.

Btw...I am actually in the studio...standby by for pictures.  Waiting (funnily enough) for the sun.

Enough is Enough

Okay, that's it!  I've been patient.  I've followed the meticulous instructions for submissions, I've set up the website, I'm even blogging -on the regular!  I've humbly accepted my rejection letters.  I even  found myself appreciating the one letter that at least recognized my talent and the time it took to put it all together, and I'm half way through my whiskey stash.  I'm done pimping my baby, my T-Rexy. We are exhausted.  They've missed out, those big name publisher's.  I'm going to self publish this bad boy.

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times, T-Rexy is an awesome dinosaur picture book.  It's got realistic facts without trying to turn your children (and yourself) into paleontologists over night, it has  bright pictures, and even carnage!  I've been so busy writing bio's, query letter's and reading through each and every publisher's website (twice) in fear of missing some key thing that will land me in the rejection pile that I've not been in the studio.  I walk by it, give it a loving, longing glance then I sit in front of the computer.  I think I've threatened to throw this damn thing out the window at least 50 times.  I'm on the bottom floor so, sort of anti-climatic even if I did.  It does, however, explain the dwindling Jameson supply.  

This publishing process has made me question my talent, my life and the Universe/God.  I'm done jerking around.  So today, it ends (hear a page turn).  I'm going to finish this post then I'm going to paint.  I'm going to paint until I can't see straight.  At this point I'm afraid of angering the Muse.  She's been whispering in my ear and I've been turning away.

I have these great ideas, the spooky October sun?  Still in my mind.  My friend Monica's fall sun?  Same place.  I had a moment with foliage the other day....I hate to tell you this, it was almost sexual, all I wanted to do was put it on paper.  And I what have I done?  I fear if I ignore the Muse for much longer I will be punished.

“But the fact is, she [the muse] won't be summoned. She alights when it damn well pleases her. She falls in love with one artist, then deserts him for another. She's a real bitch!” 

― Erica Jong

I'm going.  I'm leaving you with a song and I'll see you Monday with the new stuff.

   

   

  

Erma

“It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.” 
― Erma Bombeck

If you have never read Erma Bombeck, I'm going to take this moment to encourage you to do so.  Google her.

You're welcome.

“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, 'Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams.' Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there. These are great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line, to hold them up and say, 'How good or how bad am I?' That's where courage comes in.” 
― Erma Bombeck

Learn From My Mistakes

If you are like me and trying to make something happen for yourself, there's a couple things I want to pass on:

Don't force the blog, write the inspired blog.  The idea of the blog on my site is to keep it fresh in a very casual tone.  You want people to keep coming back.  That being said, don't write stupid.  I've done this, it's painful for everyone.  It is significantly harder write and truthfully, harder to read.  Don't do that to people, people are busy.  In the future, when I have nothing inspired to say, I will either quote someone else's inspired writing or try to do this; pass on something I learned.

Sometimes the hardest part is figuring stuff out.

I can draw suns and crap all day, but to design a website...pass the whiskey.  I feel that in the world wide web of websites there are some that are very well done up, the A-List and then there's stuff like mine, the B list website.  I am not a web designer, I am barely computer literate.  Come to find out, with the design I chose, to create a store would cost a shit ton of money.  At this point I am barely selling notecards and stationary, this does not equal 'shit ton of money' coming in.  Do your homework, get the site that will work for you.  It should be noted that the folks at Go Daddy are always very helpful even if my site isn't exactly what I want.  I should've done more research.  Here is an article I wish I had read before I started:

http://www.websitebuildertop10.com

Now my best option is to create an Etsy Shop.
To quote Etsy:
"More Money in Your Pocket
There are no membership fees with Etsy.
It costs $0.20 to list an item for 4 months, or until it sells.
Once you sell your item (congrats!), we collect a 3.5% fee on the sale price."

I want people to find me, so I am everywhere. No matter where you find me; Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, everything should funnel to the website, or where ever your product is.  Here are some videos to link Etsy, Twitter and Facebook.  There are a ton of these videos (but this first guy has a cool accent).  
Facebook & your website

Etsy

Put yourself out there.  Get business cards, take yourself seriously.  If you don't, no one else will.

Surround yourself with like minded people and inspire each other.  Here are some amazing women that are trying to make something happen for themselves.  For some of them, stuff is happening.  Check out their sites and see how they are doing it.

Remember: "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."  -Charles Caleb Colton
 
    Author Amelia Shea:  Ameliashea.net
    My yoga instructor:  Bansi Bee find her on her Etsy Shop Bansi Bee
    Janice Stevens:  http://photographybyjanice.com/
    Stephanie Jones:  www.papercanvasetc.com
 
Final bit of advice, don't get a cat.  Slows productivity.

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.”
― Erma Bombeck

October

I was over my bad mood of last week and was on fire with ideas.  I want to start marketing some of my suns in the form of note cards, maybe a calendar.  Then this happened.  This might be bad.

   

I don't think it's a good idea to go running around cemeteries.  I'm Catholic.  We just don't do this kind of thing.  Have you seen The Exorcist?  I have a bad feeling about this.  Should we really go gallivanting around in graveyards in October when dead things are itchy to go haunting?  I could use a girls trip though and I think it would be inspiring -in a spooky October sun kind of way.  I'm afraid to ask her "...and whatever the hell" entails.    

I was drawing a Dark Sun for my son.  It started off great, then I hated it.  Thing is, I got stuck in my own head worring about what people think and I just spiraled down from there.  I also hate that the time it took to do it is gone.  I have precious time when I can put pen (pencil, paint, ink, watercolor) to paper; to create something that made me cringe was frustrating.  AND just like spiraling, I couldn't stop until I reached the bottom; until it was finished.

It's now Wednesday and I was ready, ready to create and be brilliant.  I shook off what needed shakin', house was picked up, laundry caught up.  Time to get busy with my art stuff.  When all of the sudden, my dog starts freaking out.  He's howling, barking and trying to claw through the screen.  My first thought was "Zombies?"  I have to stop watching The Walking Dead.



But holy crap, it's coyotes!  I'm sure they are after my chickens again.  My poor chickens.  F'n coyotes.  I screw the lid back on my tube of paint and frantically look around for a weapon.  The only thing I can get to is a stupid BB gun.  I run out there "ping, ping" with the BB gun.  I think the coyotes are embarrassed for me.  I see them out there just in the tree line; wily, nasty things, I think there are 3 or 4 of 'em.

Luckily, my girls are smart and were hiding out in the coop.  I lock 'em up and call my husband to explain my need for stronger fire power.  I might have embellished on the actual number of coyotes; I saw 40 right?  I think there were 40.  The coyotes haunted me all morning.  Good news, though, the chickens are safe, so it's time to get started.

Crap.  Right after lunch relief.  The kids always ask to see what I'm working on, so I showed them the "good" Dark Sun and a little girl excitedly tells me that "I am a good drawer".  It made my day. So I gladly accepted the 500 pieces of paper that the teacher needs cut 4 ways and paper punched.  No problem.  I got it.  You need 'em next week?  Sure.  It should be noted, I actually practiced saying, "I wish I could help you, but I am swamped" before I got there.  Out loud.  Somehow it came out of my mouth as "Sure."  I even smiled as I accepted the tub of uncut paper.

Now it's Friday.  I managed to make a sun, not the rainbow sun I had envisioned.  The rainbow sun in my mind is in pencils.  Pencil work takes FOREVER and for some crazy reason I invent deadlines for myself.  I thought I'd speed things up and use acrylics, it ended up being a Cinco De Mayo sun.

Cinco De Mayo. It's almost finished.

Keep up the fight my friends.  Keep doing the thing you do.  Even though it gets hard with all the other crap we all have going on.  I'm going douse myself in holy water, grab my rosary and go traipsing around a graveyard to annoy a long dead voodoo queen.  Pray for me.

I Don't Care and 12 Is Too Many

I was going to name this post Pressure 2.0 or 'Stress What Is It Good For' because I'm sitting here looking at the blank page and I can't concentrate on anything because of all this stuff whirling around my brain.  Watching the cursor blink, I hear my best friend's daughter's voice.  It's a teeny, tiny, 2 year old voice that said, "I don't care."  I thought, "She's right, by God, teeny, tiny Tabitha is right.  I don't care."  I need to let some of this shit go or fix it.

Tabitha and I napping

I don't care that I saw 2 little pieces of paper and various grass remnants on the rug which would normally prompt me to vacuum the whole house.  Not today.  What dishes?

You know what else I'm gonna let go of?  Fantasy Football and a bullshit situation.  I couldn't care less about FF, I just don't like looking like a chump.  In a nut shell, everyone else got the email that we weren't in the league and anyway "...12 is too many".  Since I didn't know about the email, I was asking when we were all at a "get together".  I was informed it was done, we weren't in it and everything got awkward.  Nobody spoke up for us.  How could you think we weren't in when I replied with, "Lucas's are in!!!" with like 3 exclamation points?  Thing #1 about Lucas's, we're pretty tough (I was almost in a gang once, my husband was in jail once), so I'd rather have the truth no matter what it looks like.

If they need me, I'll be here, at the bottom of the totem pole rooting for the Cornhuskers and half ass watching the NFL.  Go Packers!

I have a friend upset because she thinks I don't make enough time for her.  Fml.  I don't have enough time for myself.  I love all my friends and when I say I am busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest, it's because I am. Letting this go, because I don't need the drama. "I y'am what y'am" ya'll.

                                                     

My husband and I are doing that "super polite speaking" to each other thing because we're a little pissed at each other.  We don't want to fight so we are doing the opposite.  We are acting like the Looney Tunes gopher's Mac and Tosh.  We will work our crap out.  I am just going to let it go, taking comfort in knowing I am right.  Quietly and to myself, just in case it turns out that I am wrong.

Jesse's teacher had no one volunteer for room mom.  Not one parent in the 20 something kids :|.  She sent a sweet email asking for one at exactly the same time I noticed there was a lot of stress in my life. So, of course, I said I'd do it.  I might be tough, but I cannot say no to someone in need.  Room mom, what was I thinking?

I've said I could do more with school, but I really can't.  I walked around all Tuesday thinking it was Monday and missed my scheduled Lunch Relief Duty.  Regarding this extra bit of school duty, I have already committed to meetings, fundraisers and trips to Michael's that I will do -with a smile; wishing I was at home working on my thing.

Pressure to be healthy reminds me I missed yoga Tuesday as well.  Pass the lettuce.

I'm going to quit listing all the things running through my mind giving me "writer's/drawer's block".  Honestly, I'm sick of 'em myself, you all have your own stuff to worry about and I might just be in a very bad mood.  Here's a sun.

It's not finished.

Let's all de-stress, pressurize and do our thing.

I'm going to go take a Midol.

Queen

I decided to name the posts instead of date them.  Dates feel like pressure and pressure is what I'm feelin'.  So many voices in my head saying to do this or that. Cue the song "Under Pressure" by Queen, particulary the part where he sings:

"Turned away from it all like a blind man
 Sat on a fence but it don't work
 Keep coming up with love but
 its so slashed and torn  
 why why why
 love love love love"

It spoke to me.  Why am I doing this?  And what the hell am I doing anyway?  Am I writting a novel or am I trying to promote T-Rexy (an awesome dinosaur picture book)?  Maybe I should self publish T-Rexy?  Then there's that non-fiction book I been toying with forever?  Maybe I should just market custom art?  Maybe I should scrap it all and be happy with being mom?  I could do more at the school.  Maybe my husband and I should take a vacation? Maybe a part-time job? Crap.  The garden needs tending, too.  Fuck it.  I'll just do another sun.  

I painted this one with acrylics.

I feel pressure from all sides.  Being a mom, a wife, a house maintainer, school volunteer, friend, sister, daughter; to do more or be more.  Why?  Just ask Freddie Mercury, love.  Love is why I want to give more.  The trick for me lately, is to trying to maintain some sense of my own identity while working all the roles I play in a day.  The pressure to do something of my own is heating up.  

I'm feeling like a failure on a few of these pressure points lately, so I honestly was ready to turn my back on this.  Thank you Freddie for doing the thing you did and changed my mind.  I am going to paint suns. My 21 year old wants a "dark" sun for his new apartment, no problem.  I have a friend (whose timing could not have been better) that wants to purchase one, her only request is that it be a full sun.

So if you need me, I'll be in the studio, painting suns and trying to sort my shit out. Hopefully it will open a "valve" to relieve some of this "more" pressure.

The Sting of Rejection

A couple weeks ago, I got my second rejection letter.  It stung a little.  It is always a little shocking when people don't think your great idea was such a great idea.  I resist every urge to reply to the email, mostly because I can't come up with anything more than "Really?  Whatever! *Expletive!"  I think that resisting a reply was wise.  I felt a little beaten.  I told my husband about it and he tried to cheer me up, but I resisted that too.  My friends pointed out how JK Rowling and Dr Seuss had also been rejected a bunch of times.  Again, I am sticking firm in resisting at this point.

I needed some time alone in a dark corner to lick my wounds.  In that corner, I decided that I'm not doing the right thing, that maybe drawing and writing isn't "my thing".  Maybe my thing right now is just to be wife and mother.  I'm was just going to concentrate on being a good mom and mediocre wife...maybe get a job.

But it's summer vacation and these kids (mine plus my nephew) are making me nuts.  Two of them are 14, one is 8, and they can not get along.  At one point I said something completely unintelligible, it sounded foreign, maybe Middle Eastern and I might've spit a little.  They looked at each other and agreed silently that I had lost my mind.  I decided right then and there that I was done being miserable.  Time to come out of my dark corner and get back at it.

I went outside hoping to clear my head and almost immediately got stung by a yellow jacket!  I wanted to cry.  I really wanted to cry.  It hurt like hell.  Just when you think it's over, it hurts some more.  I looked to God/the Universe in confusion and let a out a stream of cussing.  Sitting there with my yellow jacket cure (a glass of whiskey) and a ice pack on my arm, I decided it truly was time to stop feeling stung and defeated.  I'm going to let my kids and nephew live in the filth of their rooms and use my time to draw or write instead of yelling nonsense about clean rooms and friends coming who don't even care what my house looks like.  I wanted a fresh perspective and, boy, I got it.  I always say I need God/Universe to give me a neon sign because I'm not good at subtlety.  Message received.  Thank you, God.

I may step away from the dinosaurs though, my nephew wants a picture of Ghost Rider, so I'll work on that.  I'm going to get back to trying to blog regularly and write that novel I've been working on.  I've decided not to take the sting of rejection so hard and it might be the whiskey talking, but I do think T-Rexy a good book and self publishing may be in my future.  This journey is not yet over.

"You......who are you? And what the hell do you think you're doing?"
--Johnathon Blaze

Chakras

Holy crap!  When was my last blog?  As I do understand why I was given the advice to blog weekly and keep my page interesting, it is a lot more difficult to do.

I have not been in the studio.  Not sure, but I think it might be a chakra problem.  I saw a thing on Pinterest and I think it's either my Svadhishthana or the Vishuddha Chakra.  I'll try and follow through with that.  What I did do was edit/critically read a friend's novel.  Erotic novel.  That should that help with that Muladhara thing.  The thing is, it was so hard for her to let me take her novel.

We were sitting in the coffee shop and as she hands it over she is giving me her prepared speech, "It's a rough draft... and there is a lot of cock in it...it's a rough, rough draft.."  I almost had to pry it out of her hands.  I get this though, giving someone that little piece of you.  Something that you put on paper for all to see; that little bit of your soul to be criticized and judged.  I tried to reassure her that I would be gentle and that I get it.  I thought the best thing to do would give her T-Rexy.  The art and the words.  Like an, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" thing.  Thank you for the erotic novel, here is a picture book.  I'm pretty sure she didn't attack her husband after reading my book.

We did agree that silence from the potential publishers is a worse torture than a simple rejection letter.  It doesn't even have to be a letter.  Just in the subject line, a simple, "You suck" or "Don't quit your day job"  or in our case, "Get a day job".  We also talked about how important it is to have like minded people in your life.  To people that don't draw, everything I do is great.  My friend's mother, loved every bit of her novel.  (I know, right?  She showed her mother! Love that girl.)  Criticism can be very good, stings a little, but necessary to grow.  I gave my friend a shot and a beer before we went over her novel.  She decreed that this is how editing a friends novel/work should always start.

This is the conversation between me and my good friend Monica.  I was just telling her I was editing an erotic novel.  Monica is a writer as well, so I think it is important to keep encouraging your like minded friends to do what they do.

She is a talented writer.  She sends me snippets of amazing and sometimes scary writings.   I hound her relentlesssly to finish a book.  I'll send her the Chakra information.  Now I'm going to go to yoga, get right with my body and hopefully, my mind.  Then back to the studio.

Carpe Diem

Funny thing, life.  I was just stating with conviction, "I'm going to blog weekly!"  People seem to like it and it is causing them come back to my website.  Maybe it will bring more attention to the books or the art or whatever really, people are looking! I should've knocked on wood.

We've spent the last 12 days in Texas.  My father-in-law passed away after a long battle with caner.  Cancer sucks.  It was sad and just very heavy.  I could write a book on what a character he was.  He is in a better place and will be missed.  He taught us all something about everything.

Cancer is ruthless.

I realized very quickly that my job was to keep the kids busy, my two and my nephew and niece.  My in-laws live on an acre off a lake.  A lake filled with crawfish, fish and alligators.  Yep, alligators.  I'm a trooper though and we fished anyway.  I used to enjoy fishing but I must be getting softer as I age because it just seemed barbaric.  I think I threw four of the poor little guys back into the lake blind and one minus a bottom lip.  My daughter, though..wow!  She is a fisherwoman!  Nothing phased her.  I witnessed her stare down an alligator while untangling her brother's line from the roots.  I also realized in that moment that I would, indeed, wrestle an alligator.

I also bought a little kit from Walmart that had badminton, volleyball, a smaller, plastic version of lacrosse and Velcro ball. Velcro ball was a hit.  It was windy so volleyball and badminton became less competitive and more about counting how many times we could hit the ball/birdie over the net and return it.  Anna and Chris won in badminton with 17 successful passes.  Jesse cried about it and I think I would've too had I not been busy being a trooper.  Oh, and it was Easter.

We also crawfished.  I decided this would be an excellent to teach the kids how to prepare crawfish.  Anna was all, "We are killing them...why?" and Jesse was all, "This is cool!" Then I had to pour them into the boiling water.  Anna left in disgust and Jesse wished he was big enough pour.  Jesse took one teeny tiny bite and was done and Anna, so the little critters didn't die in vain, tried them.  She and I ate them all, all 18 of them.  We didn't suck the the heads.  No.  I just couldn't.

We are home now, creatively I don't have much to report.  I painted.  Not the fun kind, the work kind. My guest room used to be green and not a good green.  The bathroom was gray-blue.  It is now all Behr "Earthware".  Also, I have re-established my conviction to blog weekly.

Life...seize every moment.

Beer-Thirty

Janice and I often have a time of day we affectionately call "Beer-Thirty".  It is a time for us to take a bit of a break from our kids/lives and chat unadulterated for about an hour over a beer, a glass or two of wine or whatever is in our liquor cabinets.  Seriously, one time, all I could come up with was a screw driver using vodka that was very Russian (I just shivered at the memory).  Once she choked back a few Skinny Girl Margarita's and made me promise to never buy it; as only one of us should have to suffer through it. We've even had tea, plain old tea.

We mostly trade photography/art ideas and kid stuff.  It wouldn't be right if I didn't admit to talking about husbands -we sometimes even praise them.   There is no judgement or disclaimers, we've been friends a long time.

Recently, we might've had too much beer at beer-thirty, might've just been me, but we played this game.  "If you had a million dollars..."  When we say 'a million dollars', we really mean an Oprah kind of rich.  We went tit for tat at first, I'd order shit from Pottery Barn and Athleta instead of just folding the catalog pages and hoping I find something similar at Target.  She agreed and countered with the hiring of organization people to get the crap organized once and for all -spare no room nor cost.  We'd have better clothes, particularly underwear and socks.  We'd upgrade our supplies, she'd get that camera she's been eyeing that costs thousands and I'd lose my mind at Dick Blick's.

We got a little crazy and dreamed about buying time and health, but agreed a house cleaner, gardener and a cook would be AMAZING. We'd be neighbors, to do beer-thirty in person instead of over the phone.  We'd set the kids up for their futures. I'd probably go ahead and tithe more so we can get to heaven.

Funny thing, neither one of us mentioned plastic surgery or mansions or fashion week.  We don't want to change how we live or how our kids live, we want to stay the same regular ol' gals -but with nicer underpants.

She also asked me do a picture for her youngest daughter's room to match the Origami bird she got.  At least, I think she said bird...

I haven't heard anything from the publishers I sent 'T-Rexy' to, -except the one rejection email.  Keep your fingers crossed.  Going to finish the 'What's It saying' book.  It's been on my list of things to do for too long.  Plus, I bought a metallic gold paint that my friend Steph has, need to see what happens with that!

Sometimes someone else says it better

"To be an Artist you need talent, as well as a wife
who washes the socks and the children,
and returns phone calls and library books and types.
In other words, the reason there are so many more
Men Geniuses than Women Geniuses is not Genius.
It is because Hemingway never joined the P.T.A.
And Arthur Rubinstein ignored Halloween.
Do you think Portnoy's creator sits through children's theater
matinees--on Saturdays?
Or that Norman Mailer faced 'driver's ed' failure,
chicken pox or chipped teeth?
Fitzgerald's night was so tender because the fender
his teen-ager dented happened when Papa was at a story conference.
Since Picasso does the painting, Mrs. Picasso did the toilet training.
And if Saul Bellow, National Book Award winner, invited thirty-three
for Thanksgiving Day dinner, I'll bet he had help.
I'm sure Henry Moore was never a Cub Scout leader,
and Leonard Bernstein never instructed a tricycler
On becoming a bicycler just before he conducted.
Tell me again my anatomy is not necessarily my destiny,
tell me my hang-up is a personal and not a universal quandary,
and I'll tell you no muse is a good muse
unless she also helps with the laundry.”
― Rochelle Distelheim

Track today

Prisoner in My Own Body

This past week or so I've been hearing that I need more media on here.  In my "Portfolio" section I want/need to put stuff not related to a book but stuff I did when the Muse possessed me or stuff "commissioned" by a friend.  However, that thing called life kept interrupting me this week.  We had 4 or 5 Snow Days...with no snow.  Which made my children so angry that the little guy was crying about it.  

Also, I wasn't feeling great.  I'll spare you the details but it's been going on for a while.  Apparently, I got to the right doctor on Friday and by Wednesday, I was in "Out Patient Surgery".  Shit, right?!  I was terrified; but regardless of my greatest fears, I did awaken from anesthesia and no surprises in surgery.  No more Grey's Anatomy for me.

The doctor instructed me to bed rest until Monday.  Bed rest until Monday?  Torture.  (My husband just came down here and threatened to put me in traction if I didn't go back to the couch.)  Now I am on Season 2 Episode 4 of The Good Wife.  Ready to start Season 2 of Peaky Blinders but I can only watch that when there are no children running around.  It's a fantastic show, watch it.  I tried to watch American Horror Story...too scary.  And obviously Grey's Anatomy messes with my head.  So, its me and Julianna Margulies who mostly just nods knowingly.

I did manage a sketch.


A friend of mine, Stephanie Jones of Paper, Canvas, Etc did some amazing things with metallics in her watercolors this week; it got me excited.  I have a Cherry Blossom Janice, of we were almost a gang but mostly sat in a tree, asked me to do that is waiting patiently for color.  If I could only get off this couch.
http://www.papercanvasetc.com

Valentine's Day

Ah...Valentines Day.  In our house, we buy the kids a little something, I usually get a nice card and flowers (to be planted not cut).  I try, I give my husband a nice card and I put on my good underwear, but we rarely go crazy over the holiday.
I spent the first 4 hours of my day organizing Lego's.  F'ing Legos.  They. Are. Everywhere.  My kittens like to chase the heads around; imagine it's 4 am and the sound of a tiny plastic head bouncing down the wood stairs and 2 kittens on the chase.  My son likes to play Star Wars, Gotham City, Ninja Turtles, Lego City; whatever it is, they all have to blow up.  When these little guys blow, they lose everything.  Everything.  Their heads, arms, hands, legs, assorted hair/hat/helmet.

In honor of Valentine's Day, my husband came down to help and I quote, "Here's Wonder Woman's bottom, I'd recognize those star spangled undies anywhere."  The whole project was a huge pain in the butt, but I think I got it this time.

It's still a work in progress.  But dang...4 hours.  It's all I could give.

Getting back to the thing I do.  I watercolored a sun.  (Insert eyes closed straight mouth emoji)  I'm also thinking I want to watercolor the What's It Saying? book.  Luckily I need a sun for the book. I'm calling it progress.

It was amazing.  I had my music on, a glass of wine and a brush.  This puts my world right.  This is why I do it.  My son (The Lego enthusiast) came in at one point and struggled with scissors.  At one point he burst out, 'WHY CAN'T THESE CUT!" and was pissed that I wouldn't draw him a bird, but honestly...it's part of it.  Part of putting my world right.  I gave him some old oil pastels and he made us all valentines.  My daughter came in an offered her critique of this sun (another eyes closed straight mouth emoji).  I loved every minute of it, though.  Happy Valentine's Day.

Keep On Keeping On

Really trying hard to get things done this week, there is just never enough time.  I just got home from my weekly "lunch relief" volunteer thing I do at school.  Me against 20 second graders, at lunchtime, to give the teacher a break.  2 of them, my son and his best buddy, were on my side. Today, they all somehow earned the privilege of eating in the Butterfly Garden.  So, there we were, outside, freezing our butts off eating "pizza".  Nobody could sit still or be quiet, so I just quit trying.  They were literally screaming and running around.  The wind was blowing so hard I thought we'd all come in covered in pizza sauce and the random lettuce leaf.  I was also pretty sure I'd get cited for littering.

Luckily, we were outside by ourselves where no one could witness my failure.  I leave feeling like I need a stiff drink and that I should be doused in hand sanitizer. The kids love me by the way, they have mistaken "nice" for "beaten".

Enough about the stuff that prevents me from doing my thing, I did manage to research publishing companies.  In the process of putting together query letters and bio's I realize I have no pictures of myself.  None.  None without the kids or making a goofy face or gang/peace signs.  (The only gang I've ever belonged to was in 7th grade and my best friend, Janice and I were going to be the "new" Pink Ladies...we had no hand signs or cool jacket, nor did the gang ever fully come together as a force to be reckoned with.  We did, however, have a tree we sat in planning it all.)

Needing a picture, I employed my 21 year old son, who resides in my basement (don't judge), with the task.  Disgruntled photographers do not take good pictures.  I also decided I was done with eating.  My 14 year old daughter was the next hire.  She is good.  I may give her her phone back.  During our "photo shoot", as I was sitting there trying to look professional, when my 7 year old yells for help...from the bathroom.

This picture really frustrated my daughter because I moved.

I am now out of time to blog as I gotta pick kids up from school.  I will leave you with this, I finished the dandelion, the bio, the query and one good picture.  This week is about "Just keep trying".

Loving Wife and Mother

I was showing my mom the progress on my website, we got to the "About Me" page and we had a little giggle over "...loving wife and mother."  Not that I am not a loving wife or mom, it's just an incomplete description.  I am a normal wife.  We fight, we make up, we try to raise these kids and I sometimes serve spinach passive aggressively.  We have endured a 20+ year military career and I am very proud of that, but let's be honest, it wasn't always a walk in the park.  I am a regular mom.  As a matter fact, I have one child not speaking to me, the middle child is not drinking enough water and taking Miralax and the little guy could read more, we often lie on his reading sheet from school.

Then there is this, the "art stuff" thing I do that is not about mom or wife.  Trying to squeeze in a little time to draw is always the challenge.  Last night I poured a glass of wine and headed up to my "studio".  I hated the dandelion I was working on, decided on a different media and another glass of wine.  The youngest came in and we had to dance to "Uptown Funk".  Can not say 'No' to "Uptown Funk", but I should, because it's 20 minutes later before I'm back at the drawing board.  I was able to put in another hour with the dancing kid under my desk cursing the kittens and a moment where the 13 year old could not figure out problem 20.  Then I remembered I had to feed everyone.  So that's it.  As you try to do "your thing" life happens.

I mentioned in the "About Me" section that now is the time to focus on this art side a little more and this blog will somewhat try and record the journey.  My hope is that it will inpsire you to do that thing you've always wanted to do or did, but put aside to raise kids or work or whatever stopped you.

This is the quote on our chalkboard, "So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.
Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever.” ― Neil Gaiman

I hope the kids do not interpret this the wrong way.  I'm not bailing anybody out.  Let's dance.