“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
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
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 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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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!
"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
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
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.
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".
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.
