Conversation in a the Library

Tonight I was in Herrick Library (one of the two libraries at Alfred University) looking for a couple of movies to take home and watch over the next couple of days.

As I was sorting through the rack I was talking to another of my class-mates (one of my twenty-something fellow students.) We were chit-chatting back and forth about different movies. She was complaining about being on campus until Friday after most of the students in our class had already headed home.

But then, she was also complaining about WHERE she had to go for her break. Apparently her mom (no mention of a father so I am assuming a divorce or death) lives in New York City.

Well, I was just so excited for her. Being an artist in New York City! I mean, there is probably no other place in the world (maybe Berlin or Paris?) where more is happening to keep a young artist thriving (at least on the art scene) and making connections.

But, no. She was just clearly bummed out.

So, I had to let that one go.

Oh, the stupidity of youth.

I guess I was once that stupid and short-sighted too.

Besides my encounter in the library, I went to a foundry Christmas party. Free Pizza! I am a college student after all and the word FREE and FOOD equal YES, I'll be there.

So, I went to the party.

Of course, since there was no booze or drugs it was a short party.

The party was supposed to start at 6 p.m. I didn't want to be too tacky so I stopped and got a couple of bottles of soda (found out I didn't have to later on) and when I got there at 6:15 there were only two slices of pizza left. Fortunately, there was one slice of plain pizza and one slice of mushroom. And, I hate mushrooms so you know which one I took. The one lovely slice of pizza was followed by too many chocolate candies and slices of cake.

Oh, and yes, besides the food goodies we each got a little (tacky) plastic ring as a memento of our time at foundry.

Here we are, all wearing our tacky plastic rings, power-rangers style. Metal heads unite!

Enjoy the pix!



Before I close, here's an image of the latest painting I'm working on.

It's a 4' by 5' canvas.

Another day on the planet

And, I didn't change my bed sheets today. . .and, I don't think anybody really cares but me. So, I'll get to it tomorrow since I have the next four to five weeks of yawning time ahead of me before the next semester starts.

Tomorrow my plans are to be in the studio at about 9 a.m. (do you think it will actually happen?) then, I've got to get on the road to see the orthopedic surgeon-type guy and have him look at my deteriorating hands.

See, all of us human beings need those tools we call hands, and especially us artist types.

So, hopefully whatever is happening with my human tools will hold off on its deterioration path until some time off in the far-future. Meanwhile, I'll gratefully make do with the equipment I've got.

Re-remembering

What am I re-remembering?

The me of 1970-something. The me who couldn't wait to make a painting, work on a new project, see a new idea move from thought to form. But, I am also re-remembering that one who didn't have an appreciation for life, who was so immature she thought that life owed her something.

Life owes me nothing. I owe everything to life and to the source of my life: God.

Now, I'm not waxing all religious at you now because my concept of who/or what/or how God lives and moves within me has changed. But, I know that as surely as I breath right now that the spirit of love and life and enthusiasm burns more brightly in me than it ever did in my twenty year-old body and soul.

Maybe I'm just more aware of it now and the fleetingness of time and my relative insignificance and magnificence in the whole warp and weft of my time here on this fragile planet.

And, I am pleased to be in this also increasingly fragile body that holds hope and love and dreams within its walls.

Life is what it is.

And, I must get to bed so I can start another day of painting tomorrow!

Wednesday in the week that is

Sometimes, among all people in the world, I feel extremely blessed.

I say this not because I am financially rich, actually the opposite is true, but because I am blessed with a life that I never dreamed I could have.

There are days and times when, like the rest of us 'human-beans', I'm faltering in the dark and I feel as if I'm slogging through oatmeal. Then is when I need to trust the most that God (or whatever you chose to call that divine entity within us)will carry me through, and indeed I am taken care of.

This past week has been a series of challenges, as I worked past my own defects of procrastination, ingratitude and short sightedness.

Then, this morning as I walked from my car through the parking lot to my painting studio (can you imagine, MY painting studio?)I decided that I should soak in the minutes as I walked in solitude toward my painting space.

The morning was crisp and clear. I filled my lungs with the cool autumn air. I reminded myself that no matter how insignificant that moment might seem in the span of my life I was fully alive, and fully present, and fully blessed to be aware of the gift.

As I passed fellow students I felt light and present. I wish I could feel that way all the time. I believe it is called being in the NOW. So, I need to practice this more and more. It is the key to sanity and peace.

What else happened today?

I sat through a presentation in art history class that, as far as being a presentation went, was pretty poor. But, as being a testament to someones belief system was very rich.

How do I explain how someone who is talking about the art of tattooing feels it is a religious experience?

This young man talked about how he tried to discourage young people that came in requesting a tattoo. He said that it was a very important decision (I agree) and that whatever art was put on the body spoke volumes about what people believed. It was incredibly amazing to me that he felt so strongly about something that I considered strictly a vanity item.

One thing that art school has done for me, besides the opportunity to develop my art practice, is to open my mind and my heart to those younger than me who are struggling with their own path of spiritual growth, whatever that may be.

Now, after the philosophical waxing tonight, I'm going in include some pictures of my latest bells.

The first picture is of the 'faux shrine' directly inside the front door of my house. The picture above the cabinet is the 'Mega Mary' painting I did my Sophomore year, the glass arch object on the table is a glass casting I made (it actually lights up but I didn't take the picture that way) and all of the bells (except the five tiny ones) are on the chest. The two newest ones are the two in the middle. They both ring at different tones.
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Here's a closeup shot of all the bells.



The five smaller ones that are less than two inches tall don't really make a sound, of course they have no clappers, that might be why or they are just too thick for such a small bell.



Whatever.

Here they are.

And I am almost done with this semester. . . . . how wonderful is that?

Here I Am-Rockin' Like a Hurricane

O.K., what rock group did that song? I can hear the music roaring through my head. . . . and, the winner is. . . . . I dunno. Sorry.

I'm posting again after a hiatus of at least a few days. It's been radically insanely end-of-semester busy.

I'm up early today to so I can get to the studio and get something painted before my crit today. This will be the last of my crits for the semester. After this, there will only be the obligatory helping to clean up the studios duties. Imagine that, we pay all this money for art school and they US to clean up the studios. What a racket, eh?

So, yesterday I did my 45 minute presentation on the Klingit native culture of Southeastern Alaska. I also handed in my 10-page paper (that I found out isn't actually due until a week from now.) Then, headed down to the foundry and set up a small performance related to my 'heritage' theme.

After cleaning up the table in the wax room (which could only be described by the Italian slang word 'shkeeve!' I dressed things up with my great-grandmother's yellow crocheted table cloth, my crystal candle sticks, a couple settings of miss-match plates (with forks, knives and spoons) two demitasse cups and saucers and, in the middle of the table I put a mirror with the two newly completed bronze bells and the three larger wax bells that will be cast in iron next semester.

The performance was simple and short. The theme was 'welcoming my ancestors to the table.'

I dressed for the occasion, because if I really was inviting my dear departed ancestors I wanted to have on some of my nicest clothes.

Lighting the candles at the table I said, "Ospiti onorati benvenuto!" (Welcome honored guests) Then, looking down at the table and gesturing toward the plates I said, "ho impostato la tabella nel ricordo e nell amore." (I set the table in remembrance and love.) Then I picked up each of the bells (representing both grandmothers) and rang them.

Here are some pictures one of my classmates took.





I guess I'll be rockin' on today since I've got a full day schedule ahead of me.

Monday-early

Wow, I'm up and posting already. Could this be because I haven't posted in days?

Perhaps, but oh well . . . .

I'm attaching the latest finished self portrait (1993).

Here goes:



Now, I'm off to foundry and then art history class.

I might post more later.

New Day

Every day is a new chance to live the life I have always dreamed of, that of living as an artist.

So, yesterday was a rough day. All I had to do was get through that twenty-fours hours and arrive at this new day that has been wonderful.

Why so wonderful?

Well, I slept until about 10 a.m. then, I got up and George had made me a wonderful French toast breakfast!

Then, he followed me to campus and carried a four by five foot stretcher (frame) up to my studio. I carried the canvas, (that I had bought last year and never stretched) and got a fellow student to stretch the canvas for me. After stretching I got a couple of coats of gesso on the canvas so I could get ready to start a painting next week (wait? isn't that Thanksgiving break week?)

Besides prepping a canvas I also put some work on another in the self-portrait series.

Here's the results of today's work:



When I got home tonight from the studio there was a another fabulous meal by George made from the left overs of last night's roast chicken dinner; shepard's pie made with the left over chicken-yum!

If I don't watch it I'm going to end up being a B-L-I-M-P!

Welcome to my implosion

My day started off wonderfully and then I had a bad good crit today in painting . . . . I guess I'm just a bit sensitive, and maybe I should develop a thicker skin if I'm going to survive as an artist.

I've got to find a new way to paint, since my hands are hurting and they are my tools!

So, either I learn to paint big. . . or sloppy (trying not to move the wrist too much.)

This IS art school. They seem to like it sloppy, or at least loose.

Life offers me lots of chances to improvise.

Is that good? I suppose it's neither good nor bad, it just 'is'.

I'd better go, George is putting a fabulous chicken dinner on the table (lucky lady, me.)

A New Day

Today, thankfully, was much better than yesterday despite the fact that I woke up in the same cranky body.

I snuggled in bed with my two boys, Beezer and Tai-tai until about 9:30 then I got up, dressed, had breakfast and headed off to school.

One of the students did a presentation on Japanese Butoh dancing. I thought it was pretty interesting. . . . then I made my way to my studio, determined to get a painting at least started today.

I looked around my studio and decided I wanted a couple of more canvases to paint on. That, apparently was a good decision. The 24" by 36" format just doesn't seem to work too well for me.

So, I made my way up to the book store and bought one 16" by 20" and one 22" by 30", and a disposable paint mixing pallette (because scraping down the glass pallette in my studio would definately kill my already sore hands.)

I had a close up shot I had taken last summer of some radishes given to me by the farmer behind my house.

And, here's what I worked up today:



To the left of the vegetal thing is the third self-portrait I've been working one. I ended up covering over the left eye because it just wasn't right and then I just got sick of the whole thing.

So, I decided to go all 'vegetal' again.

Here's a closer shot of just the painting:



And, here are some things I left at the foundry. These are clappers for bells and one new bell I'm working on.

I just decided I've got to finish up what's there. I just can't work there anymore. Everytime I leave there I'm in agony for days. The details on the wax work, the grinding, everything just aggravates my tendonitis and whatever else is going on with my wrists.



So, it's back to painting, my first love.

Tomorrow night I'll be back to the Tlingits, my favorite North West native culture!

Haven't been here in a while. . . .

. . .I've been here.

So, today wasn't a particularly good day. I brought in a fresh canvas and some great Arches paper to start another work on. I even got to my morning class, (and brought a sandwich for lunch so I'd hang out and paint) then, went to the studio and began working from a photo I had brought in, but my hands just hurt so much that I put the stuff down. How depressing.

Then I stopped into Hope Zaccagni's office (she's a wonderful painter and our resident tech person-she makes sure we have solvent, rags and a host of other supplies) to talk for a bit. I was tearful. She was encouraging, telling me I could get a wrist brace and maybe attach a brush to it so I could paint.

She suggested I take a walk down to the pharmacy and see what they had that might help me.

I decided that first I'd eat the sandwich I brought. So, I polished that off and then walked down to the pharmacy.

They only had left-hand braces so I got and in my car and decided to ride to Hornell to the Wal-Mart to see if they had any right hand braces.

Then suddenly, I was blessed with nausea. How wonderful.

When I got to the Wal-Mart parking lot I made a few calls from my cell phone (because I just needed human contact) and got my friend Marian in CT. We talked for a few minutes. I was tearful again and decided I wasn't going to go into Wal-Mart but instead I would head home and go back to bed because I was exhausted.

So, at approximately 2 p.m. I changed out of my day clothes and put on my P.J.s and headed to bed.

Tomorrow, thankfully, is another day. And, I hope my hands feel better.

I keep on telling myself, "I can do this with the help of God."

Posting, posting

My exciting life encapsulated for you, my faithful readers: I slept late, then went to the painting studio.

Now, I am home.

How exciting is that?

Well, really, more than that happened. I put more work on my third self-portrait (could this be a trend?) based on a 1993 head shot. Man, did I ever wear a lot of makeup back then!

It's one of those 'forest for the trees' moments. I guess I was so close to my own face that I never realized I was putting on my make up with a trowel. Man!

Here's the pic so you can get a laugh:


My exciting life encapsulated for you, my faithful readers: I slept late, then went to the painting studio.

I actually sent this photo to my niece in Oregon. Can you imagine? I look like a typical Lawngeyeland Yenta. Oh well, not to disparage any ethnic group. . . . PC all the way!

I forgot to bring my camera with me to the studio today so I don't have any pictures in progress on this one. I'll bring it tomorrow and update you then.

I'm giving the painting studio at least another full day this week. Then, I have to make my way to the foundry to get waxes ready so I'll have something for the final crit.

My plans are to four more bells. Two will be larger than what I've made so far and they'll be a sort of memorial to my grandparents that came over 'on the boat' from Italy. Hmmmm, I think I need to do more research on this one.

Well, it's off to bed with me. I have class early tomorrow (11:20 is early?)

I really need to get there today since I missed class this morning (a painful and ugly stomach part of my day today-but that's over.)

Sunday morning-Dos Gatos

It's a quiet Sunday morning here in Almond, N.Y. I've been up since a little bit before 5 a.m. and thought I'd make some constructive use of 'insomniac time' to look up some info about residencies and study some stuff for my research paper-presentation due the Monday after Thanksgiving.

I have luxury annoyances this morning. My scanner-printer-copier isn't behaving and I had to reload the software last night and fiddle with it some other ways this morning. So, I'm not getting done as much as I would like to.

I made a nuisance of myself over the last couple of days, calling up old friends to talk. I still don't feel like this place is my home, and yet, I feel a debt of gratitude to George for moving up here and giving me a place to live.

But, it's just so NOT the center of the art universe (or the general universe for that matter.)

And what are today's plans, you might ask?

To extricate myself from my bathrobe and P.J.s, get dressed (and somewhere in there take a shower for the consideration of all those around me) and make my way over the library to see if I can find some of the journal articles I located but was unable to get the full text of on line.

Then, it's off to the painting studio. I'm working on two paintings at this time and have an idea for a third one.

If I want to get any kind of residencies, grants, or even move on to Grad school I've GOT to have a more extensive portfolio than what I have now.

work, work, work, learn, learn, learn, earn, earn, earn!

Middle 'O The Week

I haven't posted in a few days so there's a bit of catch up to do.

Yesterday I had my metal casting crit. I was given a small room, across the hall from one of the student galleries. Since I didn't feel I had much to show from the whole half a semester's work I decided to do a performance piece. In this small square room, I draped a red and yellow batik piece up on the ceiling just below the two industrial strip lights suspended from the ceiling. I did this to soften up a completely white cube and give it a warm glow.

Then, I attached a yellow crocheted table cloth (made by my great-grandmother) to the back wall, so that when you opened the door it was the first thing you would see besides me standing behind a table, draped in a lace tablecloth, in an old velvet hippie dress I still have from the fabulouse seventies (that still, miraculously fits) with a sack on the table containing the bells I had cast.

On the side walls of the small room I had pictures from childhood and some pictures of my hand after surgery a few years ago as well as a photo I had taken of a bee pollinating a daisy.

When the class came in the room, I had a sparkly black scarf on my head and I picked up a small black sketch book I had on the table and began to read, "This is what memory is" and plucked a bell out of the sack rang it. Then I said, "the things we hold within" and rang another bell, and, "a fragment of fading", (bell ringing) different sounds at different times (bell ringing) resonating. . ."

O.K., so it's a bit wooky but it's art school, and for me, bells really do evoke a time of innocence, and purity, a simpler time, a time when hours and life passages (birth, death, and weddings) were marked by bells.

Bells are tolled when wars end, when days end, when life ends. They are a simple yet glorious instrument. And, I am making some of my own, that hopefully will pass into the hands of others who appreciate the music they make. And they, unlike me, will be around for a very, very long time.

I wondered today, for just a little bit, why my arms and back ached so much. Could it have been the ladder and heavy bronze bells, tablecloths and other stuff I carried from my car into the little gallery the day before? Am I really that decrepit? I guess the answer is . . . yes!

So, here are some of the bells I made. I should have taken a picture of the performance space. A big duh on my part!






So, there are the bells. I have a new appreciation for anyone that does metal sculpture. Some of the pictures I've put into previous posts show some of the process involved.

Now, on to my 'happy place', the painting studio. I had a crit with a couple of my painting professors today. I never quite know if they've liked what I've done or not. . .

The two paintings I showed in my crit today were the completed (second version) 1973 High School portrait and a painting I did from a photo of my dad holding me when I was an infant (a mere fifty-five years-ago).

The H.S. portrait was already posted on my October 30th blog.

So, here's the (still unfinished) painting from the old photo.



Now that I look at the photo of the painting I can see where there are wonky angles and I need to do something more constructive with the background. I dunno.

So, I showed these two paintings for my crit today and the male prof (who will remain nameless) says something to me about how all this work is about the 'past' and, "what are you doing with your life now?"

This question totally floored me.

I had no response.

Why? I thought I had worked up a good angle from which to paint and I was all set to retell stories from my family life.

And so, the question has plagued me since he asked it.

What AM I doing with my life now?

Well, first and foremost, I am going to art school.

Why?

Because I want to paint for the rest of my life.

I never want to stop.

How can I make that happen?

I think I am making it happen right now.

Just dropping in before bed

So, today was a packed day.

I got up early (7:30 a.m.) to register for the spring semester.

Thank God I don't have any more academic requirements after this semester is through.

I'll have my art history minor by the end of this semester. Halleluiah!

So, I registered for my two (count 'em) 2, painting studios next semester.

But, before I get there I've still got to survive foundry and my art history class.

I didn't take any new pics today. I'm just so focused on tomorrow's presentation.

I'm 'dressing up' for this one. My professor seems to love performance, so I've pulled an old hippy dress out of my closet and i'm going to wear that tomorrow with my pee-tinaed pendant. . . . to ring the bells.

More on this tomorrow.

G'night!

Hey, latest work in progress

Can't stay on here long right now. I've got to get to school. I've got class at 11:20, then lunch break, then metal sculpture crits throughout the afternoon.

Here are the latest pictures from studio:



See me in the window taking the picture?



I'm using old photos so I wanted to show the tabbed edges. Cool, eh?

O.K., y'all I'm off to the shower to get my self dressed and out for the day.

I might be back later with me.

Have a sparkling day!

It's WAY too late for me to be up right now

. . but I justed to get my latest finished piece of self portrait work out on my blog. So. here it is, the self portrait based on my 1973 Greenwich High School portrait.



Hopefully,this will be the start of something great. Enjouy!

Hello World, for the 55th Consecutive Year!

And here I am, flush with pride at having dodged the bullet long enough to celebrate my 55th year since alighting to the planet.

That's just a fancy way of saying happy birthday to me, again!

My day started in my beloved, soft bed, surrounded by my two little fur boys! Ah, the joys of sleeping (something which I once disdained as only for 'dead people')

How life does change, eh?

So, upon alighting from my queenly bed (ahem) I promptly fed the fur boys (who were more than happy to exit the comforter) and hung around waiting for George to wake up because he promised to make me a big breakfast the night before.

Another one of my life's passions is FOOD!

He made a wonderful scrambled egg and toast breakfast-thoroughly enjoyable-and then I proceeded to fritter away the day in my favorite red bathrobe and flannel PJs.

A person would think I had nothing on my agenda!

Oh, I forgot to mention, while I was laying in bed this morning (before 8 a.m.) I heard all kinds of sirens and fire horns going off. Apparently one third of downtown Alfred went on fire this morning un-housing about a dozen AU students and destroying a couple of businesses.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. But, a couple of businesses went up in flames.

There was news coverage from both the Buffalo and Rochester stations. The building that went up on the small block downtown were probably well over a hundred years old.

Here's the news link from the Hornell Evening Tribune:

The one business loss that was most deeply mourned by the students (apparently) was Alfred's only liquor store. I'm sure the alcohol helped the fire just a tad.

Anyway, back to my b-day news.

What did I accomplish today?

Not much.

My called me this morning and did their birthday song into my voice mail. This is the perfect start to ANY birthday for me! They always sing together in harmony-which is such a kick and my most favorite birthday present (honestly, no money or card could ever replace this) and then I got FB b-day wishes from my niece, little sister and another VM from my little bro Larry and then lot of FB wishes from friends near and far!

Oh, and yes, I got the birthday card from my parents. Thanks Mom and Dad!

Then, I basically frittered the day away until George took me out for a good Chinese food dinner.

To top off my evening, Franner called from CT to wish me a HB.

Now, how could I possibly top that?

Thanks and love to all (both near and far) that made this a wonderful fifty-fifth B-Day!

I am truly blessed.

Now, Beezer and Tai-tai, let's go off to bed . . . zzzzzzzzz

Happy Birthday to Me!

O.K., so that's my own bit of shameless promotion.

Yes, today I am officially (well not actually officially until about 12:45 p.m.) fifty five years-old! OMG, now there, I've said it.

I'm sitting right now, in my favorite red bathrobe, between my two cats, (Beezer and Tai-tai) in the blessed silence of a birthday morning.

And, it is good to be 55, or whatever ever age I get to be.

Today I plan on getting some reading and writing done for art history, and a bit of studio time at the foundry (dipping, dipping) then off to painting studio, my happy place.

Tonight George is taking me out to dinner at a Chinese-Japanese place in Hornell called, "Rainbow Heaven."

Oh, I've got a couple of pics I took at the studio yesterday, works in progress.



The one above is from an old 4X6 photo of Dad and me shortly after I was born. The picture was taken on Pemberwick Road, looks like it was taken in front of the old shoemaker's shop.

This other picture is of my 'studio mate' Madeline with one of her unfinished paintings.



Oh, and we couldn't leave out the boys . . .

Tuesday, Works In Progress

Today was another packed day.

George succeeded in getting me out of bed this morning by appealing to my cat-maternal nature, ("come on Beezer, Mommy's going to get out of bed and feed you.")

My cat was ecstatic. I was not. But oh, what the hell, I got out of bed and within forty-five minutes was dressed, washed, made up, fed breakfast by George and out the door to my art history class. Yes, I know, that in itself is a miracle of God.

After class I drove over to the foundry to dip my wax bells in ceramic shell. Here's what they look like in this in-process state.



If you look at the picture (sorry, it's not very sharp) there are seven (count 'em 7) wax bells on the sprue and vent system. If it all casts I'll be cutting off and grinding bronze bells like a fiend next week to make it for the November 3rd crit.

Here's what the room in the foundry looks like where the wax is dipped (first in the giant mixer on the right, then in the stucco bins on the left.)



After the 'quick dip' at the foundry, I stopped home for food (one of my life's passions) and to pick up a picture I'm going to use for my next painting.

Then, I headed to the painting studio (my happy place) and started working on V. 2 of my self portrait (from a 1973 High School photo.)

It's taking me FOREVER to get the likeness right, but, I think I'm finally getting there. Ya know, you would think that after looking at my puss all these years I'd get it down.

So, here's what the painting looks like right now (before I head out the door to the studio again).



"And, that (as Walter Cronkite once said, on network T.V.) is the way it is."

Good night from Almond, N.Y.

Too Pooped to Post

But I am anyway. Just a short one.

Today I spend about six hours sitting next to the wax pot at the foundry. And what, you ask did I accomplish? Did I get some waxes all ready to be coated in ceramic shell and ready for a metal pour (a special metal pour that I requested) on Wednesday evening?

And the answer is . . . a drum roll please . . . .

NO!
But I did get most of the way through one that I think will be acceptable enough to coat and get ready for Wednesday.

The other one (there were two sprue and vent systems I made to cast a bunch of stuff) got (politely, helpfully) squewered by our resident graduate sculpture student who just happened to be hanging out in the foundry and wanted to let me know that he wouldn't 'bother' putting one of my wax thingies into shell becuase he just thought it wouldn't fill with metal.

And, he was right.

So, I was going to take pictures of the stuff I'm working on but it was getting to be close to eight o'clock and I was just starving.

So, I went home.

And that, for all you boys and girls out there, means that at some time tomorrow I'm going to have to shimmy my little butt back to the foundry to get it done.

Oh, and on top of that I put some investment molds into the burn out kiln (to get the wax out of the molds) and hope they will work, because the investment just looked like it was all bubbly and it should be smooth.

Blah, blah, blah. . .I am fascinated by metal casting but it is just so time consuming and frustrating. I just can't wait till the semester is over.

I think it's going to be 100% painting for my senior show.

Gotta go. I've still got an annotated bibliography to finish so I can hand it in at art history tomorrow morning.

Last train to Waxville

So, I just got back from the foundry.

I am continuing my wax insanity and realized tonight that I simply have too many wax bells to cast next Wednesday. So, I have to limit myself to just six more, because besides the wax bells I have small items (the ones I put in last night's posting) and I really don't want to lose my sanity again in the same semester.

I worked for about six hours today on my second version of the 1973 self-portrait. I thought I had gotten the face just right when I took a good last look and realized my nose was too long! Sh(*$!

So, tomorrow one of the things I'll be doing is shortening my face, getting another canvas ready for the next painting, running to Walmart (my favorite and almost only place to shop) for one of my favorite staples; cat litter.

After that thrilling trip it'll be back to the foundry to assemble stuff so I can start dipping it in the lovely green-yellow-phosphorescent slurry and get it ready to cast next Wednesday evening.

I didn't take any pics today of my work. That will have to wait until tomorrow.

G'night world.

Paint, Wax and Ice Cream!

No, I'm not mixing them together and eating them!

On Thursdays I don't have Art History, so, I have more time for studio work.

So, since I got a late start, I had a late end. But, I did accomplish some things so. . .wutevah!

I went to the painting studio first. I'm working on a second pass at a self-portrait based on my 1973 High School photo that was never actually bought. I'm working from a digitized copy of the photographer's proof. The original copy has holes punched across my bust and I don't know where it actually resides right now. But with a little help from Photoshop it's now a digital memory and my bust doesn't look like swiss cheese.

Funny, I was talking to someone in my studio who had the funkiest home-made, tacky digital watch, so I complimented him on it. Then I went to show him mine, a good old watch with hands AND numbers, and he said, "I'm sorry" as if he was taking pity on me for wearing an 'old fashioned' watch! So, I told him I live in my "own time zone."

And, if you know me, you know that's very true. Time (or rather, being on time) has always been a challenge for me. The only place I have to be on time on a regular basis lately is my art history class, three times a week I have to be there by 11:20 a.m. That's not too hard to take.

So, here's the work in progress self-portrait from earlier today:



I've been having a really difficult time getting a likeness. You would think that after looking at my face all these years I would have that down. But then, my face is changing anyway so I'm looking at past history here. I know when I was in high school I didn't appreciate my face. I thought I was ugly.

Time and distance sure does change perspective.

While I was painting, my studio partner came in and started working on one of her paintings. She tends to gravitate to paintings of her friends and zombies. Hey, who am I to judge? Just a month ago I was painting my tits on a canvas.

After painting for a few hours I headed down to the foundry to work on wax. I was able to get the foundry teacher to schedule an extra metal pour next Wednesday because I would never be able to make it for the next group crit on November 2nd without the extra pour date.

So, here are some pictures of the depth of my wax-insanity.



This WAS my wax bell-bowl. I put in back into the wax pot tonight because:
1. It would weigh a ton if it was actually cast
2. I am sick of looking at it
3. I couldn't get the stupid thing to attach to the wax sprues last time so I'm done!

But I had to take pictures of it before it went to its waxy grave in the wax pot. Oh, what a cruel fate! Who knows what creatures exist at the bottom of the primordial ooze?

And, here is more wax insanity. I'm not sure I'm going to cast all of this stuff.



These are little pendants. When my professor saw that I was going into 'production mode' she discouraged me from pursuing this commercial line of thought. This, after all, is 'art school' and we aren't supposed to be thinking about things like eating and clothing ourselves. We are supposed to be making ART!

I don't know, I guess I've worked for so long (and made a living) that my brain keeps on thinking, what am I going to do to make a living when I get out of here?


I suppose I ought to suppress those thoughts for now.

So besides the pendants I've gone absolutely gah-gah over producing bells. Now, when I took a good look at all the wax positives I've produced tonight I decided that I'd better draw the line somewhere or I'll be cutting off sprues and grinding metal until god-knows-when!

So, here are just some of those wax bells.



When I got home tonight I had ice cream (mmmm, deep chocolate) cookies and a banana.

One of the main benefits of being an adult is that I CAN eat ice cream if I want for dinner.

Yes, it is good to be me.

Hello Mom & Dad

I am sending this post out to my Mom and Dad who SHOULD be able to get onto my blog now that I have sent them the link.

There are lots of pictures posted on this blog if you just click on the various dates in the right column. O.K.?

My day started early today, at 7 a.m. I had to get to school for a painting crit at 9 a.m. The crit went well. My professor liked my current self-portrait (that's posted on the previous page to this.) The one before that one was based on my 1973 high school portrait, and I really didn't like the way it came out so I uh, sort of, covered it over with the explanation that we really 'don't know who we are' in high school. I still believe that's true, but I really just didn't like the painting.

Anway, I'll be doing that self portrait over.

So, here's my day in a nut shell (very fitting for me):

1. up at 7 a.m.
2. sitting at painting crit at 9 a.m. (I left and they still hadn't gotten through everyone)
3. off to art history class
4. over to library to return an over due book (bad student) and pick up another I needed
5. back to painting studio to pick up coat and find out what the CAAP test that was mentioned in an e mail was all about
6. found out the CAAP test is some kind of test that measures the school's teaching standards (doesn't effect GPA)
7. left painting studio and went home for lunch (huge salad with all kind of stuff in it and a few hand fulls of Chex Mix)
8. went to foundry where I worked on wax bells until foundry meeting at 5 p.m.
9. Meeting lasted until 5:45
10. Went to library to pick up a couple of books for research
11. went home for a delicious chicken, strings beans and garlic mashed potatoes dinner (courtesy of George)
12. ran back out to the ATM to get money for tomorrow
13. here I am at the PC
. . .right now I should be reading my research books but. . . .I am not. . .oh well, it's time for me to send a groveling e mail to my foundry professor to see if I can get her to have an additional metal pour on this coming Wednesday.

Coney Island bell rings again after a century

Coney Island bell rings again after a century

I just thought I'd post this interesting little ditty about a bell. . . .Dreamland was a Coney Island amusement park, and it's bell survived a watery grave. It's hard to destroy bronze.

11:55 p.m. Saturday night Party!

O.K., so I'm lying.

I just got home from the foundry where I made a shit-load of little wax (I mean little, as in two inches long and under) positives which I'll mess with further and make into jewelry castings ostensibly to sell because I need money.

Well, we all need money but I'm especially in need . . . or maybe I just think I am.

And, there it is, I think too much!

I had a painting crit on Friday night that was disappointing. My professor just hated that I mostly covered over my 1973 high school portrait. I thought it was kind of neat myself and a statement about how we don't really know ourselves in high school.

He also didn't like my current self-portrait with the 3-D glasses which I also felt was cool. I think he didn't like the fact that I had covered up my eyes. He actually asked me if I was covering up bad painting (underneath). I put the 3-D glasses on the portrait because I had just gotten through a rough patch (thanks to a Doc who prescribed meds that almost sent me off the edge of sanity) and I wanted the portrait to reflect the spacey time I had just been through. Here is it, in all it's glory (or is that gory?)



I have to remind myself of what I always tell the other students; "It's only his opinion."

And, we all know about opinions, don't we?

Paint, paint, paint

When all else in my world feels wonky I can still paint!

I don't know, I just felt like typing that.

I'm at home, monkey in the middle as usual, between my two sleeping cats in my small home studio.

We (the imperial college we) just had a few days off and I've been home cleaning, putting plastic up on windows, calling about bills, (ugh!) calling Apple to get my wireless mouse replaced, (it's not scrolling up and down) doing laundry, sleeping, and just plain eating too much.

What I have accomplished though, is a really cool acrylic and water color painting and some study toward my final (ah yes, the final academic class of my college career) presentation due sometime next month. Come to think of that, I'd better get the date pretty well straight in my head. . .calendar, calendar, calendar.

So, tomorrow it's back to school (my one scheduled class this semester) and then off to studio to touch up some existing stuff and bring in some new . . . .and, it's off to bed with me any minute now.

G'night.

Two Cat Night

Back in the early 1970s there was a rock group called, Three Dog Night (and I, young and clueless as I was, had the hots for Chuck Negron, the lead singer.) The rock-n-roll mythology is that they took their name from a phrase used by shepherds used to describe the coldest nights they spent in the pastures. O.K., so back in the 70s they had a strange way of picking band names. I guess that hasn't changed much.

Anyway, back to the 'three dog night' thing. So, the coldest night was a 'three dog night' when they would need to have three dogs huddled around for warmth.

So, why am I writing this?

Because my mind is twisted and I'm sitting between my two cats as I write this. so, it's not that cold. Only two cats worth of cold. Yes, I know, lame.

While I'm spinning off into the 1970s, I might as well tell you my nightmare teeny bopper story. It will be good for a laugh if nothing else.

At the time of this particularly earth shattering event, I'm in junior high school and there is a theatre in the next town, (Port Chester, New York) called the Capitol Theatre. The Capitol theatre was an old movie theatre built in the golden age of Hollywood (the 1930s).

By the time the 1970s rolled around the building was in disrepair, and it's once lovely interior (decorated in gold-leaf and cherubs) is now painted a bright day-glo pink. Some of the original stage seats are there and the rest have been replaced by wooden bleachers (not to comfortable, but my back was much more forgiving then.)

Somehow, my friend (Joan Brabender-if you are out there reading this, forgive me) and I end up getting tickets to the performance. I'm searching my memory, but somehow I can't seem to remember how we did that, but I know it was a sneaky thing because our parents just wouldn't have let us go to one of those 'hippy places.'

So, there we were, two little teeny boppers sitting in orchestra seats, and we were in heaven and feeling very cool.

In my memory (which I never trust because it's so faulty) we are sitting in our seats enjoying ourselves when, low and behold, there comes Mrs. Brabender down the aisle of the theatre in her bathrobe and curlers looking absolutely middle-class, uncool, and fiercer than a rabid dog.

She was apparently not pleased that we were in attendance at this event.

I remember being promptly ejected from my seat and ushered out of the building embarrassed, distressed and definately NOT feeling cool. As for what happened next I also have no memory, but it couldn't have been that bad because here I am, living to write about it.

I haven't been posting for a few days so I though I should get back at it.

In the last few days I haven't accomplished much. I can't tell you why. But, I have made about fifteen little clay models for pendants that will (hopefully) eventually be cast in bronze.

We've got what the school is calling a 'mini' break. Yes, I'd say it's mini (four days worth, counting the week end.)

We go back to classes on Wednesday.

Here are the little clay positives I made for casting (eventually) in bronze.



I tried to upload these the other night and they wouldn't work. I dunno . . . .

Hump Day

Where exactly is the hump? I have always hated that expression, by the way. I guess because it brings back such 'happy memories' of my corporate life.

Well, it wasn't all bad. It was a way to make a living (and have health insurance.)

So, today was the last of the series of art history classes this week. Fortunately, we watched a film. Film, no pop corn, oh, and heat in the building. Some genius decided that the heat needed to be off so they could repair it. During the semester? I dunno. . . . hey, it's college . . .

So, today I got some of my casting supplies and I am psyched to go on that.

I've been working on some clay models so I can cast tons of wax positives to go in the burn out over to make molds. I guess I'm thinking too commercial for art school, but then I need to make money (who doesn't?) and I thing that bronze jewelry might just be something that I can sell and people might actually buy.

I'm thinking of a business name. . . .how about, Bronze Goddess? Ah, it's late and I'm tired so what do you want?

Here is the latest iteration of my self portrait. Since the last couple of weeks have been a kind of a hairy ride for me I thought I'd have some fun with it.



Do you like my 3-D glasses?

I was going to post some pics of pendants and earrings I've been working on in clay that will be cast in bronze in the next week or two. But, I can't get my picture to upload. Apparently, this is not a problem with my system but with eBlogger.

So, get it fixed, will ya?

Beezer is purring loudly next to me which means I'd better get to bed now.

Return To(from) 3-D

It's been a rollicking few days and I feel as if I've returned from the flat-land to the mountains.

To sum it all up: I went temporarily crazy thanks to a physician who felt it was in my best interests to change chemical horses in mid-stream.

For those of you not acquainted with 'better living through chemistry' I'm a one of the many people who will actually admit that I take an anti-depressant and have for years. Like many situations in my life, I can finally admit the booger in my nose that's been irritating me for years.

So there! I've gotten that off my chest.

Now that I'm back on the beam, I'll post a couple of pictures of what I've been up to.

Quite frankly, I'm sick of looking at my tits on canvas (if you've been following this blog you know that I did a nude portrait, just my torso) and would like to be done with that so I can move one. But, there's only one glitch right now. Some genius in maintenance decided it was time to repair the steam (heating) valves in the painting studio. So, I've had to rearrange my space so they can get to the heating unit that just happens to be in my studio space.

That's O.K., because actually, it couldn't have happened at a better time. This gives me a chance to work at the foundry more on wax models for my jewelry and to do some more research for my art history project.

Everything is working out according to plan. Of course, it's not my plan, but then why should I complain?

The next two pics you will see are the one self-portrait (based on my 1973 high school picture) and a bronze pendant I am still working on.

Fried-day

Again I find myself sitting at my beloved MAC at home between two cats (the one to my left is purring, the one to my right is silently waiting-for dinner.)

And, I, the imperial I, need to produce art work for my studios. And to that end, I found my self, bright and uncharacteristically early, at the foundry at 8 a.m. getting my ceramic shell molds ready for a burn out. So, I learned a few new things today.

Since, in previous trips to the foundry, I've been a wimp and let other people do the burn outs for me, today (with only three other people in the foundry besides the Professor and me) I got to actually load the molds into the flash furnace, crank the molds up into the thing, rake the wax out when it burns out of the molds and patch up the spots that needed patching. I also learned that I should not forget to put the final coat of slurry on the ceramic shell because without it, it's terribly brittle and prone to flaking off and cracking.

So, my first minor heartbreak of the day was that as I was walking one of my molds off to the sand pit to place it in prior to pouring I dropped it on the cement floor and most of it was destroyed. I'm surprised that I didn't get that upset, but then by now I've learned the one rule of art creation: don't love your work too much because it will break your heart! This is especially the rule when working in glass (something I don't do anymore.)

After the foundry, I made my way to the painting studio where I put another coat of black over one of my previous square canvases. It'll be the background for the next piece.

I think, for tonight anyway, I'm going to work at home as soon as I take a nice, long bath. . . .ah, the joys of having a whirlpool tub!

Tuesday. . . .WTF

It's Tuesday, September 29, 2010 and I am sitting in my (at home) studio with Tai-tai (my little black boy-cat) purring next to me in the chair. I wish I could feel as contented and secure as he does tonight.

Things are not always easy for a middle-aged woman in art school. First of all, I feel like I'm trudging through oatmeal a lot of the time. But, art work usually takes my mind off my quickly failing body and slowly unraveling mind.

What? Am I actually having a personal crises? WTF?

I got nothing accomplished today except for attending my art history class and dipping my wax positives in ceramic shell. I still need two more coats of the lovely icky, phosphorescent green coating, then two more coats of stucco. At that point they should be ready for the burn out furnace (where the wax gets burned out leaving a shell for the pouring of the molten metal.)

On Friday we do a metal pour. So bronze should be put into them then. At least that will get done this week.

And, after my last art history class of the week (tomorrow), I should get my little butt off to the painting studio.

I'll be starting the 'torn' series this week, or maybe the second installment of the 'interstices' series. Either way, those seem to be life defining terms.

Monday-not done but I'm posting anyway

I promised myself that I would no longer gulp down my lunch (yes, I know, it's 2:45 p.m.) salad like a milkshake than suffer the digestive repercussions later. I don't know if I'm going to live up to the promise since I seem to be doing everything in hyper-mode this last week.

Today, so far:

Art History class, which consisted of a slide presentation by the Professor on the masking traditions of Oceania. Some of this stuff I've seen already (Freshman and Sophomore years) but some of it was new, kind of humorous, and from my tweaked perspective very and interesting.

Of particular note, was the presentation on the Abalam people (I've probably got the name wrong) but, anyway, the men of this culture pride themselves on the growing of yams. In fact, they grow them so long (some much longer than the actual length of the men that grow them) that they dress them up in temples and worship them as anscestors or spirits.

Needless to say, this brings my whole belief that men (even in our so-called civilized culture) worship and revere things that are longer than they are wide.

Take for instance the Corvette or the Testarosa (my pet name for this car was the Testosterone) or most any sports car of world renown.

Untold numbers of men in our culture spend a large amount of time on the care and maintenance of their automobiles. When I was married, I once accused my ex-husband of spending more time rubbing the body of the car than he did mine.

But then, I wouldn't brake on command.

O.K., so I'm back now in the present time, or as Eckhart Tolle would call it, the eternal now.

The rest of the eternal now was spent in the painting studio where I have determined that at this point in my career I really suck at trying to attain a likeness of the same face I have looked at in the mirror for lo these fifty some-odd years. That should get better with time and practice (and, some patience on my part.)

After a bit of a frustrating time in the painting studio, I headed circuitously back home via the foundry where I stopped to add yet another coat to my toxic ceramic shell so it can be ready for a bronze pour sometime this week.

I'm home now, with a salad on one side of me as I type and a cat on the other side purring. There is nothing in this world as centering for me as the sound of a cat contentedly purring while I type away on this almost noiseless pad.

As soon as I clean up my garlic layden, sprout encrusted plate,I'll be off to the UPS store to return an impulse buy that I really don't need.

Perhaps I shall (and perhaps I shan't) type more later.

Peeved, Pooped and post-menapausal

Today: Seven hours at the foundry next to the wax pot (my absolute favorite place to be.)

I don't know why I do this to myself. These are the choices on this life quiz:

A. I need to produce work to get a grade
B. I'm a responsible grown adult
C. It is my choice to attend college
D. Despite numerous 'personal crises' I am still producing work
E. I am totally insane
F. None of the above

And, the winner is, (honestly) C, even though at times I have heard other students (of a much younger age) proclaim choice D and I frequently feel like I'm (insert choice E.)

Which is, of course, the subject of tonight's pet Peeve (with a capitol P.)

I've heard several times, in the last few weeks, about students who've been unable to make it to the studio to produce work because they were having a, (insert choice D from the life quiz, above) 'personal crises.'

So what, I want to know, exactly is a personal crises?

Is it different than say, an impersonal crises (which would mean, of course, that it is happening to someone else and doesn't effect me personally.)

The one time when I've actually inquired as to the nature of the other student's 'personal crises' (feigning actual compassion) the answer I've received was usually in the nature of boy/man problems.

If you'd like to know my advice about the vicissitudes of relationships you'll have to meander back to my September 6th post. There, I reveal previously unculled pearls of wisdom from the dawn of time.

So, looping back to the main theme of this diatribe: Peeved.

Yesterday, I heard, yet again that another one of my fellow students was having difficulty finishing a painting because of this common twenty-something malady.

And, momentarily (only momentarily), I sort of blew my usually (ha!) detached, in my-own-studio-corner-stance and told the other student that the, "world will not wait for your heart break." Not only will it not wait for your heartbreak, it was also not wait for your back ache (the second part I didn't actually say, but I felt it-in my back.)

Ah yes, I remember the days of pain, suffering and torment, (and this was only in my thirties) rising out of my dark bed, driving through the blinding snow for over an hour only to be greeted by grumbling, half-conscious corporate droans . . . wait, where am I going with this?

What I am hinting at is that daunting, dirty word; responsibility. Or, rather the lack thereof. There, I've said it in soon to be arcane language (since the English language as we now know it is swiftly going into the toilet.)

Now, I can put on my depends and be out of here with the rest of the old farts in the room.

Tomorrow I'll be painting so that should help adjust my attitude.

Goodnight nurse.

I am NOT Ironman 9 (or woman)

So, it's Fried-day night. And, I'm pooped.

Today I spent four hours (I'm not complaining) in the studio painting.

Here are the results of my labors:



Remember, these are 'works in progress' and, now that I look at them they really need a bit more work. It's very helpful to take pictures as I go along then I can see what needs to be worked on from a more objective eye.

Sorry there's not much written here tonight. It's all I've got.

G'night.

Thursday P.M., and I insane?

That's when my day 'officially' started today, at 2 p.m. when I got my ass out of bed.

O.K., so that's not too good if I want to get anything substantial done in the studio, but that's really great if you're one of my cats and you just want to snuggle in bed.

But, I digress (something I do quite well, actually.)

I DID get three solid hours of painting done tonight. I'm still working on my three self-portraits and I'm going to continue exploring the mapping of my body tomorrow. Why not? I'm paying them for the privilege of painting so I'm going to paint what ever I want. Besides, I've got a lot of life material to work from.

I get a big kick out of the other students in my class who are waxing nostalgic on the 1950s (an era they never actually lived through.) They must believe 'things' (that is, life) was really better back then, in a 'simpler' time (you know, before iPods and Facebook and the internet, when people actually waited to communicate with one another or used ancient technology like the telephone.)

I could go on for a long time about nostalgia; the longing for things that are irreplaceable.

But were things really that good?

Back in the 1950s people died from cancer at an appallingly higher rate then they do now, the majority of women had a much more narrow career choice path, children lived under the constant threat of nuclear annialation, (remember the drills in grammar school when they lined us up against the walls of the basement preparing for an attack?) we played on metal jungle gyms over cement pads, didn't own bicycle helmets, and, doctors touted the benefits of smoking and drinking in the popular magazines and newspapers of the era.

How did humanity ever survive, let alone the child born in the good old 1950s?

So, things are insane in the world right now (and apparently in my head) because I am, despite all the common-sense notions of what a middle-aged woman 'should' be doing with her life right now, going to art school to get a BFA.

Do I trust that everything will turn out alright? I don't know tonight, but I do know that if I hadn't done this thing (attend college in my 50s) it would turn out to be one of my greatest regrets when I draw (I love that I get to use that word) my last breath on the planet.

So, as Walter Cronkite once said, "And that's the way it is."

Wax On - Wax Off

I ended my day at my most favorite of places; the wax working room at the foundry.

I was a bit frustrated because I couldn't get my wax bell-bowl sprued up to be put in shell and cast. I got my bracelet, the double-sided bell, and, a pendant that I popped out tonight attached up. I'll be back at the good old wax pot tomorrow morning getting everything (hopefully) ready for a bronze pour on Friday morning.

I had three (count 'em) three painting crits today. I survived completely through the first two individual crits but ran out of gas about 2 p.m. during the group crit (those can last so long that they can be absolutely painful) and I just had to run home and make myself a nice, big salad and some corn muffins. Man, that was good!

Both of my painting crits were very meaningful for me today. I felt a lot of validation for what I'm pursuing in paint. I thought I'd be painting a lot of vegetal things this year but I've ended up, instead, painting some self portraits.

It's interesting to note physical, as well as emotional and spiritual changes over time.

There have been a couple of times when I'm walking along and suddenly I'll see a piece of gray hair hanging down in my periferal vision, and then I'll realize, it's me! I'm the gray-haired person in my life, and it's a shock. Has this ever happened to you?

I've posted various of the three painting in progress, and I'll continue to do that, and not let my head get ahead (pardon the pun) of me. Things work much better for me when I manage to stay where I am.

A wise woman once said that a woman should paint her toenails red and then look down at her feet to remind herself of where she is. And sometimes I need to take that advice and use it on myself.

The weather was beautiful up here again today, except for a little rain storm in the afternoon. I don't know why, (and I'm not complaining) but I just love when it rains and there's a patch of sun streaming through the clouds.

So, there it is, the banal and the sublime in one short little posting.

Life is good.

Zombies and Flaming Pubic Hair-Art School

The young student that shares my painting studio space at school has a zombie obsession. Apparently, it's pretty popular with college-age people. At least that's what another student (who actually has 'normal' conversations with me) tells me.

So, along side my self-portraits there is a collection of zombie paintings and paintings of young girls (my studio mate's girlfriends) obviously taken with a camera, at extremely close proximity and curiously angled.

So, all these beautiful, young, Gothed-out faces stare back across the table set between us at my two self portraits and one torso (with 'flaming' pubic hair.)

Hey, so who am I to criticize zombie paintings?

It's art school and the body is beautiful, and, I'm also an extremely cheap model. So, in the privacy of my own studio at home, I took some nudes of myself holding a broken old empty bird's next in front of my crotch. I guess subtlety in symbolism isn't one of my things.

Tomorrow I have three (count 'em) three crits, (art school lingo for critiques) one right after the other. So, by about 1 p.m. tomorrow my eyeballs should be filled with the latest art school images (whatever they end up being.)

I'm keeping it short tonight and including some shots of the foundry wax working area (including the infamous Primordial Ooze-Wax pot) and works in progress in my studio.



To the left of the wax pot in the above picture are three items that will be put onto the sprue and cup set up sitting on the table. The three items are a mold for a bracelet, a bell-bowl, and a double bell.

The next picture is of the wax pot itself. I thought it deserved it's own personal shot since it was the sight of my fishing expedition to find one half of a silicone mold that fell into the wax (and possibly the remains of Jimmy Hoffa.) Isn't it just lovely?



Next up, is the work in progress oil painting I'm calling 'empty nest.' As you can see my pubic hairs do appear to be on fire (which I actually find hilarious) a situation that has since been remedied by the application of some additional paint. Sorry, I haven't taken a picture yet because it's still a work in progress, and, I wanted to get home.



Finally, I'm posting a picture of one view out the window of my studio. As you can see the trees are beginning to burn (not unlike my crotch) with fall colors. The roof seen in the pictures is located over the outdoor kilns. Alfred U is the #1 ceramics school in the country.

And yes, I am studying painting here. Go figure.

Well then, now that I've updated you on the artistic highlights of my day I'm going to get my self all comfy and ready for bed.

As Scarlet O'Hara once said, "After all, tomorrow is another day." [Fade in theme from GWTW here.]

Sunday, soon to be Manic Monday

So, I have to get to bed and rest my lovely middle-aged arss (no, I didn't misspell that.)

Today started off painfully. I slept late because I can (my apologies to those of you that have young children.)

I decided that the first thing I should do (after the customary moaning and groaning upon getting out of bed) was to get into my 'day time' clothing so that I would not end up hanging around in my PJs all day.

After getting dressed, I looked out the kitchen window of the house and saw my neighbor (the farmer's wife-literally) picking raspberries in the back yard. I hadn't seen her in a while so I went out to chat and help her out (also, I love fresh raspberries.)

I ended up picking a pint of raspberries for myself. I also ended up eating half of the pint myself . . .snorf, snorf.

And no, once again, I didn't make it to the studio, but I did work on my presentation for Tuesday in Art History.

What does this all mean for my week? Well, let's see . . . .

Art History class tomorrow morning, followed by a brief trip to the painting studio, then (you know it) lunch, followed by my bi-monthly meeting at the foundry with my professor at 3 p.m. We'll be going over in work progress. I know I haven't done enough . .

I'm two thirds of the way through the presentation I have to do on Tuesday morning. I probably could have finished it tonight but I just couldn't get myself motivated to do it.

With my energy level so low and me in constant pain I'm having just a bit of a problem being motivated.

Happy Manic Monday. Since it's now after midnight I can truly say that.

So, off to bed with me and I'll report more tomorrow.

I'll post some pictures tomorrow night-I promise.

Post-Toast

So, I survived. I'm still feeling a bit crunchy around the edges but I haven't crumbled yet.

Were you worried?

It's now past 11 o'clock (p.m.) and I promised myself I'd post to this blog today.

Today I spent five or six hours in the foundry sitting around the wax pot doing God-knows-what.

Actually, I finished up my bell bowl, my double bell (two sides) and made a wax positive of a simple cuff bracelet I'm going to cast in bronze (as if I really needed another bracelet.) I just thought it would be a nice keepsake. So far, it's just unadorned and I think I'll leave it that way (at least for now.)

I'm also going to start putting together some kind of mobile. I don't know if it will work, but I'm giving it a shot.

I meant to take some picture of the groovy surroundings at the foundry. For a foundry it's actually a nice place. I mean, it's filthy dirty and it probably would absolutely 'scheeve' my mother but the wax room is a palace compared to the way it was last year.

Why am I telling you this?

I guess I've lowered my standards on a lot of things to get the artwork done baby!

At one time I paid to have my nails and toes done. Now I scrape the grubby brown modeling wax out from under the remnants of my nails with a left over cuticle scissor. And, I don't care!

Late this afternoon, when I got home from the pristine foundry, I was getting ready to sit down for dinner (George was just finishing it up-nice, eh?) and as the shafts of fleeting sunlight poured through the diningroom window I suddenly saw the most huge, dusty spider web connecting the old sewing machine in the corner with the wall. Euww!

So, what did I do?

Well, at first I inwardly shuttered at the decline of my domestic diva skills. Then, I gently wiped away the cobweb and sat down to space out and have dinner with my partner. This makes me think of a friend of mine named Ruth (who passed on a couple of years ago) who once (and, probably more than once) said, "I refuse to chase dirt around my entire life only to have it heaped on top of me when I die."

Thank you Ruth, for your wisdom and your friendship. I will never forget you, your spirit, or your pet pig, P.J. (another story for another time, I guess.)

Tonight I've finally gotten around to working on my Powerpoint presentation, work sheet and short paper for art history. The presentation is due on Tuesday (along with the paper and worksheet) and I don't usually wait this long to get things done, but oh well. . .

I guess I'm becoming a true senior-senior in that I can't wait until this last academic class is over and I can concentrate on my studios.

I thought I had my camera in here. I remember, (somewhere in the fog of two days ago) that I actually took a couple of pictures in the painting studio. But, I guess I left the bag with all the art stuff (mostly stuff to use in the foundry) in the car and I'm just too pooped right now to go out and get it.

On tomorrow's agenda:

1. Finish the %$* presentation and paper
2. Get to my painting studio