Holy crap…went to bed last night all tucked up in my flannel sheets and when I woke up IT WAS SPRING!!! Sun shining. Birds singing. Felt so good I went for a RUN first thing.
I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve gone for a run. And I didn’t go very far before I realized I was suckin’ pollen into my lungs like a cowboy and his Marlboros. So I cut it short but not before getting enough endorphins to be insufferably perky for most of the day.
In fact it felt so good I decided to wear lime green. LIME GREEN. Which does nothing to hide the muffin top. And I DID NOT CARE. Because I felt so gooooooood.
Spring is lasting until the weekend when it suddenly becomes SUMMER. Supposed to be in the 80s. I don’t think it hit 80 last year until July. Late July. So no studio time tonight. No art until Precious Man Dog gets a haircut.
If only I knew where the scissors were.
Somewhere under all that hair is a dog. And he’s hot. But he knows when I’m thinking about cutting that mop. And he does everything to get out of it.
See what I mean? First the glare….
Then the dead ‘gator roll over.
Finally…resignation. The last photo while wearing his winter coat.
Come back Monday to see what a maniac I am with scissors.
I’m sitting here listening to the weather. Not the weather report, the weather. The real deal. The sound of rain blowing through the pines. Beating against the widows. Spilling over the gutter onto the patio.
The sounds of winter when it’s not quite cold enough to snow. The sound that will keep the pastures alive this summer. That will help the trees retain some moisture during fire season.
I’ve been listening to for days. It’s the most beautiful music, especially coming so late in the driest of dry winters.
That, my friends, is the number one thing I give thanks for this week.
Although the roof over my head and the fire in the wood stove are a close second. Creature comforts are a good thing.
Speaking about creatures and their comforts, it a wet world outside these days. There’s standing water everywhere. Puddles and mud. Puddles and mud. The ponies are hanging out in what I call the barn but it’s really a three sided shed that keeps them high and dry and out of the wind. They can go in and out as they please. When the weather is…weather, I make sure they have a nice fluffy bed of shavings to keep them warm.
And no one appreciates that more than my boy, Saki, AKA Pony-My-Heart. The sight of Mom lugging a bag of shavings through the mud gets him all aquiver. He’s all over me as I slice open the plastic. Nuzzles the bag. Pawing impatiently. Making excited little noises deep in his throat. Can barely contain himself as I dump the shavings onto the mat. And then he’s down on his knees, over on his back. Grunting and groaning and rolling like he’s the happiest boy on the planet. And for a couple of minutes I think he is.
The wind is picking up right now, driving the rain against the roof. It’s a comforting sound. In a few minutes I’ll climb into bed. We always sleep with a bedroom window open, no matter what the weather. I’ll snuggle under the covers. The rain and wind will sound like I’m right there. Outside, in the thick of it. Like a lullabye it will lull me to sleep.
Lots of time in the studio today. Made some progress on a couple layered canvases. These are works-in-progress, far from finished but I thought you might like to see the progression of one of them.
The horse was the first thing to pop out in this piece and then all inspiration s.t.o.p.p.e.d. So I put it away for awhile. I wasn’t thrilled with the lack of movement in Mr. Pony. And confused by my need to put a face in there. My literal mind was going umm…this doesn’t work.
And then I looked at it today and saw a sleeper. A dreamer…But there was one problem. A BIG one. Ponies don’t stand around in dreams. They RUN. And they run FAST.
So I was BOLD. And BRUTAL. I dispatched Mr. Pony. Just like that. Took my brush and cut him into three ponies. Action. Energy. Ponies worth dreaming about. And then I claimed another from the area above her head. Because I could.
Got a ways to go with this but if life doesn’t get too much in the way I might finish her this weekend. We have a solid week of winter weather rolling in beginning Sunday. YAY! That’s great. We need it.
But it also means I’ve got to spend some hours down in the barn, spoiling my real life ponies with fluffy dry beds. And when the storm comes, I will dream easy, knowing that they are dry and warm.
This one was photographed in natural light and is closer to the right color than the one from yesterday. Maybe it’s somewhere in between the two. There will be some glazes but other than that I think this one is done.
Now…studio news. Mr. Spouse spent a good deal of the weekend walking around the roof. Hammering and sawing. Getting ready for Mr. Bob who will install the skylights this week. I helped by keeping out of his way. At his request. We make a good team, Mr. Spouse and I. A good team.
Next weekend it’s the roof.
Here’s an interior shot. Stuff going on, wires. Gas pipe. Nothing dramatic as far as photos go…but necessary boringness.
Worked all day doing technical computer stuff. Which means I sat on my butt. And stuffed my face with salty things. I got up from time to time like they say you’re supposed to. You know, stretch. Run a mile. Walk ten feet to the kitchen counter and snag more Cheezits.
Well, one outta three isn’t bad. Depending on which one.
So when five o’clock came around I was more than ready to head down to the studio and shake some things up. Like my jiggley parts. I put on my newest CD from Putumayo, African Beat. And then I followed that with some Anderson Family Bluegrass. Because my taste in music is as eclectic as my taste in junk food. If it’s in front of me I’ll either listen to it, eat it…or paint it.
This time I got two outta three. And they were good for me.
Here’s the Anderson kids. They’re local, even though this was recorded in Nashville. I’m into plugging the local talent.
Speaking of local talent, I’ll show you what I did tonight. Oh, it’s very much a work in progress but if you’ve been wondering every time I show you another canvas loaded with layers WHAT is she going to DO with that thing…and I wouldn’t blame you for questioning that because, quite frankly, so was I…well, tonight I just grabbed one of the 2X2 background canvases and had at it.
This is what it was when I began.
I turned it every which way. Squinted. Danced around with a paintbrush in my hand and discovered…ponies! Somewhere on the canvas was a mark that told me horses live here. Even as I drew them I continued rotating the canvas. So they’re every which way. Upside down. Backwards.
But it was confusing with all the energy bouncing off that canvas. Ponies everywhere. Dots. Squiggles. Lines. I needed to block in some areas of c.a.l.m.
I began blocking out some background areas. This is where I started getting a feel for the composition and the style of the horses.
This is where I left it tonight. I changed out some of the original horses and will no doubt change out one or two more before it’s done. This is still early days, maybe 50% finished. Maybe 40. Really, I. Don’t. Know. And I won’t know until I get there.
So that’s how I spent my Wednesday. Not much studio time but enough to go to bed feeling like I accomplished something. And I always sleep better when that happens.
Sophie and Bean are Malitpoos, a cross between Maltese and Poodle. They grow hair like Rapunsel. Grows and grows until someone cuts it off. Usually me. Because a groomer takes one look at them and puts the clippers on ‘scalp’. Just wack it off down to the skin. Poor babies look like rotisserie chickens for a couple of weeks, until a little growth comes in.
But the groomers don’t really have a choice. My best beloved puppies tend to get a wee bit matted. Think steel wool…and that’s Bean’s hair. Curly steel wool. Sophie’s coat is deceptively soft and wavy. But it’s just as rowdy as her brother’s.
Both of them are like velcro. And since we live in the forest and they’re low to the ground…ah, keeping them groomed would be a full time job. They attract every twig, every burr, every pine needle on the trail. The ones that don’t come off on the furniture are like pearls, working their way deep into the coat, twisting the hair around until another dreadlock is formed.
By this time of year the coats are pretty long. Not a bad thing if it was winter. But winter hasn’t happened this year. So Sophie got a hair cut. It was only logical. She was sitting on my lap, the scissors were handy. Fate. Whatever. Sophie has a new ‘doo, except for her face. And one or two of her legs. Face has to wait until I can find the blunt edge scissors. Legs have to wait until we’re both in the mood.
This is what I got off her. Oh? Just dog hair. What’s the big deal?
Got enough hair to make another dog! That’s the big deal.
Really, look at that! But it won’t play!
Next comes the face. Someday.
Bean knows he’s next. Not now, but soon. He’ll keep his distance for a little while.
