by Susan Lobb Porter | Beloved Beasties, Dogs |
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.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Food, Life |
Chocolate is calling to me. Not the good kind, the 88% full of anti-oxidents it’s-so-damn-healthy-you-can-eat-it-for-breakfast-and-you’re-happy-with-just-a-smidge-of-a-bit kind. Oh nooooooo, I’m hearing the seductive call of it’s evil twin, a well known brand of milk chocolate that tastes like…well, it tastes like my childhood. All sweet and sugary. Laden with fat and chock full of stuff that makes my inner nutritionist cringe. But that doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter at all because even if it glowed in the dark from radiation (and it might) what the hell…I WANT IT! And I WANT. IT. NOW!!!
I could eat a one pound bar All. By. Myself. In fact, I would go all ferrel and snap and snarl and growl threateningly at anyone who even looked at it, much less tried to take it away.
And after that, I would round out the day with potato chips. Salty yummy greasy crunchy chips. YAY!!! Let’s hear it for–
For what? Am I hungry? Umm…no. I just had lunch. A nice chicken tostada with extra guac and greens. To be perfectly honest (which I rarely am when it comes to food) there’s NO vacant real estate in belly land right now.
Then why do I feel the need to eat? Especially something loaded with sugar and fat and salt? Stuff that’s no good for me. That makes me hyper and tired all at the same time. That makes me look like I come from a long line of Sumo wrestlers.
WHY?
I’ll tell you why in a couple of minutes. But first go read a post I wrote back in February. Because even though I’m sounding desperate right now, I’m not. But I was back then.
Before I met AnaLisa Rutstein, MA CHHC. Before I took part in her Jump Start Program. Which was NOT a diet but six 45 minute one-on-one phone calls exploring and clarifying my issues around food. With handout and e-mail support.
That’s a whole lot of AHA! moments, believe me. A whole lot of getting back in touch with myself. Slowing down. Breathing. Meditating. Understanding the emotional triggers that send me scurrying to that bag of chips.
My emotional triggers? The biggest one…stress. But not stress like the car broke down or I had words with DearDaughter. The top hit on my personal Stress O’Meter…creativity. Or the insecurities I have surrounding my creative endeavors.
WTF??? Whack upside the head. My whole life is one big creative endeavor. Painting. Writing. Starting a biz…. No wonder my ass is so big.
Does this mean if I want to wear those skinny jeans again I’m going to chuck it all, get a 9-5 somewhere, a boring 9-5, and call it a day?
No. It means when I’m sitting at the computer searching for the exquisite turn of phrase, the perfect thing to say and I find myself getting all jittery and jumpy as a tweaker and I NEED to stuff my face with the bad bad bad bad BAD stuff so I don’t have to THINK…it means I now have the tools to deal with that. Tools like BEING AWARE of what I’m doing. And why I’m doing it. So I can redirect myself by breathing, by acknowledging the emotion, by any number of little MINDFUL diversions.
The chocolate up there? The stuff I really, really wanted? I had some. But not a lot. It was a choice I made consciously. I didn’t have nearly as much as I would’ve six weeks ago. And honestly? If you’d come by and wanted some, that’d be okay. I wouldn’t have gone all ferrel on you.
I might’ve even shared.
Change of subject: Whoo-hoo! Over here! Be sure to check out my new FaceBook page. There’s art. New art every day. Imagine that!!! And if you click the ‘like’ button at the top of the FB page I will like you forever and be your BFF. Because I likes me those ‘likes’. So go ahead, do that RIGHT NOW because you wouldn’t want to forget or anything, right?
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life, Studio |
It rained hard enough last night for the power to go out. Poured throughout the day today. Snow. Hail. Going to keep on going like that for another 24 hours.
Welcome to April.
When I came home from work tonight the first thing I did was check the studio. The new studio, Studio-Grande-under-construction. Even though the sky was opening up like some fanatical end-of-the-world-scenario, it was dry inside. DRY!!! Not a puddle in sight. No drips. No buckets. No horse shavings strewn around the floor to sop up the puddles.
It. Was. DRY.
Oh, what a difference a roof makes.
I went inside and savored it. Walked around feeling the space that for the first time did NOT include some reminder of the outdoors. A space that completely sheltered me from the elements. The air was cold but it wasn’t moving, wasn’t blowing in through cracks. The rain was on the other side of the windows. It smelled like lumber in there. And cold concrete, if there is such a smell.
Each phase of the construction has filled me with a sense of gratitude. Because this place is being created to honor my creativity. It’s my space to paint and spill and celebrate whatever it is inside me that HAS to make things.
And I’m so grateful for the love that’s gone into this place. For Mama, who left me the money to finance the construction. For Mr. Spouse, who also has the need to create and has taken this project beyond what I first envisioned.
This weekend we’ll put up the insulation. Weekend after that, the sheetrock. There’ll be cabinets to assemble, concrete countertops to pour. If all goes as planned, I’ll be in there in early June.
And I can’t wait! Got a business to get up and running. Painting. Teaching. Marketing. Letting my light shine.
It’s about time.
Speaking about business, be sure to check out my Facebook page, SLPorter, Mixed Media. I’ll be posting a little something there every day. Brief little bits of studio news, new art or something from my classes. Arty Life Lite. And if you like what you see, please do me a great big favor and click the ‘like’ button on the top of the page. I want to get more ‘likes’ than Coca-Cola. I only have 41.something million to go.
by Susan Lobb Porter | All things Chocolate, Life |
Warning: The post you are about to read was written under the influence of an unholy amount of sugar coursing through my veins. I am not responsible for a single offending thing I say in this post.
Or EVER, for that matter.
I’m writing this post on Easter Sunday. This is the most holy of days in the Christian calendar. On the O’Holy o’meter it’s OFF. THE. CHARTS. Which is why Christians everywhere engage in ritual sacrifice of rabbits and chickens on this most sacred of days. To celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.
What’s not to celebrate? I’d come back for chocolate too.
Pause here to bow your head and genuflect. Show some respect. Because those cute little critters down below… they’re about to have their HEADS EATEN OFF. And they haven’t a clue.
They are the innocents. Who. MUST. Die. For us.
Look at them. So…cheerful. So unsuspecting. Well, maybe not the bunny. Her smile looks rather forced to me. And WHAT is that she’s clutching? OMG! A little purse. She thinks she’s going shopping. Or to the movies. Oh, why doesn’t someone SAVE her??? Where is PETA (Confectionery division) when you need them? Where?
Because if someone doesn’t STOP ME, I will do what I was raised to do. WITH THE CHURCH’S BLESSING!!!
Starting with the ears. I will break them off her tiny little head with my bare hands. Just. Like. That. And then, as she watches (still smiling but it’s a horrified smile) I will BITE PEEP’S HEAD OFF. And. Swallow. It. Whole.
And then I’ll get back to Miss Bunny….
But I will spare you the details. It’s not a pretty sight but it MUST BE DONE. To honor new life. New beginnings. The glories of spring.
Unless you live in the southern hemisphere. Where Easter co-insides with the decent into the hell of winter. That REALLY sucks theologically, doesn’t it? You want my advice? Go eat a chocolate ‘roo. It’ll make you feel better. Maybe.
Change of topic:
Put a couple of albums of art up on my FaceBook page. It’s like an Arty Life Lite. Kind of. Come on over and check it out. And while you’re there, PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLUH-ESE click the ‘like’ button on the top of the page. ‘Cause that Zuckerberg kid said I could trade them in for a PONY when I get enough of ’em.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life, Parents |
Spent a lot of time in Studio Grande today. Painting. And cleaning the non-studio part of the cottage. The part where Mama lived. Amazing how art stuff can migrate from one room to another. Must do that at night when no one is looking.
And who the hell made all that mess anyway???
I’m not usually into cleaning. Not enough to interrupt a painting frenzy. But this week marks the first anniversary of Mama’s passing. ‘Passing’ being a euphemism for cashing in her one way ticket for Jesusland. I’m sure she’s quite happy there. What’s not to like? Lambies. Angels. Floating around with Daddy on a cloud, feeling no pain with all the heavenly libations.
But best of all, the millions and BILLIONS of souls who haven’t heard her stories yet. OMG, she’s in HEAVEN!
And this, the first anniversary of her passing over to the other side, falls on Passover. What a co-incidence! I mean, how fitting is that?
So I cleaned. Well, not really cleaned. I straightened things up, scooped the kitty poop out of the litter box. Fresh sheets on the bed. That sort of thing. Got some family coming in for the anniversary. We’ll talk about Mama. Have a nice dinner. Eat some chocolate.
I’ll tell you all about it on Monday. Or not.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life |
This weekend I learned a valuable lesson. I learned to paint like Matthew. He’s one of my students and you can read about him here. Go ahead. Read all about him. You need to do it to understand what I’m going to say. Do it now, I’ll wait.
CAN YOU STAND THAT SMILE??? OMG, I get PAID to hang out with him. Little emoticon hearts here. Lots if I knew how.
And by the way, that wonderful art program is a non-profit agency. Always strapped. Just sayin’…in case that smile made your give o’meter start ticking.
Now back to my weekend. I had the itch. And the only cure was STUDIO TIME. I needed to paint SO MUCH that I willingly braved rain and snow and a wind so fierce trees and birds were falling out of the sky.
I HAD to do it. There was a big canvas calling my name. And when a canvas speaks, it’s best to listen.
This one was 40×40, that’s inches for my Aussie friends. I’d done a number of layers on it a week or so ago. I didn’t have a plan, just knew it was time to add some definition. So I did.
Now, about painting like Matthew…I hooked my laptop to some speakers. Opened up the R&B folder in iTunes. Cranked up the volume ’till the walls shook.
I danced like no one was watching.
I sang like no one was listening.
And I painted like no one was home…
I. Did. NOT. Think.
The bird up above? He just evolved. As did the other shapes.
Evolved into this. Which is still a work in progress. Very much so.
My ego began kicking in around the same time the light got bad. Figured it was time to call it a day. Don’t know if I’ll be able to get back to it until next weekend. The night lighting in Studio Grande sucks. Ahhh, but the soon-to-be-new-Studio-Grande will have lighting conducive to working all through the night…if I’m ever so inclined.
So after a day of music and painting I curled up on the sofa with Mr. Spouse and a couple of dogs. Basketball. March madness. The Final Four playoff. He was very much into the game. And I was very much into the players. Umm…hmm… Sweaty young men…great shoulders…. What’s not to like?
