Thoughts...

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my art, my life, my blog, and all the aspects of creative expression that I try to juggle. At the risk of repeating myself, (because after 5 years of blog posts, it's pretty likely), I am observing a regular ebb and flow to all that I do. Sometimes the ideas flow like water, easily and clearly. And at other times, they seem just beyond my grasp. Some days are simple and relaxed, while others seem frantic and crazy, but when I step back and take a look at the whole of it, there's a pattern that makes sense to me.
Ironically, I sometimes panic a little over the fact there is nothing to panic over. Does that make any sense? My days are not always perfect, but my life fits me lately in a way that it never has before. And I am so unaccustomed to this feeling. It is uncomfortable to feel comfortable...but what a great dilemma to have.
Wow -- I was about to follow that last paragraph with the admission that I have strayed from my "one word" intention this year, because I couldn't even remember what it was, so I just looked it up from my end of Dec. blog post, and it was the word "authentic." How crazy is that? Even without consciously thinking of this word, it has been working for me all this time.

Sing it Tammy!

My D-I-V-O-R-C-E became final today (actually yesterday!!)

My divorce is official! The long-awaited paperwork with the official red seal arrived in the mail last evening! And per the New York State Supreme Court, I "may resume use of my premarital surname."

I want to thank you all for your notes of support, encouragement, and most of all, laughter. I am a very fortunate woman!!

Life and Loss

One movie line which has always resonated with me was from the 1994 movie "Wyatt Earp", where Wyatt's dad tells him "That's what life is all about: loss."

If you live long enough, you lose everything, and everyone.

That's something they don't teach you in school. If they did, it would put a damper on youthful enthusiasm.

If you are above the age of 40, you have developed some sense of mortality. The years begin running out very quickly.

I remember once when an elementary school friend's father died. None of us had the maturity to approach him and talk about what happened. I remember seeing him walking alone home from school, with a noticeable limp from some unknown injury.

Little did I know that a year later, my own father would die when I was only 9. I remember feeling very alone as all the adults gathered and spoke in hushed tones with muffled sobs. I remember my mother breaking down as she picked out a suit for him to wear to his grave.

It was the beginning of a long string of losses. Three of my grandparents were dead before I was born, and my remaining grandfather died when I was about 14. He only really spoke Polish so I never really got to know him. Several aunts and uncles also passed when I was young.

In 1994 my wife's parents were killed in a car wreck, a couple of months following the death of my mother.

And yesterday, we learned that my wife's brother-in-law has stage 3 colon cancer.

I'm not telling you this to elicit pity. On the contrary, I feel very lucky that I have made it to my 55th year without a single broken bone, a wound requiring stitches, or any serious illness. I'm a survivor in a world of loss.

So if you take one lesson from all the sadness found in the average human life, it's to enjoy it while you can. If you always wanted to try nude recreation, do it. Maybe you wanted to take up painting, or catch up on some reading, or take that vacation you've been talking about for so long.

What are you waiting for?

Tags: nudism, naturism, nudist, nudists, naturist, naturists, nudity, nudes, bare, au naturel, nude, naked

Sweet decay...

gray days
a damp chill in the air
the smell of wet leaves
a barren tree silhouetted against a cloudy sky
a gust of wind that sends the last leaves dancing across my lawn
a myriad of browns where once there was color

I love not just the bright, colorful majesty of early fall, but the fragile beauty of decay as autumn exhales its last sweet breath to old man winter.

I get by...

...with a little help from my friends.

I am not good at asking for help, but this year, as a newly single bill-payer and homeowner, I've had to humble myself to do so several times, and I've learned something that should have been completely obvious. People like to help. They want to to help. It feels good to help someone -- I know this. I feel good when I help someone else, so why have I been so reluctant to ask for help when I need it? Simply put, I am guilty of pride. I pride myself on being able to do it all, but the fact is that I can't do it all. Sometimes I need help. And that doesn't make me less of a person. In fact, it makes me feel so fortunate that I am surrounded by so many people who care.

A few weeks ago, I had a mattress and boxspring delivered by two enormous men in need of a good dental plan. They were a jovial pair, grinning unself-consciously in spite of the fact that they didn't have a full set of teeth between them, and they were quite graceful given their girth, as they maneuvered the mattress and boxspring into my bedroom. Unfortunately, the weight of a heavy boxspring and two three-hundred pound men (I'm guessing) took it's toll on the stairs leading off my deck, and they collapsed. In the tradition of my mother, I "fixed" my stairs with a combination of bricks and wooden shims, camouflaged with flower pots, but I knew this was a sad and temporary solution. I really needed to get the stairs repaired.

So I asked one of my neighbors and fellow dog-walkers who is now retired and has been busying himself with handyman work. And of course, he was happy to help. The very next morning - before 9 am (on a weekend!) he arrived with tools in hand and whistled his way through the job in about an hour, refusing to take payment (which was a relief, because I didn't have any money to pay him either!!! :>)

So now I will leave you with a digital collage I just made(above). I started with the picture of daisies taken on my friend Debbie's farm (rotated sideways) and transformed it in Photoshop.

A simply perfect day making art with friends...

My dear friend Marilyn invited me, along with my other dear friend Laura, to her house for a day of art, lunch and conversation last Friday, and it was just what I needed. I've really been in an artistic funk this summer, and there's nothing like being surrounded by enthusiastic and artistic friends to motivate me. We began with coffee and a leisurely visit in Marilyn's sun room, eventually retreated to her art studio and then enjoyed a scrumptious salad that was as much a work of art as Marilyn's inedible creations. There are wonderful touches of Marilyn and her art in every room of her home -- altered vintage birdhouses, distressed furniture pieces and great flea market finds among them.

Here is a glimpse of the technique that Marilyn taught us that day, which she calls "the big dark." She is currently teaching this class at the Albany Art Room, so I will not reveal the secrets of the technique here, but it was a truly fun and freeing way of painting, and I'll be playing with this technique again soon.

As most of my readers know, this summer has marked a time of transition and change for me, and I am still navigating it all. I feel a bit adrift at times, and I just haven't been able to create a lot of art lately. I am not pushing it, as I have found that forcing it never works. Instead, I am busying myself with my home, friends and family, and I fully expect the inspiration and art will return in their own good time. When I tell friends and other artists about my dilemma, the feedback is interesting. Some find that periods of change and stress help their art -- it's a place for them to escape to. This makes sense to me, but it's unfortunately not the way I am wired. I can't seem to "get lost in my art" when my brain is working furiously about too many other things.

But this day spent with friends reminds me that even though I have lost my way a little and am adjusting to new routines, I still love creating, and I'll find my way back to it.

The wedding platter - part 2

Several readers have expressed interest in actually SEEING the wedding platter, and one expressed some concern that the gift-giver might see my story. Fortunately, the giver of this gift (on my soon to be ex-husband's side of the aisle), is not much of a computer user. In spite of how dreadful this gift was, I would never have posted the story if I thought she might see it and recognize herself. In fact, she is a woman possessed of such (misplaced) confidence in her sense of style that even knowing she had given us a Lefton wedding platter, I am sure she would not suspect it was her gift I was writing about. (hear strains of Carly Simon's "You're so Vain).

In truth, I wanted to post a photo, but I left the wedding platter at my sister's -- and that's PART 2. Last Halloween when my sister left her house to take my niece trick-or-treating, she decided to use the honor system for giving out candy, and she left her candy on the front steps in a very nice stainless steel bowl. When she returned, the candy -- and the bowl -- were gone. So this year, my other sister, upon hearing the story of the wedding platter, suggested it would make an excellent Halloween dish!! We can't wait to see if someone will take it once we demonstrate with tiny boxes of Raisinettes how useful it is.

In the meantime, I did several google searches to see if I could find the same platter pictured online, but it seems to be a one of a kind! This platter is much prettier, for example.

"I'm looking for broken watches..."

"...and broken clocks."
That was the first inquiry from and older gentleman who was our first visitor on Saturday morning at 8:15 am -- 45 minutes before the sale officially began. At nine on the dot, a second older gentleman -- Rudy -- asked the same question. I told him that he was the second man to ask about broken watches, and he shook his fist and exclaimed, "Bob! He always beats me to these sales!" My brother-in-law commented that he never considered selling broken things. I thought this was very telling of the times. Back when Rudy and Bob were young, people knew how to fix things, so a broken item still had value.

In spite of the fact that we advertised no earlybirds, we discovered this phrase really means "get here early or all the good stuff will be gone" to yard sale officianados. In fact, Bob, my first broken watch inquirer, was actually our second earlybird. The first was a woman who arrived 18 hours early, knocking on my sister's door on Friday afternoon, desperate to find a pocket book, jewelry, a bookcase, and little buddhas. She explained to me that she was going to be working all day Saturday, so she was hoping she could shop a day early. After I explained that we had not yet begun to sort and price things, and that I had no idea what my sister was selling, she tried to persuade me to let her stop back at 7 am the following morning on her way in to work. Since I foresaw (accurately) a late evening of wine, takeout chinese, and yard sale prep, I told her that 7 am was going to be much too early. Still, she continued to stand on my sister's porch, as though I was hiding the crown jewels inside. I could not get her to leave, so I asked if I could take her name (Lucia) and number, and promised to call her if I found any of the items she mentioned.

At around 8:30 on Friday evening, we finally sat down with aching backs, wine glasses and takeout when the doorbell rang. Lucia, the pocket book and buddha hunting earlybird, had now elevated her status to kinda scary yard sale stalker. She just happened to be picking her daughter up from karate lessons, and wondered if we'd had a chance to check on her items of interest. When I told her we had nothing she was looking for, she lingered on the steps for a rather awkward moment. I don't know what reasoning she was using to think that I would hide things that we clearly wanted to get rid of, but she seemed unconvinced as she (finally) got into her car and drove away.

After the initial rush of earlybirds, we had a steady stream of bargain hunters, including the woman in designer clothes who re-negotiated every sale, "Will you take $2 instead of $3?" ---And a local landscaper (Jeffrey) who, after piling up all his purchases, made himself comfortable in an old wing chair that was for sale, and filled me in on his entire life from college at SUNY Morrisville in the 70s, to his latest landscaping job, his need to lose 30 pounds, and his dad's recent death. He bought $40 worth of "stuff" but I think he just wanted someone to talk to. ---And the couple whose 40-plus daughter was having her first child, so they were buying all of the "baby's first" items that my sister never had the time to use for my niece.

Finally, it all ended with Celine, my sister's neighbor and great samaritan, who brought the remains to Goodwill, and meeting a needy family in the parking lot, gave them everything.

Oh, except for the wedding platter. I received a hideous piece of Lefton china as a wedding gift, which has remained in my attic in it's original box since 1989, and which I've attempted to sell (for $3) in the past three yard sales. After Celine left with a carload for Goodwill, we put 5 items at the end of my sister's driveway, marked "free." Four of the five items were furniture and toys that would not fit into Celine's car, and the fifth was the wedding platter, which was mysteriously left behind. One by one as the day wore on, we noticed that the remaining items were claimed. While my sister and I prepared dishes for a neighborhood barbecue that evening, my mom came inside and announced excitedly "Kerri, someone took the wedding platter!" It's gone, with the wooden chair. My sister and I exchanged a look, and I said, half kidding "They probably tossed the platter onto the lawn and just took the chair." One hour later, my brother-in-law confirmed that the wedding platter was sitting beside their mailbox, in a spot my mom apparently couldn't see. Some things you can't even give away!

I'm back, sort of...

As any of you who visit my blog know, it is as much about my life as it is about my art, and life is changing for me these days. Although I will not go into great detail, I do feel a need to share this, so that those of you who stop by will understand why my blog and my art have been a bit neglected lately. My husband and I recently decided to separate, and although we know it's the right decision, it was not one we reached lightly. I thank you all for the comments, friendships, and support that have made blogging such a wonderful experience for me, and as the dust settles and I am able once again to focus, I will be sharing stories of girls weekend and many other adventures in my art & life.

Bloom...

Everyone should have the opportunity... to bloom. stretch toward the sun. open, awaken, show your colors.

This post was nudged along by one of my sisters. She informed me that although my digital collage was great in the previous post, she was bored. I hadn't posted in awhile.

"Please, I know you have a lot going on, but your blog needs new material. I'm bored."

I have volumes to say, but my blog is not the forum for this topic at the moment, so I will leave you all with this painting -- hopefully the last in the "sad and doleful expressions" category. I think it was life, manifesting itself through art. My face, imposed on their faces...more later.

Take time to smell the roses...

...and to visit friends
...and to spend time with family
...and to notice nature
...and to live in the moment.

Time seems to be moving faster and faster these days, am I wrong? It seems like just yesterday I celebrated the new year, and now it's almost May. I am trying to spend this fleeting time more wisely and productively as I get older, and to appreciate all of the people that I am so fortunate to have in my life.

Thank you for visiting.
Nemaste

I want to be in control!

...and sometimes, I don't get to be, and when that happens, I get all discombobulated...and grumpy...and sometimes, downright mean (mostly to my husband)...who is the reason I am not in control. (this time).

I like to plan and organize and check things off of my list. I like it when things happen the way I expect them to. And while I know that control is an illusion, I live quite happily within that illusion much of the time, until life pulls the rug out from under me.

The events that transpired were not earth-shattering, and in many ways, the change of plans worked in my favor, so I was surprised to find myself floundering. Now what do I do? I actually had a weekend free that was not supposed to be. I should have used that time wisely to accomplish one of the dozens of other things on my list...but instead, I wandered and squandered the time I had -- because I couldn't change gears quickly.

Now I'm wondering if I've always been this way, or if it's because I'm not as flexible and easy-going as I was at 25. I welcome a change of pace and I am refreshed by new opportunities, but I like to plan them, and anticipate them. I don't want them thrust upon me. And that's a problem.

I am reminded of this quote:
"If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans."

I must keep him in stitches.

(Here's a little digital collage I made today, just for fun.)

My November Ta Da List

Wow. November came and went and I completely forgot my Ta Da List. This month has been busy with just about everything but art. I've discovered over the past couple of months that I'm doing a lot of reading and less of other things. While reading fills my imagination and is wonderful creative entertainment, it is also-- for me-- a form of avoidance. It fills my head with other people's ideas so that I can avoid making decisions... an making art... and making decisions about my art. I've been avoiding my studio lately, because I am feeling a certain loss of direction, or more accurately, I am heading in too many directions, and I'm still not sure on what I'd like to focus. I want to be able to combine my painting and mixed media with digital collage, but haven't quite worked it out in my head yet. I also want to continue with some writing projects which incorporate my art.
That said, these are the things I did accomplish on the creative front this month, beginning with the books I read, of course!...
The Seven Sisters by Margaret Drabble
Ada Blackjack... A story of survival in the Arctic by Jennifer Niven
Dry by Augusten Burroughs
Dave Barry is from Mars & Venus, by Dave Barry
Sula by Toni Morrison
I've discovered that I like to mix up heavy, emotional books with some light reading. I get very "into" the books I read, and they affect my moods, so Dave Barry was the perfect antidote to the rest of my picks.

When I wasn't reading, or raking leaves,
I initiated an altered art challenge, and I have lots of ideas for mine, but I have not yet done much, because I keep changing my mind!

I had an artist's date with my friend Debbie, but it had been so long since we've gotten together that we spent most of the day catching up and eating, with just a brief sojourn to her studio. We did get together again for a couple of hours later in the month, and I helped her to design and post a blog header, as well as to familiarize her with "new" blogger. (She is quite brilliant, and surpassed my technical expertise within minutes).

I designed a freelance brochure for my husband's company, which was a self-mailer with a CD pocket. I actually love taking on a few freelance jobs during the year because they're usually quite different from the materials I design in my "real" job; oh, and because I get paid too!

Truth in blogging...

My sister Jennifer's boss has come to the conclusion after reading my blog for awhile that my sister and I are nothing alike.

In some ways, this is absolutely accurate. My sister fancies herself somewhat of a princess -- by her own admission -- which would make me the court jester, or a serf, I think. For example, she has her hair done at an expensive salon and "mani-pedis" on a regular basis. I have had two manicures in my entire life and I've never had a professional pedicure. If I had better bone structure, I think I would shave my head, or at least wear a very short pixie cut, as I hate even thinking about hair maintenance. I am happy when my hands are not covered in bandaids from the minor injuries I regularly inflict on them - oven burns and minor knife wounds usually. My current "purse" was originally a vendor giveaway -- my sister's many purses are named after people like Kate Spade. Our local mall has some new stores this year, and we are both equally excited - she can't wait to step foot in Sephora, a store devoted to high end makeup, fragrances and skin care items. I am thrilled that I can now try on my L.L. Bean duck boots before buying them! I have a dog on whom I spend more money for grooming than I do on myself. She barely tolerated the pets she was forced to share a home with when we were children. I can spend an entire weekend reading a good book, and I would guess I read about 30-40 books a year. My sister recently confessed that she's reading a lot more these days too. She's finished three books this year.

But beyond these superficial differences, his conclusion is based on the fact that he knows my sister very well - the way that colleagues who spend many years working together do - and he knows me primarily through my blog, where I exercise the right to edit my thoughts so that readers see what I want them to see. Although we are different, we are also alike in many ways that he doesn't see, because I have crafted a certain image of myself here.

I do want my blog to reflect my authentic self -- who is, in addition to the artistic, nature-loving, dog-crazy woman I've portrayed, also a moody, self-centered, short-tempered, and contradictory individual at times. So I've decided that every now and then, I am going to share random details about me that I normally would not. By the way, I am not implying for one instant, that this is how my sister and I are alike-- that she can be moody, self-centered or short-tempered...just ask her boss.
I'll start with this list I've been compiling in my head for awhile -- That's right. When I'm not pursuing loftier goals like art and reading, this is the crap that fills my head...

(Some) people who annoy the crap out of me...
1. People who stand in lines while talking loudly and animatedly on cell phones. I think this is a form of noise pollution. Such people should maintain a reasonable distance from those of us who are forced to listen -- like stay at home until you're done talking. I don't want to hear your half of an annoying conversation that could have waited until you were in your car talking illegally while driving (which I also hate).
2. People who can't park their cars within the white lines, thereby wasting a space that I could have parked in. I may walk two miles a day with my dog, but I want to pull up close when I'm dashing into the liquor store!
3. People who don't have their cards and deposits ready at the drive-up ATM when they get to the window. Am I the only person who fills out the deposit slip and gets my card ready BEFORE I am parked at the window? If you're not ready when I pull up behind you, please pull around and get behind me.
4. People who don't use turn signals. When I'm tailgating, you'd better let me know that you're turning, or I might accidentally rear-end you.
5. People who have daily bowel movements at the office. Is this really necessary? How can you even relax enough to do this within such close proximity to your colleagues? And how do you manage to disappear so that it looks like I LEFT THAT odor when I leave the restroom?
6. People who are dieting and then explain in minute detail all the little bitty things they barely ate today. "I had green tea and half a rice cake for breakfast, then a lowfat string cheese for a snack, then the hard boiled egg - but only half the yolk for lunch, and 18 almonds - I must confess I like the salted ones, so I mix them with the unsalted so they're not as bad." Oh shut up. I had a turkey sandwich at 10 am, with chips and a pickle, and then in the afternoon, I tried to steal someone's microwave meal out of the freezer because, of course, I was hungry since I ate my lunch at 10 am. And I can't wait to get home and have half a pound of pasta with pesto sauce, garlic bread and a glass or three of wine.

So there it is...another side of me. I hope I don't run into any of you on the drive home...literally.

I have such a great sense of humor...

that I almost had to get my resume in order...
It happened like this.
My colleague asked me to forward an email photo of the new president of our organization to her. She referred to an image that appeared on page 10 of our monthly magazine. I looked on page 10, and there was no photo of our president. So AS A JOKE, I sent this image instead. She's not our new president, as you might guess. I expected to hear a chuckle from my colleague's office, and then a smart retort via email to send the correct photo.

Instead, I heard nothing. I wanted laughter - or a response - something, so after a few minutes I sent another email asking my colleague to check the photo I sent to make sure it was the right one... and her response to me was:

"Nice - I just sent it to the [name withheld to protect the guilty] newspaper...without checking it.
Our boss is gonna love us now. I copied her on the email."

Fortunately, our boss did not open the attachment, (because she trusts us!!) so she has no idea this is the photo we sent. And we did immediately send a correct photo to the [name withheld to protect the guilty] newspaper; unfortunately this is a rather small, NYC weekly union paper -- the kind where you'll find a diverse range of characters pictured all the time, and they might not distinguish between our esteemed president and, well, this woman.

So I have been anxiously awaiting a copy of this newspaper for over a week, to see whether I should be looking for a new job.

And it arrived yesterday, and it does not contain this photo.
So I still have a job.
This week.

Desire. ask, believe, receive

When you have a chance, check out the July-August issue of Somerset Studio... All 160 pages are luscious, as usual, but I am a bit partial to pages 88 to 91, where my article appears! There's also a wonderful project in the Melange section by Misty Mawn, one of my favorite artists, and just so many pages of great art inspired by and made with nature.


I have been doing a lot of reading lately that focuses on the power of our thoughts and feelings and intentions to manifest our destiny (The Secret, for one), and I really believe that we have the power, through positive thought and meditation, combined with action, to reach our goals, improve our health, and to simply attract all the good this Universe has to offer. My little article is the first in what I hope are many intentions that become reality for me as I try to attract the life I've always wanted.

Desire - Think about what you want - specifically - imagine it
Ask - Ask for it, out loud or in writing. Declare it to yourself and to others and make it real.
Believe - From the moment you ask, believe that it is yours. It is manifesting itself and will find its way to you.
Receive - Be open to the possibilities. Be alert and aware so that you recognize it when it appears.

May all of your wildest dreams come true.

The agony of the hands...

Sometimes feels like defeat.

I apologize to my faithful blog readers. I am suffering from a severe case of sudden onset carpal tunnel syndrome, (socts - if you like acronyms - though I made that up) and it is excruciating. I am not sure exactly why it has happened so suddenly. I have worked at the same workstation for several years with no ill effects, but now, no amount of adjusting my computer, mouse, chair, keyboard, etc. seems to alleviate the constant pain that throbs from my thumb and the base of my wrist up to my elbow. And the pain persists even when I am not at the computer. To be completely accurate, the pain did start gradually a few weeks a go, but it was easily ignored. Last week, it went from easy to ignore to unbearable in one agonizing moment.

My husband, an expert in pain and suffering, bought me a great wrist brace and a giant bottle of advil, which both seem to help a little, but given that I sit at a computer for eight hours a day pounding away at keyboard and mouse, they are not enough. Perhaps a full-time masseusse and a bottle of vodka would work better. I'll let you all know.

In the meantime, I am posting this picture that I found last week while walking Max. As I've mentioned many times, our walk takes us along a number of paths around our local grade school and high school. It is an odd phenomenon that I've observed through two late spring seasons now that as the school year winds down, the bike path is strewn not just with spring buds and maple seeds but also with the remnants of desks and lockers, as if students cannot wait to shed the homework and school projects that have weighed them down all year. So it did not startle me to find a poster project, highlighting the life of Johann Sebastian Bach, unceremoniously dumped against a garbage dumpster near the junior high school last week. It had obviously sat out overnight, as the images and photos attached to the board curled at the edges and were discolored by the elements, but I loved what the damage had apparently done to this picture of a violin, so I tore it from the poster and brought it home, to find new life on my blog and in a digital collage that I have yet to create.

Numbers...13

#2 in a series. It is humid today an my energy is sapped right now, so I may add more later, but for now, #13 says it all.

Numbers

#1 in a series
I've been noticing numbers lately...on telephone poles, electric boxes, elevators, the sides of buildings, painted on the ground. Sometimes their meanings are obvious, sometimes obscure. I appreciate the graphic forms of numbers and letters, as well as what they symbolize. Numbers in particular are more subtle identifiers than names.
I am photographing them as they appear, and then altering them in Photoshop. I don't know how long this project will last... as long as it takes, I guess. I don't have a specific number in mind.

Confessions of a dollar store junkie

I admit it. I love dollar stores. I know of every store within a 25-mile radius of my home, (there are at least 9) and if I am headed anywhere, I cannot pass by without a quick peek inside, where $1 quickly becomes $30 before I leave. Today it was $39.97, to be exact.
I was looking for small containers that could hold sets of notecards for an upcoming class I am teaching. I found the perfect little boxes, wrapped in decorative floral papers, with a ribbon loop to open them. I needed 10 for class, but I couldn't leave the 3 remaining boxes behind, could I? Then I found sets of pens, small tins, and small journal books that matched the little boxes. So I bought a few of those as well. Two boxes of ziplock baggies, 1 package of bamboo skewers, 6 wooden easels, an ornamental mirror, a pad of newsprint and one box of baby wipes later, I left the store and dashed back to work. This was just my lunch hour.
While many of my purchases were practical - I use the baggies and baby wipes in the classes I teach, so they really are a staple -- many of the remaining purchases fell into the category of "If I don't get these now I'll need them next week and I'll come back and they'll be gone." Of course, my art room is filled with items that I had to have and was certain that I would use, but haven't ... yet. Yet. Such a little three-letter word, but it holds such promise. One of the pitfalls of having a creative mind is that I can see creative potential in just about EVERYTHING. And if it costs only $1, the temptation is simply irresistible.

So I stash things aside, and tuck things away, until the perfect opportunity presents itself. Hmm. I should have gotten a few more of those little journal books. Gotta run!


And in other news...
There's nothing like a full-day staff meeting to bring out my inner doodler. As a child I used to draw all the time. I've gotten away from it, but scribbling away these faces in my notepad made me remember how much I enjoy it.