I’ve had a package of tiny canvases hanging around my art stuff for awhile. Now that I’ve decided what to do with them I realize I need more! I see a small area of wall filled with tiny tangled canvases…
Walking home for lunch today the sun blessed a patch of flowers as I walked past. My momentum kept me moving but head made me stop. I turned around and picked a few of the luscious purple blooms. A little further on white petals laying on green drew my eye like a spotlight. I grabbed some of those. At home I peeled the label off an old Grey Poupon jar, soaked the glass in hot soapy water and rubbed the sticky residue off with an eraser. Then I went out back and clipped off a Rhododendron stem.
I’ve never been one to arrange flowers. I buy them and stick them in a vase. But having picked my own I thought I had nothing to lose.
“Mom do you want to draw with me?” No way I’m gonna turn that down. He pulled out one of his ‘how to draw’ books and picked the first three in it for us to combine. Together we created and drew a Frogilasnake. We took turns drawing.
This chat between us obviously inspired Isabella to pull out paper and pencil because while we devised a new monster she drew a kitty for me. I love that they involve themselves in my experience.
Later in the afternoon came the opportunity to build a stand for the utility sink which has been unhooked and laying around in the laundry area since moving in. I can’t describe how good it feels to get things accomplished.
Almost a year ago I took this photo of a bike. I saw it often on my morning walks around the neighborhood and something about it always made me happy. An old rusty bike finding new life as a garden ornament holding flowers. Admittedly I wished they’d taken the idea further – brighter flowers, perhaps a climbing vine. Regardless, I knew I wanted to try painting it someday.
For some reason, tonight was the night. I began by sketching in the fence. It wasn’t right. Back to a blank page. Then I pulled out my compass and drew the circles for the tires of the bike continuing on to the rest of the shape. I didn’t like it. Back to a blank page. Screw it…I’ll start with the watercolor and keep it loose. I wanted a light fun feeling to the picture. My critic fought me the whole damn way. But I’m happy to say despite that I finished it anyway.
“Oh yea, how’s that?”
She raised an eyebrow at me as if to say ‘you’re not foolin’ me, Mom.’ (She’s practicing for her teenage looks and attitude.) When I didn’t respond she smiled sweetly and said “Zentangle.”
I have brilliant kids.
I took a few eggs I hadn’t boiled and blew out the insides so I’d have an empty egg to work with.
Ink doesn’t dry very quickly on eggshell so this will get finished later but it’s a start.
I go about my day as normal and occasionally get a glimpse of what my creative adventure might involve that night. It’s like a day-long, semi-conscious, no-clues scavenger hunt. A quote that catches my eye gets filed away, an image sticks in my head as something I’d like to try and paint, or words bounce around in my thoughts, Boggle-like, waiting to settle into place before I can write them down.
And then there are my numbers. I’ve been collecting them throughout the year. Sometimes they present themselves to me while I’m out walking but as the numbers have gotten higher they are more difficult to find so I Google them looking for images I like. And still other times I create them myself. I always look at my previous post to check and see where I am. Today is day 350.
Wow. I’ve been doing this everyday for 350 days. Crazy.
One of the things I gathered in my hunt today was my son’s delight in April Fools Day. This is a day he shines. He was four years old when he first grasped what it was. And he tortured his preschool teacher with pranks all day long. I’m pretty sure she secretly loved it. He’s always had an advanced sense of humor uncommon for his age.
This afternoon when we got home from school he said, “Mom. There’s a piece of toast for you. I made it this morning.” I’d gone to the gym so was absent during the morning routine. I thought, ‘well that’s sweet of my boy.’ Since it had been out all day the bread had gotten really hard so I put it in the yard waste and didn’t think more about it…until Derek got home. Apparently this morning Quinn had made Derek a piece of toast. “With butter,” he said. Derek went to eat it he thought it smelled a little funny. Quinn smiled and said he’d done it with frosting. Derek said he’d almost taken a bite but then he remembered we were out of frosting. Turns out Quinn ‘buttered’ the toast with toothpaste. That’s what he tried to serve me this afternoon. He’s a tricky one, my little guy.
So that’s a little peek into my world of creating a post.