WELL-STRUNG Mozart Meets Kelly Clarkson

My conundrum of late

-->

Musings for Today

The energies are demanding that I do a lot of memory clearing and forgiving, so I choose writing as a method of this clearing!

And  I find myself at a crossroads, with a conundrum brewing.

A little explanation is needed.

I have always been creative, am an artist at heart to the core.

Although, my parents didn’t formally nurture this inherent ability, nor was I exposed to art and museums, I read a lot, and poured over the pictures in the books that were in our house, looking for interesting pictures of textures and design, pleasing landscapes; always enjoyed looking at the fabrics my Mom bought to make clothes or crafts; and always found it an exciting mystery to open left-over cans of paints from construction jobs that my Daddy had sitting around in his workshop.

He would let me make abstract painting onto scrap pieces of wood with these left-over paints, while using old stiff paint brushes or sticks of wood to deliver the paint onto my substrate, incorporating found objects, saw dust and shavings from his table saw, bits of hay and straw, and interesting floral bits into the finished piece.  I never kept these works of art though.  Generally, because I had used smooth flat pieces, Daddy had to use them for one of his jobs. After he had cleaned off my work of art.  He was such a practical person. As was my Mom.

This must be where I began my love of Mixed Media and Collage.

Both parents were creative in their own way: my Mom sewed and did a lot of crafts although, oddly enough, she never invited me to join her.  Hmmm.

I did learn to sew from watching her and from being in 4-H.

And my Daddy had studied carpentry and architecture at one time, before WWII began. And since I tagged along after him most of the time when I was a kid, always in the outdoor, I learned instinctively a lot about natural structures, colors, designs, textures, etc.

We never had enough money to buy special art supplies, so I carefully saved my crayons, paste, and paints from school each year, and hoarded discarded papers.  This explains why I am such a packrat today.  

Plus, Mom always saved my school art work, and I continued the tradition by saving every piece of our kids school art work.

I drew pictures in the southern Indiana, dry, red clay dirt during the summers.

Made and decorated snow angels in the winter.

Scratched out designs on the ice of our ponds when the weather was cold, cold, cold.  I remember kneeling on the frozen ice until my little knees hurt and my fingers grew stiff with cold; my head swaddled in heavy woolen scarves, and layered with sweaters under my one wool coat. My toes would grown numb inside my rubber golaches.

But, there was no one to nurture and guide my creative gift.

Unknowingly, until now that I am an adult with access to art supplies and classes, I watched the change of the seasons, the changes of the growth cycle of trees and weeds, marveled at the woods and fields as they changed during the seasons through drought, rain, and snow.

When in high school, I was content and in artistic bliss!  I was finally doing and learning the techniques and methods to make the ideas in my head a creative reality. 

I loved my art teacher. Literally.

And I had also found that I could write, and was encouraged by my sophomore English teacher (not my Mom), to express myself.

Which, by the way, had previously not been encouraged by my folks: you know, children are made to be seen and not heard.

My senior year, I wanted to go the college and study Art. But, my folks were not supportive of that idea.  Art was a lucrative profession for a woman. This was in the early 1970’s. (I later did a homes study course in Conservation, but again, this was a dangerous and unacceptable profession for a women.)

I had the choice, if you can call it a choice, of studying English and becoming an English teacher, or getting a job at a factory.

Guess which choice I chose.  Nope, not the English teacher path.

I worked in a variety of factories, always with the trepidation of injuring my fingers, (our son is a professional Clarinetist and also has this dread of injuring his fingers) particularly when I was working as an off bearer at a huge table saw in a cabinet factory, and when I was sewing the eyelet tab on tennis shoes with a huge fast moving needle.

Both places were hot and noisy.

But I learned a lot about people.

Then, I worked with my Daddy and brother building houses.  I was the mud mixer, the foundation concrete block layer, the interior finisher, and the go-fer.

Under my Daddy’s ever-watchful eye and tutelage, I learned the ethic of hard work, doing expert work with no mistakes, (Daddy was a task-master regarding this.  He would never allow slipshod work), that feeling that comes from finishing a project and knowing it is well done, and working with people: co-workers and those people who had hired our Daddy and his crew.

I enjoyed young adult bliss with my own apartment, parties and friends.

But I was restless.  And oddly enough, I was tired of people.

People always seemed to not measure up to my standards. They always seemed to disappoint, starting with my non-supportive parents.

People always had too many faults and foibles.

Except for my best friend Sara Rae. 

We were two of a kind.

Two opposites: I was wild and carefree; she had family responsibilities.

And then, I moved away and left the best woman I have ever know.

And then I became a practicing Christian.  My folks had raised us Christian, but were nominal at best. Gave up most of my vices. For many years. 

If I hadn’t walked this path, I would not have met my wonderful husband, nor had our wonderful kids.

I was the best Christian I could be. The best Wife I could be. The best Mother I could be.

And then, Christians (not my husband and kids) let me down too.

Told me I was not good enough to be a Christian. That I was wicked because I wore jewelry, and ate meat, and had too creative of ideas that challenged the members.

If I had not left this church, I would not be where I am today.

I am Spiritual and not religious. 

I follow both the Goddess and God.

Eclectic religiosity. I can chose how I express my Spirituality.

And somewhere, during all this time, my artistic heart went into hibernation.

My married family life was stable, pleasant, predictable, safe, and I was then free to explore my artist heart. But I could not find what had been.

My husband is/was a dedicated husband, father, and teacher. And a talented and unfulfilled musician. He has a degree in Music.  He used to write music and play trumpet. But our town has no outlet for musicians.

(You may ask why we just haven’t moved to a location where there is a true artistic community.  Well, we wanted stability for the children, and financially, we could never afford to move.)

 He is/was the bread-winner of the family. 

And we thrived as a family, and still thrive as a family, on one pay check a month.

I worked off and on when we needed extra money for emergencies.

Still, I could never afford art supplies, nor classes. 

And beside, the home-grown artists in this town that did/do teach classes are odd in that they don’t accept very well, outsiders.  And I am an outsider. 

I am too shy to expose my talent, and my lack of talent, to those who I am afraid will judge my ability harshly. 

Oh, such a fragile person I have become.

 

Fabric to make the kids clothes, I could figure into our budget because it was a necessity.  To me it was a luxury because I could hoard the beautiful fabric scraps.

I treasured the art projects my kids did in school. And still have some of their elementary art pieces hanging on our walls.  Andhave most of their projects stored in boxes.

I still use the coiled baskets my daughter made in art.

Finally, an older friend and I took oil painting classes from a wonderful craftswoman from another town.  Such bliss I hadn’t felt in years! 

I could oil paint!!!! This discovery began to open my artistic heart.

My older friend also quilted, and I discovered I could quilt!

Bliss again! My heart is opening further.

But alas, this older friend, soon her husband passed over, left this world, and me.

During the time I was becoming an oil painter and quilter, I met a woman, and later we became brief friends, who has an extraordinary artistic gift.

If a person can be artistically autistic, then she would be an example.

As hard as she tried to do what was expected of her as a wife and mother, she always fell short, her intrinsic art gift always taking over her life. Actually, it was her life, her Soul, her Anam Cara.

Not in a million years, could her talents rub off on me. 

I could only watch from afar, and wish I had a pinch of her talent.

And then, she moved away nearly ten years ago.

I have been bereft of female companionship since then.

Sometimes, I am glad of this because most women are critical (as my Mom was), sometimes heartless, demanding their own way, and not fully attuned to being a friend.

This town ruins a person (although I dodged this bullet) in that, newcomers are outsiders if they hang out with outsiders.  So, new women in town don't want to be an outsider. Hence, don't hang out with me. 

I, on the other hand, try to seek out newcomers and welcome them to be outsiders. Thus far, I have failed.

It seems each woman, who becomes my acquaintance, disappoints me in some way.

During my pneumonia illness, I was nearly bedridden.  To pass the time, I found a delightful craft podcast on my iPhone.

And damn, if the woman through her love of crafting and art, did not inspire me, encourage me, put a longing spark inside me, to want to share art with people again.

The longing to find a compassionate woman who would be friend and teacher; someone with whom  to share artistic idea

And that is my conundrum. 

Where in this community are there women like that? A person who will accept an outsider?

And my knee-jerk reaction to becoming friends with another woman, who will ultimately, in the end, disappoint, and then leave me.

Sounds like I have Mother Issues!!!!!!

But, this has been cathartic to write all this.

Now, read and enjoy and explore and discover.

Share your thoughts and comments with me.

But only if they are compassionate. For I am a fragile person it seems.

New rubber stamp and new projects in the works

Hello Everyone!
Hope you had an exciting Independence Day!

Even though the moon is waning, my creativity just doesn't want to slow down.

Here are pictures of two new collages I have started. Plus several new ATC's.

New Rubber stamp from Hobby Lobby. On sale for only $4.28.Sta

Stamped with Martha Stewart Black Pigment Ink on scrapbook paper.

 Over glazed with pearlescent acrylic paint.

Same technique as previous image on different scrapbook paper and different color of acrylic paint.

The next two pictures are of the substrate I will be using for the new collage projects.

I used 140 lbs. cold press watercolor paper, and grabbed my grand-daughters extra large set of watercolors.  Both substrates need to be pressed flat before I add the ephemera and stamped image.

Substrate for collage. Watercolor under pearlescent acrylic paint, then scraped with a frosting designer tool.

Substrate for collage. Same technique as previous substrate with different colors and frosting tool.

  

Ephemera I will make the collage with before I add the stamped image.

Experimental background for a third collage.  Made with the same techniques as the first two. The raised areas give an impression of embossing.  I used gesso with some floral stencils, then over glazed it all with pearlescent gold acrylic paint, wiping the acrylic from the gessoed areas.  I really love this effect. 

Several ATC's being made along with the collages.

These last sets of pictures are of my new craft area.  My husband and I started and finished hanging the white shelves last November.  There is a great deal of work needing to be done since I have to share this space with our exercise equipment and the grand-childrens toys and such.

But it is a work in progress. Once we shift furniture from several other rooms to our storage unit, then the exercise equipment gets moved to my husbands office.  And that means lots more room for my craft supplies.  

 

The yarn storage components are made with recycled heavy cardboard boxes.  I taped them together on the front and back with brown packaging tape. Then, secured the top and bottom with a liberal amount of horizontal strips of the packaging tape.  I think I will put pretty little curtains over the front to keep the yarn dust and debris free.

Right now the material is kind of bunched up: folded nicely in plastic keepers, and wrapped with a flannel sheet to protect it from dust, or stored in recycled zippered bed sheet bags. I really have to find a more satisfactory solution in storing the fabric.  Any suggestions will be appreciated.

I've stored lots more fabric, and clothing I plan to recycle into projects, in our storage unit.  And that will come out soon to find a new home in my craft room.

This is my messy work table for now.  I usually work on our dining room table where I have a wonderful eastern window with excellent lighting.  However, the dining room table was nearly covered with all my supplies while I was making my Mixed Media Summer Solstice Art Tags, and I thought it would be nice to actually use the table for dining for a while before I begin my next big projects.
Which by the way, the Art Tags and most of my other crafts are on sale through July. Please go to:

http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/studio/WhereTwoRiversMeet 

You may just find something you really, really love and want to buy it.

Just thought I would add this collage.  It is a fairly recent project and the one I use as the main attraction picture for my Artfire shop. It is acrylic on canvas, with bits of thread sprinkled throughout, and vintage floral stickers decoupaged upon the acrylic.  I especially like the imprint of the stamped bubble wrap at the bottom.  You will see more of that technique in the two new collages. Maybe even the third.

That is all for now.  Thanks for reading and viewing!

If you would like to leave comments on my blog, and especially on items in my Artfire shop, PLEASE DO SO!
I love reading your comments and find them very helpful in improving my blog, my shop, and my Art and Crafts!

Blessings to you!

Tatoo plans

Well, I am thinking about getting a tatoo.  I don't know what I want, nor where to put it on my body.  No sense in hiding it under my clothing is there.

I am a croning and mature woman, with sun damaged skin from excessive exposure to the sun without sunscreen, because my Mom never said to me, "better put on sunscreen."

Any of you out there who worshiped in the sun years ago, and now have kind of sagging, mature,  freckled and blotchy skin?
Where would you suggest I put this future tatoo?

I want something that tells of who I am. I want to express that I am part of a tribe and clan!!!

This morning I was thinking about the time our kids all got the same tatoo between the upper shoulders of their back. See photos. 
This proves they are from the same tribe and clan. (Makes me think of the enduring tatoos discovered on the mummified skin of the "Ice Man" who was found in a high alpine valley as the glaciers melt from the Alps of Switzerland.)

Our daughter had come home for our youngest sons collage graduation, and our oldest son was home on leave from the Navy for the occasion, and right after the graduation ceremony off they went to the tatoo parlor.
They revealed their matching tatoos at the graduation party and reception later that evening.
It is a pretty cool tatoo.  The image is called the Huguenot Cross.

My husband is from South Africa, but generations ago, during the Religious Wars in Europe ( 1524-1648), his noble family left what is now the country of Belgium, but was then part of France,  because of religious persecution, and emigrated to Capetown, which was a Dutch/English colony.
The Huguenot Cross represents one as being descended from French Huguenot ancestry.

The family name is still in ownership of one of the oldest vineyards and wine producers in the Stollenboch area of South Africa.  His ancestral family took their vineyard grape slips and cuttings with them to transplant in their new world and home.

Over 400 hundred years later, the children's intrepid, hearty, and courageous ancestors will be remembered.  They know exactly from who, and from where,  they have come.

I am not so lucky to be able to claim a tribe or clan.
My ancestors must have been brigands and on the run from the law.
On my Mom's Father's side: they came to Nova Scotia from Scotland and Ireland around the late 1600's and early 1700's,  about the time of the English persecutions and wars of those times in those lands.
Other than that, I can't trace them any further back. Their name on the old records may not even have been the original name of the clan they came from in Scotland.  They may have changed their name to protect themselves.
So, I create my own stories for them.
The later women who ended up in Indiana, where I am originally from, were some pretty fierce looking, robust, and husky females.  Thanks to them, I have wide shoulders, thick waist, and a twitchy temperament. LOL
However, I am lucky that my maternal grandmother can trace her lineage to Holland.  I even have distant relatives living there.  Nothing exceptional in her history.

My ancestors on my Daddy's side, were two German mercenary brothers during the American Revolution, fighting for the British.  But then, seeing the advantages of staying in this wonderful country instead of going back to a over populated area of southern Germany with no chance of inheriting the family farm, they switched sides, and later were awarded land grants. 
So again, lost heritage, other than the brothers came from Germany.
Who didn't come from Germany, England, Scotland, or Ireland in the early days of our American history?
Sigh................
So, who am I really?  Who is my tribe and clan, other than my children?
I suppose I can look at it as being the maternal progenitor of a new clan. Yes?

Thanks for listening.

Summer Solstice Mixed Media Art Tags

Ulk...today I had an upper molar extracted.  The first tooth that has ever been pulled since I lost my baby teeth. Or my wisdom teeth, that were unceremoniously yanked out, which don't count because they have to come out anyway.  Actually, mine had to be cut out.  One had come through the gum, and the other three were still sleeping beneath the tissue.
Who remembers your daddy wrapping one end of a thread around that stubborn baby tooth that just wouldn't come out, tying the other end to the door knob of an open door.  And then daddy closing the door.  And out popped the baby tooth.  Sounds barbaric now that I write it down.  LOL
Anyway, the extraction came about because of a botched root canal about 20 years ago.
So, enough of that....

This post is the first of the new and updated version of The Adventures of an Ordinary Craft Day.
 I will have a new look with photos videos, and links of craft sites that are fun and informative. So, check back often.
I have been wanting to do this since I started this blog, but never had the time.  

Finally, I am getting my Summer Solstice Mixed Media Art Tags uploaded into my ArtFire Shop.
Those babies were a long time in the making because I had pneumonia all through the month of June.
Not a fun illness to have.  My beautiful and patient husband nursed me back to health. What a way for him to start his retirement.
Here are photos of some finished ones:

 If  you would like to see the process of how I made these, and several pictures of most of the new Art Tags, please check out the Summer Solstice posts on my Artfire blog at: http://www.artfire.com/ext/shop/blog/WhereTwoRiversMeet

I must say though, that during that long illness, I was able to watch craft podcasts on my iPhone, when I wasn't eating or doing the albuterol nebulizer treatments.
There is one in particular, Created By Us, that I found most enchanting and educational.  Michelle, the hostess, is a very talented artist, who loves doing a variety of art, and crafts.
 She is fun to watch, and is very encouraging to try new crafts.
I can't say any particular video is my favorite because I found the ones I have watched thus far very informative.
Michelle also has a website and blog that is fun to follow.
You can find her website here: www.craftedby.us

So, that is all for now.
Have a great 4th of July.
See you soon!
Blessings!