Art, Life

When progress goes kaput…

Sometimes I liken my moods to a plane and I’m the pilot.

I’ve been really motivated recently. I’ve been getting a lot done, maintaining my house
really well, being very creative and focused. I’ve been keeping up my various social media accounts, updating them with pictures of what I’m currently working on. I’ve just been doing really well.

About the plane… For the past 2 days I’ve felt a descent. Not a gradual descent. More like
my engines suddenly failed. I woke up and the colors weren’t nearly as bright and vivid as they have been. Never a good sign.

A few things can happen. I quickly descend in a very rough way, unsure about the landing. Or I quickly descend in a graceful way, unsure about the landing, but able to control the plane enough that I have a chance of not crashing. Maybe I have time to plan. There’s still that uncertainty, though.

When I get close to land, I might be able to land the plane in a relatively safe way.
Certainly some turbulence and discomfort. The seat belt will undoubtedly dig into my thighs and leave some bruises, but I’ll be okay. Shaken up, but okay. Or I crash and burn. The plane is wrecked and cleanup will take some time.

I think I’ve been hypomanic. I want to believe that all of this progress I’ve been making,
all of this focus and drive is 100% me. I did this. I created and maintained this. I am
doing great. The way the plane is shaking, though, I think it might’ve been hypomania and I’m getting ready to descend.

So far, my descension isn’t reckless, so I’m definitely ahead. I’m noticing it rather than
my engines bursting into flames. I’m getting little warnings here and there, letting me
know something’s amiss.

I have a feeling I’ll land with some grace. My fear is that everything I’ve been doing will
stop. The motivation will stay gone. I remember, though, that the desire has not left.
That’s a great sign! Maybe I can work with that.

In the meantime, here’s a photo of my oldest boy, Patrick. He’s 15 and a professional. What is he a professional of? I’m not sure, he won’t tell me. It’s clearly something really
important, though.

Patrick1 (Large)

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Art, Photography

As usual, it’s been awhile…

Typical Jenn. I always forget how long it’s been since I last wrote. I’m surprised by the amount of time that has passed. I shouldn’t be, though. Things happen, life happens, etc…

I’ve been working on boxes for the past couple of weeks. Little decorative boxes that I paint and sculpt embellishments for. I’ll post pics at some point.

For the past 30 minutes, though, I’ve been going through files on my computer. Specifically old artwork and photographs. I’ve been sorting through the past several years of my life wondering where I would be now, artistically, had I been able to keep my shit together.

Life happens.

I have prints of my ocean photographs on Fine Art America that I occasionally sell. I found the folder containing them and I wanted to share one of my favorite ones. It’s not the most colorful or interesting, but it makes me feel the most. It’s not anyone’s favorite, but mine. I call it “Pull” because that’s what’s happening. I was standing in the water at Topsail Island in North Carolina and the waves pulled back, my feet sinking into the sand. It made me dizzy, yet it grounded me. I love that feeling. I look forward to going back.

I’ll write again soon.pull (Large)

Art, Painting

It paints again…

I didn’t stop forever, just for a while. I finished the Alice painting, which I will post once its owner gets her sexy mitts on it. In the meantime, here’s some weird shit I’m working on. I’m frustrated with it because, well, look at it. It’s a frustrating thing. I suppose that’s why it’s an in-progress picture and not a voila-done picture.

I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s been a weird few days. I’m out.

IMG_20160727_205101

Art

34 Going On 12

(an immature 12)

One post since 2014. This makes two.

I would say I feel like a failure for not keeping up with this or that, but that’s not entirely right. I’ve been keeping up with other things — taking care of myself and my surroundings. Simply, unwrecking my world.

I moved and that has improved my surroundings. The lull that I’ve entered is delicious. It’s much needed and will allow me to carry on the next time shit gets wrecked. Wouldn’t have it any other way, though. All good is just as bad as all bad, yeah? A different kind of bad, anyway. Like a Michael Jackson kind of bad.

While searching for new digs, one criterion was having a dedicated room for doing art. I’m still unpacking, but my brushes and paints are out. I found scraps of canvas that I cut a while back and have started a painting.

Confession: I have been notoriously careless when it comes to painting (or doing any kind of art). My needs (what I thought) were to simply get out whatever is in my head. I get the image out, but it’s a bastardized version of what I wanted to do. My impatience let the shoddiness slide just so I could move on to whatever was next. And if nothing was next, then I did nothing. Since coming to this shameful realization this year, I have kicked my impatience in the teeth and now it’s in a semi-conscious state and unable to speak.

This painting is taking much longer than normal. It’s not even a quarter of the way done. This is driving me mad, but I need it to drive me mad. It’s good for me! Plus, the more time I take on it, the more I’m spotting these horrendous mistakes that I otherwise wouldn’t have seen/cared about if I was rushing. Intention is good. Discipline and all that.

Now that I’ve embarrassed myself by sharing all that, let me share what I’ve done so far:

wip jul 17 2014

Art

Illustration Friday: Suspend

I like the word “suspend” and the many images that could be associated with it.

In November of last year I drew a similar picture while in a hospital waiting room. The idea of being suspended by a thread passing through the navel intrigued me. Sort of the second tie to life, with the umbilical cord being the first. However, once this tie is cut, it’s over…or the end of this is followed by the beginning of a new life, depending on your beliefs.

This time ’round I drew a hand above the suspended body, with the thread wrapped around the little finger.

Art, Life

Whitney, Whitney, Whitney…

First, I should say that I have very little interest in celebrity news, gossip, or general goings-on. I don’t care who shaved their head, flashed their undies (or lack of), cheated on this one with that one, or ate a live zebra (okay, if that happened it might pique my interest…a little). I am, however, interested in who volunteered their time/money here or there, supported this or that cause, made an incredibly nice gesture, and ate a live zebra. My interest in these things isn’t limited to celebrities, though I’m interested in anyone that does this stuff.

Now that I’ve said all that, I decided that it would be appropriate to write an entry about the death of Whitney Houston. I’ve never owned an album of hers, but I remember hearing her music while growing up. I also remember hearing about her issues with drugs and relationships. Since this is an art-related blog and Whitney Houston was a musical artist, I figured it was relevant.

Beyond her music or personal issues, I know nothing of her. I don’t know what/if she did anything to help other people, I don’t know what her interests were, or what causes or issues touched her heart. I know that at one point she was placed on this fantastic pedestal to eventually be yanked off of it once her flaws out shined her voice.

It should be of no surprise that since her death, that negativity continues: Crack-this-that-jokes, She deserved to die, I’m glad she’s dead, etc… that is what I’ve been reading on FB, Twitter, and various other places online. I don’t understand the point.

She was a celebrity, but she was a human one. Just as real as you or I, simply playing on a different stage. Long ago I realized that celebrities are portrayed as cheap products that function poorly, are given horrible reviews, yet people keep buying them. There are expectations set for them that don’t make sense, nor would I wish them upon anyone. I don’t think I could handle feeling relatively secure as a person and, as soon as I make a mistake or do something that is seen as a mistake, everyone tears me apart as if I was less than human. In fact, this did happen to me, and I’m a nobody it was awful to deal with. There are always understanding voices trying to shout over the mob, but they’re drowned out by venomous comments, teasing, and bullying. Whether you’re a celebrity, public figure, or average Joe, this happens. Of course, with people in the public eye, it happens on a vastly larger scale than in a small town. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though. Truthfully it seems like cruelty, not love, knows no bounds.

Was I incredibly saddened to hear she died? Honestly, no. I think any death is sad, some more than others. I felt bad for her family, as I would with anyone that lost someone. I don’t think the world lost a hero, I don’t think her death will spark a revolution or a create major shift in anything (with the exception of her family). She was another person that, throughout her life succumbed to various things that affect people, eventually died for whatever reason, and that is sad. Of course, to her massive amount of fans, it’s probably a tragedy, and that’s okay too. Sometimes I think fans create this sort of familial relationship, so when the center of that family dies, they all take it hard. I’m sure that if Steve Martin goes before I do, I will feel very sad. I felt shocked and sad when Michael Jackson died, not because he was a performer, but because of what I knew about his upbringing and every event that followed him throughout his life. I feel deeply sad when I hear of a soldier dying, even though in order to hear about those deaths, you have to sift through a lot of other stuff…

Death is an incredible occurrence that can shake foundations and traumatize anyone. So is cruelty. Combining the two will never lead to anything good. For the ones being unkind to the ones receiving it nothing good, no one benefits. I know I’m not alone in my thinking, but I often feel like I’m trying to shout over the mob.

Blog, Life

A thank you post…

Those that know me know that I can get really mushy sometimes and the level of mush depends on the circumstances and how I’m feeling. People that aren’t familiar with me either think that I’m being “sweet” or that I’m being disingenuous (those that think this tend to be the most cynical about everything) or a sort of sycophant. When it comes time for me to offer a thank you, I tend to get nervous because of the very reasons I mentioned.

There is this feeling inside my torso that I get when I’m really, really grateful for something (this happens a lot). If I don’t acknowledge it, the feeling builds and that’s where the level of mushiness really comes into play. If I let it build too much, I become this sobbing blob of fat that blubbers about how wonderful this or that is (this really happens) and it actually becomes physically painful…like I want to explode and allow rainbows and glitter to shoot out of my disintegrating viscera…or something equally exciting. Rather than that awesomeness happening, I just cry REALLY hard for a few minutes, and then I’m over it and can get on with making horrific drawings or ridiculous cartoons.

SO, now that all of you are aware of these truly embarrassing things about me (things I don’t share, mind you) I want to say:

THANK YOU FOR READING!

I think it’s terrific that people read this blog (for whatever reason) and like it enough to “Like” it and even follow! I’m grateful for that. So, thank you!

I also think it’s neat that the people who Like/follow the blog are so similar to one another – we all seem to share the same sense of humor/writing style/interest in art/etc… So, of course, if you spot a fellow Liker on a post, click on them and see what their deal is if you don’t already do that! It’s almost like watching a video on YouTube and then continually clicking on the suggested videos until you end up in an unknown land that may or may not traumatize you. Almost.