Not Just a Pretty Face

I call this painting "Not Just a Pretty Face." I have another part to it, making it a diptych. This photo is not good - I snapped it in the studio tonight and not outside. Glare is a problem in photographing art - but especially so in encaustic. Very reflective.

Anyway. I know this is weird, but I think I like it. I finished it several weeks ago and have just been looking at it since - trying to decide what comes next - not for this painting, but to continue my theme. I may have one brewing, but I'm not there yet.

I think I will tread and see if my muse will return.

We have a beautiful moon tonight. Papa and I enjoyed watching it shine between the clouds on our way home from dinner in Cayucos. Great dinner!

Not Much

My brain is empty tonight.

I guess I could mention that I enjoyed a lovely cookie baking morning with Roo before getting Buddy from school. After a conversation with the school art teacher, I think I am making progress in getting children's art to display at the art association gallery.

The kids stayed late; I gave them baths and fed them pizza before taking them home.

Tonight I balanced the checkbook in just a few minutes. That is a fine accomplishment.

With that done, I am going to tread for a while.

I am not happy with my art today. I have two pieces I may throw away.

I am looking forward to having Billy time tomorrow.

This is Buddy's drawing of ME peering at an ant farm. He did this after I drew one of him.


Before Buddy, my now six-year-old grandson, was two, he was into rockets. I cut them from construction paper and laminated them with tape. He often clutched several as he left for home. I later learned that months and years after, he still owned them. Then came cars and trains. I modeled them from Play Doh; he lined them up to admire. I tried to encourage him to try his hand at creating, but he wasn't ready.

By the time he discovered fish, he was able to tell me exactly what size to draw, what color, and how he wanted them to look. Again we laminated, and he took his prized fish home. Eventually he became frustrated that I couldn't create the exact fish he wanted. And finally - after I said "show me" 903 times - he tried his hand at drawing. He showed frustration at first but soon seemed satisfied that his fish were better than mine. Joy! For both of us. I was proud. He has been drawing every day since then. His focus and effort often inspire me to work harder toward my own goals. We have hundreds of his art pieces. I think he considers himself an artist, and I am, again, proud.

Yesterday, when we picked him up from school, Buddy showed Papa and me a schoolyard ant hill. Since a current fascination is bugs, he wanted to collect some. Alas, we had no container. With plans to collect the ants later, we came home to research and make ant farms. In the process, I drew a picture of Buddy peering around our proposed project. He said, "Gaga, I think we should save this one." I loved the authority in his voice and that he wanted to keep my drawing - just like when he was very small. He left our house with it clutched in his hands. Even if it is lost on the car floor, now, I know he liked it.

This may help me past my block.

Blocked - I hate that word

I am jealous. Buddy, my grandson, never seems to experience artist's block. Occasionally he will ask, "Gaga what can I do?" But with a little prompt or presented with new material, his creativity kicks in. Perhaps I need someone to do that for me.

Writing and art instructors like to say - and each seems to think she is the only one to say it - that you "just have to show up." Well, that is not always true.

I show up most every day. Some writing and some paintings don't cut it. They are certainly not inspired work.

Maybe tomorrow.

Meanwhile, here is what I am working on for my writing group assignment:

It Can’t Be Too Late

It can’t be too late
To open that door
And climb the stairs
Of opportunity

To hike a hill
And reach a peak
Achieving
Goals not thought of

To plant a garden
With seeds of wisdom
And watch you grow
In understanding

To paint a portrait
Depicting you
With planes
Of light and shadow

To seize opportunity
And reach the peak
With wisdom
And new insight

It can’t be too late


I can't decide if I need to say "you" or "me." And I don't like the line that says "And watch you grow," although that is what I want to say. I will see if my group can help me tonight.

Just thinking

Reflecting on time with the kids a couple of days ago, I remembered these tidbits from them.

Roo said, "Wow, Gaga, the golf course is abandoned!" I should remind you she is four. Abandoned is big for four. She likes big words, and I like it that she likes big words.

Buddy said later, "Gaga, I learn from watching Tom and Jerry." He smiled and paused. I could tell I was supposed to ask a question.

I said, "Really???"

Buddy said (with a funny little smirk), "Yes, I do. I learn that I don't want to be Tom, and I learn that I don't want to be Jerry." We all cracked up - especially Buddy.

Buddy and Roo somehow discovered (not at my house)Tom and Jerry cartoons and now ask me to find them on the cartoon channel. They say they like the ones with "big explosions." Sound effects follow.

Gourmet club met at our house tonight. One couple, like Papa and me, moved to our town to be child care providers for grandchildren. And, like us, they would not trade a minute of it. How could we not be around to hear their funny stories and conversations, or watch their skills develop?

My hearing is challenged, and I hate it that I don't catch every word the children say.

Homework assigned by GEW

GEW - Rah!

Pouffy and skinny me on the right (Yep, that is a polyester dress I made.)


GEW passed along a homework assignment she completed for a follower of her blog. I am to make a list of seven things I have not mentioned in my blog. Since I haven't blogged very long, my list of interesting (or not) tidbits I could submit is almost endless. But these are the first seven that came to mind:

1. I have to endure looking at old pictures of me with lacquered bouffant hair, blonde Afro hair (because daughter thought her mom would look really cool with that hip hairdo), and an array of other bad dos.

2. When I was about ten, I decorated my huge, rusty, red hand-me-down boy's bike with red and white crepe paper streamers and tobacco leaves to ride in the tobacco parade. This was in the days before I - or most folks - knew that the livelihood of southern farmers could kill you.

3. I used to function fairly well in the academic world. I finished my M.Ed in counseling and then completed almost all the course work for my EdD. I turned down the opportunity to complete my doctorate via independent study - thought I could finish after we moved to Wisconsin with Papa. Not possible.

4. I am GEW's mom and was her high school counselor. I survived her cheerleading years, but barely. As a counselor's kid, she never got special favors - except one. I still laugh to think of the look on her face when she came flying into the guidance office yelling, "Mom! You HAVE to get me out of that trig class." I knew she was right. She and that teacher would not have made it through the year.

5. I was a school counselor and then in private practice. Later, as a pre-retirement folly, I opened a needlework shop and operated it for about twelve years. I taught quilting, embroidery, knitting, and wearable arts. I worked harder than ever and loved it.

6. Papa picked out the house we live in and I didn't see it until I arrived in CA. Now that I have painted most of the walls red, I love it.

7. I used to be skinny. And I didn't know it. I always thought my fanny was too big. I would give almost anything for my old one, now.

Queen Roo

Well so much for a clean studio. We made Barbie clothes, Barbie crowns, and then crowns for Roo and her friend.