The End of The Big Draw, the Beginning of Nanowrimo

Happy Halloween
October 31, 2008
TBD #31

The kids and a friend off on their first trick or treat. G was a ghost, and Ivy was a kitten, as was their buddy. They went to the most amazingest awesomest trick or treat event I have ever seen in my life. Nothing will top it, I'm pretty sure. This neighborhood was Halloween Central and they blocked off some streets for the festivities.And this was just one block, before the sun went down. It was crazy. People had whole scenes set up. Let's just say that they really enjoyed their first Trick or Treat.

TBD #30
Halloween Village "all aboard!"

We rode on a choo choo train on a track around Lakes Park in Florida. It was a beautiful park, but they had also set up these little villages and tunnels and spooky things. It was probably scarier at night, but it was fine the way it was for us.
TBD #29
Sand Town

Kids on the beach. Making sand buildings out of buckets and plastic cups. Ivy was afraid of the sand for some reason, and it got colder as we sat, but still fun.
TBD 28

A drawing of the painting in my hotel room.
#27
Hand Again.

These are the last of my drawings. I have written 2,123 words this morning in my new novel. I like the voice and the tense, but I have to figure out how to balance dialog and action and description. As usual, I use too much exposition. I am working it out, though.

I am really behind here on the blog, though. It has to be expected, taking on so many projects and then taking a break between them.

It remains to be seen how I will be able to manage the whole thing. I do want to sign up for the nablopomo... but when I tried last time, I had some trouble... and you know I am on such a tight schedule that if something takes extra work and time, it might get tossed. I'm still working on it thought, so let's see.

Anyway, thanks for all your well wishes on my break taking. I think it was a good thing, and I did it without any guilt. It remains to be seen if it serves to keep the productivity going as was my intention.

I'm going to try to get back to the Flying Girls, but Halloween, and all it's activity, was a bad day to get it done. I have a couple of ideas rattling around in my head.

See you tomorrow, maybe FG will pop up and surprise us with something new.

Two Flying Girls and A Warrior Girl in Space

Flying Girl in a Strange Land, or "Hey there what ya doin'?"
10/25/08
Golden Acrylic

I have no idea what this means. None. I know I'd been seeing circles and polka dots all day.. from the ripening grapefruits on the tree in my garden, to many spreads in the new Domino magazine that I just got. Also inspired by chalkboards and chalk and graphic numbers/letters. So I know where it comes from but have no idea what is going on. Maybe nothing.Flying Girl Made of Stars, or Constellation
writing: I still believe we are the heavens. Stars in our hot little lives fires. Stories in the Sky.
10/25/08
Golden Fluid Acrylics.

This was leftover paint from the first painting. Too much, couldn't waste it. Had time after number 1 was done while watching SNL. So I kept going. This is based on an old poem I wrote back after 9/11. Oh gosh. Do I have to go find it now and post it?

Oh, all right. I found it. Here it is. I think this is a rougher poem than the one I shared a couple days ago. The ideas have always captured me, but I've never really felt I got it in the poem... not the way I wanted to.

I've Been Searching These Empty Skies

I finally found the constellations
in Manhattan. On the riverside
skyline. Lights burning in windows, burning in hot little lives, fires,
infections.
"goddamn it you bitch!"

connecting the dots between the myths in parchment thin skin
walking around on Broadway, telling the stories brighter.

Big Bear, the Hunter. The Lost Little Girl.

This is a black sky
colder still night
glowing cigarette tip chilled
by the open sky
lips on a fevered neck damped
out by air waves
riverbreeze the peace
between molecules between
wake and dream
one breath
and the next between
breath and breath
breath

and breath.

Stars fly from my mouth like
condensation.

I am not alone.

Fall 2001

Goodness. I am slightly in awe of the way what I am working on now has roots in this poem. I even have a character in my novel whose nick name is "The Hunter." And her real name means "Star Maiden." Oh, yeah. And the working title is "Mythos." Curious.

Brainstorming my nanowrimo novel. Only a week to go!

When you're brainless and confused and you don't know what to do... do a mindmap/spiderweb and figure out what really is in those twisting and turning corridors of your head. Then you can follow different threads of the web and come up with new ideas or note down things that need to be addressed, or go deeper with plot development.

Alien Flora
10/25/08 The Big Draw #25
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

Another way to get my head into the story. Drawing illustrations of some of the strange things I might find on my alien planet. Science Fiction is fun!

I wanted to not spend a lot of time blogging this weekend, but I'm finding I need my process.

I am watching the way I am gearing up for my novel. I can't start nanowrimo on November 1st all cold. It's like jumping into an icy pool. Over my head. Exhilarating, but shocking and possibly dangerous. I work my way up to it. Often in ways that are not visible. My brain starts casting out and about for bits and pieces to feed into my creativity. I struggle with not knowing what to do. I try old techniques that I have used in the past for my creative roadblocks.

Hopefully, when it is time to start going, I will be ready.

This is how I started doing my Flying Girl series, too. I talked about doing the 100 days of sacred art weeks before I really had anything to do. I thought about what it meant. Had discussions with people about it. Scanned blogs and the internet and magazines and life. Started a painting project with a "Hands" series that, really, when I think about it, just served as a warm-up. A dead end, but necessary. I was doing a prompt for Inspire Me Thursday when I think she came alive. And then, there I was in my 100 days.

My next challenge is actually to find a way to write my 50k words in November and still keep my painting going. Perhaps the real challenge is to find a working balance, so I don't burn out and stop writing in December, again. I wonder what it would be like to alternate a day of painting and a day of writing. Would that stave off the burnout?

Flying Girl is Determined, or WWLID?

Flying Girl Looks for the Wild Things, or Imaginations

Flying Girl Looks for the Wild Things, or Imaginations
10/21/08
Golden Liquid Acrylics, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils.

Last night, in the midst of painting the latest FG, I had to ask myself... "Is this the end of Flying Girl?" because, oh, my friends... it was NOT working out? I had to take a break for an hour or two before coming back and painting over the entire background sketch.

Let's just say that those wild things did not want to be found. They wanted to give FG space to fly, and then they hid behind the trees.

I got the idea for this painting while, again, reading bed time stories. This time, Where the Wild Things Are. I thought she would be dancing the wild rumpus, but when I drew it out, it just made me cringe. I don't know why.

Perhaps it's because as an adult, my monsters and fairies are all at a distance. It's not like when I was a child and mermaids swam with me at the shore, or elves lived in the flower blossoms and tall grass I walked through. Now, the fantasy hides in shadows, flits in the corner of my vision, and shows up, fully formed in books, movies and dreams.

Perhaps I, with so many worries and such long to do lists to deal with, have stopped paying attention to the magic of every day life, and so it hides behind the trees, ducking away when I look.

I think of these Wild Things, these imaginary friends, these beasts and characters as my inspiration. They are here, I believe. Maybe not in physical form, but here, nonetheless. And they hide from me, oh yes they do.

What? Am I kidding you? They hide from ME? Who is painting a new picture every night and planning a new novel, and drawing away and playing funtimes with the kids? They hide from me?

Yes. They do.

I pull my hair out sometimes trying to get them to come here. But don't take that as discouragement. It is proof that anyone can do it, if they put their minds to it. If I can do it, with my years of fallowness and my really low natural energy level and my chaotic life and my pushy children, you, too can do it. As long as you believe in yourself, and show up to the canvas/page/keyboard to do it.

Sometimes, the ideas come fast and furiously. And my pen is kept busy as I take notes and sketch out little thumbnail drawings and write out links and save to delicious and do as much as I can to capture the moment of inspiration. Sometimes such brilliant ideas come to me, I am sure they have legs of their own and will simply jump out of my head and dance around, but no. If I don't write those suckers down, they disappear. Sometimes my daily life feeds my inspiration and I am ready to paint when I sit down with my supplies. Sometimes my head is absolutely and irrevocably lonely, nothing alive in there at all, and I cast about in my notebooks and my surroundings and my subconscious for something, anything to paint. Sometimes I have a great idea when I sit down, but it revolts and runs away when I try to capture it in paint.

But I am not giving up. Even when I think the painting is going to die the slow death as I struggle with it, like last night. I don't give up and I take my daily paintings to completion, even if I don't love them. They are still vital. I take them as part of the process instead of beautiful work. I take them as a lesson about what I DON'T want to paint, and turn the next painting in another direction.

Oh, and I forgot about his one. Boredom. I get bored ALL THE TIME. I get sick of FG. And I take that opportunity to develop her in a different direction. Then I get excited again.

Don't forget Exhaustion. I am exhausted every night, but by dragging my butt to the show, I have turned my painting into a routine. I love routines. Forget about the exciting and glamorous artistic lifestyle. I really believe that the career of an artist is one of routine and showing up everyday. It's when the inspiration doesn't strike that you prove yourself to be a serious artist. Anyone can get high on flow and paint for hours, I think. The pain is doing it when you don't want to. Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me stressed. But now I've gotten to the point where if I don't paint every night, I don't know what to do with myself. The discomfort of feeling lost trumps the discomfort of not knowing what to paint.

When you folks come on here and see this crazy output of a painting a day, I am afraid that you think it takes something special and magical to do this. And it does... but it's the same special and magical qualities that you can have too. Yes, I have been painting for most of my life, but that does not signify. I have NEVER been this productive. I have never painted this much, even in my other productive periods. And not only does my history with art feed into this project, even more importantly, my history with living feeds into it. Everyone has their own history with living. Their own symbolism, their own tactics for difficult projects, their own stories to tell, their own abilities to focus, their own characters running around, Wild Things and fairies, waiting to be caught and turned into art.

Hand with Bracelet
The Big Draw #22

This drawing is me just showing up and not playing with my heart. I committed to the Big Draw in October, so I tossed this one off. I'd be surprised if it took me 5 minutes. And I think that's okay. Not everything has to be earth shattering. You can't win the game without showing up. You can't win the game without expecting some losses, right?

Pardon me for the sports metaphors. They are not my usual language, but I am coming to see some value in them for my own needs. Hopefully, it will help me as I tackle challenges and step up to the plate with projects that scare the bejeezus out of me.

Flying Girl Has Stayed Too Late at the Party, or Jump

Flying Girl Has Stayed Too Late at the Party, or Jump
10/20/08
Golden Fluid Acrylics

This painting comes from the Illustration Friday prompt, "Late." The first thing that popped into my head was the White Rabbit, oh my ears and whiskers, I'm late, I'm late. I think that was my HS yearbook quote. At the very least, it was the runner up. Then I thought, nah. And the second thought was "I'm Late," as in, hello baby, as in, infant, not hot tamale. And I thought, nah. Then I thought about what really felt late to me... that moment in the night when the sky feels softer, when the light begins to creep in, and the birds begin to sing, and you think, ohmygoodness, am I still out from the night before. You either feel like staying up and making chocolate chip cookies, or guilt ridden, as if you have wasted something precious.

These IF prompts are interesting, because they often take me out of my immediate life. Sometimes it becomes a conceptual thing. Sometimes it's about the past. Sometimes it could be a statement about society.

This painting is a combination of those things. Aside from being the person who always stays too long at social gatherings, because, I think, I don't know how to let go, this illustrates something I believe about change.

Sometimes we have to be smacked in the face that the world is changing for us to let go of the comfort of the past and dive into the unknown of the future. You see, the party is so much fun, why shouldn't it last forever? Except it can't. And the sun rises and you are reminded that shoes and martinis and glamour and excess are the way we burn out, if not given some balance with something deeper.

So here is the lotus, calling FG to jump out of her easy partiness, and leap towards the journey that is really hers.

Yes, I do think that's what's happening in America and the world, lately. Party is over. People didn't want to stop. Well, the universe gave us a kick in the butt, and now it's fall or fly in the new order of things.

I must be in a strange frame of mind, because my TBD piece is even weirder than my philosophizing.
Shed
10/20/08 The Big Draw #20
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens, Black Gesso. Gel Pen.

Oh, shoot. I forgot the words I was going to write in there. Oh well. I think it was going to say something like, "when the time comes, we must shed our confining skin," in white gel pen on the black gesso. Hopefully using less words than that.

It's pretty random, I think, but that's good, because it fits with a tag that I recieved from Karen at Beelieve. I have been asked to share six random things

1. I don't know how to drive. Yes, I am almost 38. It's lame. I always took the subways and never had a car in the years I lived in NYC and so never learned. I keep meaning to take care of that while I'm here in Florida, but other things keep cropping up.

2. I went to the High School of Music and Art, also known as Fiorello H. LaGuardia H.S. of Music and the Arts, which contains two schools... Music and Art and Performing Art (yes, the Fame school) and I received most of my formal art education in that school.

3. I am left handed and right brained, and I think these are two facts that contribute to my not being able to tell which is left and which is right unless I think about it very carefully. Also, addition, reading a clock, and the alphabet (despite working in a library for 8 years while in school).

4. I am afraid of heights, deep water, tsunamis, and zombies... but not irrationally so. I mean, I can get over it, but I definitely have to steel myself for it. Okay. The zombie thing is pretty irrational, I just can't help myself.

5. I have one tattoo, two piercings in each ear, one in my nose, and I used to have one in my eyebrow that I only took out last year. I would get more tattoos, but the first one took 7 years of planning and sketching and procrastination until I got it on the day I presented my Master's Thesis and earned my degree. I take these things very seriously. ;)

6. Uhmm. I'm running out of things since I am always saying random things. When I am in the city, one of my favorite places (among the museums and subways and parks and cafes) is a rooftop. Almost any rooftop. I love to sit up there and look at the sky and the buildings and feel the air and the peace in the chaos, and maybe flirt a little with my fear of heights... although I am very careful about getting close to the edge. And if I see someone else getting close to the edge, I will panic a bit. Interesting that the FG today is on a rooftop.

Okay, that was 6. Here are the rules.

Tag rules: Link to the person who tagged you. Post the rules on your blog. Write 6 random things about yourself. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them. Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted

And I will tag...
Marta, Kate, D'arcy, Marisa, Jena, Cliodhna

Flying Girl Sometimes Suffers from Anxiety, or Nervous

Flying Girl Sometimes Suffers from Anxiety, or Nervous
10/18/08
Golden Fluid Acrylic and Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens.

This was the Inspire Me Thursday prompt, Nervous. I actually wanted to make her much less nervous, inside of a calm bubble, in that chaotic world. It didn't work out. Flying Girl is nervous, there is no way to pretend serenity.

Maybe that's okay. There is nothing wrong with the various states of being. No one is bad for feeling anxiety. Maybe if we can admit to our own anxiety (depression, neurosis, egotism, obsessiveness or whatever imbalance we have), then we can get closer to balance.


Striped Flying Girl Grins 10/18/08
The Big Draw #18
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

For instance, this grinning flying girl fully accepts her own uglies. She embraces them and in the face of them, is beautiful. Watch out if she asks you to dance, though... you might be in for a wild ride.

Interestingly, Ivy was watching me while I drew her. If I went too near the stripes, to try to fix them or add a detail, she would cry, "noooo." Hm. I think she liked the stripes. I might be raising me a little baby fashionista. She does love her accessories.Jarett Monster and the Cupcake, 10/18/08
The Big Draw 18
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pen.

This is Striped Flying Girl's little brother. He was actually the first striped monster to be drawn, before stripey FG. He was inspired by an old student of mine, who used to draw these monsters with barred teeth. Years later, I would find graffiti scattered about NYC of his monsters and I knew the Jarrett Monster had been there.

My Jarrett monster is not quite at ease with his uglies... as he hasn't quite learned to understand them, yet. But if you give him a cupcake, he will be very happy.

Sometimes all we need is a cupcake.

What is your cupcake of choice that helps you through your uglies? I think mine is fun tv. So You Think You Can Dance, or Heroes, or America's Next Top Model... escapist stuff. Maybe I shouldn't paint during those shows, multi tasking my night into anxiety, but just have a cupcake, and enjoy.

Tricks, and a Little Inspiration

And so... the Halloween festivities continue, as treats turn to tricks and ghosts dance about the courtyard. An eerie music plays as the sun goes down and other guests come out of the jungle...

Magnus Otto de Fluegelhorn, 10/17/08
The Big Draw #17
Chalk on slate paving stone.

Here we have Magnus Otto de Fluegelhorn. Carrying his favorite trick, a ray gun.
Gustave Machanado E Pluribus Consuelo 10/17/08
The Big Draw #17
Chalk on slate paving stone.

And here, dancing with one of the guests of honor, Ivy, we have Gustave Machanado E Pluribus Consuelo. He is borrowing Magnus' ray gun and pulling his pants up to his chin, which makes him slobber quite horribly. Please don't mention it, he gets testy when people mention it. Thus the ray gun. You may find yourself de-atomizing.
Sulgie, 10/17/08
The Big Draw #17
Chalk on cement paving stone.

This is Sulgie. He doesn't talk much. But he does growl. And run around, waving his many arms about. Watch out for him. He is very contagious. If you spend too much time with him, you might run about growling, waving your pitiful few arms about your head, too.

Uh oh, Gabriel. Looks like it's too late for you. You've contracted the dread Sulgie Monster disease. Whatever shall we do? Even Uncle Spooky heard about your problems and decided to stop by to commiserate. He contracted Sulgie Monster Flu years ago and has never been the same since. (Naturally, he didn't frighten monster Gabriel, but Ivy did show signs of Bunniness.)

Luckily, there's a spirit who makes his home in our house. Generally, he goes about in the guise of a black cat and doesn't bother much with us humans, but around Halloween time, his powers manifest and he deigns to interfere in the ways of mere mortals. We only know his mundane name, Pooty Tat, but he, in his nameless gelical ways, chased off the evil spirits of the Sulgie Flu, and both Gabriel and Uncle Spooky... who will now go about as just plain "uncle," are resting peacefully, free from Sulgie Flu.

As a note to Flying Girl Goes to the Party, or Big Night, I wanted to show you my inspiration. I actually had many ideas for inspiration for this painting, knowing as I did that it would be posted on the Halloween Party night, but the day of, I found this magazine page and knew this is what I wanted to do. I wish I had noted what this page was about, or even which magazine it came from. I believe it is the inspiration of a famous designer, but I don't remember who. Gaultier? Yves St Laurent? I don't know. I remember it was a man, and it's possible the dashing man next to my harlequin is him as a young man. Does anyone know who he might be? Or do you recognize the layout, even the magazine? I really need to keep track of this stuff.

I'm sorry that I didn't get to do my usual narrative with my painting, but my mom was here to take us on a small jaunt, and I wanted to get something out before the end of the day. It's the Halloween party, you know. Check it out on A Fanciful Twist and look at her blog roll for the attendees. Or, heck, do a post of your own Halloween Party and just jump in.

That's what Flying Girl is doing, you know. No longer being trapped by her own secret hermitness. No wall flower is she, as long as she's behind her mask. But any way, she's finally decided she wants to play, instead of sitting on the side lines.

But what key is that in her hand?

What lock is waiting for her?

Flying Girl in Bohemia, or La Gitana

Flying Girl in Bohemia, or La Gitana 10/16/08
Golden Fluid Acrylic

I'd been wanting to paint a gypsy flying girl for a while, a kind of reference to a painting I did a long time ago, but I could never find a way in. Then I followed a link somewhere and ended up at a wikipedia reference of bohemian. And there was the way in. Aside from the description of a bohemian being kind of embarrassingly like my lifestyle, the Renoir painting of The Bohemian let me into the picture.The striped skirt and white peasant blouse, the long coils of hair. In the end, I am not completely satisfied. I think the more realistic background does not mix very well with the more conceptual figure, and the colors don't harmonize quite well. And maybe I would like to try the black hair, although I chose the brown to echo the stripes. Maybe she belongs in a different setting. I might try a gypsy again. Maybe this is the wrong project for the gypsy, maybe she belongs in a different series.

I don't know. I'm looking at painting in a different light now, though. I don't know if it's the month long Flying Girl project (which, I think I've actually achieved if I count up the days), or if it's my growth as a person where I have learned that valuable ideas don't go away but keep returning, but each painting is a part of a process. Even if the individual painting is a not quite success, what we learn from them might be more valuable. Sometimes the failure painting is important for the step to the next project.

It is hard to know where these little steps are going. Maybe that's the connection to the Gitana gypsy girl and the tarot card in her hand. The small hint of guidance, a little bit of an oracle to give us guidance on the next step in our journey.I'm Tired Hand, 10/16/08
The Big Draw #16
Prismacolor Watercolor Pencil

Self explanatory, I would like to say, but if this post is a bit disjointed or confusing, let's just say that the sleep schedule, in fact my whole daily schedule got out of whack today. I decided to switch up my naptime creativity and worked on my novel outline for an hour and a half right after putting the kids down. Great idea, I managed three pages and reviewed some old work BUT the boy rejected a nap, and stayed playing in his room, and then woke up the girl and now they are both up and I am trying to write this while they watch Beauty and the Beast. The girl, in particular is cranky and crying and I'm sure the boy will pass out early, which means my plans for my Halloween Party evening will go right out the window.

A routine is all well and good, but I think we have to remember that life is not always routine and sometimes things go off in their own direction. I'm going to just take it as it comes, and if I'm too exhausted to carve pumpkins tonight, or the boy needs an early bedtime, well, so be it. It's okay.

Flying Girl and the Night of Brooklyn Poetry, or Blackout

Flying Girl and the Night of Brooklyn Poetry, or Blackout 10/14/08
Golden Fluid Acrylic

When the lights went out that summer night, we first thought of the previous September, a day of fear and fire. Then, some people must have thought of the black out of 77, famous for riots and danger. But that night, when the lights went out, the stars came out.

People sat on their stoops and welcomed neighbors. People pooled their freezers and had cookouts in their back gardens, inviting the whole building. People sat on fire escapes and wrote poetry by candle light. People climbed to roof tops and watched the stars. People walked across a whole city to sleep on friends' sofas when they could walk no more. People too walks of camaraderie around the neighborhood, listening to updates on transistor radios as they passed. People sang songs and danced dances and laughed laughs of peace.

No disaster.

Sometimes we need to turn off the lights to see the light inside. Sometime we need be lost to find our path. Sometimes we need to be lonely to find ourselves. Sometimes we need to lose our financial security to learn what is really worth giving our lives to.

No disaster.

Revelation.
Hand and Paint, 10/14 11:30 pm
The Big Draw #14
Pen, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

words say:
I have always loved when
the paint stains cover my
hands. It makes me feel like
there is proof of my being an artist.
Never mind the paintings, it's the paint
on my skin that makes me feel real.

I love this drawing for some reason.

Flying Girl Finds Her Superpowers and They Are Plain Old Her, or Hero

Flying Girl Finds Her Superpowers and They Are Plain Old Her, or Hero 10/13
Golden Fluid Acrylics.

Yesterday I didn't want to paint. I was tired. Tired of always having to find something weighty and philosophical to paint about. Tired of needing to be deep. Tired of working.

However, I did not want to not paint, because, I think, it makes me feel good. At least once I've passed that ugh-I-hate-this phase. Also, it has become part of my routine now, and if I didn't write, I might just have sat there, feeling as if my hands were empty and I was missing something.

So, instead of moaning or wracking my brain for something challenging, I went simple and fun. Maybe it's something I need to do every couple of weeks... remind myself to lighten up and have fun.

So I thought... Superhero! Complete with cape in that classic old comic book style. I was thinking the bright red and blue thing, but that is maybe my least favorite color scheme. So then I thought "The Dark Knight" and the skyline of Metropolis on a cloudy night, and I thought... monochrome! Woohoo! A SuperFlyingGirl is born.

And that is all. Sometimes we don't have to stretch our abilities to find the super. Sometimes we are super just the way we are. No need for otherworldly powers or being better than anyone or everyone else. Just be Us. Yay Us.
The Purple Hulkette and PooPoo Man, 10/13/08
The Big Draw #13
Pen, Gel Pens

writing: The Purple Hulkette. You won't like me when I'm angry.
Poo Poo Man. I fart in your general direction.

These are my sidekicks. Or are they my nemeses? Don't know.

By the way, that is G's real superhero. He made it up. He gave him fart power. He runs around making fart noises and pointing them in your general direction. I am not making it up. I did make Ivy's up. Although it's based in baby tantrum land. Woe be to the mommy who denies Purple Girl what she wants.

I'm going to try to be short with this post, because a) I think I post too long, and b) I need to fit writing into my short schedule and am overwhelmed as it is.

After looking at my schedule yesterday, I have come to some conclusions. I really can't cut housework down any farther than I already have. The internet must be curtailed, so if I am not around as much for the next 6weeks or so, that is why. I still would like to continue posting and commenting when I can, but the browsing must go kaput. I'd also still like to keep painting during November. I don't know if it's possible to do it everyday when I am also writing 2000 words or so everyday, too. It will be a challenge.

And I am gearing up for it. In fact, I'm going to go and work on my nanowrimo novel outline right now.

Flying Girl and the Daily Bread, or Mott and Prince Streets

Flying Girl and the Daily Bread, or Mott and Prince Streets
Golden Fluid Acrylic, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

Hello Flying Girl. I see you are going about your errands today. That looks like a tasty loaf of bread and is that a latte I see you drinking? I love your jaunty beret and scarf. That is a darling dress you are wearing, with it's cozy wool knit and black buttons. I especially like the pleated cuffs and hem. And I must admit, dear Flying Girl, I miss wearing heels. Not even heeled boots, as you wear, are very functional when you are chasing toddlers and stopping tantrums and climbing stairs carrying squirming children. Neither are dashing red hoops that little children would like to yank. And never mind the fact that I am in a place without an autumn and your outfit would make me sweat like mid summer.

How is your day of errands going? I know that place where you fly. I used to live around the corner. The brick wall of the old church garden really does slope like that. And those trees in the church yard really do turn that fantastically brilliant shade of yellow/orange. Perhaps my nostalgia will fly away with you as you continue on in your errands. Are you going to the bookstore to read magazines? Perhaps you're going to sit in a cafe in Greenwich Village, stare out the window at passersby and write in your journal. Maybe you're going to meet friends for brunch, and you're bringing the bread and cheese and fruit.

Fly off, Flying Girl. I know you are busy I am too.
Doodle, The Big Draw #12
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

This is a doodle I made while I was waiting for FG's paint to dry. There are many layers, especially in the trees... in part because she was supposed to be riding a bicycle, which, I realize, I don't know how to draw. I tried, using a reference even, but she did not come out right at all, and rather than struggling all night, since I do need to sleep, I decided to scrap the bike and keep her flying, as usual. The idea is there anyway. And I could focus on her style. Style is very important in Fall. You finally get to put away the flip flops and tank tops and take out the sweaters and jackets, boots and scarves. A little bit of my fashion dreaming, this is. And A little bit of my memory dreaming. Wishing, perhaps, that this was what my errands looked like now.

My daily schedule is more like this.

Wake up when the boy comes into my room.
Try to get him to leave me alone and play or read for a little while so I can wake up without blurry eyes and tripping over my own two feet with a head full of sleep dust.
Go get Ivy out of her crib and try to get them both to stay in the room while I go to the bathroom to dress and freshen up.
Take everyone downstairs for coffee or milk, cheerios and fruit.
Eat breakfast while the kids watch PBS (they love Sid the Science Kid) and I check my email and google reader.
Play with kids, watch Sesame Street, make their lunch.
Maybe a picnic, maybe an activity before or after lunch or during. Maybe in the garden, maybe in the family room.
Put kids to nap.
Shower (maybe)
Make myself lunch and eat while checking googlereader and/or blog comments.
Take yesterday's paintings out to the porch to photograph
Upload photos while picking up toys from the family room.
Upload photos to blog while sweeping and/or cleaning kitchen
Write blog entry, praying kids stay asleep until I finish.
When kids get up, play or activity or draw or garden or whatever.
Make dinner (usually while they are either in the garden or watching pbs/movie.
Have dinner.
Play in garden or family room while drinking bedtime milk and maybe a cookie.
Bath, book bedtime routine at which point it's about 7:45 and I
Go back downstairs to clean up whatever mess has been made.
Have a heath klondike bar, feeling like I need it like a shot of whiskey or something.
Check email, blogreader, comments while watching tv.
Sketch out FG while watching tv.
Set up on the couch with my bag of artsupplies
(This is them right here. Paints in the beach bag, sketch book, markers in a makeup bag. Pencils in their tin. Brushes in a placemat holder.)
Paint FG while watching primetime tv and maybe into the syndicated sitcoms.
Decompress for a few minutes to many minutes.
Clean up paints, brushes. Put everything back in the bag.
Turn off lights and close the door so the opinionated cat doesn't do any leavings of "opinions" on the couch throw.
Head up stairs, get ready for bed.
Check on kids, put boy back in bed since he likes to sleep on the floor.
Go to bed.
Read a few pages/chapters in whatever book I'm reading.
Turn off light.
Punch pillows to get comfortable, pull blankets up.
Fall asleep until it starts all over again.

Anyone want to know how I am productive as I am? This is how. Too much tv, too much coffee, multitasking, a pretty set schedule, and not much socializing. The days are occasionally interrupted by other things, but this is, by and large, my day. Now that I think about it, I need to find a place in that day to fit in writing. It really needs to be there for me, but Nanowrimo is coming, and it won't happen unless I build it in to my schedule.

Do you have a routine that helps you be creative?

Flying Girl Out Beyond Ideas, or Field

Flying Girl Out Beyond Ideas, or Field
Golden Fluid Acrylics. Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field.

I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down
in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language
- even the phrase “each other” -
do not make any sense.

-Rumi

This painting was inspired by the above poem, the prompt for InspireMeThursday this week. I think it's a pretty literal interpretation of the poem, actually and not much is needed for interpretation.

But it was not easy to paint. I wanted it to feel kind of dreamy, because it is about a concept, not about an actuality, but I also didn't want it to be too vague. Plus, I had issues with the male figure. For a while, it just looked like a chalk outline at a murder scene. Not really the idea I was going for. And of course, a little house was added in last. I have houses on the brain, I guess. It asked to be put there, though. When I was almost done, that blank hill wanted a house, so I obliged.

Here, FG is wearing a white sundress and leather wrap sandals and red beads. I wonder if the way FG is dressing up is a reflection of my returning attention to style? I don't dress like that, it's far too unpractical with peanut butter smeared hands about, but I wouldn't mind playing with clothes and shoes and jewelry again. I think I am beginning to. I guess FG is too. It makes her less conceptual, I think, and more real. That's not a bad thing. But I'm not bound to the idea of fashion Flying Girl. Sometimes it's okay to just be a shadow, or an aura, and not wear a flower in your hair.

Flying Girl in the Tree Tops, or Silhouette
The Big Draw #11
Black Pen, Golden Fluid Acrylics

And here she is, back to a shadow. I like this one. I have always loved silhouettes, the way branches or lamp posts or buildings are shadowed against a sky. This drawing is a conglomeration of many ideas. First of all, the background is from days ago, when I had mixed too much paint for another FG and didn't want to waste it, because I'm cheap... uh, thrifty. So I covered a blank page with what was left, figuring I could come back and fill it in. Even though I often don't come back to an old page in my journal. I am always going forward.

But then, my kids were watching the Disney version of Robin Hood (with the foxes as Robin and Maid Marian) and for one shot, they were in the woods, and all you could see was this pattern of silhouetted leaves behind them. I gasped. How lovely. And filed the idea away in my brain for a time when I needed something to do. Then, as I was flipping around in my journal, there was my sky, painted already for my branches to be outlined against, and I just started drawing.

It's kind of shaky and smudgy. I did most of it while watching the kids, so I was often interrupted and sometimes being climbed upon. My hand picked up the wet ink and transferred it to the clean page. The lines wiggled about and there often spaces where there shouldn't be.

But you know what? That imperfection really goes with who I am. Not only am I a recovering perfectionist who needs to remember that nothing is perfect and good enough is often just dandy, but I also really like the lived in and loved in look. I like battered things. Things thrown out to be salvaged by someone else. Things bent and aged with finger prints. Not fixer uppers, things with character and personality.

This is a drawing that could not have been done by Disney's studios. Too messy. It could not have been done by a computer. This is done by an imperfect hand with much else to do. If I left a fingerprint on it, it's because it is who I am.

Flying Girl Where the Heart Goes, or Strings

Flying Girl Where the Heart Goes, or Strings
Golden Fluid Acrylics, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

This comes from a few different places. First I saw this piece by Elsita, then I was sitting in a room with my kids running in and out of the rooms of the house, and it almost felt as if little pieces of me were running with them, my attention, my mind, my sanity, my heart. Then, the Illustration Friday prompt ended up being "strings" and I was amazed, because I had already been planning this and the connection was immediate. Maybe I shouldn't be amazed, There has been an awful lot of synchronicity going on in cyberspace lately. Perhaps everyone is dealing with a lot of the same things, or a lot of the same ideas. I don't know, but I see connections all over the place. Maybe that goes to this painting, too. The way our subconscious mind takes in information from all over, and perhaps the way we also send out our signals without knowing we are.

Although the image of this painting was clear in my mind, the execution of the painting was, shall we say, frustrating. First of all, doing these paintings is beginning to feel like work. When you live up to a commitment that you make, no longer going along according to whim or inspiration, it gets hard sometimes. And yet, if you live by your word, you have to do it anyway.

It's kind of like love. No one hates that first blush of love when all is in accordance and the attraction runs high, just like art and inspiration. It's when that other person starts blowing their nose, or sits around watching tv gorging on chips or you really just want to be left alone that love starts to get difficult. It's when it love/art feels like a constraint that you are getting into the real meat of it.

So I sat down not wanting to paint, and did it anyway. There are probably half a dozen layers of paint on that background there. Too dark, too light, too yellow, too contrasty. Blegh. I fussed and fussed and fussed and hated it. I truly thought it would not work out. I gave up on finding perfection with the columns/walls/floors and just stuck in some intriguing windows. That was interesting. Then I put in FG. Then I decided to dress her up and make her more figurative. She's wearing heels, even. But when I painted in the hair, and had the idea to give her that Veronica Lake swoop that the whole painting just fell into place.

It's so strange that such a small detail would make it work. Then I put in the vines and worked on some details and that was it.

To tell the truth, I am still a little uncomfortable with it. Something about the colors doesn't seem all the way there, but there is also something that I really like about it. So I'm going with the good, and letting go of the not so good and letting the work stand as it may. Like love.

Hey. I bet you didn't know that I didn't MEAN to make all the references to love, even though it's FG Where the Heart Goes. That was a total coincidence. Well, not a coincidence, I'm sure. The mind is a powerful force, especially when you're not really paying attention to what it is doing. It sneaks around.

Maybe part of the reason why it is able to do that is because I am busy thinking about so much. All the things I have to do. Conversations I need to have. Trips I have to make. Things the kids are doing or need to do or aren't doing. The future, the past, the present. The dishes and the cheerios. Maybe that's why FGs Heart goes in and out of so many different paths.

Maybe that is also why I drew this for The Big Draw.
Juggling. The Big Draw #10
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pen

Do you need me to explain? Sorry for the wonky picture, though. I wanted to make sure the little unicycling guy would be in there. I kept the scallop pattern from FG Goes In, but alternating color made it almost look as if it is a harlequin pattern. And notice that the different size pattern in figure and background keeps them from competing. It doesn't hurt that the figure pattern is a heavier line. It's the balance between dark/light, large/small, organic/geometric that keeps things from getting mushy and confusing. Also the blank page gives your eye somewhere to rest.

What do you think about drawing in blue. Fun, huh? Where did I see a drawing in blue yesterday? I've got to be better at marking these things down.

If there are wiggly lines in this drawing, it is because I literally had a little girl hanging off of my limbs. She probably would have liked it if I had thrown her up in the air and juggled her... but my back would decidedly not have liked it.

On a fun and happy note. I just received a lovely print by the lovely Mati Rose. It's my first win at a giveaway, ever. Very exciting. I feel my luck changing already, thanks to this Little Lucky Elephant. Thanks again Mati, a big hug and kiss from me (and the boy who tried to steal it for his own). I really adore it and can't stop staring at it. It's inspiring me to get my desk area together.

Flying Girl Goes In, or Wonderland

Flying Girl Goes In, or Wonderland 10/9/08 (hey! 10,9,8! countdown.)
Golden Fluid Acrylic, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencil, White gel pen

So last post, I didn't know where FG would go, and last night when I sat down to paint, I still didn't know. I had a few ideas culled from my extensive blog reading, but none to hold a painting down. If you recognize your own influence, you're probably right. Honestly, I sat for an hour or so without putting pencil to paper. (enjoying using those watercolor pencils for undersketching) before I finally committed. I looked back at previous paintings to let her guide me. Where to next, after the deep sea? And I thought it was time to leave the sea. And what came up was inside. Indoors. Yes the first indoor FG. At first there was just a simple room with a plain window and steps leading up. But I didn't like it. Actually, the appearance of the door and stairs going down was the first sign to me that this painting was indeed going to work. FG herself started out more abstract, then more realistic, then back a step into partly conceptual.

But it just seemed so plain and bare and seemed to be missing something, so the wall detail went in, and then the sheer curtains. Then the sea outside the window. Then some flower details in the dress, the ribbon, definition in the hair, the waves on the ocean, the boat out at sea, and lastly... the little mushrooms in the corner. The last was the detail that made it come together for me.

This is about earth. Flying Girl has entered her earth adventure. I suppose it's not a coincidence that the stairs went from going up to going down, deeper. Symbolically speaking, the earth could be about fertility, because that is what enables plants to grow. It could also mean the past... those things that are buried. Another reading is the practical. Earth is the most practical and solid of the elements.

This painting definitely feels like a transition to me. Leaving the sea, entering through the window, and then that doorway to the new land. She's ready, I suppose to handle things she has never done before, up there in the sky.

Somehow, I think something led her to abandon her boat and fly in through the window. Perhaps the sight of a white rodent, hopping away. Is she trying to find the elusive creature, the intrigue, the way?

Funny. These interpretations I'm doing almost feel like I'm reading tarot cards. My own tarot cards, born out of my psyche. Maybe that's what's with all the recent paintings and drawings and 3D houses. I've always thought of houses as being representations of our minds, anyway.
House, The Big Draw #9
Pen, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencil

Maybe that's why I went with this drawing for The Big Draw. Also it is reminiscent of the houses I used to draw when I was 8 or so. My little cross sections. Also, maybe it's a bit of a way to visualize where I want to be. A little house, some outside space, a studio, a garden. Simple.

Maybe also the past was on my mind, as I saw around blogland various delvings into the past. Infact, inspired by Dragonfly Reflections, I decided to post an old photo.
circa 1971

That little one is me. The other one is my mom. It's funny to think how young she was, no more than 26 or so.

A little delving into the basement, perhaps.

Oh yeah. Remember that old saying? The way in is the way out.

Hm.

Flying Girl and the Big Wave, or Tsunami AND Flying Girl Follows Her Teachers, or Fish

Flying Girl and the Big Wave, or Tsunami 10/8/08
Golden Liquid Acrylics, Prismacolor Watercolor Pencil

Unlike the night before, where I had no ideas for a painting but jumped anyway, last night, I was flooded with ideas. I had no less than THREE sketches before I sat down with my paint.

Which to choose? The more challenging one, with more details, and a newer style, which was, however, slightly undefined? This one, with the wave, that was slightly scary? Or the final one, a simple idea based on some newspaper clippings with an idea I had been thinking about for days?

In the end, I went with the one that gave me that squoonch in my stomach. I happen to be afraid of tsunamis. Even large surf at a beach makes me dizzy. And yet, I've had the metaphor of "riding the wave" for many months to help me through all sorts of struggles and triumphs.

This was a pretty easy painting. I did an underdrawing with the watercolor pencils, and it led me to the blue sky. I wanted the green water, but I actually had a lighter color in mind that I just didn't have anymore. (Have to put in an order to Dick Blick.) So I treated the acrylic more like watercolor, with a thin wash over green watercolor pencil. I am okay with the effect, although it wasn't really what I was going for. It is interesting enough.

I did struggle with the land image for a while, originally drawing in a boat without land. But before I painted it, I switched to a little house. Perhaps I was influenced by the previous houses I'd drawn. Perhaps by this house,
that I created yesterday on a whim from a Cheerios box. Which was a prompt for Inspire Me Thursday. The paperbag tree was inspired by maya*made's mushrooms. I just thought I needed a tree more than a mushroom for my little diorama. And I get a kick out of the bookshelf setting. Sorry about the dark picture. It was late when I took it and I hate flash. Back to the story.

I'm not sure what made me switch from the boat to the house, but I liked the switch. Maybe it is my fear of tsunamis that makes me feel a little house on the coast is vulnerable. It doesn't even have to be a tsunami, just a big storm. My friend used to have a little beach cottage in Montauk, Long Island and I was always terrified that the dune would wash away and the house would fall into the sea. It wasn't even my house.

I like to think of Flying Girl as protective in this picture. As warrior-like. In fact, for much of the painting, she wielded a sword, first fire white, then fire red. But neither seemed right for the composition. And I had an issue with the silliness of trying to keep a wave back with a sword. That doesn't even work metaphorically.

So I painted the sword out, and had to let her stand (or fly) the way she was. Then I was done with my painting, and it was still early, and I still had syndicated sitcoms to watch, so I turned the page to my next Flying Girl idea, still knowing that I needed to do my Big Draw drawing.

I kept the green, because, hey, it was underwater. Painted everything flat colors and then.... wanted more. So I took out my artist pens and drew on it. I drew all over it, although remembering my lessons from my previous two paintings, I wanted to stay away from too much pattern so I left the water flat. Then I realized that this Flying Girl was indeed my Big Draw entry. Because it's all drawn, except for the background color, and that's allowed.
Flying Girl Follows Her Teachers, or Fish
The Big Draw #8
Golden Liquid Acrylic, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens, Y&C Gel Xtreme Pens.

Then I took out my white gel pen. I love those things, and that added even more texture to the detail in the fish and the coral and the seaweed. In fact, it made them come to life. I added in a few bubbles and some rocks (at the far bottom, that's not a smudge) and voila, done.

Then I looked back at my paintings and I saw that it was indeed, again, like two panels of a story. Here is the wave, threatening. Then apparently, FG has been overwhelmed and drawn below the waves...

But she is not drowning. She is there to learn from the fish.

Here is a lesson: Find the lesson, even in disaster. Learn. Discover. Grow. Become strong.

I wonder where she is going next? Is she still on a water adventure, as she has been for the last few days? Will she step on land? Find fire? Fly in the air once again. I'm seeing an elemental theme here.

You'd think I'd be in control, but it's a mystery to me.

Flying Girl and No Landmarks, or Unknown

Flying Girl and No Landmarks, or Unknown 10/7
Golden Liquid Acrylics, Holbein Gouache

When I started this painting, I asked myself, "Do you trust yourself enough?"

I was going in without sketches, without a grand concept, without a color scheme. Just a vague idea of storytelling with those aborigine journey/dream paintings. I hesitated with the blank page, jittering nerves, not wanting to screw it up, knowing I'd have to post it. Then I jumped in and I just painted.

Also in my mind was the vague idea of being underwater, or being in space. Or perhaps it's an internal, dream journey, not an external one at all.

Maybe there's a lesson in here, after all?

What do we do when we don't have landmarks to clearly guide us in our journeys? When we are off the grid of the life we have expected? What happens when we step off that ledge of security and take the leap into the unknown?

Do we trust ourselves to be able to handle what happens? Do we trust our own ability to make choices?

The unknown is scary. Are you saying yes and leaping? Or backing down, looking to the known, the safe, the understood. There's a choice here. Neither are bad choices. Safe isn't bad. It's a valid choice. We don't all have to leap as if we have wings. But safe doesn't take us out of our comfort zone. Safe can lead to a world of happiness and ease. But the unknown... it can challenge us to reach new heights, and get farther still on our path to the future.
The Big Draw #7, 10/7/08
Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

To change the subject, I don't know if there can be anything safer... a sketch of the flowers on my bedside table.

What? You don't see it?

Oh that's right. It's a blind contour drawing, where you draw on the page without looking at what you are drawing, only at the object. Actually, this kind of fits with the Unknown, No Landmark theme. Because when you're drawing blind, you don't know how this line is laying next to the last one, or where this line is in relation to the other. That is probably why I drew the top of the flowers on one side of the page, and the vase that held them on the other side. Well, I did look before I did that, and maybe twice before, when my pen fell off the paper or I finished a section of flowers.

I like blind contour drawings. They are fun to do. You just have to get rid of the belief that art has to look like what you're drawing, or that it has to be perfect. You have to practice drawing with a bold hand and make decisive choices, even if you can't see what these choices look like.

That's a lot like life, sometimes, huh?

And when you go back to drawing with your eyes open, you can take what you learned through your blindness, and create your next piece with the same bold decisive line, the same attention to detail and contour, the same expression. It's a very cool exercises, and often the results make you laugh.