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.

Just Neat-o

Okay, well this is just too cool for school and I had to post it. I found it on doobleh-vay and had to try it out on a self portrait that I thought was a loss. I guess it's not a loss.

Just plug in your photo and voila.

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 Goes to the Party, or Big Night

Flying Girl Goes to the Party, or Big Night, 10/17
Golden Fluid Acrylic, Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

She's off to the party. People to see. Mysteries to ponder. Steps to dance.

Behind the mask, she can show the truth.

Beware the words that trip from her tongue, tonight. They may uncover reality. Or spin a tale of dreams.
What is in that cup? What an ominous crystal glass, raised to the sky.
Children go on a Halloween treasure hunt.
And find treats in strange places.
Off in search of more treats... or is it tricks they are hunting?


Stay tuned for the continued festivities. Or head on over to A Fanciful Twist for the rest of the revelers.

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 Things To Do, or Possibilities

Flying Girl and Things To Do, or Possibilities, 10/15/08
Golden Fluid Acrylics

What does a breakthrough feel like when you are in the middle of it?

Something like this.

Well, maybe not like this painting. She seems very together and ordered and focused. Her no-nonsense camel-colored dress, her jaunty hat, her stompin' boots. Still not sure if that thing in her hand is a book or a purse. Whatever it is, it's carrying her plans and ideas. And the brushes in her other ideas are there for her to paint the new ones as they come.

Me, I feel a little confused, a little overwhelmed, a little unsure as to how all my plans will get done. Never quite sure which opportunities are the best to chase. And tired, too. I've been going non stop, until I end up sinking into laziness, then feeling guilty about it.

Maybe I painted this FG to help focus my own intentions. A kind of meditation, if you will.

As an interesting note on process, in the sketch, the clouds started out as flowers. This was supposed to be the enchanted forest, with tiny houses below the blossoms. I saw it in pastels, but when the sketch was complete, I was unsatisfied with the flowers... they were too trite, and being very late, it was too dark and exhausting to go out into the wilds (or city streets) of Florida to find a live reference. So I went with the clouds. Actually, the clouds in Florida are quite spectacular, and I actually shot a photo recently that looks very close to these clouds. It was after a brief, violent rain storm. Then the rain cleared, and there was this heart stopping cloudscape/sunset.

Maybe this FG is after the violent rain storm (of my life right now) and when it clears, the confusion and tempest will be gone, leaving the clarity and beauty of a sky washed clean. Ojala.

Hand and House, 10/15/08
The Big Draw #15
Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

My sketch is another hand. What these hands mean is I didn't draw during the day, or I didn't finish, or I didn't like the drawing or I don't want to share it yet because I drew ideas for FGs that are still in the works. So after I paint, I realize that I still have to draw, and all I have there for a model is my hands.

This one was done on the initial sketch for FG Has Things To Do.

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.