The Word

by | Art, Inspiration, Life, Process | 10 comments

Seems like EVERYWHERE I go in blogland people are talking about ‘the word’. Their word for the upcoming year. Something to focus on, to work towards incorporating into their life on a more profound basis. A word that has special meaning to them.

Well, I want on this train. I want my word. I want to doodle it on sticky notes and post them around my space. I want a journal devoted to MY WORD. One I go into with markers and fancy pens and arty making stuff.

But mostly I want to get a necklace with my word, like the ones Liz Lamoreux makes in her Etsy shop. I want one I want one I WANT ONE!!!

But first I have to have a word.

Oh.

There are approximately fifty-five gazillion words in the English language. How. Do. I. Pick. Just. ONE??? Especially one I will develop a close–no, no, not close, an intimate relationship with.

One I will write about. Dream about. Wear around my neck every day like I’m married to it.

Well, I’ve given it a lot of thought and have whittled the selection down to, umm…maybe a dozen or so worthy contenders. I’ll mull them over for awhile until one just pops out and says ME! Me me, pick ME! And when it does, I’ll let you know.

Or not. Maybe my word will be something I need to hold close as I nurture our relationship. I won’t know until I know.

Meanwhile, in reflecting on this past year, I realize my life word would have to be YES!!! Yes, followed by three exclamation points because one just isn’t enough. This was the year I said YES!!! to lots of things. In fact, I created a blog devoted to it.

And then neglected the blog for the entire month of December. I don’t know why. Taking a little break from enthusiasm, perhaps. Misplaced my YES!!! pompoms.

Whatever. I will get back to it. Soon.

But if I had to pick one word, ONE word, when it comes to art…well, that would be easy. LAYERS. I loves me my layers. Always have. But in 2012 I learned to embrace them. To flaunt them in all their juiciness. Because they take away the fear of a blank canvas. What’s to fear when you get to scribble? To make marks that aren’t going anywhere except under more paint.

And so we’ll begin the new year with a look at some layers and how they morphed into my very latest work-in-progress.

work in progress

This is probably five or six layers in. Working on several canvases at a time, rocking out in Studio Grande.

She dreams of bears

This is where I left it tonight. Not quite finished but getting there. A few more details and it’s done. I’ve been dreaming about bears a lot lately. Checking over my shoulder as I’m out and about on the property, especially at night. They’re definitely on my mind. Scaring the crap out of me, actually. So I’m thinking the title of this one will be ‘She Dreams of Bears’. But maybe not. We’ll see.

Be sure to check my FaceBook page in a day or two for a photo of the finished painting.

In case you’re wondering about all the attribution on the photo, it’s because I’d like people to share and re-pin my work. And I also want people to know where it came from.

Uh-Oh, getting noisy outside. Sounds like midnight on New Year’s Eve, which it is. We sure know how to party here at the Porterosa. Mr. Spouse has been in bed since 10 and I’m sitting here writing my blog.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Wishing you all the BEST in 2013.

 

 

 

Dine ‘n Dash

Dine ‘n Dash

by | Country Living, Porterosa | 12 comments

Early this morning, I mean early, like around 4 when it’s still black as pitch, I stood out on the front porch in my jammies. Jammies in this case being a euphemism for an old T-shirt and finest kind panties from JC Penny. Standard romantic sleepwear after thirty years of marriage.

I stood out there scaring off THE BEAR.

And why would I be doing that?

Because for sure he’d knocked over the recycle can, a bin nearly as tall and far broader than I. It’d been the sound of crashing bottles and cans that woke me up. Then he moved on to the garbage. We’ve done this drill before. He’d rip open the bags, drag them who knows where, leaving a trail of yucky things I’d have to clean up later in the day. Damn bear. Worse than kids when it comes to making a mess.

So as soon as I heard the recycle go, I was out of bed in a flash. I flipped on the driveway lights, stood on the porch and…well, how does one scare off a bear?

Easy peasy. If the sudden glare of the lights and the sight of me in my Penneys panties wasn’t enough for Mr. B, I clapped my hands. Five sharp claps.

He answered through the darkness, a few gutteral grunts.

I clapped again. He grunted again.

And then I went back to bed. Because, really, what else could I do? I rolled in beside Mr. Spouse and told him all about my adventures. He grabbed the blanket, rolled over the other way, muttered something about bears. And then he snored.

But in his own way, I’m sure he was quite impressed.

And after breakfast I restocked the recycle bin, located the remains of the garbage about fifty feet from the scene of the crime, put on some gloves and cleaned up the mess left by Ursus Americanus. And I do hope he enjoyed the turkey burger, the one that spent a couple hours ripening in a hot car on a hot day before finding its way to the trash.

Now, to the age old question, does a bear chit in the woods, the answer is well, I’m sure the one who ate nearly ten pounds of pony psyllium does.

But that was another bear. Another adventure.

And now I’m off to Studio Grande to design my new business cards, paint and have a most productive arty life kind of day.

Have a great weekend! And if you didn’t spend the morning cleaning up someone else’s mess, dearest sweetums, then consider yourself ahead of the game.