by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life |
It was a dark and stormy day, this day before the day before Christmas. Or the day after the day after the solstice, however you want to look at it. The wind was HOWLING, like it was coming to getcha, the rain was sheeting sideways and then the power went out. A cold, blustery, sucky kind of day.
But with four skylights, three walls of windows and the foresight to warm the place up early, Studio Grande didn’t need no stinkin’ power.
So I painted.
And scribbled.
And ended up with layers and layers of background on three canvases. Three canvases ready and waiting. But you only see two here. Trust me, there are three.
Sometime during the afternoon the power came back on. Sometime during the evening I reminded Mr. Spouse about leftover chili in the fridge he could nuke when he got hungry. Sometime around 8:30 I wandered back home, had an apple and cheese, some tea and Christmas cookies and stretched out alongside Mr. Spouse on the sofa.
We watched the reflection of the Christmas tree lights on the blank screen of the TV. Chatted about this and that. Precious Man Dog (AKA Bean) traveled along the top of the sofa cushions, climbed across Mr. Spouse and squeezed in between us. Sophie came from the other direction, crawled over me and began chewing on her brother. They wrestled atop us before spilling down to the floor.
All things considered, it was a very nice day.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Dogs, Mr. Spouse, Studio |
Oh. My. So many adventures in Arty Life land the last couple of days. Brace yourself because this post is going to be skipping from one thing to the next, each topic guaranteed to make you more dizzy than the next.
First…and only because it happened minutes ago and I’m still as jumpy as a tweaker from the adrenalin rush…my brush with wildlife. There was a bear rat in the hay shed. Big sucker. But I was BRAVE. Oh, indeed I was, even with flip flops on my feet. No girly screaming like I did with the mouse. No. This time I was brave enough to stomp and shout with a very big voice like a very scary person. And bang a couple metal trash lids together like a one woman marching band. And Mr. Rat was so impressed he fell off one shelf and jumped down from another. The last I saw was his bare naked tail as it disappeared behind the hay.
Begone with you Templeton!
Now that I’ve impressed you with my wildlife management skills…you ARE impressed, aren’t you…now we can move on to Precious Man Dog (AKA Bean, AKA Benny) If you read Friday’s post, you’ll recall PMD was sorely in need of a haircut. Being a poodle mix the hair just grows. And grows. I let it grow over the winter to keep him warm. Dreadlocks happen and matts and clumps of thick, dense felt take over. Then in the spring I take to him with scissors and we start the cycle all over again.
So this was PMD last week.
This is him today, half the size he used to be. But so darn cute I can’t stand it.
Sophie is in the middle of her spring trim. I have to wait until she’s dead asleep before I can get certain spots. Like her chest. Right now she’s sporting a whole lot of chest hair. Throw a couple gold chains around her neck and she’d be a ringer for Burt Reynolds.
Okay, now it’s time to move on from critters, both wild and domestic, and get to art. Got a couple works in progress to show.
This is acrylic, 2’x2′. Don’t have a clue where it’s going but will know when it gets there. Layers and scribbles. Layers and scribbles.
This one is also acrylic, 36″x48″. Still very much a work in progress. Oh crap…as I’m writing this I’m wondering if I put the lid back on the jar of Titan Buff…well, let’s hope I did because it’s dark and I’m not heading back down to Studio Grande.
Speaking of Studio Grande, Mr. Spouse got some sheet rock up in the new! improved! Studio-Grande-to-be.
He was hoping to have it all rocked this weekend but it was slow going. Hard work indeed. But this is how Mr. Spouse relaxes from his desk job, he builds stuff. And I’m not complaining. By the way, this photo was taken after 6PM. Still good natural light, at least at this time of year. Even more when the tarps come off the skylights.
A gentle reminder that Wednesday is Random Acts of Art. I hope some of you will join me in sharing where you hide your treasures. You can send me photos before Tuesday (like, today) and I’ll post them on the blog. Or you can post the link to your own blog anytime between Wednesday and Saturday.
I’m posting art every day on my FaceBook page. Pop on over and check it out. And while you’re there, do me a GREAT BIG HUMONGOUS favor and click the ‘like’ button (for the page) if you haven’t done so already. And if you’ve already liked my page, pat yourself on the back because you are my BFF and I love you…truly love you… almost as much as I love chocolate!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Dogs, Life, Mr. Spouse |
There is only so much HGTV a body can stand before they willingly–willingly, I say–turn over the TV to the Super Bowl half of the family.
And I reached that point. I believe it was after the ‘is-there-really-any-chicken-in-here’ soup. The stuff that comes in the red and white cans. The stuff no adult eats and I never have in the house. The stuff I CRAVED after a night of violently purging from my system EVERYTHING that was not tied down by ligaments. I swear, even my EARS were puking. And when I came to, when I was remotely conscious, all I wanted was Campbell’s.
And a shock collar for the dogs. I wanted to send them flipping over backwards every time they barked. Which was every three minutes seconds. Because Mom was in bed and they had to guard her. From everything. And my little darlin’s have fierce imaginations when it comes to danger. Squirrels! BARK! BARK! Trees! BARK! BARK! BARK! Mr. Spouse checking to see if I’m still alive! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK!!!
I sent Mr. Spouse on a mercy run. He came home with the soup. Two cans. WHAT was he thinking??? Really, I’ve got a LOT of empty inside me, more than two cans’ worth. And he ignored my suggestion for the dogs. Totally. Like he thought I was kidding or something.
Awww geeze…
But while my day was spent snoozing on the sofa, drifting in and out as people bought apartments in Sweden and Scotland and directing BAD thoughts at my best beloved puppies, Mr. Spouse was outside working on the new studio.
I need to come up with a name for this new studio, by the way. Or I can transfer Studio Grande. I’m open to suggestions.
Look at that. Got some plywood up. And it’s starting to look real. The little puddle on the concrete lower right? Sophie and Bean saying hello. They don’t realize this is almost an indoor place now. And they sure don’t know that this will be Studio Quat’s domain.
Now that will piss ’em off.
This is the hobbit door. Mr. Spouse REALLY wanted this. And since his labor is free, I agreed. But I’m going to paint it RED.
So that was the weekend around here. Me? Not so much. Mr. Spouse? Good Job!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Dogs |
Sunday night. I’m needing inspiration. When in doubt, pick up the camera. Aim it at something. Sophie was too busy but Benny, AKA Bean. AKA Precious Man Dog, was hanging out on the sofa. Been a long day for him, way too much football. He’s such a couch potato.
Just look at that face. At that ‘stache. Inspector Clouseau, no? Next thing I know he’ll be woofing with a French accent. But he is half poodle so I guess that’s to be expected.
And this is Benny’s ear, top of his head. Against the back drop of the sofa cushion. It’s a way comfy, squishy kind of sofa. I’m looking at this photo thinking there’s something arty about it. I was going to tell you to squint to imagine the painting. But I did one better. Went on photoshop and played with a couple of filters.
This is Photoshop cutout filter.
Drybrush filter. Monkeyed with the color too.
Paint daubs filter. Hard choosing the right level of squiggle on this one. Loved ’em all.
But this one is my favorite, the pallet knife filter. Played with the options to get this effect. Practically a painting, don’t you think?
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Beloved Beasties, Dogs |
I woke up in the middle of the night, dog must’ve woofed or sumthin’. Not a totally unheard of event, living in the country. A lot of distractions going on outside in the big woods. Four legged distractions. Sophie in particular fancies herself a watchdog. Twelve pounds of Maltipoo vs. the wild beasts.
Bean tends to sleep through it all. Most nights I roll over, stuff a pillow over my head and go back to sleep.
But last night was different. I was in the middle of a dream. And there was a blowtorch involved. Which meant I was making art, doing the encaustic dance in my sleep.
I lay there thinking about that. About sleep as a means of recharging and refreshing and yet here I was carrying on the activities of the day on a whole ‘nother level.
As I write this many hours later, I have no memory of the the dream itself, of the content. But I still see the image I woke up with, the torch in my hand, the flame on the wax.
And I’m thinking it’s a good thing I don’t sleepwalk. And if I ever did, there’s a couple of locked doors and a gauntlet of wild beasties between me and that torch.
