by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Dogs |
Sophie is a monkey butt.
Don’t be fooled by that cute little face. Because behind it, somewhere in the ATTITUDE section of her little canine head, is a monkey butt. MONKEY BUTTTTTTTT……
I came in from the studio and caught her on the table today. The dining room table. Like a cat. But she’s not a cat, she’s a D.O.G.
It wasn’t the first time.
Disclaimer: The cat does NOT get on the table. Mostly never. Oh no, she gets on my shoulders while I’m sitting at the table. Like she’s auditioning for a future role as a fur wrap. Which she might be.
I just thought you should know.
And now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about ART!
This week was all about exhaling. About breathing deep and letting go of expectations. And commitments. About taking time for me.
I came home early from work one day, like 10 AM early. Wasn’t feeling well. I stretched out on the sofa and crashed for a couple of hours. When I woke up I put my feet on the coffee table, grabbed a notebook and started sketching.
And yes, the notebook already had notes in it but they were so…yesterday. Or maybe last year. Whatever. They had served their purpose and were talking up paper. So I drew right over them.
From the very first sketch, the one up above, I realized I had NO idea where I was going. I just began making marks. Anatomically incorrect marks involving women with interesting parts.
I’m quite fond of lady parts, especially my own. So I just let it happen as I sketched merrily along.
A day or two later I picked up the notebook again (hereafter referred to as the Art Journal because it sounds so…arty) and decided to take the little sketches further. Thought charcoal for be nice for depth. And then fixative to keep the charcoal from breeding with the other pages. Spray Fix is something I recently discovered that I have cans and cans of, proving it pays to organize the supplies once in awhile.
Well, the charcoal was fun but blah. These suckers needed some punch. So I added pastels. And more fix. And then acrylic markers because they make everything pop. And some collage because why not?
Gaia
Susan Lobb-Porter
Before I knew it these journal entries turned into mini-paintings. Or studies for future paintings that can be developed further, like maybe next week.
Surrender to Love
Susan Lobb-Porter
Oh, my best, best, BEST beloveds…I can see you scratching your heads (heads, yes, you have at least two in my world) scratching your heads and saying but Susan, this is soooo not what you usually do.
And you would be right.
So check back next week and see what happens. You might be surprised.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art |
Today I walked up and down the hill carrying arty stuff. From the old studio to the new. It was hot but I had a job to do (she says like a superhero).
Mostly though, I was…distracted. By this. And that. And those over there. Bright shiny things. Cardboard. Tree roots. No matter. It was all more interesting, more entertaining, than trudging up and down a 6% grade in the HEAT, I said it was hot, didn’t I? lugging huge panels and paintings and all manner of arty tools.
6% doesn’t sound like much to me, although Mr. Spouse assures me that’s an impressive number for highway engineers. I’m going to bump it up to, oh, let’s say 75% just so you know I’m really serious about this.
It was steep. And distracting. Because there was a car in the driveway and I decided I needed to go somewhere. Anywhere. So I did.
Then I came home and the studio still hadn’t unpacked itself.
We were not getting off to a good start. So I abandoned the job for just a few hours minutes tending to the social media part of the biz. Because that’s important. And I was only checking FaceBook for the stats.
Two hours later…damn you, FaceBook!…I climbed onto the countertops, Mr. Spouse’s concrete countertops, pounded nails in the walls and learned two things. Concrete countertops are not for kneeling, no matter how young your knees are. And mine aren’t. And two: Pencils, nails, hammers are always just out of reach. Or hiding behind something. Or under something. Or mysteriously transported to the other side of the universe because of something to do with theoretical physics and Science Friday.
Blame it on NPR.
Make that three things: This is going to take longer than I thought. But it WILL be worth it.
And it’s going to be hotter tomorrow.
Now here’s a photo of my feet. On the way home, done for the day. Tired little tootsies now being licked by the dog.
And tomorrow I get to do it all over again. But it’s going to be soooo worth it.
Oh, and if you haven’t seen my new blog yet, BIG BOLD BEAUTIFUL YES!!! check it out.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Dogs, Life, Porterosa |
I came home from work tonight and realized I really had to water the fruit trees. I planted them a couple months ago, two apples and a pear. I planted them on a terrace Mr. Spouse built last year.
Mr. Spouse does like to build things, especially when it involves stone.
We backfilled the terrace with Gucci dirt. Topped it with pony poop. Got a GREAT crop o’weeds growing between the trees. Thick and lush, waist high. Orchard grass. Rye grass. Wild peas. The biggest clover you’ve ever seen.
Umm…too green to whack just yet. Too tall to mow. But they blend in with the rest of our forest home. And yes, they will go away soon enough. A little slatted table will take their place. A couple of colorful chairs.
Meanwhile, it’s Sophie’s favorite place. She disappears in there. The weeds close over her head. She’s too busy hunting to come when called…all sorts of critters call the terrace home. Lots of rodent holes and I’ve seen a bunny or two.
Which is why I’m not bothering with a garden this year.
I had to water the trees by hand. Haul the water up the hill two buckets at a time. The hose was otherwise engaged and the irrigation isn’t in yet. So it was just me and a couple of buckets in A Little House in the Big Woods moment. Which is fitting since we DO live in the big woods.
Me and the buckets and the bees. Bazillions of big fat bees buzzing around the peas and clover. They weren’t bothered by me and I wasn’t bothered by them. By the way, do you realize how hard it is to photograph those suckers? They move faster than my auto focus.
A piece of clover caught on my shoe and followed me into the house. Told you it was big!
This time last year we woke up to snow. Ah, spring!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Beloved Beasties, Dogs |
Sophie and Bean are Malitpoos, a cross between Maltese and Poodle. They grow hair like Rapunsel. Grows and grows until someone cuts it off. Usually me. Because a groomer takes one look at them and puts the clippers on ‘scalp’. Just wack it off down to the skin. Poor babies look like rotisserie chickens for a couple of weeks, until a little growth comes in.
But the groomers don’t really have a choice. My best beloved puppies tend to get a wee bit matted. Think steel wool…and that’s Bean’s hair. Curly steel wool. Sophie’s coat is deceptively soft and wavy. But it’s just as rowdy as her brother’s.
Both of them are like velcro. And since we live in the forest and they’re low to the ground…ah, keeping them groomed would be a full time job. They attract every twig, every burr, every pine needle on the trail. The ones that don’t come off on the furniture are like pearls, working their way deep into the coat, twisting the hair around until another dreadlock is formed.
By this time of year the coats are pretty long. Not a bad thing if it was winter. But winter hasn’t happened this year. So Sophie got a hair cut. It was only logical. She was sitting on my lap, the scissors were handy. Fate. Whatever. Sophie has a new ‘doo, except for her face. And one or two of her legs. Face has to wait until I can find the blunt edge scissors. Legs have to wait until we’re both in the mood.
This is what I got off her. Oh? Just dog hair. What’s the big deal?
Got enough hair to make another dog! That’s the big deal.
Really, look at that! But it won’t play!
Next comes the face. Someday.
Bean knows he’s next. Not now, but soon. He’ll keep his distance for a little while.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Life |
I like this on-going bliss list thing. Makes me stop and notice the little moments, the ones that might get away otherwise. Makes me stop and go AHA! now this is something worth remembering.
Like the full moon in a rain so soft it’s not really rain, just moisture in the air. Watching it rise up through the woods. Through the pines. And then in the wee hours, when I wake up and look out the window and the ground looks like it’s covered in snow. But it’s not. It’s moonlight.
Like when I’m lovin’ on the ponies, saying goodnight. I make the kiss-kissy sounds and old horse cranes her neck forward so I can plant one on her nose, while the boy gives a soft, quick bump of his lips against my forehead.
Like Sophie. Always bliss. ALWAYS. Look at that face! And I can’t have a bliss list without a dog now, can I?
Like sitting on the sofa with DaughterDear, reminiscing about Mama, her Grandma. Telling stories. Laughing.
Like waking up the day AFTER the stomach flu and feeling NORMAL. Normal…Oh. My. God. NORMAL!!! Oh yes, now THAT’S what I call BLISS!
Your turn, my sweetums. Leave your lists in the comments below. And for more feel good blogs today, hop on over to Liv Lane and check out The Little Bliss List BLog Hop.
