If you read my blog last week, and I sincerely hope you did, you will recall that I was in Texas. There are not many reasons a fresh veggie lovin’ liberal from northern California would visit the land of everything-deep-fried-including-Oreos, certainly not for the foot long corndogs or the politics–no, no–NOT the politics, but I had a VALID reason to go to the lonestar state, the BEST reason of all … I’m a grandma.
Now go read that post so you can see how seriously I take this grandma stuff. You have to do that so you can understand how leaving the munchkin would’ve been hard, would’ve been devastating, would’ve broken my heart in a thousand little bitty pieces…if I didn’t have something to look forward to…
A side trip to Las Vegas to visit an old friend. A friend who knows me well enough to know that rocks and sun and light and big sky would feed my soul. Feed hers as well.
It was a quick visit, 48 hours, nearly every one of which–when we weren’t sleeping—involved driving around the desert.
Chasing the sun.
And falling in love with a landscape stripped down to the basics. A landscape that makes you reach deep inside and pull something out you didn’t know was there. Something...holy.
Long before the gamblers, the silicon titties, the wild and frantic seven deadly sins check-list that is the Vegas strip, long before that, THIS was here.
And the ancient ones who painted their lives, their gods, their hunts, their stories on the walls of rock were here.
I’ll be back. I HAVE to go back. Have to experience this more deeply. I want to camp. And hike. Take photographs. Make art. And I want to share this with you. The seeds of a workshop have been planted.
Now I just have to figure out the logistics.
And listen to da muse who was WAY inspired. Inspired enough to play with charcoal on a whole ‘nother level.
Primal # 1. Susan Lobb Porter. Charcoal on paper
Primal # 2 Susan Lobb Porter. Charcoal on paper
You up for joining me? It will be quite the arty adventure! Promise, really. Pinky swear even.
As always, would love to hear what you have to say in the comments below.
Or what goes on inside that head of yours, Miz Susan? Really, WHAT???
Okay, so last week I got all fired up about Venus traipsing merrily across the sun. Because someone told me that astrology-wise it meant ALL SORTS OF CREATIVE WOO-WOO.
Whoo-hoo, I’m all for that, y’know.
So I went home and painted. Might’ve even showed you this. See, lookit…she’s in front of the sun! Because she’s Venus!
Oh, I was nothing if not clever, eh?
But in the clear light of another day, a day when my mind was stone cold sober and free from the effects of the astrological high…well, then I wasn’t nearly as impressed with my efforts. In fact, after some careful (i.e., spontaneous) consideration… I MADE HER GO AWAY!
Poof...just like that!
Be gone with you, pouty faced goddess!
Which is what happens when you arm a cranky artist with a loaded brush. Wasn’t exactly poof. First came the tortured hippy phase.
Next came death by Titan Buff. Followed by some scrubbing. Good way to get the mouldering in the grave effect, don’t you agree?
Then I said the hell with it and brought out my inner Flora Bowley. Because layers are good. A new start. Did a lot of layers, can’t say how many. By this time I was in a pissy mood perilously close to art therapy.
I looked at the scribbles and saw a woman. Not really, didn’t see a damn thing…but I still had Venus in my head. And if I wasn’t careful, if I didn’t part with Flora (whom I respect and admire tremendously) if I didn’t part with her right here, I would go on to paint some birds. And big ole va-jayjay flowers. Wouldn’t’ve been able to help myself.
So I cranked up the music and painted a GODDESS. And those blue squiggles on the lower left…they told me they were dancers. Holy crap! The Supremes!
No, no NO…not the Supremes…it’s the TRANSITS! Venus and the Transits!
'Venus and the Transits Rockin' Round the Sun' by Susan Lobb-Porter
And there you have it…Venus and the Transits Rockin’ Round the Sun.
PAR-TAY TIME!
I never say a painting’s finished until it leaves the studio. But this one’s close. Maybe a few little touches here and there. But no major facelift like she-who- lies-beneath-the-surface.
Now scroll back up and listen to Frankie. C’mon, you know you want to.
Holy crap…went to bed last night all tucked up in my flannel sheets and when I woke up IT WAS SPRING!!! Sun shining. Birds singing. Felt so good I went for a RUN first thing.
I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve gone for a run. And I didn’t go very far before I realized I was suckin’ pollen into my lungs like a cowboy and his Marlboros. So I cut it short but not before getting enough endorphins to be insufferably perky for most of the day.
In fact it felt so good I decided to wear lime green. LIME GREEN. Which does nothing to hide the muffin top. And I DID NOT CARE. Because I felt so gooooooood.
Spring is lasting until the weekend when it suddenly becomes SUMMER. Supposed to be in the 80s. I don’t think it hit 80 last year until July. Late July. So no studio time tonight. No art until Precious Man Dog gets a haircut.
If only I knew where the scissors were.
Somewhere under all that hair is a dog. And he’s hot. But he knows when I’m thinking about cutting that mop. And he does everything to get out of it.
See what I mean? First the glare….
Then the dead ‘gator roll over.
Finally…resignation. The last photo while wearing his winter coat.
Come back Monday to see what a maniac I am with scissors.
Now get up. Do some jumping jacks. Go forward into the day. And tonight when the sun is still up, well at least for another hour, raise a toast, have some chocolate and ENJOY!
The sun DID NOT go down. Well, it did. But not until 6:30. That means even though I worked late today, even though I stopped and picked up dinner, even though I was bone tired by the time I drove home and fed the ponies at 6…it was STILL DAYLIGHT!
Imagine that…
The winter-that-never-happened, except for the dark and dreary part, is giving way to spring. Is giving way to longer days. Even longer days after this weekend when the time change happens. OMG! I am positively GIDDY with anticipation!
Positively blissed out by that big old ball of gas in the sky.
