Itemizing the Inexplicable

I've compiled a short list of things I just can't do (for whatever reason).

1. Keep my fingernails looking nice.

I'm a woman. I wanna look nice (from head to toe) if I can manage, and like many women, I've got a crusty bag of nail polish under the sink. In it, there's a color to satisfy whatever my whim, but choosing which to use, unfortunately, is only half the battle.

I've got painting my right hand down pat. It's the sticky aftermath that troubles me, that thirty-minute period where your fingernails feel dry to the touch, but they're still susceptible to bumps and scrapes of infinite variety. I can entertain myself for the first ten minutes or so, but as time ticks by, confidence waxes and vigilance wanes. I'll set about doing something, and even with the utmost care, the inevitable smudging occurs, at which point caution is thrown to the wind and thoughts of 'to hell with it' win out.

2. Have a drink nearby while painting.

Like all the best lessons, this is one learned the hard way. When I get it in my head that I'd like to paint something, I first undergo a ritual of preparation meant to prevent even the slightest inconvenience occurring while I'm elbow-deep in acrylic. This ritual used to involve setting a drink nearby so that my baser human needs did not interrupt the genius that was sure to unfold (or more accurately, to spare me the trouble of having to tip-toe to the kitchen with paint-speckled feet later on).

...but lo! It doesn't matter if my drink is a can of soda or a cup of coffee or any number of beverages lacking any resemblance to the cup of water I clean my brushes in. I WILL, as sure as the sun sets, lift that cup of sullied paint-water to my mouth instead. It could have twenty paintbrushes resting in it, and I would still try to drink it. What this says about me, I'd like not to consider...

3. Throw out the old.

Let's first acknowledge the fact that there are things worth keeping, and let's second concede that those things are not usually what clutter the metaphorical studio apartment of Life. Many useless things are taking up valuable real-estate in the limited surfaces of my mind and my apartment, but I can't bring myself to get rid of them.

Yes, I am referring to the headless Precious Moments figurines I keep stashed away in a box within a box, but I am talking, too, about those useless memories and ideas that linger for the sole purpose of giving me a swift mental kick when I'm down. This clutter is called to attention when sifting through the stuff in my trunk, or when I'm in an emotionally masochistic mood and wish to flagellate myself for all of my perceived failings (of which there are many).

I can live with smudged nails, and I can be thirsty while I paint, but this last one is something I'll have to work on.

My Latest Project

Part I: His Woodness

The wound is healing nicely, and he doesn't seem to be in much pain. The stitches are scheduled to come out next Thursday if everything continues to progress as well as it has. I honestly think he's had more trouble adjusting to the cone around his head than the loss of his leg. He gets around really well, but his movements these last few days suggest to me that he may be experiencing some muscle soreness as his body adapts to hopping around on only three legs.

He looks good, whether he's feeling it or not.

I'm thankful his physical condition has not been much cause for concern these last few days. I am, however, a little upset by his demeanor. I made the mistake of reading about amputation and the recovery process online, and it was mentioned that dogs sometimes go through a bout of depression after surgery.  I don't know if that's what is going on here, or if I'm just over-analyzing his behavior. I didn't even know dogs could be depressed. He's just not his usual Woodness, but I suppose that's to be expected after a major operation like he's had. If nothing else, his appetite is as big as ever, and that gives me peace of mind. 

On a sidenote, tomorrow is Wood's ninth birthday. :)

Part II: The Project

What I've got in the works.

As some of you may have noticed, 2012 has been a big year for my family and me. With that in mind, I decided I wanted to commemorate some memorable moments by painting a quilt. I learned when I was younger how to sew, crochet, and embroider, but never how to quilt, so I'll just have to hit the canvas instead.

Fortunately, I happened to have six 8x10 canvases on hand, and I thought they'd serve well as patches. I painted each a different color, and the first event I chose to memorialize was my dad's heart transplant. I didn't think to take pictures of the design process, which was really pretty simple, but I will try to remember to do that on my next piece. 

Spoiler alert.

Patch #1: the finished piece.

Right now, I am in the beginning stages of patch #2, which will symbolize my time at the South Bend Museum of Art, as well as the things I learned in my painting classes with Katherine Schmidt and David Lester Learn (both fantastic artists). I'm kind of going for a gritty, comic-book style with this series of paintings, so hopefully that will translate on the canvas when all is said and done. I think I'll just try and have some fun with it in the meantime. :)

More later...