CODE WHITE!!

 

That's right, it is code white in my house.  The most dreaded, horrifying code of all.  The code that drives me to the brink of insanity, changes my habits into an obsession of cleaning.  It's Spring and the dog is shedding.

Now you just chuckled to yourself thinking, " Sure, my dog is shedding too."  NO! You don't UNDERSTAND!  You have a normal, average dog.  The kind that drop some hairs when the weather warms.  The kind that after a few brushings return to their happy, wagging selves.

Ginzee walks around with a halo of white, shimmering in our brilliant, returning sun.  When she shakes in the sunlight you gasp at the cloud of dander and hair that shoot out of her body.  When she wakes up after a nap Steve and I jump up with excited voices convincing her she MUST go outside this minute. (Waking up always equals a good hardy shake.) She groggily stumbles out the door with wild eyes and lets out a full alert hound dog bay.  Sorry neighbors but this is an emergency, she's shedding!

Still not ready to give me the gold medal for shedding dogs?  Well hold on to your lint brush.  Treeing Walker Coon hounds have a double coat.  Yep, take your dogs fur and double it.  She has so many hair per square inch you can't separate her coat and see her skin.  Yes, I live with a 50 pound shedding sea otter.

My vacuum becomes my best friend, I convince the dog to spend her day on the deck.  I increase the budget to include a constant supply of sticky tape lint brushes.  When she starts to shake I block my wet paintings with my body. There is nothing to do but wait it out.  Clearly, Spring is in the hair.

Macaroni and Paper Mache

 

 

And now introducing.......MRS. EDWARDS!  The kids go wild!  They sit on the edge of their seats, they oooooo and ahhhhhhhh whenever I show a sample of my work.  They gaze up seeing me as a rock star of the art world.  I beam, basking in their appreciation.  And then...

If it had been a concert the lighters would have started to flicker off and the sing-a-long voices would have started to fade.  Even though I had planned well for my classroom visit in Wasilla the kids were struggling. WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?  I had really made sure the project would match their age group ability and yet clearly they were struggling.

Every class I adjusted and even though things improved the big 'TA-DA look what you just created!' moment was missing.  I was relieved when lunch arrived.  I needed to new plan and FAST!  While munching and pondering I started chatting with a local teacher.  I expressed my frustration.  "We have no art classes here" she said. "The simplest concept of line and shape these kids don't get, they haven't been taught." Please insert your horrified gasp here. GASP! No art classes?  Are you serious?

I was a creative kid and having a brother 2 years older than me was beneficial.  I knew what big art projects were in my future classes. I couldn't WAIT for 4th grade where we got to design with markers a real, live plastic dinner plate.  You could even put it in the dishwasher!  Or the metal project where we got to tap in a design into tin.  ( I knew for a year mine was going to be Snoopy)  There was the wood shop project where we got be make a recipe card holder.  (To this day my mom is still using the holder my brother made). I can not imagine not having art in school.  Every year I looked forward to all the little and especially the big projects.

I quickly got busy.  These kids would have their TA-DA moment.  Poor art-less babies, what has this world come to?  Imagine if I had no Mrs. Roslanic to encourage, counsel and eye roll at me through my high school years.  Would I have pursued art?

Well, I did it.  I came up with a project that the last two classes loved.  The room became filled with, "Mrs. Edwards, look at mine!"  Ahhhhh, music to my ears.

I know money is tight and there are constant budget wars and conflicts.  But a world without macaroni art?  None of us want that to happen. 

When Pigs Fly

I love birds.  I grew up with parakeets and even had a lovebird named Spooner.  I love painting birds and watching birds.  And I love feeding birds.

I have a feeder that hangs outside my studio window.  Here I am working away and a whole other world of bird hierarchy, chirps and flapping goes on outside.  It's quite wonderful really until 'IT' happens.

When the feeder empties things get ugly.  The peeps take on a tone of " HEY lady....get out here!"  They stare at me through the glass.  They gather like some bizarre feathered gang on the spruce branches.  Occasionally one will thump the glass.  A  miscalculation of flight?  I don't think so!

Now understand these are flying pigs I am talking about.  They don't seem to be suffering from any leanness brought on from the long winter.  I have red polls that I think could take out a raven!  And look here BIRDS, your food costs money!  Not to mention the knee deep snow I need to tromp through to get to the feeder!

Yes, they always win.  The feeder will be restocked and a chickadee will flit to the feeder all adorable with a sweet little cock of it's black and white head and I am cooing my love all over again.

Bird feeding season is brief here in Alaska.  In one minute a bird feeder becomes a bear feeder.  In just a few weeks the feeders will be tucked away for the summer. No one wants a bear to see you as an outdoor café.  Can you imagine?  I can barely hold my own with a nuthatch!

I play for a living

Ah commiseration.  It bonds us, allows us to vent and to know we aren't the only ones with this struggle to endure.  I use to have a job where I could join the gripe fest.  Sales meetings with no apparent purpose or end.  Fabric covered walls that did nothing to drown out your yakking co-worker.  The microwave with a patina of blown up soup, salmon and peas.  I remember it all well.

I no longer have a corporate job with all the hair tearing out moments.  There isn't a day that goes by when I don't breathe a contented sigh at my job as an artist.  It's awesome, honestly and I am so grateful for it.  I just can't talk about it.

I might ask a friend, "How was your day?"  Then the low lights are discussed and I nod and shake my head in disgust at the appropriate moments.  Do they then ask me about my day?  Nope.  If I try to tell them about my delicious morning ski, my current painting on my easel, the fun conversation with a client I get stink eye.  Stink eye alone would be fine but then the mocking ensues. 

My husband, whose support and willingness to live on a little less makes my career possible, is just as bad.  I have many text messages that say, "I love and hate you."  Usually this is in reference to my lunch time hike or sun filled studio.  I mean such oppression!  Who can be creative when your friends and family are plotting your demise.  Is it my fault I have the world's best job? 

Wait....did you just roll your eyes at me? 

Pay ATTENTION!

"She broke up with me.  She said I was too attentive...whatever that means"

 

For a while I thought my name was Pay Attention.  It has taken years of hard work to be more focused and in the moment. 

My first moment that I can recall of zoning out was in kindergarten.  We were given a piece of paper with a line on it about 3 inches from the bottom.  The instructions were NOT to draw beyond the line.  I never heard the teacher. I was thinking, "What is this pesky line doing here and how can I incorporate it into the drawing."

I ripped my side mirror off my car when I was in college.  Should have paid attention to the garage door opening.  And just recently I broke our bedroom door when I walked right into it while looking the other way.  I didn't say my focus wasn't a work in progress.

Recently I was invited to a conference for teachers from around Alaska.  There was about 400 people present and I was invited to sell my books during the lunch break.  There were awards given for teachers who have went above and beyond typical duties.  The sad thing....no one was paying attention.

There stood a woman who had spent a lot of time determining who was worthy of the award, who should receive it.  She prepared a beautiful speech highlighting the qualities of each recipient but no one really heard her.  It was sad. 

Let's make a pact to pay attention to each other.  No, texting while driving doesn't count!  When someone is talking to you look at them.  Not at your phone, or over their shoulder to see it anyone more interesting is coming along.  Just look them in the eye and listen.  We live in a world full of distractions.  We could all use a bit more practice in paying attention.

Puppies and kittens.  Just the words make me want to giggle.  We can't get enough of them.  I hate to be the predictable cooer whenever a puppies or kitten crossed my path but I can't help it!  But now cooing is always at your finger tips.  Welcome youtube!

I am not an Internet surfer.  I am not patient enough and honestly most my friends keep me smiling with kitty videos ( have you seen Simon's cat?) and dog videos (have you seen 'bacon flavor'?).  They send them on to me through my email.  No, there are no cats and dogs on my youtube history but I do have a weakness.

I could watch artist's video blogs for hours.  I only discovered this recently and I am looking forward to the next time I am down with a cold.  I can't wait curl up in bed with my hound dog at my feet and my cat at my side burning up hour after hour of watching someone else draw.  You don't even have to be that good for me to commit!  Sometimes I watch it and say, " No! leave it!!  Don't add the silly babble!"  I've watched artist sneeze on their art, drag their sleeve through paint and stick paper to themselves.  Ahhhh, my people.

Next time you're surfing around the web type in artist's blogs.  There is some great stuff out there that may give you a shot of inspiration.  Cough, sniffle....hmmm, I may be coming down with something.

Art in Life

It's true.  It is just the size of a shed in a trailer court.  But you see it don't you?  It's one of those great moments where your truckin along through your day and something just makes you stop and laugh out loud.  You don't see it?  Here, I'll help.

BONJOUR!  Okay, I know I stereotyped him just a bit but the shed was wearing a beret!  When were in France we again and again passed French carrying their fresh baguette still warm from the bakery.  I almost wish this shed was in a route I regularly took.  You know I would shout back a 'bonjour' when ever I passed.

Don't miss your 'art in life' moments.  They're all around.  I will bring you another one in a couple days.  It's amazing what you can see in a potato.