Who Let the Blogs Out?!

Don't ask me why so many posts lately. Maybe feeling lonely, maybe feeling hyper, maybe feeling bored. Maybe feeling snarky and not wanting to snark at people around me for no apparent reason other than I'm feeling snarky. I don't know. Mostly, I'm in a good place. I've even gotten hopeful again politically. So who knows what all the blabbing is about. But here's the fourth post today.

The point of this one is to show the icky part of my current process. Lately, I've been trying to stretch and challenge myself, and at my very basic level of learning, simply trying to work with brush and paint can be more challenging than I was prepared for. The aim is to make some Valentine's Day tags to give some friends. A little mail art. I've been getting some mail art from folks, and it's great fun! It's a little piece of a friend, and there's spirit in it. And I love everyone's uniqueness.

So anyway, I figured, the past few days, that I wouldn't show any of the things I've been working on so that the recipient(s) would not find out anything in advance. I do have my two loyal readers. Wouldn't want them to find out.

But, as it appears that things are not going as I'd intended, I just decided to blog it out. Blog it out and free myself of all this need to be perfect. For some reason, I still have the fear about spreading out the work, or making a mess. No one would know it to look at the table, but effectively, that's what's going on in me. And when I was setting out my paints I could sense that. I'm using some of the least expensive paints on the market, and I'm still trying to conserve them. I'm using the cheapest brushes, and I still don't want them to get too dirty. I'm used to working with glues and paper and pens. Paints can be so daunting. One of the most basic of media, but for some reason, like with my writing, I think it's going to wrestle me to the ground and ruin everything.

Isn't it funny how we sabotage ourselves?! What could be ruined? There's nothing to ruin! There are more paints, there are more brushes, there are more tags, where all these came from. And if there aren't, I can use something else. I can draw with ballpoint pen on a napkin! I can play with chalk on the cement of the back deck. There's no reason in the world to be so afraid of making a mark on a piece of paper! But in a way, I am. Even knowing that it's a primitive, irrational fear, approaching the project knowing this ahead of time, even with that, I could see that I was being too careful with my paint palette.

So, after making mistakes and coming up short of my vision, I decided to document it and maybe normalize it, and then move on.

Here's the work table. Some of the tags that I smudged all up (on purpose, which then looked icky) are there, and a tag that has been stamped and then bordered in a way I don't like, is there, and the blue tag that was a hideous freak of nature and had to be painted over with a fresh coat, is there. The mask I used for the red border, which was not stable enough as a mask, is there, and the neat little paint palette is there. And my hands have paint all over them, and nothing is in its proper place and some of the paint is going to dry out and have to be tossed. What a NIGHTMARE!



But now that I have come to terms with some of the silliness of this fear of actually letting art HAPPEN, I feel so much better. I'm really looking forward to re-visiting the scene tomorrow. I'm going to try for the fourth time, and eventually something will sing to me. It might have to be a Mother's Day tag by then, but it will sing!

In the meantime, here's a picture of the other table, with the metal mailboxes we are going to alter and swap. Ain't they cute? I didn't have a picture for the previous post, so here they are. There are also little pails, where the tags are going to go. If they turn out as Mother's Day pails, so be it.



And here's what I used to do before I was afraid of paint! I baked all the time. But arting has taken over, and I hardly ever bake. This holiday season, when I customarily lose 4 or 5 friends from baking hysteria, I made nothing. But Monday I decided to bake a friend a late birthday cake, from scratch. So, when I feel like the art materials have a vendetta against me (which they don't really, but sometimes it feels like it), I can say, hey. I know how to bake a cake.




I'm going to bed.

If I wake up and post another entry, don't give me the satisfaction of reading it. Someone's got to discipline me or I'll never learn.


Next up: Chris paints pretty frosting on her muffins.