Blog time

I was blogging nearly every day for a year. I made a comitment to create something I could post, every day. That was very powerful. I made my creative time a priority. And I had a great time trying new things. I drifted out of the routine, but I've become more mindful and have begun to build up momentum. Here's today's entry.

Paper construction, watercolor, digital

Opening Up

I like the garden gate theme. This time I left the gate open. The picture, however is kinda dark. Gotta lighten up, eh?

Garden Gate

Made this pic today with new paints. Beginning to see how to use them. The colors dry very light, so it takes more washes. The colors are also brighter. Because this pic is small, about 5x8", I was aware of how I had to go so much slower, using a tiny brush. It's a good reminder of how to pay attention.

Not Pretty

Got some new paints so I'm trying them out. They go on very lightly. The colors are not very saturated. I made a muddy mess trying to get them stronger by layering washes. The paper will tear if I put any more water on it. Oh well.

Rollin'

When I want to enjoy the sensation of putting paint to paper, and I don't know what to paint; I often paint circles.

Rolling Along

Haven't been posting much. Been painting a bit. Where does the time go?

Beautiful Day!

There are still piles of snow, but a lot went away today. The river is really high from all the melting. We were out all afternoon, with wonderful friends, without coats! We're home again. I'm watching the sun set from my studio window. Nice.

Non-dominant shoe

Wonderful Mindfulness Class yesterday. The theme was about parts of yourself. One of the warm up prompts was to draw something you were wearing with your non-dominant hand. 

I find that very freeing. The emphasis changes from how the image will emerge to the much more basic challenge of how to hold the pencil to make a mark on the paper. The result is much more raw and stripped down.

Selfie Thursday

I like to draw myself. I do it on a regular basis. It can help me see how I am.
Also,  I got a new drawing board on a stand and I wanted to try it out. Sort of like a tabletop easel. I can angle it to be comfortable for drawing. I've also been not-so-comfortable with paint for a bit. I was looking for something different. Pencil is not usually my thing, but it can happen. I enjoyed myself. I like her expression in the picture; kind of thoughtful.

I wanted to be a cool girl: confessions of a chubette

I stood on a kitchen chair. My mother was pinning up the skirt she bought me. She had gone to Mays and brought home a selection of items for me to try on. It was easier than taking me and my little sister on the train.

She had chosen from the Chubbette department. The penalty for being over sized was that they looked like fat clothes. They were made larger but not proportioned to fit my short limbs and thick waist. Everything needed hemming. I inevitably ended up rolling up the waistband and the sleeves.

It was painful to feel so out of fashion as the popular girls got to wear their trendy treats. Even my footwear was so lame. The cool girls wore cordovan colored penny loafers. I wore "good shoes", as my mother called my lace up oxfords. I had angry red grooves in my skin from the rubber bands I used  to hold up my knee socks.

There was no sharing or trading clothes with my girlfriends. I was too embarrassed to do sleepovers. Not that anyone invited me. I never invited anyone over either. Not even for supper. Lots of times my parents weren't even home. And I felt like there was nothing to do at my house.

I discovered thrift shops and vintage clothing after high school. 40's and 50's styles, both men's and women's fit me in a way that mainstream clothes never could. I bought up all I could find and clad myself in complete movie star fashion, down to the underwear. Finally, I was a cool girl!

It's all but a memory now. Vintage has a different meaning; probably more like the 80's. I don't know as I never shop in second hand stores. I rarely shop for clothes anymore. Things change and what was once important is no longer. I live in the woods now, far away from New York City and the cool girls. I love it here, but I still have to hem everything.

At the Book Fair

Haven't the patience, nor wherewithal to paint or even doodle. 

I've been helping my Millie with her new venture. We had a table at the Berkshire Festival of Women Writers Book Expo this past weekend. It was intense but a really good experience. So many friends came out to support us.

Millie finished her book

I'm so happy and proud of my Millie.  She finished her book and has a number of gigs to give talks and workshops. We've shifted into high gear around here as she needs all kinds of marketing materials. I haven't worked for a few years but find myself in front of the computer for hours turning out flyers, email blasts, posters, etc. I've forgotten how to use some of the software and it takes me a long time and doesn't come easily.
Oh well. I'm managing and happy to help. She does so much for me.

I'm a Loser

Weigh-in at WW confirmed that I'm down 5.2 Fleichmanns. That's my sister's word for pound. As in the magarine. I like the image. To imagine 5.2, 1lb. boxes stacked up on the kitchen table being equal to the lbs. I lost, works for me.

Of  course, I took myself out to lunch afterward to celebrate. It's OK to do that on weigh-in day. You have the rest of the week to make it up.

Last meeting, I bought a box of WW candy bars and ate all but 2. I took them out of my nightable and gave them to Millie. She said, "I get TWO?" She was impressed.

I liked the meeting. The leader was very skilled. She got us all involved in this week's poignant group discussion.  I left the meeting feeling a bit lighter. I took the stairs instead of the elevator.

Tort or Retort?

"Would you like to see the dessert menu?", the perky waitress asked? "Sure, and could you bring a take-home container for the rest of my salad?"

I perused the list of evil offerings. Almost any item would use up my entire week's bonus food points. Maybe I should just get a candy bar when I stop for gas.

I casually scoped out the other diners. Next to me two thin women were sipping their water with lemon slices. They'd finished their meal and there was no hint of  a double brownie hot fudge sundae or baker's choice cheesecake.

The shame set in. I felt too embarrassed to order anything. "Would you like to order something?" The waitress's voice cut through the chatter in my head.

"Yes", I said, "but I'm not going to." The waitress smiled at my clever retort.

Weight Watching

We were early followers of Jean Naiditch, the founder of Weight Watchers.

The very first meetings were held each week  at the synagogue in my neighborhood. 
My mother made me come with her. I was the only daughter there. Aunt Esther came, too. The other mothers complimented me for taking action while I was still young enough to lose the weight in time to find a husband. A small part of me thought it was cool to be there; but mostly I felt fat and embarrassed. I was 11.

One of the tips I learned was to say, "No thank you, I can't have that. I have fat-on-my-thigh". I remember my mother thought that was clever. Mimicking the meeting leader, she pronounced the word very fast and slurred it so you would think it's a kind of medical condition.
I haven't had the opportunity to use that tip, yet. But it's good to be prepared.

I joined WW for the umpteenth time a couple of weeks ago. I took off my hoodie when I weighed in after the first week so as to optimize the loss. I haven’t done too much to follow the program. I haven’t finished reading all the literature. I did lose 1.6 lbs. That’s not much. A guy on “The Big Loser” lost 22 lbs in his first week.

I couldn't find a picture of me at 11 years old.