Surveying My Domain

It's Sunday morning, the day after the annual Valentine's Dance at the pavillion. It's normally a fun time, but this year the band was freaking awful and the food was even worse and scantier than usual. The organizers are going to have to do some serious rethinking about this event. The pre-set at our friends' house was good, though, as always.

At the moment I'm enjoying my second coffee and the view of the snow-covered back garden, and writing this on my big computer, not the laptop. I've spent the past couple of days moving my office from its top-floor location in my son's old room to down here in the studio, along with all the attendant files, paper, software, bills, and anything and everything to do with household and gallery bookkeeping. My legs just couldn't take the constant up and down three stories between studio and and office. There is just no getting away from the need to multitask in my life and in my brain. I might as well make it more convenient.

So far it is working out just fine. My parents have a favorite story about my childhood defining trait, which was to sit on the floor in the middle of the room and have ALL of my toys around me in a circle. I'd play with this one for a bit, then turn and play with that one, and often mixed them up in a complex activity which seemed to make perfect sense to my little head, if not to anyone else's. It looks as if I have not outgrown this tendency. Now I am about to plot how to find an affordable way to have my piano moved down here from the gallery. With that, my Domain will be Compleat. I miss my piano. Up there in the gallery it is right under the stairs to Steve's office. I really only play for myself, after all, and some days I play better than others, depending on how my hands feel. So if it is down here with me I can tickle the keys without self-consciousness or worry about disturbing Steve or anyone else, especially when he is on the phone. It's always been an essential part of my creative process.

The old office is now given over to extra clothing storage, laundry sorting, ironing, and sewing machine/mending, a sort of walk-in closet/utility area. It is desperately needed, as our closets are miniscule and our bedroom not much bigger. These changes have caused some differences in the flow of my routine, but I'm getting used to it, as is Steve. It's good to have every bit of space in this house fully functional and not crammed to the gills.

I've also decided to be a brave soul and attempt to do our taxes, using software which will interface well with my bookkeeping program. I love my CPA but we really can't afford her this year. I will do the best I can with the taxes and then turn over the business one for her perusal. This way her fee is more manageable for us. Most businesses do this, anyway. I have come a long way from my receipts-in-a-shoebox days!

Taking No Prisoners

Woke up in a grim mood this morning. Brushed teeth, washed face, startled myself when I looked in the mirror, and saw I had one of those if-looks-could-kill faces going on. I don't even know why, unless perhaps it is the Bad Ovary acting up. The other one is pretty easy-going, never makes waves, wouldn't even know it was there, barely shows up on xrays and sonograms. But the Bad Ovary is another kettle of hormones altogether. Most of the time HRT keeps it from wigging out, but in these days of swinging hormonal balances....

This might sound like something out of Woo-Woo Land, but I think the ovaries are now shutting down for good and I'm entering proper dowagerhood. It could explain all the fatigue and dry mouth and eyes and skin, going through an adjustment period of sorts. It's just a feeling I have.

Nick announced his engagement to Amy yesterday. It comes as no surprise since they have been together longer than Steve and me. But it's a bittersweet moment. Time flies, and all that. I wonder how my parents are going to react to the news. I do know that I am happy Nick does not seem to be troubled by the idea of marriage, especially after my fiasco years with his father.

Had another small project to tackle today--an electric outlet in the kitchen went on the blink and had to be replaced. Given the ancient and eccentric wiring in this house, a grim mood is exactly what was needed to tackle it. So far so good.

Yesterday one of the artists came by to pick up his work, and another is coming later today to take down his installation. Then it will be time to line up the publicity for the next show, which will open on April Fool's Day. At the moment Steve is returning the gallery to it's original casual "beachy" feel, a happy jumble of works by a variety of artists mixed together with our own work and even work in progress. I'm leaving him to it, and looking forward to the results.

I told him that I think I'm entering my dowagerhood, and he readily agreed, as he has noticed a collection of subtle changes in me in the past few months, as if I have suddenly aged more quickly. There's nothing that can be done about it, it's all part of the circle of life. I guess I just wasn't expecting to have happen to me what didn't happen to my mother until she was past 60. But I'll get over it.

One Down, Innumerable to Go

Feeling a little better about the art now that I've completed that first painting and gessoed the masonite for the second. Too tired to actually begin on the next painting, but I can at least do the pre-painting, the bit where I tap into the sensibility of this moment in time. That's always where the paintings come from, anyway.

Bought a fresh gallon of gesso and some slightly better quality paints yesterday, plus a new pad of good drawing paper. Stopped at the local Goodwill and found a simple weaving loom from the 70's. It's of course missing some parts, but I think I can work around that. I'm not looking to weave fabrics but to make bits and pieces for assemblages, so I actually want something that is more art than crafts. Having my own uniquely-jerryrigged loom ought to keep it that way.

Groundhog Day(s)

Sometimes my life feels like the same day over and over and over again--caught up in the trivia that piles up and needs attention, and struggling to get it out of the way so that I can turn my back on everything and get down here in the studio to work. It's the same old story, isn't it? And now I've run out of art to sell....

The grant application was finished and sent off, after all, and while I do not expect to get it, I feel quite a lot of satisfaction at having done it. Steve's help was invaluable. He showed me the method he has used in the past and it is very similar to methods I've used with working in groups, so the logic of the process was immediately clear and after that I was able to do the rough draft fairly quickly, sleep on it, then refine it and do the budget and timelines and documention. It was a very simple application as grant applications go, so it was a good one for my maiden voyage.

The doctor called in the middle of all of this to tell me that my tests were the picture of health. While this was great news, it begged the question of just what in the world is going on with me. It isn't all in my head because Steve and our friends have seen it happen. So maybe it was a virus of some sort. The doctor wants me to take some supplements which help convert carbs into energy more efficiently. If this is still going on in a few weeks I might schedule a stress test.

I had planned to visit my parents today, but they told me to stay put and get some painting done. Yes Mom, yes Dad! As it turned out Dad had funerals to go to and Mom came down with a cold and just wants to rest.

I had a pleasant surprise the other night when we were on our way to a local business association gathering. The owner of the other gallery in town had purchased the Angel Bunny at the charity auction, and it was in her shop. Steve said she puts it out on the doorstep to the gallery every day and takes it in at night. It was flattering as hell, and I was glad to know what happened to it. It was a lot of fun to make.