Funny Thing About Creativity

I have been playing around always with 3D art lately, and am not sure I like and/or love the results.

This is all new for me.

Up until a couple of years ago I thought my creative artwork had dried up and moved to the desert. I was “creative” in my younger years, but never took an art course. Nor a writing course, for that matter.

That didn’t stop me from trying — and improving — whatever latent talents I had.

After I retired four years ago, I took up crafting, enjoying it enough to perfect the talent into an actual craft fair material. That led to down time in the winter, and, needing a filler, started sketching and drawing circles and designs and pop art sort of things. A field — and style — I never really took seriously.

Now that the winter chill has snuck into Wisconsin I find myself experimenting once again. Where this 3D stuff came from I haven’t a clue. I started with copying some of the geometric pictures I sketched last year and added things like 1/2″ G clefs and clock hands on circles.

Is it art?  Oh yes. Is it good? That’s best left to psychics and mystics. And art teachers.

I’m neither putting down nor building up my budding new career. But I am surprised that I both like and dislike my work.

Is that natural for an artist? To feel disappointed that I can’t turn the ideas in my head into actual art pieces? To want to have my art be fantastic every time I start out?

This is where practice makes perfect. Or, rather, makes you better.

 You know all those cliches. You can’t get lemonade out of lemons unless you work squishing juice out the fruit and adding ingredients to it. You can’t finish the race if you don’t start it. Blah blah blah.

I believe self growth is full of satisfying moments and disappointing moments, especially where art is concerned. Like advanced degrees or top paying jobs, you don’t make it there on day one.

So it is with art. No matter if it’s your first time or the 100th time or the 10,000th time, every time you do something you do it differently. You find more control. More understanding. Your fingers move easier, your coordination improves.

Will you or I ever be on the art gallery circuit? I would love to think so. But in reality, I’m just as happy learning to do something better and better every time I try. I find it therapeutic as well as keeping those synapses in my brain firing.

I am accumulating a sketchbook full of ideas and a pile of art boards. What does Kenny Rogers say in the song “The Gambler”:

Cause every hand’s a winnerAnd every hand’s a loser

You  know the rest of the song. And we’re not there yet.

So let’s keep on practicing……

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Quiet Saturday Mornings

Just like smooth jazz, a mellow, drifting kind of magic from my friend Gigi over at Rethinking Life….

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Beauty….

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A close-up of a white bird preening its feathers.

I’m amazed at how beautiful this photo is
the delicate feathers
the gentleness of the sleep
the coloring
everything is perfect

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Still Cleaning Cobwebs

 

A  cloudy, cool Caturday outside today. The boys are at the end of their fishing trip, leaving me to cook and clean up dog poop. (old dog) all by myself.  I’ve spread my current art project across the kitchen take like flood waters over the dam, but am a a stopping point, so  all is good with the world.

Sluggish-a-reno. Not even Haydn’s lively Paris Symphony #82 can get my mind nor body to function.

I don’t remember being sluggish like that at an earlier age. Life wouldn’t let me. With working two jobs, raising two kids, attending school functions, you had no choice half the time when you woke up and when you went to bed. 

But this isn’t a blog today about the good ol’ days. Most times they’re never as “good” as you remember anyway. A day was just a day, a certain code restricting your freedom depending upon your age and schedule.

Sooooo ….. Are your Saturday’s fairly free? What kind of things do you plan when you don’t have to cook for company or run your kids to soccer games?

I’d love to know how you all spend your Saturday. Perhaps it would spiff me up and get me off the sofa to hear what your weekends are like. Plus, you’re from all over the world, and I’m sure location, age, weather, social influences and would put a wonderful spin on your exciting lives!

Any takers?

 

Faerie Paths — Elegance

 

 

Elegance is not being noticed, it’s about being remembered.

~ Giorgio Armani

 

 

 

Camping for Seniors

luxury-campingI just spent the holiday weekend camping up in Door County. It’s an annual multi-family gathering, full of great food, great company, and great outdoors. There is nothing more delightful than being in the Great Outdoors, sharing secrets with Mom Nature, roasting marshmallows over the campfire and hiking down the trails. We don’t do hotels, nor can we afford a pull-behind camper. My hubbie and I are quite content to  use my son’s popup tent. But I have decided that next year is going to be different. At least comfort-wise.

Now that I’m sitting dry and comfy back in my livingroom, I’m going to change my comfort plans for next year. My body’s aches and pains are telling me that this was the last year for army cots and mummy sleeping bags. I think that I am old enough to bring a little more comfort into my camping zone.

I want to go out and get a nice, fluffy pillow for starters. It can be polyfill, but I’m tired of my neck being stiff from flat head. I also am tired of the mummy-bag-look. It was alright when I was in my 20’s and camping with the gang. But with my hot and cold flashes, I can’t breath when I’m a half inch away from poly filling. Besides that, I need to be able to accommodate my Restless Leg Syndrome. I need room. So next year I’m bringing a fluffy, over-sized comforter as my bedding. Floral preferred.

I also need something better than an army cot to prevent stiff bones and joints. Between my tail bone and hips stiffening, I need something that at least pretends to be a bed. A twin-sized air mattress should do the trick.

While we’re at it, this past weekend was a rainy one. Mud everywhere. We do take the luxury of putting a mat outside the tent door, but I think a few wash ‘n wear rugs on the inside floor would be the perfect resting place for my muddy shoes and callused feet. Floral also preferred, although these should be a darker color scheme.

I do set up a little table in the tent, but, alas, my husband’s bag usually takes up most of the room. The table also doubles as a holding spot for glasses, bottles of water, phone, and other oddities that goddesses need throughout the night. So I have to remember not to fill it with silly fluff just for fluff sake. But I need some ambiance, something to keep his stinky clothes at bay. A throw of some sorts should work as a tablecloth, along with  a solar centerpiece or battery operated candle. Nothing bright — just enough light so I can find my way to the door. Nothing like stumbling over stinky dog on your way to the bathroom.

I know you are saying to yourself, Hey — this is camping, you know — not an evening at the Hilton. Camping is made to be a little rough, a little dirty. I so agree. But I also know that my “seasoned” bones need a little more pampering than they did 30 years ago. I have to understand that it’s okay to be a little slower, a little more cautious when it comes to doing the things I love. I can’t run down the road with the four-year-old, chasing him and his bike. So be it. I can be standing in the middle of the road when he circles back, though. That’s what granny’s do.

Grannies also take care of their surroundings. Both for themselves and others. And this granny deserves to have a little softness in her rough and tough camping world. I don’t think adding an air mattress or a fluffy pillow takes away from the glory of a tent in the woods. These “additions” would bring comfort to my body and my psyche, translating into a happy camper. And isn’t that the point of going?

I might think a little more about throw pillows, though…