The other day we gathered up the odds and ends of a couple of unfinished projects and put them in a jar on the coffee table. Now I step on fewer beads when I walk across the living room.
January 2007 Archives
As we fight off another round of fluish colds, we can't smell the flowers, but they are cheerful. The colors blend together in a reflection of my other thickened senses.
Another of the flowers bought yesterday. (Especially welcome at a time when the rest of the landscape is so black and white.)
Bought flowers at the grocery store today, for no reason other than that I felt like it.
You can smell this and you forget about winter - for a moment. Maybe we'll have it for breakfast tomorrow and pretend that we are someplace with longer days and brighter skies.
Today marked 100 days of drawing over at this year's Museum Drawing Project. I'm cross-posting this picture in honor of that milestone. As I wrote over there, I went in search of cake to celebrate, and found Manet's "Still Life with Brioche," instead.
This Playmobil child is either sleeping or throwing a tantrum - not sure which, as the person who arranged her is now asleep and can't be asked.
The right combination of lights were off and on in the back part of the house, putting a narrow bit of ficus tree in silhouette against a doorway, with the rest invisible in the surrounding darkness. I'd never noticed it that way before. (Every day I am surprised that there is something new to draw. Every day I am grateful.)
A pair of these started out as Christmas decorations. We've kept them on the mantel for a bit of green in a gray month.
My middle son was watching t.v. tonight and surfing the web. He said he didn't mind me drawing.
Half empty or half full? Or do you just say, "I think we need a different-sized glass?"
My wallet is easy to find. This could be a disadvantage, but the brightness also means that I notice when I am spending money.
Holding on to the edge of the sketchbook.
Crossing the border between week and weekend, work and rest. A friend visits. We talk about anything that occurs to us. We agree that we have to do this more often. Youngest child tries to stay awake and listen, but snuggles under a blanket and falls asleep on the sofa. Light snow may fall before morning.
Bought this to make pomegranate and brown lentil salad, after reading about it. Haven't cooked the lentils yet, but the weekend is coming soon.
Is it my imagination, or have the toothbrush people been talking to the designers of running shoes? My new toothbrush has rubberized tread on the back, with a two-tone body and three colors of bristles. Very sporty, and I'm sure each material was chosen to add some secret technical advantage to the brushing experience.
I like to look up at the wires in the city, to see how they divide the sky into sections, and connect the blocks. Some neighborhoods are lightly basted together, the wiring delicate, provisional; some neighborhoods are lashed down so tightly that you wonder if one of the row houses once tried to escape across the railroad tracks.
The first of twelve paintings is now posted over at Curbly.
Child's scissors, drawn in blind contour - no looking at the paper. I looked at it and then added gouache afterwards.
Wildlife at home. A pale yellow-green moth seems to like the Ikea standing lamp in the living room and has spent most of the night walking inside the shade or just perching on the side of the fluorescent bulb housing.
She turned up as the holiday decorations were being cleared away. I spent a month drawing her in November, though from a different angle.
Hung them all up, blank as they are, as a calendar for the year. Since I plan to paint on one each month, it will be fun to see how the wall changes between now and next December.
How I expect my hand will look in silhouette is not necessarily how my hand seems when I am drawing and painting it.
Inspired by the most recent study over at the Daily Painted Egg, here is my right index finger, painted from life, slightly larger than life-sized.
Looming on the horizon, empty.
A small chunk of green calcite, painted far larger than life. (My daughter has begun collecting minerals.)
Small curved square plate, made this fall with the help of a friend. Just the right size for the cashews I set out for a party.
The zippered pouch in which I keep small electronic gadgets and connectors: camera card reader, iPod cable, flash drive, video dongle, LED flashlight, and laptop remote.
Jalapeno pretzels turned out to be a bad idea, but fun to paint.
Plastic bottle - the kind that either has mineral oil or rubbing alcohol in it - better read the label on the other side to check. Quiet night at home - settling back into the rhythm of the work week. The moon was white and enormous in the sky this morning. Rain is forecast for tonight, so we'll have that sound to sleep with. (I have a tree right outside my window, and rain hitting the bare branches has a different sound from the rain on the street under the passing cars.)
I'm delighted to let you all know that I won a prize this week which translates to more art-making in the new year. The fabulous DIY and creative design blog Curbly offered to go shopping for anyone's holiday wish list, totaling $200 or less. My proposal was to buy a dozen canvases and some materials and an easel and to paint (and blog) one painting a month in 2007. Thank you to all who voted for me. I will let you know when I have finished the first painting. (The materials have been ordered and I am hitting "refresh" on the tracking websites...)
As for the nomination, woolgathering has been nominated for a Bloggie in the "best-kept secret weblog" category over at the Seventh Annual Weblog Awards website. Nominations are open until 10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on January 10, and the blogs with the most nominations will advance to the next round of voting. Anyone can nominate! Here's the link - support all your favorite blogs, and I hope you will consider a nomination for woolgathering. Thanks.
I never realized how many colors you could see in half a walnut - I was trying to limit my palette here, and kept needing other shades.
Boots on the floor. Fuzzy enough inside to be comfortable without socks, and this winter has been so mild that they are scarcely necessary. No snow to speak of. Yet.
After more than two weeks of family dinners and celebrations, our vacations are over tomorrow. I will get out new candles for the new year (we were out for dinner tonight) but paused here for a moment to think of all the laughter and conversation which went by as this candle burned down...
