Life has changed, but love for our pets is eternal.
Here is a brief overview of the past eight-ish years:
-Diagnosed with CPTSD
-Got better
-Diagnosed with cancer
-Got better
-Had ovarian torsion, misdiagnosed, sent home, got very sick
-Became more sick
-Got better, but stayed a hermit
-Avalanche of personal loss
-Painting pets
Hello.
Don't let the light weight of the paper fool you. It's a dream to write on, and it even stands up to light washes of watercolor and thinned ink. This is the famed paper used in Hobonichi planners. Get this one of you are a journaler.
I originally purchashed the Leda Art Supply book because it was affordable, and soon fell in love. If you don't know where to start, try this one.
If you need to pick one, I would suggest going with the fine tip. In fact, I would suggest a brush pen over a set of microns if you're living the minimal life. But, I primarily draw small details, so your mileage may vary.
Are you planning on joining Inktober? What about Drawlloween?
Would you like more unSpooky Laughter in your life? Consider joining my mailing list. Members get freebies and store discounts.
I don't know who needs this but: The library probably has that book you want to read.
I had a large post planned for June, complete with charts!
But life has a way of being life-y, so instead I just want to say:
Human beings are complex, lumpy, weirdly gross, and lovable. I am excited for a future where it's ok for kids to just be themselves, and adults don't have to worry about the stuff that we need to worry about now.
I love how our hearts, our changing natures, and our diversity can make our communities strong.
ATC (in progress): Cold wax medium and oils, color shift pigment, pastels
It often seems like people will go to extremes when it comes to learning about the process of art - sign up for every possible class, invest in every possible widget, and buy enough supplies to keep an army of otters occupied for weeks. Or we invest in the bare minimum and stubbornly tell ourselves that we can learn everything we need to know just by force of will and intrepid curiosity.
I have been in both camps, and it seems to depend entirely on how I'm feeling about clutter. If I've stubbed a toe any time in recent memory then refusing to invest in "stuff" is the hill I will, at the very least, get exceptionally frustrated on. I can't say I'd die on it, because dead people don't get to make all that much art.
When I first invested in a tiny sample jar of cold wax medium, it gave my intuition a ZING!
'This is art love!' my intuition said. And then I promptly refused to buy any supplies beyond the tiny sample jar.
Eventually, I realized intrepid curiosity was turning into sour frustration.
It was time to invest in some education.
And that is how I came to invest in Cold Wax Medium: Techniques, Concepts & Conversations by Rebecca Crowell and Jerry McLaughlin.
Friends.
This is a profoundly helpful art instruction book.
It contains everything from detailed instructions, an overview of materials, a history lesson, and long lists of techniques to try.
It seems as if every effect I've admired in others' work is in here, along with instructions for replication. Far from a book that walks you through specific projects in the author's style, the assumption seems to be that the people reading the book have their own techniques and simply want a smorgasbord of new things to try.
I highly recommend it, and I can't wait to continue to experiment.
I hope everyone, whether this is a cherished holiday for you or not, managed to get some time outside with nature.
I've recently finished If You Ask Me by Betty White. And Yes, Please by Amy Poehler. And the 5 Second Rule by Mel Robbins.
I recommend all of them.
An itty bitty tiny weeny oil sketch of snake scales.
This was a huge stretch of time without painting. This winter was hard, divorce is hard, even having new and good things can be hard.
I wish I could say it felt great to be painting again. And it did, eventually.
But first, it felt sad and overwhelming, and I felt guilty.
There was a little voice that said to give up and fade away. That it was better to fade away than be judged. But I did not listen.
So I guess if you have a project, a passion, a calling and it's hard to fight momentum, just know that sometimes it's just hard. It's normal. I want people to know when it's difficult to move forward because I don't believe it helps anything to pretend that it's easy.
Being difficult is only bad if you give it permission to be bad. 🤷♀️
I'm proud of you.
We're going to find a way to heal the world.
Some weeks go a little smoother than others.
This week, I found myself thinking, 'I am empty. There's nothing left to give.'
Emotionally, I'd run out of stones to squeeze for water. For weeks, my Hobonichi doodle journal has been filled with sketches expressing my confusion and dismay with insomnia. There are days I didn't eat because I didn't have time or the mental wherewithal to figure out how to prepare meals.
And then, like so many others, I kept going.
I love mindfulness. But mindfulness is not really an answer. What mindfulness gives me is the knowledge that there's a question.
I can't answer anything if I don't know it was being asked.
Like so many rough patches, time with friends helps. I'm delightfully introverted, but people need people. Even art hermits.
With rough patches comes deep empathy for others. That is the thought that keeps me going, the belief that I'll be able to continue to live compassionately. Every iteration of a rough patch bringing me closer to wisdom.
I am worn out. I am taking time to check in with my thoughts, and most importantly I have a house guest to hang out with. If I have advice, it's to prioritize time with friends.
Like a flood of emptiness, this will recede.
We got this. Maybe not perfectly, but enough.
