"Yuletide"

This was our Christmas card. Hadn't done any real artwork in quite a while, so it felt good to get back into drawing. The picture is done in Sharpies and watercolor pencil.

Also, I had been trying to come up with a cartouche-type signature for a long time, but could never get the R to work well in the designs. Then, as per usual, at around 3:00 am, as I lay wide awake, it hit me. Turn the R around. I tried it, and really liked the way it looked. Only thing I think I will change, is to square off the ends of the enclosing triangle, so it doesn't look quite so much like a Caution sign. LOL

Two Badass Redheads!

Who Dusts?

Sorry, it’s been a while, I know. Summer was a busy one, but, I’m back now, and I have a question.

From my personal library I am re-reading a very excellent art book called Art Making & Studio Spaces by Lynne Perrella. It is a showcase of 31 artists and the places they work their individual styles of magic. Eye-candy to the max. Loads of ideas. But...

Each of these studios is crammed with stuff—supplies, books, baskets of fabric or paint tubes, collections of figurines, seed pods, chunks of wood, toys, personal shrines, artwork of their own and by other artists, ephemera...just about anything an artist needs for work or inspiration. In almost all of them there is not one inch of table, shelf, or cupboard space that is not covered with something. And in every studio there was not one speck of dust. Nary one spider web clinging to a corner of the ceiling...nadda.

Now, I realize that in a photo shoot for a book you would clean your studio to within an inch of its life, and they probably had a set decorator or stylist to help arrange things in more photogenic ways...but what about the rest of the time? These places would be dust magnets. Who is going to go around and dust bits of dried grasses, tiny Simpson figurines, or shelves full of Day of the Dead statues? Really. It’s a duster’s nightmare.

And no spider webs? Come on. Not one? Spiders would love these places. Hideouts galore. Maybe they were there and camera shy...but the webs should have shown up somewhere. An artist studio without one spider seems a bit too sterile for me somehow.

And don’t get me started on flooring. Carpet...in a studio? Seriously? Even if your art form is sewing or quilting, I know from experience that pins love to hide in carpet, and are only found by me stepping on them. In one studio it looked like, under a table with drips of paint dried to its edge, was what looked like pristine beige carpet. So, where did all those paint drips go? Does this person go to all the trouble of putting a big drop cloth under the table when she works, and then pulls it away the rest of the time? Seems like a lot of work. Why not just have a paint-friendly floor in the first place? It’s a studio, after all. The floor is meant to get grubby and paint-spattered.

So, that’s my question. When the camera crew is gone, and life goes back to normal for these artists....who dusts?

You Don't Work, You're Retired.

Someone said that to me recently. It sounded as if I had been consigned to an old farts home...pushed out of life’s loop. That I spend my days sitting in a rocker knitting socks for charity. It implied that once you retire, you cease to work...at anything. You’re just waiting around for the “big one” to hit and take you out. The junk mail from hearing aid companies, assisted living facilities, long term health insurance, and funeral/cremation plans, doesn’t help.

Or, maybe it implies that I now spend my days either sitting in a club house after a round of golf, cruising the country in an enormous, gas-gussling motorcoach, becoming a “Snowbird” and heading to Arizona for the winter, or taking long cruises on luxury liners—okay, so I’ve done that once, because I wanted to go through the Panama Canal, which was awesome.

I don’t work? Right, I don’t work 9-5 at a desk with a little brass placard that reads, “Sharon Robb-Chism, Escrow Assistant” I had one that read just that, once. Among other titles, in other years: Office Manager, Shipping/Receiving Clerk, Sales Assistant, etc. And yeah, I don’t have to deal with insane escrow deadlines, loudmouthed construction workers, rude delivery men, and bitchy teenagers whining about how they hate the clothes being picked out for them and paid for by their mothers, for the new school term.

So, if I had a desk, what titles would that placard have on it now? Gosh, let me think.

Housekeeper (I admit, not my most dedicated work, but I don’t live in a pig pen either), cook (I am good at this), laundry lady, home accountant, yard & BIG garden maintenance lady, landscape manual laborer, home nurse—human and animal, animal feeder, spa maintenance lady, stable hand, stall mucker, horse groomer and trainer (of our own horses), jewelry designer, personal jewelry web-site updater, artist—published, writer—published, photographer—published, reenactor—pirate and medieval, equestrian gamer, costumer—for human and horse, internet forum moderator (not too arduous, this, but still), and last but most importantly, loving and supportive wife.

I don’t need a placard, I need a billboard.

Yeah, I’m retired, but not work? Get real. I work my ass off every single day at one or more of the above. Mostly more, especially during the summer. Would I give all that up for a nice 9-5 desk job? Not on your life. I’d still have to do half the stuff on that list and hold down a day job. Which is what I was doing before I retired, and had all this time to sit around in my rocker and read junk mail implying that my body already has one foot in the grave. NOT! However, I am ready for another cruise on a luxury liner. Maybe the Med this time, or Australia?

FIRE!

Here is a great shot of me, and my friend Jill, in our pirate personas of Ransom and Red-Handed Jill. We're just about to touch the slow matches to the fuse on the cannons (called guns on board a ship). We are on the deck of the Aldebaran, making ready to fire on the shore battery at The Northern California Pirate Festival. We had SO much fun. Can you tell?

The picture was taken from shore by a friend with a great camera. His pirate name is Crunchy. :=)

Still Playing After All These Years

My husband and I just got back from spending four days playing pirates at the HUGE Northern California Pirate Festival...or as us insiders know it, NorCal. Held every year over Father’s Day weekend in Vallejo, CA, it is an event we look forward to every year. We get to hang out with all our pirate buddies, dress up and act silly, listen to music, dance, eat good food, and best of all, be part of the crew of the schooner Aldebaran, and fire cannons! So, at an age when I’m expecting my first Social Security check, I am still playing—and loving every minute of it.

Playing—it’s not just for kids. Playing is good for you. Playing keeps you sane, gets you away from the doom and gloom of the news headlines, gets you away from your job worries, keeps you interested in things, keeps you from becoming the stogy old fart everyone avoids like the plague. I never want to get to a point in my life where I no longer want to throw on a costume and go play...at whatever.

Trying new things. I never want to get to a place in my life where I am afraid to try new things. As part of the crew of the Aldebaran we get to help sail her to the event site. When Captain Hayden, midway through the sail from Richmond to Vallejo, asked if anyone wanted to take the helm and see how it felt to steer a 72’ schooner, I jumped at the chance. For fifteen minutes I got the experience of a lifetime, feeling how truly alive a ship is, how to keep her pointed in the correct direction—nothing like driving a car—and getting just a hint of the thrill and also the responsibility of being at the helm of a ship. It was scary and exciting, and I loved it!

I’m lucky, in that at age 62, I am still physically fit, still active, and the only health issue I have to deal with is a mildly annoying hyoidal hernia—which I gave to myself by each winter lugging in heavy boxes of fire wood for the wood stove for twenty years. I still ride my horse, do barn chores, and work in a large garden all Spring through Fall. All that helps keep me moving and limber. For now, when I ask my body to do something, it pretty much answers, “Right.” I know my limits, and I tend to push them, but not to the point of stupidity. So far, that plan works for me.

So, pirate or Steam Punk, Medieval or barbarian, or just fooling around on Halloween, I’m there, still playing dress-up, still learning new things, and best of all, still playing. If I’m lucky, eventually I’ll drop dead in the middle of, “Oh wow, that was so much fun, I can’t wait to—”

The Process

I noticed that on a lot of blogs by artists, they post pictures of the process they go through in order to create a piece, whether painting, drawing, collage, sewing, or...jewelry. So, I thought maybe I should do the same, and talk a little about how I work. Not riveting stuff, but since I like to see how people go through the creative process, I thought others might like to see mine.

I try to do a lot of recycling in my pieces. I haunt junk shops, antique stores, and garage sales—why let all that great old stuff go to waste? When I do this, I have a price ceiling...I won’t pay more than $20 for anything...whether it’s a bag of parts, or a complete piece that I can take apart and turn into many pieces. Usually I end up spending anywhere from $1 to $10 average. Many of my friends pick up things for me, or if they are thinking of sending old stuff to the Goodwill, they let me look it over first. That’s always fun.

When I start a piece, I have a vague idea of what I want, and then I start pulling out beads, bits, charms, old pendants, buttons, etc. and play around with them. It’s usually the color that grabs me, and I go from there. An arrangement will finally satisfy me, and then I put the whole thing together. Next, I take it for a test run. I wear it, making sure everything stays where it’s supposed to, and that it drapes/hangs nicely, and is comfortable—nothing poking anywhere. If that all checks out, then it’s done, and I put it up on my Etsy shop. If no one seems interested after a certain length of time, I may take the piece apart and make something else.

So, that’s it. Here are the elements I used in the necklace pictured.

Red sections from an old necklace (ca. 1960s, I think) that I took apart. It has purple, light purple, and red sections. I used only the red, so have lots of other sections left over to use on something else. That old necklace was long, and I have made other pieces from it already. Since it was given to me by a friend, it didn’t cost me a dime.

Gold metal leaves that I inherited from my husband’s mother after she passed away. She had a ton of craft stuff, and Robert’s sisters were kind enough to share it with me. I’ve used these leaves on lots of things, and will be sad when they are finally gone.

“Gold” covered copper wire. I am still learning how to work with wire, which has a mind of its own. The links for this necklace were made with 1” pieces of wire, a black bead added, then twisted in an S-curve. I like making my own links, because I can add any type of bead/chip I want, to match the rest of the elements.

Misc. beads and small metal leaves. These are all over-the-counter bits, purchased at either Michael’s, JoAnn’s or Craft Warehouse. So are the jump rings, clasp, and head-pins.

The pictures are of the work in progress, and then the finished piece. I wear a lot of black, so I’m thinking this little gem I will keep for myself. But since I am getting rather addicted to making chain and bead links, another one will be in the works soon. Who knows, I may like the next one better and give this one up.