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Showing posts from May, 2010
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What is it about changing substrates that can make the same processes and techniques feel totally different. I've been focused on mixed media journals for months now; I don't know if it's the cost factor or the functionality. Working on something 'usable' made it easy to experiment, dive in, without any worries about outcome. And the low cost made for a non-existent risk factor. Making the leap to even a smallish canvas, one that cost more than half-dozen journals and has no purpose other than hanging on the wall, has proven to be a block. I've collaged and painted tons of smaller pieces - board, tins, oversized puzzle pieces - but this is my first 'large' canvas, though it's only 10 x 10. My DH is the opposite, most of his works are at least 2' wide. I look at my little tubs of Golden acrylics, dimensional paints, media, packets of glitter, rub-ons... my painting supplies last such a long time, a single 4' x 4' canvas would put a major

Alass

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Lately, my favorite part of a project is the beginning... as I've become more experienced at creating layers, textures, building up and sanding down, it never seems quite done. If I'm having a bad or creatively slow day I just make paper - pasting down scraps from the table, gelling and glittering, sponging and stenciling on the paint, just to get that... feeling of freedom that comes with making a mess, glue, etc. on the hands without (over)thinking. By the time the paint is dry I've usually gathered design elements that change repeatedly until the last bead is glued in place. At times I lose my focus and have trouble remembering what the theme was in the first place. I've happened upon some lovely trims that I'm tempted to overuse along with a handful or two of the incredible stash of bling that seems to be multiplying in boxes and piles on the studio floor (hope I'm showing restraint - ha.) I feel like I've finished a series (btw, the '7' and &#

S.W.A.P.

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In my lexicon, swap has come to mean "stick with a project," as in, meet the deadline. I always finish and mail the piece but my tardiness has become unacceptable. I tend to assign blame to my illness, after all, having to go to bed at 9:00 and sleeping until 9:00 with a nap or two does erase a few valuable hours from the day. But it's not all due to time, or lack thereof, or the needs of my children and ever-messy house. Disorganization has haunted me all my life and now is an enormous, unsavory beast that trails around behind me, taunting, from room to room, pointing, sneering at the piles, the clutter, the projects I should have done last week, last month, last year? I suppose the key to organization is getting that way and sticking to the habits of tossing, having a place for everything and replacing them when finished. OK, so now I'm laughing so hard my side hurts. This confessional brings to mind the fabulous conversation I had with the intrepid, gifted artis