Quoting Sheila E from the highly underrated Romance 1600:
"I... I need my jewels, my diamonds and things... lawd!"
So I have various deadlines on the horizon and it's time to get some things in gear.
First, ArtPrize deadline is looming and the gallery we are in has set their deadline for September 9 so we can get ready and have an artists' reception. For me, that means getting the last 104 pieces done. The creative well was empty and I have been looking at those cards with hate in my heart.
Looking to be productive, I hastily made a crib sheet for judging skating under IJS, and had extra cards left over from it. Hating to waste them, I began doodling, with the idea of creating my own dancer icon. Well, they were fun, fantastic really, and I began to work on stylizing the image to make it truly uniquely my own. This fit of creativity followed me to Novi for a skating competition and I drew a total of 32 while keeping up with the Tigers game and watching a documentary on Ozzy Osborne.
Rawk.
For the last 60-something, I am recreating a set of Loteria cards, a Mexican bingo game. Since there are only 54 bingo cards, I have 14 cards left to go. My inspiration? Will went into my makeup case and destroyed my Ulta set by poking fingers in pots and ruining the shadows and lipgloss. Some were salvagable, but for what? Inspired by sand arts and the use of "paint" on ladies, I plan to grind up what is left and use the shadows as pigments for a small series I plan to call "The Feminine Mystique." I'm hoping the colors will stick by using spray-on glue as a base and a clear coat on top.
Art, hell people!
For the art show slated for October in Spring Arbor, organizers were insistent that we have booths with wares for sale, but it had to be work from the specific categories. I submitted work under paintings and jewelry/crafts. I worked a mandatory overnight shift last week in the middle of the heat wave, and kept awake making necklaces, above. I got into a serious groove and with the last of my wire, produced 25 necklaces. I will sell them along with note cards I've imagined as the "Tiny Art Series," a mere extension of The Book of Geno, but a smaller scale, "greatest hits" version. I'm also producing some canvases and will have the Pine Rest paintings for sale and feature Liquid Gold in my booth.
Then there is skating. Michelle and I have been revamping my "Song of India" silver free skate, to take out things that don't work and retool things that do. The footwork is clunky, and spirals are my go-to, so the footwork was scrapped for the long, lean, lovely and challenging lines of my sequence. It's challenging since I have to hold two different positions on one long edge.
Ah, Kurt. A clown with the perfect blend of charm and pathos.
And then there's my new interpretive free skate, which is "Smile" as sung by Nat King Cole, kind of in tribute to my dad. It's a signature piece for Charlie Chaplin, so a melancholy clown figure is in order. Michelle doesn't like clowns, and with the piece in our hearts being an artistic/dramatic, don't want to go the pie-in-your-face route.
This led to Kurt Browning. His clown number from a few years ago is probably the single most spectacular exhibition free skates I have ever seen. I am hoping to take his look and the characterization and translate it into my own sad clown that finds that sunshine at the end after all.
Finally, it was time to re imagine the boy's bedroom. He's been jumping into our bed waaaay too much, and it maybe he was ready for a big boy bed. Easy enough, we had a twin in storage. Out went his Lightening McQueen toddler bed and the baby bedding. A quick vacuum and a few rearrangements, and the twin was up. In an effort to make his room HIS and reclaim parts of our house, I cleaned out then moved his toy box up to his room, placing it at the foot of his bed. Next up went the Doug Fister Detroit Tigers growth chart.
He loved it. He climbed into bed and pretended to snore. He jumped up and down on the mattress, and gazed in awe at the baseball poster. It's cozy and cute, and for now, clean.
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