If you stop making art, the terrorists win

During the past two months, I've been dealing with things that terrify me: conflict and money. Life is reminding me I have limited control over how fast I can get this thing done. And the Thing can't be done without a certain person who disappears from view unless his priorities happen to coincide with mine.

Have also noticed it seems I make more art when I'm stressed out. I now understand Twyla Tharp a lot better: "Art is the only way to run away without leaving home."

So I tried to divert some of my energy away from worrying and toward altering more postcards. Which is what I meant to be doing anyhow.














Here are a few peeks (not "peaks" or "piques") of the finished card. If I could make another card every time I felt this stressed out, I'd have enough to wallpaper the Great Wall of China.

Shiny, at times brilliant

I've been meaning to post this for a while... LK Ludwig passed on the love and named my lil' ol' blog Brillante. Besides being a sweet thing to do while she was up to her eyeballs in work, LK lifted my spirits on a day I wasn't feeling brilliant in any sense of the word. She lurks on my blog (her words). Imagine that.

Of course, there are rules:

1) Put the logo on your blog
2) Add a link to the person who awarded you
3) Nominate at least seven other blogs
4) Add links to those blogs on yours
5) Leave a message for your nominees on their blogs

Seven other blogs... hmmm... I know some of the other folks won't do this, but I just like reminding them that I think they rock the cas-blog:

1) Lisa Hoffman (good thing we don't live next door to each other. Our men would constantly be retrieving us from the other house)
2) Tally Oliveau (she'd be my Big Love sister-wife, if it weren't for the illegal, appallingly sexist , already-got-a-husband-thanks aspects of the arrangement)
3 ) Jane Wynn(she's made the big jump out of the day-job world recently into full-time arting. Whoa.)
4) Laurel Steven (chunky clay-heart goodness, and a loyal reader)
5) Julie Brill Molina (makes me laugh my ass off. You see I have none left)
6) Catherine Witherell (I would follow her in her glorious precious-metal-clay footsteps, but for me that way lies bankruptcy)
7) Judy Wilkenfeld (her artist books make me stutter in awe and amazement -- and she's so modest about them)

EDIT: Honorable mention: Blaiz Christopher, whom I didn't realize had a blog. But fortunately, she's recently been named Brillante too, so that work's been done for me.

Gotta go and shine up the brilliance for work.

It was really hot last night.

Not by my old, high-desert standards, but certainly by the yardstick I use when I'm pregnant in the summer. Usually my hands and feet get cold easily. But that hasn't happened since, like, April. I am now at the belly-as-portable-shelf stage, and I'm only in the second trimester. So I will be big. Beeeeeeeeeeeg. As my dad used to say cheerfully, "Don't worry. It'll get worse."
So The Husband thinks ahead and picks up some ice cream. I come home from work and put on his old undershirt, which is long enough to be worn as a (flimsy, obscenely short) shirtdress at home. We keep the lights off and the fan on. It would be nice to have central air conditioning, but even summer heat here is kind of intermittent. So every summer, people run to the hardware store for ginormous fans that they'll use for two weeks, max.

I once read a novel set in pre-revolutionary China that depicted a family who could afford marble or slate floors... the family would cool down on summer nights by sleeping on the floors, with just a thin bedding layer between them and the cold stone.

Ooh... Coldstone Ice Cream. There's a thought.