When I Grow Too Old

I've always liked this song. I like to sing it around this place that I call home. I also sing it in the car. Of course, one has to be in the mood to sing something so sweet.

Rain on my windshield

I was going to walk to the studio in the rain last night, but didn't—a smart decision given how much rain was falling when I left. When I got in my car to go to the studio, the streetlights were shining and casting cool shadows on my arms and clothes—I've loved that since the first time I noticed it. I decided to take out my camera and try to capture some of the coolness that I was seeing. Apparently, the raindrops were a little startled to be captured for mass consumption. Funny how my sleeve looks like a hat.

This one's a real kicker!

Boy, this most-recent collage is troubling me! One night I nearly cut it in pieces. Somehow i'm trying to keep the faith that it will all turn out fine.

I guess that's part of the creative process—not knowing, but having faith anyway. Sounds religious, which I'm not. It's certainly a kind of trust, trust that I'll be able to make it work out somehow. Maybe all these paintings aren't meant to get whipped out in five days. Maybe some are meant to stew a bit. It's hard to not know.

I have a hard time because I'm torn between painting and making some hats. The painting has been very fulfilling, and when I look at all the collages I see a depth of my expression that just can't come from making a hat. But there will be two more events this year, at which people will expect to be trying on hats. Balance. I was never very good with my balance—I'm all lop-sided. Hopefully I'll figure it out.

The Painting Continues... Painfully

So I'm still working on my painting, but it has been a painful struggle. I keep thinking that I'm saying something, and then next thing you know, I'm not saying a damn thing. Still, I don't want to give up on it.

Here you go, watch the struggle with my minimal comments.

Added brambles to the bottom.

Got rid of big, clowny footprints. They know they're there—I let them go.

Added gear and watch face.

Studio mate commented on the little girl and how she didn't seem to belong. He was right, but removing her was hard. I tested it with a piece of paper first to make sure. Added a pomegranate and six of the seeds.

Just plain struggling. Studio mate tried to be helpful. Rejecting his ideas can be very insightful. Though I say it's a bit of a random process, I guess it's not that random. There is something that I'm looking for, and I can't find it in every image I pick up.

My other three mixed-media collages have come back from the framers. Maybe I need to hang them in the studio so I can remind myself about the technical details that I like about them. As I fought with the current piece, I thought back. I kept coming back to the word "movement". This piece seems so flat. In those other pieces there's all kinds of movement. Movement around the canvas, seemingly movement through time, and through depths on the two-dimensional surface. That's where I need to work now—hopefully that's where this is headed. I guess this is where the magic happens. I hope I can pull it together because yesterday I was ready to cut it in pieces.

The Deadline of "Mazu"

Well, I managed to make the deadline with the headpiece. It was a very tiring experience and my understanding of the project seemed to get less clear the more tired I got. But a few of the right words and it made more sense. I delivered and I think it's good—it serves the purpose of what it's trying to do. Red was to be a dominant color as the character represents "Mazu" an Asian sea goddess who is often portrayed wearing red.