A Slacker and her Cat

With 2014 hours away, I would normally wrap up the past year.  That was mostly covered, however, in What a Difference a Year Makes.

Since October, this artist has been slacking off quite a bit.  A bit of sketching here and there, a touch of watercolor and the end of clay time.  All types of artists have periods with no desire to create.  Some keep plugging away and some go on hiatus.  I've mostly been on hiatus.  Perhaps those few months of extra stress and the time-consuming pottery class are to blame.  Or maybe I needed the time off.  Or maybe I'm just making excuses because it's difficult to make time for art every day when you're not in the mood.  It's easy to not pick up the pencil… work, family, cooking, cleaning, reading, TV, perusing art blogs… all those things can be easier than starting and failing and learning and failing and trying again.  My sister showed me this talk by John Cleese about what it takes to make your life more creative… space, time, time, confidence, and humor.  Yes, he mentions time twice.  You have to put in the time and be willing to play with the problems and ideas and not grab the first solution just to avoid the discomfort of indecision.  He's humorous and wise.  Go watch it.

On a lighter note - I received multiple art journey gifts for Christmas, one of which was a chair to sit at my art desk.  No more stealing the kitchen stool!  It took Milo less than a day to claim my new seat.

Apparently, I'm supposed to share… or just give it to him.  I have a feeling it's the latter.

A Case for Christmas Letters

Time out from art today.  This post is devoted to a subject I've pondered much the past few Christmas seasons.

I absolutely completely adore Christmas letters - long, short, funny, braggy - whatever, bring it on.

I've noticed, as the years go by, Christmas letters are disappearing.  Greetings are sent via e-cards or festive Facebook posts.  I do understand people are busy and letter writing is falling (has fallen) out of fashion, but it's still sad.  We may have seen the post about your new cat or heard about your new job last spring, but there's a good chance we've forgotten it or the details are fuzzy now.  Christmas letters are reminders - connections - a moment to reach out and say "Hey there, you have touched our lives."  Whether long ago or yesterday, the recipient is part of your story and you want to hold on, to let them know what's happening, and hope they feel the same.  It's not (or shouldn't be) an obligation or a bother.  That's not to say it's all stress-free, but it's good in the same way planning parties can be a bit of crazy fun.

When Christmas cards and letters arrive with the bills, the day is brighter.  I sit down and savor the greetings and yearly news.  They are then put aside for my husband, who follows the same routine when he gets home.  We chat about their new news or news we forgot and I tuck the cards in a basket by the fireplace.

After New Year's, when the house returns to ordinary decor, an evening is spent sorting through the cards and letters.  Everything is saved until next year's cards are addressed.  However, I first pull out letters and photos for my Christmas binders.  My hubby and I started dating in the mid 80's and married in 1988.  Since then, every letter and every card with the slightest bit of news or touching thought has been saved.  I got ambitious several years ago and made a home for them.  We now have three fat Christmas binders.


I treasure those memory-crammed binders.

There are letters and photos from some no longer with us - the old boss & friend who brought my husband and I together, a fun-loving cousin who lost her fight with cancer, and aunts and uncles now dearly missed.  How important those pages are now!

     

The "title" page gains a little creativity each year.

Smiling family and friends begin the yearly parade, followed by the letters.  There is some hilarious exaggeration - one cousin discovered oil in his yard and his wife won the lottery - wink, wink.  There are sad stories and funny stories.  Of course, there are boring stories and plenty of bragging, but that's life isn't it?  It's sad and funny and boring and exciting.  Stay connected - share it all, not just the Normal Rockwell version.  I've included my son breaking a window and my small daughter sharing fender bender details with cashiers.

The binders also hold letters I've written since 1993 - the year we lost my mother-in-law and the year our second child was born.  I used to write a few lines in every card.  That was the first year I had too much news and not enough time.  So, I typed up a letter and tucked it in the cards.  Good or bad, haven't missed a year since then.

Each year, I look through our calendars, photos, and (nowadays) Facebook and blog posts.  A list is made, a theme is planned and a draft is roughed out.  Sometimes it's just a letter, sometimes a quiz, sometimes a list.  Last year it was illustrated - a benefit of the art trek.  This year has been nutso and I'm limited on time, so we're keeping it to a month by month wrap up.  Since a few of you may be on my card list - that's all I'm saying for now.

And that's my case for Christmas letters.  Maybe, if you tend to groan a little at Aunt Fannie's yearly missive, you'll cherish it just a bit this year.  And maybe, just maybe, you'll consider penning your own letter next year.  Go ahead, mark it down for the end of November.

Our basket of family and friends saying "Hey there!"

Put a Lid on it

The pottery class finally came to an end tonight.  I am relieved (We get our evenings back!), somewhat triumphant, and a tad melancholy.  Did I accomplish what I set out to do?  Well let's see…

• Step out of my drawing comfort zone - check.
• Relearn wheel throwing - check (mostly).
• Create a bunch of nicely formed pots - eh, not so much.
• Fight bossy, perfectionist voice and accept wabi sabi - check, uncheck, check, uncheck...
• Add to the creative well - check.

Tonight we informally presented and critiqued our pieces.  A wonderful array of styles and skill levels were displayed.  It's interesting to hear artists (regardless of age and experience) explain their work - their disappointments and triumphs.  We are so much alike - generally too hard on ourselves.  I got a little windy explaining mine (kind of like this post).  The complementary and insightful comments of Josh and my classmates were much appreciated.

One of my first pieces - creating something a little bit lovely out of an oops.

One of my last pieces.  I'm quite happy with this dish and lid that actually fit together.

Everyone who knows I took this class asks if I'm taking another one in the spring.  The spring class focuses on throwing - probably should've taken that first.  Josh encouraged me to come back and I may consider it, but not right away.  Give me unlimited time, funds and a chef, then yes, I would.  If you've been following these posts over the past year, you know I'm not good with follow through.  I want to learn and master too many things and I have a hard time focusing on one.  Time to get back to pencils and brushes and see if the clay bug bites again somewhere down the road.

Oh. … sudden realization moment...

Criminy…. while typing "pencils" the thought came to me that I signed up for The Sketchbook Project... several months ago.  Oy vey.  That needs to be done and sent in by January 15.  My husband asked me last night what was next on my artistic agenda since my class is ending.  At the time I said "Not sure, I think I'll work through one of my drawing books."  Well, I guess I just found my next project - at least until mid January.

PS - I'm never doing NaBloPoMo again.  More writing - less arting - not good.

PPS - Homework is for the birds, or maybe just young degree-seeking college students.