Superwoman Sucks - A Lovely Rant

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The indecent pace at which I have been working of late has led me to one conclusion:  Superwoman sucks.

She's a giant liar.  We can't do it all, have it all, serve it all, and smile while we relax around it all.  Yet I uphold this ridiculous ideal that I should smile happily while I work 10 to 12 hours in a day, come home to serve supper to anyone waiting for it in the house, do the laundry, find time for my artwork, mark papers, then go to bed until the next day when more of the same awaits me.

Solution One - continuously use this blog as my personal Complaint Department.
Solution Two - quit my job, become a working-at-home mom and focus on my art
Solution Three - quit whining and merrily go about my life while finding engaging moments I can savor and carry a gratitude attitude

Wish I hadn't thought of Solution Three.  Now I have to do it.  FINE.  I'll do it happily, too.

Ranting ends here.

Teetering

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It's been a month since I posted!  How did that happen?  All I did was blink!  Well, maybe I did a little more than that....  Let's see...  Over the past 3 months... produced 52 paintings... had my first showing... started back to school... aha!  School - the Time Bandit.

When I was small, we lived in Naramata.  My parents were renting a vicarage, complete with a huge backyard where inviting leaf piles were demolished by yours truly in the fall.  I went to Kindergarten down the street, and of course there was a playground there.  The inviting wooden teeter-totter beckoned me continuously, and one day I spent more time on it than perhaps I ought.  When I finally returned to the house, my mother had the questionable pleasure of removing at least a dozen splinters from my hiney.  Yay for modern, splinter-free playgrounds!

Since the last few days of august, when I started back to school, I have felt exactly like my 5-year-old self on that teeter-totter; completely off-balance.  It's taken me a month to get the proverbial splinters out of my own behind well enough to sit and paint or blog or do anything other than mourn the loss of free time that was the gift of summer.  Silly girl!  I have discovered that it's better to stand in the middle of the see saw than sit on one end - especially when you play alone. 

Thank goodness I have the right shoes on for balancing - good grips and support.  Those lovely grips come from my quiet time in the morning.  I have committed to getting up between 5:30 and 6 daily to spend some time in prayer before beginning the day.  It centers me, reminds me what's important, gives me time to dedicate myself to my most important relationship, and helps me "get a grip".  The support in my shoes comes (of course!) from my family and dear, close friends.  Daily my husband and daughter and I spend evenings catching up and encouraging one another - what a great way to end the day. 

I'm still learning about balance.  For a while this month, I surely felt as though I were falling off one end.  I like the middle better.

Ironing Board Nemesis?

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"Here you go, Mom - I made you a picture so you'd always look at it and think about how mad you got!" She announced with great pride in her merriest voice.

I'd been working for 4 days on a painting.  4 days!  I'd read up on this neat-o technique that I just couldn't wait to try.  Got out the canvas I'd been saving, the glass beads medium that cost me an arm and a leg, and a whack of paint.  Off I went, playing and developing and turning this blank bit of taut cloth into something that I thought was going to be the best thing I'd done yet.  I was so thrilled with the way that this piece was turning out!

I carefully placed the acrylic skins where I wanted them, attending to details and making sure that things were "just so'.

I poured on a layer of polymer medium to make the watery part of the painting shiny and crackly.

I put the piece in the laundry room to cure.

On the ironing board.

Which wasn't level. 

Which made the dang polymer bleed a thick, pimply line of gloss into an area it wasn't SUPPOSED to go!

Well, that did it.  My perfectionist self reared its ugly head and started procuring (in a muttery sort of way) that colorful vocabulary that is rewarded in childhood with Ivory soap.  I picked at it.  I prodded.  I examined.  I fumed.  I criticized.

I did the dishes and vented to my family.

My husband took us for ice cream.  He's my hero and that's all there is to it.

Darling girl that she is, my daughter drew me a picture to commemorate my first "mistake", which now hangs on my basement wall beside my work area.  (No, really - nothing like this has happened in my 5 years of painting!)  I am standing beside a wilted painting, arms ended in tight fingers, and above my head is a pitch-black squiggle of fuming anger.  I have on the most impossible frown.  I'm also 25 pounds lighter.  It's a great picture.

The erroneous painting cured, and through some creative miracle hidden from my understanding, I was able to salvage the piece.  It may even be accurate to say that it looks better than it did before Mistake Day.

And now I have a wonderful hand-drawn "snapshot" of that moment when I perfectionism won out over the beautiful influences of crooked ironing boards.  (What a good reminder that I don't need an eraser.)

A Mantra for Tenacity

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The first invite to share my work in a marketplace was offered recently, as some of you may recall.  This morning, when I opened my email, it turned out that this offering was rescinded since so many of the vendors are having financial trouble and are pulling out of the fair.  What a disappointment!  My heart skipped a beat, to be sure.  I was so looking forward to being there!  I spent about 5 minutes wallowing in that lovely pool of self-pity that we all enjoy now and again, and then I pursued other avenues.  What else was out there?  Turns out that people get ready for Christmas artisan fairs right about now - in August!  It's so hard to wrap my head around that one, but I suppose it makes sense.  "Be prepared" thought the ex-girl scout.

I can't say this getting-off-my-hiney-after-having-been-kicked thing is a habit yet.  I have too often let fear stand in my way.  I suppose that's why I have only begun to share my artistic work with the world this year.  It's my full intention to make it a habit, though, let me tell you.  There's no way that setbacks will ever keep me down again!  At least, that's the plan.  Marva Collins had it right when she said, "Fail to plan, and plan to fail."  How's that for a little well-worn teacher-speak.  It works for me!

What is your tenacity mantra?