As my artist's statement explains, my work is utterly incomprehensible and is therefore full of deep significance. -- Calvin and Hobbes

Friday, May 28, 2010

Familiar, Funny, and Demonstrative

Buddy Giraffe
Faber-Castell Colored pencil on Bristol Smooth

Tonight, I read my friend Alexia's regular newsletter, full of daily wisdom, funny and familiar. She that she was writing her morning pages, and made note of the vital 2500 word a day challenge that is out there. She also mentioned having hurt her knee while attempting to train with the couch to 5k program.

She reminded me of a story. Well, 2 stories, really. My knee was defiled by a fucktard snowboarder in Tahoe 4 years ago. But more recently, my hip is suddenly WHACK! It's so tight even bending over can be a problem. (probably also the fault of the snowboarder). All this physiological self-discovery came to pass when I started my own couch to 10k program a few weeks ago so a bunch of us could do the Peachtree Road Race (the largest 10k in the country, I've been told). My hip is so tight the chiropractor said, "NO running!" Find a swimming pool instead. and YOGA; do some of those sunrise poses." So, now I have to nurse this aging hip, instead of just running on a whim, with no prior training or exercise, like I did when I was 25. I don't understand why Maker's Mark and TV can't prepare me for that kind of thing.

Back to the snowboarder, briefly. Whoever the hell invented snowboarding should have his own damned mountain to board on, and bring the rest of the boarders with him, because they don't belong with skiers. I don't say this to be mean, I say this to keep skiers safe and to keep the slopes uncluttered from the discourteous, etiquette thrashing, malevolent effing teenagers who just stop for no other apparent reason right in the middle of a downhill slope than to 'take a break' as skiers are actually attempting to use the slope for SKIING! But maybe worse still are the wobbly snowboarders who grab people and drag them down when exiting the ski lift because they can't control their own balance, and have to completely destroy the cartilage of totally innocent skiers because they are too fracking clumsy and self-absorbed to just fall on their own off to the side somewhere!

Soooo, the other story...yea, this is gonna chew off a few people, but here goes, (and this is the really demonstrative part): The fracking morning pages. That book, specifically. I stopped reading the stupid book on chapter 4 or 5 when it said, "don't read this book for a week!"...I never went back. Then, like 4 months later, I decided to start again. whatever! Stopped again after the second night falling asleep thinking, 'yea, see, now I'm bored.'

Hello? What book says, "Stop reading me for a week, now that I am sure I have your attention!"
I seriously think the writer or editor should change that part. New Editions are good, mkay?
Anyway, had a yard sale with a girlfriend a couple months later, and her book was in the yard. (I chuckled under my breath).

I liked a lot of ideas in that book, though. I have always journaled, and I liked the suggestion that you always do your morning pages, just get up and get it out right away. I rarely do first thing in the morning, but I do write, and I think that was more the point for me than getting out my expletives before my second cup of coffee. I thanked Alexia and said, "Now I am going to go put this in my blog. Thanks for making me write tonight. he he."

Have a great safe holiday weekend!
Rebecca
Ps. I really do still write the pages, just not every morning.

Alexia is a terrific person, has a great site and is a very intuitive and helpful observer, and coach. Read more about Alexia Petrakos.
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Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Don't be Ridiculous!

"Fat and Happy"
Faber-Castell Colored Pencil on Bristol Smooth

I have often felt that I would never be taken seriously if I created only cartoon-ish-y art. In fact, that has been true, as I have been rejected at times as a serious artist. I have even canceled listings because when I looked back, I felt it just wasn't good enough. But, there is plenty of "serious" art that doesn't make me feel good, so what good is it after all?

Eh, who cares anymore?!!! I think the goal here is to do what makes you happy, and what you seem to be good at performing. I'm still not sure what I am best at performing, but I'm turning a new leaf and I am no longer going to pout that I haven't really painted a still life since college, (and I'm not upset about it.)

Also, I've been afraid to say I would begin my painting a day challenge just because I know I'd be bound to miss some days. Screw that charade as well!

So, to start small, I will create an aceo a day! Maybe I'll work up to the oswoa size for the Daily Painter's site! I will post some and throw in some more Rhinos and history lessons! yay!

My blog has moved to my website! I wont be posting here forever, so I hope you will find your way to it an follow for a little fun now and then!

Smelly Rhino's Blog

For all of you who are illustrators and whimsical artists, power on!

Have an inspired day!


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Saturday, May 8, 2010

A reluctant trip to the casino

The Rice/Kusel Family
Circa 1998

Yesterday I woke up to the email you never want to read.

My cousin, in an obviously grieving state, sent out a broadcast to the family that her Dad had passed during the night. It was early in the morning, but I think even if she had been able to muster the will, 10 phone calls would have been beyond the abilities of a daughter who just lost her Daddy. Cy Kusel was her Daddy and my Uncle. He is pictured furthest to the right, nudged between his daughter and his wife.

Next week, I will drive to Indianapolis, pick up my Mother from the airport and spend the time needed to add a little love to the situation, and share some fond memories of my dear Uncle.

Cy loved to tell stories about how much his favorite niece (me) liked to talk. He said my Mother would constantly complain to her sister and brother-in-law (my uncle Cy) that she was getting impatient waiting for me talk. She wont say anything, Mom would say. I made plenty of noise, I'm willing to bet. But behaviorists will tell you that often the youngest child will be the last to talk as a result of the older children speaking on her behalf. I had 3 older brothers, who, I'm guessing, were able to look at me and tell Mom exactly what I wanted and needed, thereby making my work at communication quite literally, unimportant. This may explain many things, now that I think a little more about it... like, for example, my desire to be completely taken care of, not ever lifting a finger. (or is that a consequence of being female?)

Anyway, back to the story. So Uncle Cy would say to my Mother, "Don't worry, Carolyn, one day you will miss the silence. That one day came when I was 4, and all at once, I was speaking in eloquent and demanding full sentences. Uncle Cy was happy to recount the end of the story ..."Then, we couldn't shut her up!"

I'm afraid not much has changed.

On the way home from my unfortunate family visit, I'll stop by another cousin's, who is is near Louisville, and maybe play a slot or two at the Riverboat Casino there. Hey, you have to find the best in any bad situation.

Now, time for a little silence.
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