Open Me First

Jams has discovered the Christmas Tree......and as you can see, her tongue is sticking out. This, I'm sure, is her general 'nyah nyah ny-ya ya' attitude towards all things human and me trying to curb her reborn kitten-ish tendency to boink the balls around. (hm-m-m-m-m-m....that's almost a song right there...."Boink the balls with claws of fury....la-la-la-la-la, la la la la. We don't care if it makes you squirrely....la-la-la-la-la, la la la la.")
Moving right along, I'd like to apologise for being tardy with a post for the weekend. My pc is acting up; or would that be 'down' as it has slowed to the speed of waiting to grow up when you're a kid. A slower-than-waiting-for-the-kettle-to-boil speed is the actual operational celerity of my PC due to Dial-up, a Zen exercise in patience every day may I add, but lately it has become even worse. And fully attributable, I'm doubly sure, to me trying to 'fix' my printer problems by reinstalling the program for that and obviously screwing up along the way.
'Dear Santa, I have been a good girl, mainly because I'm all by myself and sadly getting a wee bit long in the tooth to mis-behave anymore, so please could I have some gorgeous hunky Techy guy to be at my beck and call this Christmas. Your friend and believer of myths, Marla. P.S. The Rumballs are for Rudolph'
....I think perhaps not going to happen.
Anyareweintotheeggnogalreadyway, it is apparent that a new PC is in order for me but I hesitate because of...well, money firstly and that I am hoping I can move from this benighted area of 'no high speed connection until hell freezes over' into a town which has caught up to the world at large.
I seriously need 'a' Santa.

Clap Your Hands

Ah yes......here we go with the perpetual question of this time of year , "Do you believe in ---------------", and you can fill in the blank with any particular character of choice, biblical or otherwise. I've been watching the argument between two acquaintances (Facebook, the world is at your kitchen table) about good old Santa and the pros and cons of having your child/ren believe in that generational hoax; because that's pretty much what it is if you want to get technical; and so far there is a two way tie.

Apart from the whole 'bad/good' underlying judgement on the above, let's just think about 'believing' in of itself.

My Webster's Dictionary (does anyone still actually use a dictionary anymore?) defines believe as:

"1. to take as true, real etc., 2. to have confidence in a statement or promise of, 3. to suppose, assume"

Ok, that's pretty clear. But what is it - that 'thing' that makes believing, for lack of a better word, 'work'?

Isn't it imagination?

That oh so unfathomable place our mind goes to whenever we dream or think of what may be or even create.

And when we are young we seem to have it in spades and we can believe in a funny fat old man bringing us our heart's desire all in one night. I remember when little, I used to believe that if I loved my treasured stuffed monkey toy enough it would come alive. And that's pretty much stretching the envelope of concievability right there but I did. (and no, 'Chimpy' didn't, more's the pity)

AnyIdohaveapointway, aren't most of our beliefs pretty much nebulous in the realm of true/real? From the reading I've done over the years about Science (and there's a 'grounded-in-reality' topic) a lot of what we 'believed' as true has proven out not to be so. But all that aside, I guess what I'm saying is that without imagination we would be a sorry lot. Who cares if 'it' (whatever your 'it' is) can't be proved, just the fact that you can dream/ponder/create this scenario in your world is a wondrous thing.

I am entranced when I paint because I am making real the believed vision in my mind.....what a joy.

So dream on oh beloved reader - imagine the world and create your vision.

And I hope Santa visits you still. 

The painting - Sadly, I could find no attribute to the accompanying pic and enlarging the image only made the writing blurrier. (something something dot com???) But it is just astoundingly right on for expression and feeling, maudlin as it is. Oh, and "Clap Your Hands" refers to Peter Pan and when Tinkerbell almost died and you had to 'clap your hands' to prove you believed in faries to keep her alive. You betcha I clapped...I still do.

All The Wonder of The World

Sometime yesterday I was browsing the Internet for images of Christmas and came across an illustration from an old kid's book. That little interlude led me down the rabbit hole of vintage children's books, and a search for the rekindled remembrances of a tome that I had when young - oh these many eons ago. The thing about this book of my tender years, was the remarkable illustrations that were a catalyst in my brain to the artist I am today.  I can still recall the hours I'd pour over them, trying to decipher 'how it was done'. I'm doubly sure that the influences of those drawings by the likes of Arthur Rackham and Howard Pyle and L. Leslie Brooke, stay with me to this day. Magic, just bleedin' eye magic when I was a kid. Sadly I couldn't find that volume from my youth....probably remembering the title wrong, but I can visualize the exact embossed brown/gold cover and small attached illustration on it like a crystal clear pool. The book happened to be poetry....maybe R. L. Stevenson's...? Ah well....
Anylostinthemistsoftimeway,  what this has me contemplating is how lucky I was to grow up before TV became the insidious monster it has become. We read. And thank you all the fates for that singular skill.
Books have given me more than anything else in my life.
So! Since we are upon the seasonal mind altering chaos of 'what-to-give', may I suggest books? And not a book from Amazon (sorry A. ) but a book or books you trot down to your local little bookstore to buy. You need to immerse yourself in the whole experience of that unalloyed 'bookstore-ishness' that can only be felt behind those doors as you cruise the shelves. And since most bookstores now offer some great coffee, have one of those too.
You may never know what you'll inspire or cause to happen, but I guarantee a book is the best gift ever.
(and may I also add that ART books are the shizzle too)

The pic is an illustration from 'Alice in Wonderland' (by Lewis Carrol) by Arthur Rackham. Loved his work from the get-go although I did have someone once say that his 'fingers' terrified them when they were young.
Ah....imagination!

All Is NOT Merry and Bright

Oh Rumballs, it's Christmas time.......and I am noticing an alarming tendency in myself towards the above character. Sadly.
What has happened to make this 'used-to-be-thoroughly-enjoyed' time of year so well, fraught with grumpy behavior by yours truly?
Being single.
At least I think so. And maybe the way too many events and obligated duties there seem to be piling up right now. I was a right Bee-hatch at the Gala. I am ashamed of myself.
Anywewillhavecoalinourstockingway, I've done it to myself by being the organizer/planner/head honcho so the fault lies squarely upon this artistic head. (just say "No.") (ye-ah...that singular function seems to be missing in my programming)
But I do find being 'just me' exceedingly forlorn at this particular junction of the year. Not that I am without invitations and extended gatherings to participate in - far from it! And with my crazy blended family it is a great celebration of getting together.
But! But but but.....
I always feel as though I'm on the periferal edge of it all; slightly out-of-step; decidedly uncomfortable and waiting until I can slip away to be alone again > the thing that makes all this angst happen.
What a pastiche of behavior. "Paging Dr. Freud!"
 (A pastiche is a literary or other artistic genre or technique that is a "hodge-podge" ... in this sense is 'a medley of various ingredients; a hotchpotch, farrago, jumble.')
I have a horrifying vision of being the eccentric old crank Emily Carr became. ( I shall wheel Jams about in an old baby buggy....like Jams would put up with that!....and scowl at everyone. )
But, oh boy, do I ever understand why she did.

The image is, of course, the talented Mr. Jim Carey (Canadian!) as the Grinch.
"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch....la la la, la la la......Stink, Stank, Stunk!"
(All I can remember of that song....)

...and the winner is....

Here it is....the GALA GAL Trophy.
And:

GALA GUY.
Worth dressing up to win these babies, huh?
The Christmas Gala is something I've been involved with for about 4 years now, mainly organizing the Artists and designing the Poster and decorating the room. We are a 100% fund raiser for our community - this year the extended care wing in the hospital and the Seniors home. We get local eateries to provide top notch nosh and have a dancy band and get the place set up as posh as it can be. With a silent auction of all sorts of goodies graciously and generously donated by our town's folks.
A crackin' good time!
And a way to do good while having a great time.
I started making these one-of-a-kind trophies about 3 years ago - mainly to get the people around here to dress up.
But I repeat myself.....anynowIamgettingoldway, I admit to being highly entertained making them. And the Gallery in the next town wants to have me put them in there for sale.....yikers....I was only foolin' around!
Go figure.

Short but Sweet....

As I wait for the sun to be up high enough in the sky to be able to don my outdoor painting gear and spray paint the final coat on the Trophies, I have been casually scanning the myriad effluvia out there in cyber-space and came across an article on being a short man and all the woes about getting a woman etc etc yaddity yadda.
Now apart from the fact this has virtually nothing at all to do with art; although maybe it does when you think about painting large canvases, which I do, (something very Freudian about 'small woman paint big'...no?) and how occasionally I also paint large murals many feet high; I'd like to say that: I am short.
I am not only short, I am really short, like about 5 feet even and that will change apparently as I get (even) older thanks-very-much as visions of a gnarled and creepy dwarfish crone traverses through my head.
Anyshe'soffagainway, it all has me contemplating the way we view absolutely inconsequential things like height/weight/facial features/shoe size/whatever as being directly attributable to a person's worth. I DO know there is a tendency for the 'normal' world to treat me as somewhat 'cutesy' (shudder) and I can't count the number of times guys want to pick me up - I mean that literally, as in off-the-floor - mind you, I've put on some pounds due to aging (and may I restate: Childbirth is not that wow of an experience to have to pay for it with menopause) (but I do carry on) so that doesn't happen so much anymore. Thank the gods and goddesses.....I HATE being picked up.
All this is totally silly when you boil it down - we all have some kind of 'something' that makes us feel inadequate. I guess it's all part of the journey trying to get to the place of total acceptance. It is what it is.
I'll tell you for sure that I will keep the short/fat/old for the amazing gift of being an Artist.
Everything else is just...stuff.
The painting: "Las Meninas" by Velazquez. Short people fascinated many of the old masters. They seem to pop up in many paintings. Especially Velazques. I found 3 other 'dwarf' paintings by him : "Prince Batasar with a Dwarf " , "A Dwarf Sitting on the Floor " , and "Court Dwarf Don Antonio el Ingles" . And that was only Google Search page 2. Other artists with a penchant for dwarfs are Bronzino, Ignacio and Jan Miense Molenaer. 
Just think, these 'short' guys have attained immortality through the medium of paint. More than a lot of 'regular sized' guys.
So there.

Einey, Meany, Miney, Moe....What 's The Look This Week - Do y'know?

Let's compare shall we?

Talk about 'cosmetic surgery'......of the paint kind.

If it only was this easy in real life. Although, around these parts I'm known for my constant change of style...Let's compare shall we?

....and that's not even close to all of them but I've spent about 3/4 of an hour fooling around with the fracking image uploader and am now late for an appointment......honest-make-your-eyeballs-spin-ly, I am constantly amazing myself with the astounding crap things I get wrapped up in.

*sigh*

Never mind and moving on.....The next post will be: The "TROPHIES" !

Yay.

....if the glue don't knock me out first.

...does explain a few things tho'....