Brilliant Colors, Premium Quality

I'm going to assume that my regular readers have picked up on some negativity lately.  I'm thinking that it is possible it may continue.

I'm not much of a winter person.  I'm big into autumn, but when that last leaf falls, I utter a huge sigh and pretty much sigh continuously until spring.  Let's face it, I live in a pretty bleak place.  On the surface, it seems grand to live in a college town.  And its going to be be grand for the students and, hopefully, the professors.  Everyone else, not so much.

Especially if one is a middle-aged artist who is struggling against being sucked down the black hole of housewifery.   

The galleries here have dried up and blown away.  Sure, sure, if I tried really hard, I could have my work displayed at the hospital or the nursing home gallery.  No doubt opening nights at these places would resemble an opening at the coolest gallery in New York City or San Francisco (I can hear that techno beat now).  And now, to put the cherry on the top of my middle-aged bitching sundae, the Eddie Bauer store downtown went out of business.  Big deal, you say.  It is.  Where else is a middle-aged woman to buy clothes in this town?  I could easily find a belly baring halter top or pre-shredded jeans or a Penn State sweatshirt or a melon colored XXXXXL track suit (at suicide mall), but those Eddie Bauer jeans fit my middle-aged body just right.  And now, nothing.  A void.  I've just been sent a message by this town -- You Do Not Fit Here.  I'll do my best to find the other, mostly-invisible, non-university-affiliated, middle-aged women in this town and we'll complain together.

Or, I can just get out my 4 Positive Crayons and draw myself a happy little world.  As the package states: they are "NEW."  I could use me some new around here.  And some color.

Stay warm out there people.  And if you're already warm, enjoy it.

Still Unnamed

Still Unnamed, 6 x 6", ©2011 K. Hambric

Yet another piece that remains to be named.  I'm thinking that the title Still Unnamed might just be appropriate.

I have so many feelings that are yet to be named.

Perhaps this piece is not yet finished.  That black thought cloud looks so oppressive and blank.  Yet, that is the point.

And what is the story with these colors?  Why are all of my latest pieces the same colors?  Do I choose them because I already have them laying about on the worktable?  Have these colors found me?  Am I deliberately choosing them?  Am I just being lazy?

Am I asking too many questions?  I'm thinking, "no."

Its those little things . . .

that make me cry.

I don't like to run errands, but I've got to do them.  And when I do them, I like to do them as quickly as possible.  Don't make me wait.  Open another register.  Have that bag ready to put my purchases in.  Be ready to take my order, McDonald's employee (oh, wait, that's not an errand). 

On my way out of Target today (where else?),  an old lady got in my way.  Then she paused.  My blood pressure went way up.  Then, an old man got in my way.  Then he paused.  Then the old lady leaned on the old man and the old man leaned on the old lady and they slowly made their way to the parking lot.

Those tears in my eyes made it pretty darn hard to find my car.

But at least I got SOMETHING done day, however slowly.

I miss my mother.

I'm in the New Year, Finally

As yet unnamed, 4 x 4"

This is the first (and only, so far) piece started and completed since my mother's death.

I'm delighted that I have gotten this far.

The studio has been straightened up and is ready to go.  I'm coming out of my stupor and am preparing to think about being ready to go.

A few days after my mom died, I was running errands with the hubby in my old hometown of Roanoke, VA.  He said he was somewhat angry.  He felt that my mother had found a door and walked through it.  He didn't know where she went, only knew that she was no longer here.  And he hadn't finished talking to her.   I couldn't think of a better way to put it.

So that's what this piece means to me.  Mom gone.  I'm still here.  Still talking to her.

More to come from these feelings, no doubt.

Thank you all VERY MUCH for the thoughtful and comforting comments and emails about my mother.  These messages mean more to me than you know.

I hope everyone (including me) has a fantastic and creative 2011!

Upon finishing up breakfast this morning, I put the bottle of milk back in the refrigerator.  After the door had closed, I gazed, as usual upon all of the photographs (mostly of children) blanketing the appliance.  My usual thought is that I need to clean up the outside of the fridge.  Today's thought was, my God, any of these children could have gone to an event outside of a grocery store and been killed.

That is apparently the risk one takes when traveling outside of the home these days.  You don't have to travel to a war-torn country in Africa or flash your wallet and gold jewelry in high-crime urban areas in South America.  Nope.  All you have to do to be senselessly shot in the United States is be nine years old and in the right place at the wrong time.  Yesterday, it was at a Safeway grocery store in Arizona.  Other children have been shot and killed in their own schools.  Some die in gang fights.  Could even be in their own homes by a member of their own family.

It is unbearable for me to look at those refrigerator photographs and imagine any of those children killed by a gun.  Or by a gunman.  Yes, there are those out there that will defend guns in this country by saying guns don't kill people, people kill people.  How that could possibly be a valid defense of gun ownership I can't even begin to understand.  I shouldn't even be able to visualize any of those children being shot.  There should be no precedent for that.  Yet, there is.  Why don't we all take a break here and Google the words school shooting and see what comes up?

Each and every time a sickening event like this occurs, the only comfort that comes to mind is that maybe this time, this time, something will be done about gun ownership in this country.  Yet, this time, like every other time in the past, gun ownership will be defended successfully.  The NRA gets to pound its chest again and declare victory over the limp-wristed liberals who want to take our constitutional rights away.

What sickens me most, is that Sarah Palin, Rush Limbaugh, John McCain, etc., etc., etc., will make proclamation after proclamation that, while indeed the shooting was a terrible and senseless act, we must do everything we can to retain our freedoms as American citizens.  We must do everything we can to retain our 2nd Amendment rights.  That everything includes giving up the safety of our children to madmen and politicians with guns. 

Now that I think about it, the shooting of a nine-year-old girl (and five other people) is not a senseless act.  It makes a great deal of sense.  Man with gun, pulls trigger several times, people die. 

I don't know about you, but I would gladly give up my right to own a gun (that could shoot 30 people with one clip), in order to prevent the future shooting of just one child, not to mention the hundreds or thousands that will be shot by senseless madmen, homeowners protecting their property, parents cleaning their guns, or other children.

I can't believe there are people in this country that do not believe that would be a worthwhile trade off.  

What Are You Doing?

Hi Moppie, 

I have to say that I don't know how to go about talking to you this way.  I'm SO not used to having to do all of the talking.

8:30 in the morning has been a tough time for me these last two weeks.  I used to hate a ringing phone (not your usual morning call, of course), but now I hate a quiet one.  I've starting calling Dad every morning at 8:30.  I start the conversation the way you used to, by saying, "What are you doing?" 

Lily finally went back to school today and Steve finally went back to work.  This is the first time I've been alone in almost two weeks.  Its harder than I thought it would be.

No, you did not ruin Christmas.  I know you felt bad about that.  But the rest of us were all able to stay together longer without those pesky jobs getting in the way.  I feel so much closer to Dad and Karen now.

I really have nothing planned for today.  I don't think I'll get up into the studio, unless its to clean up a little bit.  I'm sure I'll do some laundry and other chores.  I'd like to take down the Christmas decorations, but Steve had a fit when I mentioned it.  And I'm not sure I'm ready.  So many of the things I put up were talismans for your getting well again -- your angel tree-topper, those "handmade" red, gold and green glitter balls, the glass icicle ornaments that dad managed to throw out with the tree every year (and I managed to recover every year).  I think putting them away now would be unbearable.  I think we'll just be known in the neighborhood as those freaks that keep up their Christmas ornaments until spring.

Lily was so anxious to get back to school.  She has a pretty low tolerance for being alone.  Steve was not so anxious to get back to work.  But you know how he likes to keep busy, so he's better off there than at home puttering around.  Its probably safer for him there.  I was getting a little (very) tired of the puttering around.  He did accomplish a great deal on his break.  I sure didn't.

I know what you would tell me to do.  "Don't work too hard today.  Sit down and get yourself a cup of coffee.  You need to take a little time to relax."  I think I'll take your advice.  I didn't take your advice too often in the past.

Bye.

What Are You Doing is likely to become a regular feature, as the mundane bits and pieces of my life build up and need to be released.  Sorry if it's too dull.  That's what happens when you talk to someone every day of your life.  It can't all be exciting.  And "bye" was pronounced "bah" by my mother.  One of those thousands of oddities that I will miss.