Showing posts with label bitching and moaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bitching and moaning. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

I can breathe now

Aaaaaahhh... it's finally less than 88 degrees Fahrenheigt. (Don't mock me. I've gotten used to not having a normal summer.) Still wiped out and tore up, but here are some pix to hold you until I have more coherent thoughts.

The Boy and me at the strawberry farm two weekends ago-- when it was maybe 71 degrees:
Still thanking my local farmworkers. I do not want to crouch and kneel like that for a living.

No pictures from this weekend. Too hot to focus, plus The Boy was showing us the range of his three-year-old orneriness. I spent most of my time trying to control my temper when I wasn't wiping away under-boob sweat.

Speaking of being unreasonably hot, more news from PreggerLand: we found out we're going to have a boy! He "waved" to us during the ultrasound (his hand was next to his head, and he flexed his fingers a couple of times).

And because I run a side specialty in weirdness: see this cuddly little Cerberus I found at the book store:More soon.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Scrubs: RIP

But I don't want it to go!

Last night, the series finale of Scrubs aired. It wasn't as absorbing as it usually is -- I think they did a better job pulling off the episode where they did an actual musical -- but maybe that's due to the writers' strike. I'm guessing the staff really didn't have the time to put in the effort they might've, had the season been a normal length.

I don't know which I'll miss more: the actual jokes, or the depictions of JD's relationship with Turk, and Turk's relationship with Carla. One element of JD and Turk's friendship reminds me of my own friends and me: race is part of our relationship but it's just part of who we are, and if we have dumb questions about the other, we can ask because we've put in the time to get to know each other as people.

Carla and Turk's relationship, on the other hand, I love because she's bossy and he's just stupid -- but they work together, in spite of their egos. Plus, Turk looks (and acts) a lot like my brother.

I hope the actors all find work at least as good as Scrubs. And I really want to see Angela Nissel (wrote about her here) one of the writers who became a supervising producer, get another show!

I miss them already. Yes, I know they're in syndication. But I miss them.

I blame this on Dr. Kelso.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

First day of class-"Family Paintover"

I was so looking forward to my first class, "Family Paintover" with Lisa Bebi. I thought this class would give me some creative ways to use my relatives' pix in my artwork. Longtime readers of le blog (um, anyone who's visited since autumn of last year) know I've been getting into the genealogy thing. I've nagged my aunt and cousin for pictures and info. So I figured, even if I don't finish the class project, the instructor will have given me really cool techniques to use.

Well, not really.

The first half of the class went pretty well. The instructor was kinda nervous, since this is her first year teaching at Artfest. So I cut her some slack for going a little overlong on telling us about her published art and gallery shows. She also mentioned that she was taking Vicodin for a knee problem. But Julie was in my class too, so I figured we'd have lots to talk about once we were done.

First up was painting the background, using a bright color under a darker color. Then we used stamps, doodles and whatever else we wanted to partly reveal the first layer of color. (My throat is a little sensitive, so I wore a paint mask while I worked.)
Next, we sealed photocopies of the relative(s) in question with matte medium (so that the colors to be added don't sink into the photocopy paper). I used one of my mom in 1965, one of her father and uncles from the early 20th century, and one of her as a baby.
Finally, we carefully glued them down to the background. Julie made this useful suggestion: Don't put the whole image down at once. Glue a small area down, smooth out bubbles, then glue some more down and smooth out bubbles until you're done.

We took a break for lunch... and in the second half of class, things started to go downhill.

The instructor began by trying to do a quick overview of what was next. First, she began explaining one way to bring color to the people images, and how to marry that paint job with the background paint. Fine, but then she said, "wait, let me show you the 15-minute version I did for such-and-such publication." Okay... we'll go with that.

And as she demonstrated, the instructor veered back to the more complicated version. Then she tacked back to the simpler technique! Back and forth, back and forth. Maybe it was the Vicodin she mentioned earlier that messed with her focus. I don't know.

Finally, the instructor told us to bring up our paintings if we needed help. Which is fine -- but it wasn't fine that she ended up finishing most of the paintings herself, instead of giving suggestions. It was as if her brain had clicked over from teaching-mode to studio-mode.

So I got frustrated... I tried to fight it, but my brain tends to shut down to anything else when that happens. I ended up having to leave the classroom with one of my seatmates, DD Wigley, who talked me down outside.

Julie, on the other hand, has done some similar paintover techniques, and she was working busily. So I said to myself, fuck it. I'm just going to do what Julie's doing. Here's the first result.
I painted over my mom's skin and the other images with a thin wash of Yellow Oxide by Golden, everything except her eyes, hair and dress. (Painting over the black would only make it pop out more, and the goal was to have that recede a bit.) Then I used a heavier coat of the Quinacridone Crimson of the background color, and finally some Nickel Azo Gold to tone things down a little. While it was wet, it kinda looked a mess, but when it dried the color around my mom's face looked softer, like an encaustic (beeswax) piece. That looked roughly like the "simpler" technique the instructor was trying to get across.
The second one turned out better. Here, I decided to go whole hog and paint my mom's skin, hair and clothing with more visible layers of paint. I don't have much experience with acrylics yet, but I tried to mix a color that was close to her skin tone. (The other students were using a pre-mixed "flesh" color. You know, because all human flesh is pink. Or darker pink.)

Then I painted her dress her favorite color, yellow, but it was too close to her skin tone, so I painted it blue, and did the socks in a lighter blue. Her hair is a mix of black, Nickel Azo Gold, and brown. This one looks a bit like the instructor's more "complicated" technique.
The brothers were difficult, because like many African Americans, their skin hues vary wildly within the family. I still need to figure out how to reduce the blackface effect I created on the brothers in the back row, but the seated brothers, who were paler, turned out a bit better.

I wasn't the only one unhappy with the class: that night, I talked to three or four other students who were pretty ticked off as well. And you can see the difference between the student work...and the instructor finished work.
Interestingly enough, my new friend Morag Campbell took the same class in Paris -- and said it turned out fabulously. But not here, man. Let's face it: If you have to do the work for the student, you haven't really taught them how to replicate the technique.

A couple of days later, I ran into the instructor, who had heard that I was very unhappy with the class. She told me she thought my work turned out very well, and that she'd be happy to help me fix anything I didn't like about it.

But I was just so mentally fried by that time that anything she said would've gone in one ear and out the other. I did tell her what confused me. I also pointed out that I would hardly have been insulted had she taught us the simplest version only. She apologized, and said if I email her later she'd still love to help. But you know... I'm done. Maybe I'll noodle with the pieces later, but for now, I'm done.

As a student, I need the instructor to teach me one technique, with no distractions, until I've gotten a chance to do the basics. Add on the options later. It reminds me of what I yell at other drivers when they're weaving on the road in front of me: Pick a lane and stick with it.

Tomorrow's post : fun at the famed Artfest bonfire that night.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

"Spring: winter, only not as cold." -- Me, 1998

29 Mar 2008, about 6:45pm PST:
Screw the cute little robins that have been hopping around our yard. It ain't spring yet. It ain't spring yet.
See, this is why I don't get excited about decent weather this time of year. It disappears and reappears just to mess with your head, until mid-June. But no -- still nothing to go wild about, because our week and a half of summer doesn't show up until oh, late July. Rain on Independence Day is the norm, not the exception -- and yet we still have fireworks shows.

No, I don't know why we bother.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Ugh! Get on with it already!

I still like the assemblage I'm making for Artfest, but I have taken waaaay too long to get it done. I had the concept way back in late November or early December, because I was drawing the main sketch while I worked the holiday craft fair.This is one of two figures I'm putting on a base, a mother and baby. I started out making the baby's t-shirt a week or two ago. Also added text on the back.
Then last night I made the shirt into a onesie. I finally attached the face and hair last night as well, partly to get myself into the home stretch of assembly. I have this thing about not attaching the face until the end... I mean, I burned masking tape on both the "baby" and the "mother", and I've drilled holes into the mother. I can't do that with a face looking at me! Wouldn't you want to be completely unaware while someone was (re)creating your body?

Yes, the figure has two faces. Yes, that's on purpose. I placed a page pebble (you know, those domed clear thingies) over the first image, then adhered a transfer of the second image.
You know how these poseable figures have no ass? I rolled up some paper and made the baby a tushie (that's Yiddish for "backside" for all you goyim out there.) Did the same for the mom, but added a lot more paper. [Insert "Baby Got Back" joke here.]

After I finally finish this project, I have something in mind for The Husband for our anniversary. (I give him art every year. This was actually his idea.) And I want to finish up the LK Ludwig class project from Art & Soul, so I can show it to her after class at Artfest. Oh, and did I mention I need to finish Photoshopping a business card into existence?

I'd like to do more blog candy stuff, but I gotta get this done! Well, it's been said that if you want to get something done, give it to a busy person...

Thursday, February 14, 2008

My heart goes out to them

Hadn't planned to paint a plastic heart on Valentine's Day, but it's worked out that way. It'll be part of my Artfest piece. Doesn't it look like a real one in miniature? Either that, or a piece of ABC gum.

I believe that God made chocolate because he loves us and wants us to be happy. (Apologies to Ben Franklin for that one.) But news this Valentine's Day reminds me to be picky about where a chocolatier buys their cacao beans. Jesus, I've been to Ghana. Some of the most beautiful children I've ever seen in my life live there. But endangering the health and lives of children is an acceptable cost of doing business for some corporations.

Maybe George Bush doesn't care about black people, but FEMA does. Today I also found out that FEMA loves black people in Louisiana. After the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention explained that it's bad for humans to live and breathe in formaldehyde-leaching trailers, that is.

Surprise, surprise: I'm not much of a Valentine's Day person. I do buy cards, and I do like receiving flowers. But I'm no longer the type to make valentines for everyone, and I'm more interested in what those little candy hearts say than how many I can fit into my mouth. (Approximately 15.)

Plus, I used to work in TV news. That either cures you of velvet and lace, or it sends you into the deep end of the frilly stuff.

The Husband says he's not a Valentine's Day person either. But he bought me several sci-fi books (they're also for himself; we have very similar tastes) this week, including a sequel that I'm dying to read. And last night, he bought me a pair of avocados [mmm... drool slobber] and a small box of Dilettante chocolates -- the kind he brought me on our first date. He likes how appreciative I am of the just-because gifts he brings home.

It's probably sticking my head in the sand, but these little expressions of love in my life make me feel like there must be enough love in the rest of the world to change the big stuff. The chocolate-from-Third-World-children and formaldehyde-poisoning stuff.

The best Valentine's gift, hands down: The Husband's belief in me as an artist. He even made me an Executive Crafting Kit, which you'll see if you're going to Artfest. It's a briefcase he outfitted with wooden dividers for my supplies, and strips of Velcro and faux red velvet ribbon hold the contents in their respective compartments. Whenever I go arting somewhere, I get ooh's and aaah's and someone invariably says, "Ooh, he's a keeper!"

Yes, he is.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

More spelling mysteries resolved

This one's in honor of my TX darlin' Jan, who got a hoot out of my earlier spelling-related bitchiness. Here's hoping it speeds her recovery from that nightmarish illness.

STATIONERY: Letter-writing paper... you know, the stuff you use when you're out of cell phone range and you have no access to email. STATIONARY: Standing still, as in "a stationary object."

And a few bonus corrections:

CEMETERY: Not "cemetary" or "cematery" or "cematery." There is no "a" in that word.

MISCHIEVOUS: Not "mischievious." Two, not three "i's." And the emphasis is on the first syllable (MISS-cheh-vuss), not the second, in the same way you would say "mischief" (MISS-chiff).

That is all. Go forth and continue to vocalize properly.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Spelling lesson

This is a mini-spelling rant about homophones, words that sound the same but are spelled differently and mean separate things. If you want to avoid impending bitchiness, bail out now.

LIGHTNING: the zig-zaggy stuff in the sky that often accompanies thunderstorms, as in "greased lightning." LIGHTENING: when you make something lighter in color or weight, as in "lightening the load."

PEEK: a stolen glance. Yes, it rhymes with "sneak," but there is no "a" in this word. PEAK: the top of a mountain, or the pointy top of something. As in "snow-capped peaks" or "egg whites whipped into soft peaks."

BEAR: to carry something, as in "to bear weight" or "to bear a grudge against someone"; or to give birth to, as in "child-bearing years." And, of course, the animal (grizzly or teddy). BARE: to expose, as in "bare naked" or "bare your soul."

And no, you can't use the first word to mean the second just because you think the rest of the world is wrong and you're right, or because you want other people to work to figure out what you mean. (That means you, Ivan.) Messing with the language that way means you don't want to communicate what's on your mind, and if that's the case, then just don't say anything.

Now go out there and use your vocabulary properly. End of rant.