little black journal

I’ve been busy and distracted and rather unmotivated lately and haven’t done nearly as much “creating” as I’d like to do. The only thing that has kept me from being completely unproductive has been the oil painting class that I’ve been taking at a small art school in Seattle for the past few weeks. This has been my first experience with oil paints, and learning to work with them has been both fun and frustrating. I love the richness of their color and texture – they blend beautifully and have a “creaminess” that I haven’t seen with acrylics. But they can take a loooong time to dry, which means you must have patience when layering paint or covering up mistakes. And clean-up time is a chore, since brushes must be cleaned with paint thinner or turpentine (acrylic and watercolor paint brushes can just be rinsed with water). Nonetheless, I look forward to continuing to play with this new-to-me medium. Below is one of my first stabs at a still life, painted during my third class. It still needs a little work, but it’s a start…

My little window-sill herb garden really took off in the past couple weeks, so I took advantage of the sunshine today to do a little transplanting. Shane filled our new, larger pots with soil, I gingerly placed our little sprouts in them, and we now have basil, parsley, dill, cilantro, thyme, and rosemary happily taking root out on our back porch. Another few weeks and things should be ready for the picking (I cheated a little and bought the rosemary and cilantro as plants, rather than starting them from seed, so they’re much farther along than the rest). It was nice to be outside – I spent a lot of time curled up on the couch this weekend, and I think a little fresh air did me some good. I’m obviously still mourning the loss of my grandma, but each day I find more peace with the fact that God has called her home. Much thanks to everyone who has reached out with their words of comfort.

Wow, talk about a book that took me out of my element. Drop City is the story of a hippie commune that gets pushed out of their ranch in California and so heads north to Alaska to escape “the man” and freely live off the land. The first few chapters of this book paint a somewhat glamorous picture of hippie-dom. Free love, an eternal buzz, the beauty of brother and sister-hood… But as things progress, and as the Alaskan days grow darker and colder, the drug-induced bliss is peeled back to reveal people’s tendencies toward jealousy, greed, and selfishness. And things get messy. Train-wreck messy. Staying-up-way-past-my-bedtime-to-finish-just-one-more-chapter-messy. This was an enthralling story. My only complaint is that all the mayhem was a little too quickly and neatly resolved in the final few pages – I wouldn’t have minded a few loose ends.

This was a chance to play around with some ideas I’ve been toying with for awhile… I like the idea of using printed fabric as a background, and I had some scraps left over from the curtains I made last year, so that was my start (though I ended up feeling like the damask I used in this was so bold and contrasty that I didn’t want to paint over it). The tree was also the product of some scraps I had laying around – I have a bag full of basswood pieces left over from my days as an architecture student, so this put some of it to use. I painted the woman pretty quickly (used a picture from one of my old bridal magazines as inspiration), but the background is where I really got stumped. The first time I painted it, it was too monochromatic. So I layered another shade of green over it. Then it was too varied. Then it was too light, too dark, too green, too yellow, etc. There are probably about 12 layers of green paint on this canvas. Last week I finally just threw my hands up, squeezed a bunch of green and yellow and red and white paint onto my palette, mixed it all together, and started slapping big daubs of acrylic onto the canvas with my palette knife. I’m not totally satisfied with the effect, but I don’t know where else to go with this one, so I’m setting it aside for now and moving on (more ideas brewing…).

This is one of those books that I could sit down with for several hours at a time, if only working and sleeping would just quit getting in the way of my reading time.  Eat Pray Love is written from such a personal point of view - funny sometimes, sad sometimes (I appreciate her transparency), and chock-full of interesting insights into what life can be like in Italy, India, and Indonesia. And, though I don’t want to get all “self-help” preachy about this book, it’s true that each section had a lesson to offer me:  The author’s time in Italy (“Eat”) reminded me that the pursuit of pleasure (to a certain extent, of course) is actually a very worthy endeavor. Savor and appreciate life’s pleasures – don’t guilt yourself over them. Her time in an ashram in India (“Pray”) wasn’t quite so fun to read about as Italy, but the hours upon and hours and days upon days that she spent in deep, focused meditation did beg this question from me: when is the last time I sat down in a quiet room, silenced my mind, and did nothing but revel in God’s presence? Another worthy endeavor… And finally, the chapters on Indonesia (“Love”) were about relationships, and Lord knows, I do love reading about/talking about/watching movies about relationships, so this section was right up my alley.  The strength of the friendships she formed in just a few short months was a reminder to me that I must let my guard down a little if I want to experience closeness.

Two thumbs up.

I finished these up just in time to slip them on as the cold, gray wind and rain overtook Seattle. A fun little knitting project – it’s good to have something to entertain myself while Shane watches the History Channel (what is it with men and the History Channel, anyway?).

details: size 9 needles, double-strand of regular worsted yarn, pattern posted here.

After spending the past couple weeks reading about architectural contracts in preparation for my first licensing exam, I was eager to take a break and spend a few days digging into some good old take-me-away fiction. I love the idea behind Girl with A Pearl Earring – the author created a fictional storyline based on the real paintings of Johannes Vermeer. She carefully studied the minute details of much of his work to inspire a story filled with love, jealousy, torment, and all that stuff that makes for a good girly read. I just wish it had been a little more believable. The dialogue sounded so contemporary for something set in the 15th century, and the main character (Griet – the “girl with a pearl earring”) often acted in a way that seemed pretty unlikely (her extreme concern for propriety didn’t quite align with her “promiscuity”). Would I recommend this book? Sure. Will you walk away from it feeling enlightened? Probably not, but it’s the perfect choice for a lazy afternoon when you just want to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and indulge in some easy reading.

It had been awhile since I’ve read any poetry, and I’ve had this book sitting on my bookshelf for years, looking very forlorn and neglected, so I decided to give The Colossus a try. And I’m glad I did. While you shouldn’t count on Sylvia Plath to raise your spirits when you’re feeling down (one of her poems is about a body that was buried with a live rat in the coffin and the damage that ensued…), at least she is fully able to transport you to a different time and place (usually a place where white-capped waves crash under gray skies and withered leaves slowly drop from trees). Dark and brooding, but beautiful.

I love these lines from “The Ghost’s Leavetaking”, speaking of that nebulous time when night turns to dawn:

“So these posed sheets, before they thin to nothing,

Speak in a sign language of a lost otherworld,

A world we lose merely by waking up.”

It’s nice to have a comfy new scarf to protect me from this biting Seattle cold we’re feeling these days…

details: garter stitch (16 across), size 15 needles, double strand (one skein solid blue wool blend, one skein variegated blue and brown boucle).

I’m about “scarfed out” now (the scarf rack in the corner of our bedroom is becoming overgrown and resembles a sasquatch when the light are out), so my next project will have to be something new. Maybe get a head start on a Christmas sweater for Shane? I thought he would look super-hot in this one:

Just for kicks, I’ve been playing around a little with some of the photos I took while I was in Europe – a mix of Photoshop manipulations and hand drawing over prints. It’s been awhile since I’ve scrolled through my thousands of photos; it was fun to review, reminisce, and revise:

berlin: grayed-out photo of Rotes Rathaus on a snowy January day, linework in ink.

prague: fantastically colorful street facade mirrored in Photoshop, pavement replaced with water, memorial statues imposed in front.

venice: favorite photos, lamppost cut-out, damask background outlined in ink.

munich: composition of snowscape, church, lampposts.

paris, cimetiere du montmartre: photo background with statue drawn in pencil.

Memories…