Full Of It

:: My new art portfolio gifted from a dear friend
:: Sylvia Plath knows what she's talking about

Life has been full lately.  Like, really full.  Like, bursting at the seams full.  Overflowing kind of full. You get the drift.

My husband likes to remind me that it's always full.  And, I guess when I stop to think about it, well, it is.  But the busyness of the beginning of the school year just about did me in and I'd like to pop into this little blog space of mine and jot down a few words to punctuate the end of…well, the beginning.

To commemorate the lighter, more care-free after-school calendar, I'd like to write a post dedicated to the creative & beautiful tidbits of daily life that have permeated my world lately and kept me sane for the past six, socially stretched thin weeks we've just had.  Here's what's been going on in my world.

I discovered the most talented Australian artist, Nicole Law, on Instagram (IG handle :: nicolelaw.au).  Her work is gorgeous and it inspired many hours of line drawing in my daily art journal (above left).

I'm in the final throes of library tote bag research and pulled the trigger on a blank canvas bag & sent it off to the screen printer for a small first-run production with my original artwork.  Hoping to have these back by the end of the month and in my new etsy shop by November 1st.  Crossing my fingers it all works out.

My new domain name has been registered and I figured out how to redirect my old blog address to the new one.  This was a major feat for this technologically challenged gal, but I did it without any help, thank you very much.

My library addiction was fed a lot this month and I'm really enjoying revisiting Jenny Rosentrach's Dinner :: A Love Story & her new follow-up to that book Dinner: The Playbook.  Really great, easy to execute family dinner plans for weeknight meals.

I'm also slowly digesting artist Lisa Congon's new book Art, Inc.  Is there nothing this woman can't do?  She is such a huge inspiration to me.  She's self-taught and didn't pick up a paint brush until she was 34.  She is prolific and one-of-a-kind and she inspires me daily with her words, images and blog.

I was gifted the out-of-print book of poetry by Gary Young entitled Pleasure.  I've checked this out from the library a handful of times and that's always my indicator that I must add it to my small home library.  The author is also a printmaker and lives in Northern California.  Since it was out of print, my dear book-loving friend contacted Heyday Books (the publisher) and they sent her a copy - that she, in turn, gifted to me.  I absolutely recommend this book and appreciate his prose-style poems on family life, nature and the relationship between those two worlds.  Here's one of my favorites:

The swallows hide their children in the dark, in frail mud cups beneath the roof.  They fly from the house and come back.  They make loops in the treacherous air, then return.  They live here, too, and they're not afraid.

His poems are without titles.  Here's another that is seemingly simple, but conjures up lovely sensory inducing images:

We bought halibut fresh from the boat, and poached the firm white flesh with onions, fennel root and wine.  We mashed potatoes, nibbled jicama, and Killarney laughed because the meal was white.  She's written a book about her mother, and that night I decided to illustrate the book with clouds.

And one more, because I can't say enough about this little book:

It's a joy to be subtracted from the world.  Holding my son's naked body against my own, all I feel is what he is.  I cannot feel my own skin.  I cannot feel myself touching him, but I can recognize his hair, the heft of his body, his warmth, his weight.  I cannot measure my own being, my subtle boundaries, but I know my son's arms, the drape of his legs, smooth and warm in a shape I can measure.  I have become such a fine thing, the resting-place for a body I can know.

And while I don't read poetry every day, I do have a small stack of my favorite poetry books that rest on a side table in the living room.  When I have a few minutes in between tasks, I like to sit down and open one of them and see what I find.  Usually, it's just the right thing to make me ponder this life I'm living.  This short respite seems to bring my day into sharp focus.  I love how a few words can do this.

I look forward to the delivery of the Sunday New York Times every single weekend.  I try to leave the day WIDE open so that I can sip my coffee, have a leisurely breakfast and read the paper from cover-to-cover for the entire day.  It is the most decadent and inspiring chunk of time during my week.  The graphics are to die for and are the well-written articles are a wealth of inspiration.  It has something for everyone in our family and I'm turning into one of those ladies that clips articles and pulls out sections for my two fellas + friends.  Yes, I'm that lady now.  Consider yourself warned.

We've had a bit of a heatwave over the last 10 days, but the fog has returned in the early mornings and late afternoons.  The fog created a need in me to mix up grey watercolors and try to paint this scene (above, right) from Doran Beach in my art journal.  I have a long way to go in this department.  As always, I am a work in progress when it comes to watercolors.

October's Babylon Book Club selection was All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr.  What a beautifully written book.  Themes of friendship, life, death, the beauty of the natural world, hope, and bravery run throughout its pages.  A must read.

A gangly flock of turkeys has been traipsing across our property for over a month now; eating fallen apples, dropping feathers, clucking & calling with all their might early in the morning and as the sun dips down to say goodnight in our back pasture.  They are both annoying & adorable all at the same time.  They're leaving feathers as some sort of peace offering.  I happily accept these feathers.

I've been taking a creative process in watercolor workshop with the super talented artist, Jean Warren.  She's been working in watercolor for over 30 years and is such a talent.  She makes it all look so easy (when it's absolutely not!).

I'm the newbie in class and was quite intimidated to paint next to my fellow, more accomplished  students.  I'm realizing through these classes that I have a hard time being a student.  I really don't like to be told what to do.  Isn't that funny?  That I pay for classes and attend them - and then quietly push back and try to find a way to do it my way?  Not funny ha-ha, but funny-what-the-hell-are-you-doing-Tammi kind of funny.

I outed myself this week with my classmates and finally let go of my way (which, incidentally is no real way at all).  I began to listen and apply what was being taught to the blank piece of paper in front of me.  It was a small revelation, but really made me look at how I resist change, new ideas coming from others & concrete advice.  I guess I like to fumble my way through things until I figure them out, but as I'm getting older I'm also realizing that if I'd just listen up and give it a try, I might save myself some valuable time.  And, let's face it, time is meaning so much more to me now that I'm getting older.  I don't want to keep fighting unnecessary battles.  It's just silly.  I'm finally realizing that and ready to move on and accept the help of others.

We celebrated our wedding anniversary this week and I gifted a piece of original art to Steve to mark this occasion.  Again, inspired by this artist, I utilized my drawer full of hand-carved stamps and created a wonky little homage to our 13 years by printing 13 wonky circles on kraft-colored card stock with red screen printer's ink.  It took several takes to get it just right, but I absolutely love it.

September was filled with milestone birthday celebrations, first school dances, dinner parties, soccer & flag football games.  It was also filled with big batches of waffles, school lunches, Manhattans, lots of sparkling wine & homemade ice cream sandwiches.

Steve & Grady make the best waffles I've ever had.  At my request, they kindly double the batch and store the cooled waffles in clean, used plastic bread bags, stacking the waffles one on top of the other - so that they lay flat.  During the school week, Grady just pops two in the toaster to reheat and voila! - breakfast of champions.  I've never made a waffle in the 15 years we've been together and I quite like that fact.  We received our first waffle iron as a wedding present and it died late last year from old age and constant use.  Our new All-Clad belgian waffle maker should last us until Grady is out of college.   I love that this is totally Steve's domain and that he is training his son to take over this culinary task for our family.

I thoroughly enjoy listening to the father & son morning banter and witnessing the two of them  cooking together.  Plus, it really helps out with our weekday morning routine by having these in my back-pocket (I mean, freezer).  Recipe can be found here.

Of Bristle and Bone, oil on panel, 60 x 48 inches, 2014

We had the pleasure of attending our dear friend's art show Between Head and Hand at the Dolby Chadwick Gallery in San Francisco last month and it was amazing.  Kai Samuels-Davis is such a talent and we were so proud to take in the show and see our friend's body of recent work up on the walls in this beautiful space.  Click through to his website to see more of his work.

Books & periodicals litter almost every available flat surface in our home right now.  When I'm not busy trying to cram in a little more reading, I'm playing catch up with my downloaded podcasts.  I'm absolutely transfixed by Ira Glass's new podcast Serial.  Have you listened to it yet?  Go download it.  Seriously, right now.  It's my new favorite thing.

Happy October, everyone.