Taking Chances

Yesterday, I scared the bejeezers out of myself. Yes, myself. I have no one to blame but me, which is nice in a way. The fewer involved in a messy situation, in my opinion, the better.

It really wasn't a big deal. I just took a chance on something I've had cooking in the back of my mind for a while now. And while the actual action itself wasn't that significant (it wasn't the cure for cancer), it did leave me feeling vulnerable...and tested my courage to act on something in which I had little control over its success or failure. I just had to put it out there and wait to see what happened. In the end, all turned out well. But I'm still quivering a bit on the inside from the whole experience.

The wonderful thing was I reached out to two beautiful, artist friends, Christine and Ann, who I knew would not only encourage me in my action, but also catch me should I fall. They would have been there had I picked up the phone and said, "It failed. I suck. I want to crawl under a rock." They wouldn't have patronized me or babied me. They would have empathized and then told me to get back on my horse. And should I have gotten pouty and reminded them that I was vegan and didn't ride horses, they would have stomped their feet, pointed a stern finger at me, and firmly told me to BUCK UP and move on...which is what I totally would have needed to hear.

But above all, I knew their opinion of me did not change simply because I reached out for their support and reassurance.

These friends aren't my "Minnesota friends." They are my "California friends." To me, there is a difference. My Minnesota friends have been with me FOREVER. They've seen the good, the bad, the ugly, the super drunk and obnoxious. They've seen me poor and young and inexperienced and stumbling along life's little path. They've seen me get married, get my first job, buy my first house, and change my hair style a couple of times. They know my history and I can't fool them--even when I'm fooling myself.

My California friends get me as I am today...in pretty decent shape. I have a few nicks and dents but for the most part, they see the confident, enthusiastic, stable person that I've worked to become the past 41 years. Why would I go and mess with that picture of me by willingly admitting that I was afraid of doing something that wasn't a big deal?

I'm not a poser. I never try to pass myself off as someone I'm not. However, I have in the past put on a brave face in order to save face. Or I've passively accepted someone's version of me because it was easier than dealing with my version of me. And there has been a time or two where I've avoided doing something because there was a chance it would reshape an image of me I wanted to keep in tact.

What I've learned from all this is that it's exhausting. It's exhausting to keep fighting back fears that want to pop up. It's exhausting to carry the weight of confidence all the time. It's exhausting to hold up expectations and constantly push aside emotions. When I became proactively unemployed nearly six years ago, I knew I was stepping into the unknown and into a world of chaos that would leave me feeling like an 18-year-old college kid trying to pick out a major. What the heck was I going to do with the rest of my life now that I walked away from the one I just spent 36 years building?

But I had no idea how much, in this new journey, I would need friends whom I could trust with my fears, my wild ideas, and my frail ego. I figured after four decades of working on myself, I could do anything and do it all alone. Until yesterday. Somehow, by expressing my concerns aloud to Christine and Ann, I released them--or at the very least, tamed them. And I got to pull strength from a community of creative people who are on a similar path as mine. They didn't offer solutions. They knew better. All I needed was a knowing nod and a gentle push. They held my confidence for me when I was just too tired to do it myself.

I've told lots of people I feel 2012 is going to be a special year. That has mostly to do with the fact that I've committed myself to pursuing my marbling. For real. As an artist. The discipline, the history, the goal to "bring marbling to the masses." I am putting my heart and soul into it like nothing I've ever done before. This will not be the last time I call upon my "California friends," or for that matter, my "Minnesota friends," who play a different, but still vital role in my growth as a person. Even at this stage in my life, I really do feel like I am starting new, starting fresh. I feel I have a lot to learn about me.

41 for 41: Traveling Story Book

When I was little, my Aunt Suzie lived in a small town in Northern Minnesota four hours by car from my family home. At least a couple of times a year, my parents would gather my brother and me up in the Chevy Impala station wagon, pack a lunch that included bologna sandwiches and potato chips, and drive up there. I loved it. I loved everything about those trips because they involved being with my aunt, the crazy, writer-hippie-food obsessed-creative type-naturalist-college professor-nonconformist liberal. She was everything my parents weren't...and everything I longed to be. Plus, my brother and I got to sleep on mattresses on the floor up in her attic. We thought that was very, very cool.

Aunt Suzie let us do just about anything we wanted to do, including eat cake for breakfast. Right out of the pan. And we didn't have to brush our teeth before we went to bed. We made our own story books using her mimeograph machine, rode around on three-wheel ATVs in the back woods BY OURSELVES (we weren't even 10!), played tennis on the court they carved out on a patch of yard, took sips from my Uncle Bill's beer, walked their land and picked flowers then went back and pressed them. She let us look through ALL the Shel Silverstein books she had on her bookshelves. All of them! One time she taught me how to use a sewing machine, making me a sundress from fabric with cherries on it that I got to pick out at the fabric store. When we left her home, we always smelled like campfire because the only heat their home produced came from a huge, wood-burning stove. It was fantastic.

My role as an aunt to my 9-year-old niece and six-year-old nephew is more complicated. While I also live four hours away, it's by plane and some 2,000 miles apart. When my niece was 3, she flew out and stayed with me for four days while her mom was on a business trip. On that visit, my niece and I went to the Pasadena Children's Museum, built sand castles on Zuma Beach, went to the South Pasadena library to play children's learning games on the computer, and rode the rides on the Santa Monica Pier. What she remembers most to this day, though, more than six years later, are four things: 1) Green Day where we wore all green and ate only green things like olives, pears, apples, and veggie corn dogs (the package was green!); 2) our floating lunch where I put our peanut butter sandwiches, banana slices, and pretzels in Tupperware containers and floated them on the water in the kiddie pool we set out on our driveway; 3) going on owl searches at night (way past her bedtime, of course); and 4) picking a lemon from our tree and then tasting a fresh slice (I vividly recall her puckered face and though she didn't ask for any more, she never said it tasted awful). All these moments have one thing in common: it was just her and me. Together.

A while back, I was thinking about ways my niece and I can continue those special just-you-and-me moments despite the distance and that's when I came up with the Traveling Story Book idea. My niece is a good writer, enjoys it, and is creative as all get out. I want to fuel that fire as much as I can. So I got a simple notebook and a stack of stickers. Using the stickers as prompts, we write our stories. I write a story and send the book to her. She writes a story and sends it back to me. And then we do it again.

At least, that's what was supposed to happen. Until I dropped the ball last year.

But last week, I got back on the band wagon (thanks to my 41 for 41 list)! I pulled out our Traveling Story Book, picked out my stickers, wrote my story, and sent it off. She has no idea it's coming and I wish I could be there to see her face when the postal carrier drops it off at her house. Of course, she's a year older now (and may I remind you she's a GIRL) and has definite opinions about what is and isn't COOL. Who knows...maybe this isn't up her alley anymore. But if it isn't, you can bet I'll go back to the drawing board to figure out what IS and start doing that with her instead. After all, one of the highlights of 2011 for me was my visit to Northern Minnesota to see my Aunt Suzie. And I'm 41. (And yes, we got to eat cake for breakfast. Right from the pan!)

Now I need to figure out a "just-you-and-me thing" to do with my nephew.

41 for 41: Tidepool Leo Carrillo State Park

I grew up in Minnesota where there were 10,000 lakes and all of them, obviously, freshwater. Not a tidepool to be found. And other than Lake Superior, which was two hours north of us and only visited a couple of times a year, none of the lakes were affected by the gravitational pull of the moon. In other words, no tides. Minnesota lakes do not easily give away what lies beneath their surface.

My first tidepooling experience was in Washington state in the Olympic Peninsula. It was the highlight of a week-long adventure I was on with my husband and his sister and father exploring the area. I was in my mid-20s and a novice at traveling. Everything was astounding to me. Put in that context, it's safe to say that that tidepool experience was off the charts on a spiritual scale and thus the foundation of my love for them.

What draws me to tidepools are may things. First, there's the thrill of trying to nail down the perfect time to hit up a spot. Scanning tide schedules for each bend and hook and half-mile of coastline, looking for the lowest minus tide during daylight hours at an accessible spot...not exactly a casual undertaking. The reward, however, when you step out onto a freshly exposed rocky shore an hour before low tide (the best time for tidepooling) and take in the glistening new landscape, the ocean's version of Disneyland, is exhilarating. Knowing that in 60 minutes the ocean will begin reclaiming, once again, what is rightfully hers, makes it feel like game--a treasure hunt with a time limit like no other. (But one would be a fool to think he or she has a chance at beating nature in any kind of game, especially one that involves ocean.)

And then there's the joy of discovery. Tidepools are, in my opinion, one of the most diverse landscapes you can find in the smallest amount of area. From colors to species to textures to shapes, in one square foot there will be more for your mind and senses to behold than anywhere else on earth: limpets, chitons, sand castle worms, snails, hermit crabs, sea weeds, star fish, tunicates, algae, anemones, sponges, sculpin and prickelbacks...these are just a few of the things I identified on one quick visit to Leo Carrillo State Park last week.

I put "tidepooling" on my 41 for 41 list this year because it is such a jolt to the soul when I go. From the time I learned about "primordial soup" in grade school, I have been fascinated with what lies in the sea. And when I am precariously crouching on a wet rock trying to get as close as I can to sea life clinging to its side and underneath, as a fine salt spray blankets me, as I squeeze out all sounds but that of the whispering sponges and clacking barnacles, as my eyes adjust to the micromovents of a miniature world, it truly feels a bit like coming home.

[slideshow]

New Month, New Header!

It's the beginning of the month and that means a new header! (Note to self: you have to come up with a better intro for these posts...you say the same thing every time.)

This header was created with a pattern I was practicing in the studio a few weeks ago--the New Jersey Ripple. The full sheet looks like this:

It's probably hard to tell in a photograph, but the New Jersey Ripple (and its parent pattern, the Spanish Moire) has an illusional affect on the viewer. It looks as if the paper, indeed, has ripples--like when a pebble is dropped into a pond of water.

I've practiced the Spanish Moire many, many times and can't get it down but I had no problems nailing the New Jersey Ripple. This kind of stuff drives me up the wall about marbling (in a good way!) and speaks to the subtly of the craft. The two patterns aren't that different from one another. With the Spanish Moire, you gently rock the paper corner to corner as you lay it down on the bath. That's it. You do the same rocking motion with the New Jersey Ripple, but with the Ripple, the paper is folded horizontally and vertically a few times before laying it down. I'm not sure how that affects the making of the pattern but obviously it does.

Given the history of the Spanish Moire, you'd think this would be my specialty. The story goes that after a night of heavy drinking, a marbler came into work and started laying down paper but because of his hangover, his hands were shaking. Thus, the Spanish Moire was born. Like I said, this should be up my alley, but alas, it alludes me. I'm tempted to leave the Moire behind and just stick with the Ripple but I don't like the folds that are left behind on the paper. You can get them out by ironing the paper or giving it a couple extra squirts of water and putting it under boards for a few days but that's such a pain. So I guess I'll continue my quest to produce at least ONE good Spanish Moire sometime in my life...even if it means many nights of heavy drinking! It's a sacrifice I'll have to make for the greater good of the profession.

Cheers!

I Love it When this Happens!

I woke up at 4 a.m. this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. My mind started racing around and over and through and back around my to-do list. But here's the thing; it wasn't stress that was keeping me up. It was excitement. I couldn't wait to get up and start working on my t0-do list...how often does that happen?!

For many people, rarely. A to-do list just means work. Actually, it means MORE work because we often have things that need to get done that aren't on the list because they are in our heads and we are on autopilot when it comes to completing them (i.e. doing the dishes, making dinner, paying bills). To-do lists can also be scary to some, as is the case with a friend of mine. There are things on her list I know she is freaking out about and avoiding because it makes her face some truths she's not ready (or wanting) to deal with yet.

But my to-do list this week is a good one for me. Yes, it's filled with the mundane (drop off package at the post office, clean out closet) and it's filled with what I like to call "high maintenance" action items--things that require a lot of time and energy from me with no immediate, tangible results (though I'll see results down the road) like brainstorm logo ideas for my marbling identity, finish writing the food essay, and plant winter greens in the garden. But all the things on my to-do list lead to one gigantic benefit: It gets me to where I want to go and whom I want to be.

And what does that look like?

I want to be organized. I want to be a serious marbler. I want my writing to be published. I want to create. I want time to be still. I want to learn new things. I want to be a good friend and the best wife. I want fresh produce grown veganically. I want to travel.

When you know what you want from life, the to-do list doesn't seem like a hindrance. It feels like a tool. Or a road map. Or, as in this case, a shot of adrenalin. Sometimes it's startling to me to be so focused and driven. Sometimes that rush goes from motivating to stressful (and then I know it's time to step back and regroup as clearly my priorities have changed). But in the end, I see my list less as something I "have to do" and more of something I "get to do." There is choice built into every actionable item; to do or not to do, the consequences of which I am in complete and total control of.

I got to cross off a few fun items on my list today so I hope that tames my enthusiasm just enough to get through the eight hours I need for sleep tonight. I know I'll be having a large glass of wine before bed to help out a little too. That and the cool, gentle touch of my husband's hand on my back usually do the trick. If not, perhaps I'll consider adding "sleep through the night" to my to-do list!

41 for 41

Last month, on my 41st birthday, I did something I've never done before: I wrote down things I wanted to accomplish before my next birthday.

I'm not usually one to laze around not doing things I want to do. I am a list person (there's something about writing down an intention that makes you more accountable and actionable), but I tend not to put timelines on things because, well, I get things done--especially things that are a priority to me. But as I was staring out across Morro Bay from the deck of the cottage we had rented for my birthday celebration weekend, watching kingfishers, egrets, pelicans, and snowy plovers come and go in the early morning hours of my birthday, I had a sense that this year was special for some reason. I can't explain why. There was no particular trigger that made me go, AH-HA! There was just this feeling of BUILDING MOMENTUM...like the moment right before the curtain is raised on stage or the music before Lady Gaga launches into the chorus.

I can't say that this past year has been any more special for me than previous years (it feels to me like every year of my life just keeps getting better and better), but I can say that three things in particular stand out as extraordinary: my veganic garden, my marbling, and budding friendships. I get a sense that what I've learned, and continue to learn, from these experiences are the foundation to something BIGGER. Or, at least, propelling me to some next level. In any case, they definitely had an influence on my list.

Having said that, my "41 Things to Accomplish in my 41st Year" list was driven by instinct, not agenda. In other words, these are things I want to do JUST BECAUSE. And for no other reason. They came from a place where there were no expectations and no boundaries. I simply took a pen in hand, placed a piece of paper in front of me, and scribbled as fast as I could. The list is a product of gut instinct, things I felt I needed to do this year. Some are exciting (get back on the motorcycle!). Some are mundane (purge garage and closet!). Some are really, really scary to me (participate in a show with my marbling!). After coming up with the list, I noticed a few themes: personal enrichment and growth, creativity, the outdoors, and travel--exactly the way I've been purposefully driving my life these past six years of pro-active unemployment. I guess on some level my subconscious knew I didn't need a whole new direction in my life; I just needed MORE of the life that makes me so happy.

I wanted to post this before the New Year so people would know this is not a resolution list. There is no resolving going on here--just a pure desire to pursue, experience, inhabit, and enjoy. And while I'm aiming to check off 41 accomplishments by next November, you'll notice I only have 37 things listed. I intentionally left four spots open for whatever crazy new opportunities pop up in my life.

Because I've learned to fully expect the unexpected on this journey of mine.

41 Things to Accomplish in my 41st Year

When Good Things Happen to Good Friends

Last week, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend the launch of Desire to Inspire, a book by my ridiculously talented friend, Christine Mason Miller. I couldn't have been happier for her, not just for the beautiful launch party (it really was beautiful...held in the open space of an Arts & Crafts-style boutique hotel with exposed dark wood and hardwood floors and a stone fireplace, the room dimly lit with the glow of candles and full of of people bursting at the seams with enthusiasm mingling throughout...oh, and a lovely prosseco was served too!) but also for her success at getting a publishing deal. GETTING A PUBLISHING DEAL. As in she pitched the book idea to a publishing house, they liked it, she put the book together, they published it, and now it's out there! As any writer will tell you (me included), a publishing deal is the END ALL of end alls. And, as any writer would agree, we would be lying if we didn't admit to being a little ENVIOUS of such good fortune.

There's nothing wrong with envy. In fact, it can be a great motivator. It's jealousy that you have to look out for. But that is one thing I haven't felt in a long, long time (which says a lot about the mental place I am in right now). And it certainly did not come into play when Christine first told me about her book deal and then later when she showed me the galleys and then when I actually got my hands on the final product at the book launch. All I felt for her was joy and happiness.

And weirdly, I also felt a little pride.

I wanted to shout from the rooftop, "HEY EVERYONE...THAT'S MY FRIEND, CHRISTINE, AND SHE JUST PUBLISHED A BOOK! I HAVE A FRIEND WHO IS PUBLISHED!"

On the ride home from the book launch, I realized that the friends I hold the closest to me right now, the ones whom I emotionally invest in the most, are ones who make me proud. They are the people who live lives with purpose and integrity. They are the people who are honest with themselves--even when it's ugly. They are the ones who expect more from themselves than anyone else. They make no excuses. They share. They are actionable. And they revel in others' success as much as their own. They are the people I would have no problem swapping lives with because I would consider it an honor--and incredibly fascinating--to be them for a day.

Not every single person in my circle of friends falls into the above category. But the handful that does serves a purpose: when they experience success in some way, shape, or form, I am better off as a person. I am better off because, while we may be on different journeys, we walk the same path. And that path is beautiful, energizing, rich, and full of opportunities. How could one not benefit from that?

So, yes...I am proud of friends when they get a book published, when they save up enough money to buy land to build a house on, when they get high praise from a colleague at work, when they are asked to teach a photography class, when they get their master's, when they make a major lifestyle change for the better, when they work their butts off and reach a goal, when they take the high road in a difficult family situation--all these things make me want to shout from the rooftop, "HEY, THAT'S MY FRIEND! I KNOW HER!"

Can you hear me now, Internet?!!

Dude, That's Just Mean

I hope he got some sort of REAL ant treat afterwards. [youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTpldq3myV0?rel=0&w=640&h=360]

Excited About This!

I was going to hold off on talking about these until things were closer to finalized (as in actually buying an inventory of materials and making a few up) but as the weekend wore on and I kept coming back to them over and over, I just had to share them.

These are cards with my marbled papers. The cards have a final size of 5 x 7. My paper doesn't sit on top of the card. It fits INSIDE the framed window, so it gives it a matted-framed look. And, the thing I like about these cards, is that they ARE perfect for framing. So you're not only giving a card to someone, you're giving them a ready-to-frame piece of art. I'm hoping to have some ready to sell by mid-January.

I've been hesitant to turn my papers into cards, or what I consider to be plain ol' cards where the marbled paper is the card and not featured on the card. But these new frame cards feel right...it shines a spotlight on the beauty of marbled papers and makes them the center of attention.

What more could a marbler ask for?

Power is Closer than You Think

Your power is in your individuality. -Naked Cowboy

Best advice I've had in my life.

Things I Love: Forgive Me

I have no idea how I found her but I am very glad I did. Summer Pierre is an author and artist living in Brooklyn, NY and she is one of the people I enjoy my morning of coffee with. Granted, we're not sitting across from one another as we begin our day with a warm cuppa' joe. In fact, she doesn't even know she's having coffee with me. But she is one of the first blogs I go to in the morning as I begin to ease my way into the day (I'm not a jump-out-of-bed kind of person...I prefer to take my time waking up before entering the real world). Like I said, I don't know how I stumbled upon her but I've been following her artistic journey and life adventures for probably five years now.

Every once-in-a-while, Summer will post what she calls a one-page story on her blog. I have fallen head over heals for these gems (one of my favorites is here). One-page stories are exactly as they sound; she hand writes a little tale from her life around a hand-drawn illustration--all on one page. Sounds sort of basic and simple, doesn't it? Well, it is and it isn't. And that's what I love about them. Some stories have layers and layers to them where by the time you get to the end you find yourself going, "Wait, what just happened to me?" Other stories are more like a single, tasty lick from a lollypop and before you know it, it's over.

Summer created the 'zine, Forgive Me, as a home for her one-page stories. Each issue is 30+ pages (photocopied and pamphlet stitched in true 'zine fashion) and is filled from front to back with snapshots of life--bringing Oreos to class on snack day, having a crush on Sean Astin instead of Corey Feldman, naming (or not getting to name) your first pet, reading a map at Denny's while your parents are yelling at you, being part of a sad trio at the beach. It wasn't until Issue #2 that Summer noted on the inside cover that each story came from a single noun written on an index card. I had always wondered what prompted the origins of her stories. And, considering that the titles are all one word--Mistake, Skirt, Lunch, Weekend, Freckles--I should have caught on a little earlier.

I originally bought all four issues to give as little gifts to my writing group on our last meeting of the session. But then the wind storm hit and the power was out for five days and I found myself taking in an issue of Forgive Me each night. With no lamps to read by, I consumed them by candlelight. And now I can't imagine reading them any other way. It felt like Summer was telling stories at one of my dinner parties, candles scattered across the table amongst plates of food and bottles of wine, a story conjured up for a life lesson we need to purge ourselves of when in the company of those who GET US. Because that's ultimately what is so wonderful about Forgive Me--they are my stories too. Different characters, different settings, but with a common denominator: growing up, finding meaning in life experiences, and having the courage to stand in one's truth.

Despite having made my way through all current issues of Forgive Me, I'm not sure I'll be giving them away as gifts anytime soon. They are wonderful to hold, to flip through, to randomly read a story from, for enjoying the artwork, and for just having as an artist's labor of love. I guess you could say Forgive Me is my gift to me.

Thank you, Me.

Giving the Gift of Marble

One more post about marbling and then I promise to move on to a different topic for a few posts. I recently had the wonderful opportunity to give a couple of my marbled pieces to people as gifts. The first one was to my hubby, Emmett. (And yes, I count that as gift giving.)

During my last marbling session, Emmett came home from a long day at the office, grabbed a happy hour drink, and meandered into my studio to take a look at my latest creations (talk about a supportive husband!). He was immediately drawn to one particular piece--a large square of canvas that had a stone pattern on it. I was touched by his sincere admiration of the piece, which he kept returning to with much exclamation ("Babe, this is really beautiful!"), and decided to frame it up for him for is office. I figured that even if he decided he didn't want it there, I could find a spot for it in our home (after all, I loved the piece, too) or sell it at the Peach Tree Holiday Show. Well, I didn't have to worry about those alternatives as Emmett happily took the piece to work.

I love knowing this piece is in his office, that a little part of the creative me is there with him (besides the cards I frequently send him that he displays on one of his bookshelves), and that he finds my work not only interesting and professional enough to display, but proudly does so. He told me that after he put it up, the next person to walk into his office immediately noticed it and wanted to know more about the art of marbling. I love that! It's all part of my grand plan to bring marbling to the masses!

The other marbled piece I gave as a gift was to my lovely friend, Bill, for his birthday. Bill and his husband Kelly recently bought a vacation get away in Idyllwild. We celebrated his birthday there last month and my gift to him was professionally framing a marbled paper of his choosing. When I brought out my portfolio and started going through it, he immediately zeroed in on a piece and said he just HAD to have it. And this is the end result:

Bill chose a lovely bouquet pattern made on red Italian paper (oh, how classy!) with accents of gold (oh, how classier!). It is a piece that I knew was special but didn't know what was going to become of it. And then along came Bill. In his own words:

The stunning piece you gave me for my birthday continues to rule over the Idyllwild house. For those of you who haven’t seen it, the piece was made on red paper and is done in my favorite colors, red and orange with touches of gold. This happens to be the colors in the chairs of our living room and we had not found the right piece to hang over the mantel in that room. When Barb gave me my choice of about 30 pieces of paper she’d made for my birthday, I instantly knew that was the one! A few weeks later she arrived with the piece framed in beautiful gold and snuck it into position over the fireplace. I noticed it IMMEDIATELY because it so perfectly tied the entire room together. It even matches my FRINGE. And continues our tradition of filling our home with art made by our friends. So all hail to Barb, master paper maker and great, great friend.

Wow! Does a thank you or praise or endorsement get any better than that? I am simply in heavenly bliss knowing my marbled piece is in their beautiful, warm, and inviting home. How lucky am I?!

New Header!

I replaced the header earlier this week, with little fanfare. There was the whole loss-of-power-for-four-days thing that prevented me from updating it on the actual first of the month and then the wildly successful Holiday Show at Peach Tree Gallery that deserved time and space on the blog. So I quietly changed the header and am now just getting to talking about it. The image is a section of this full sheet:

The pattern is called Peacock and is relatively simply to do--a get-gel followed by pulling a bouquet comb in a wavy motion. The problem is, I generally stink when it comes to making this pattern. My peacocks look like they are in the middle of a hurricane or have had waaaaaaaay too much to drink at the family holiday dinner. The example above isn't as bad, though my peacocks definitely have HUGE, gaping necks. Oh well. I like the color palette though.

This sheet was for sale at the Holiday Show. I can't tell you how many people picked it up with an exclamation (wow!), stared at it for a long time, and then put it back. Perhaps facing all those peacocks, which could also pass as turkeys, I suppose, made people feel a little uncomfortable considering the presiding holiday menu this time of year; I recently read that the five weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas is the biggest poultry-consumption period of the year, with Americans consuming one-fourth of all the turkey they eat annually. I guess this is one of those learning moments--in the future, I'll only sell the Peacock pattern in the middle of summer, when all eyes (and hands) are around a fat, juicy hamburger or grilled hotdog instead!

Marbled-canvas Journals

One of the joys I discovered this year was marbling on canvas. One of the joys of that joy is using marbled canvas as the covers for my hand-bound journals. I mentioned in my previous post that my journals sold out at the Holiday Show. That wasn't totally accurate. What sold out were my canvas journals. On the first day. Two journals, with paper covers, returned home with me. My point is: the canvas-covered journals were a HUGE hit.

All of my journals are unique. No two are alike. At all. Ever. I'm not against mass production. It's just that it's not for me. I'd get bored. Unfortunately, because each journal is its own thing, it takes me a full day to make just two of them. I suppose I could rush the process more and get maybe three or four done in a day. But why do that? Why not enjoy the process? After all, as Neil Peart (drummer for the band, Rush) points out, "the point of the journey is not to arrive."

My journals are generally about 4"-5" by 5"-6" in size (smallish...perfect for traveling with); have anywhere from 80 to 100 pages; are filled with high-quality text, multi-media, or sketch paper; and have marbled covers as well as marbled signature wraps (the paper that goes around the paper in the journal). Prices range from $20 - $30.

If you are interested in ordering a journal (or multiple journals) as holiday gifts, please let me know by emailing me at Cheers [at] BarbSkoog [dot] com. You don't have to commit to buying one right now. I just need to know if there is an interest out there and if so, I'll hit the studio and marble up some more canvas and turn them into lovely journals. I'll then post photos of them on this site and THAT'S when you can actually order them.

Peach Tree Holiday Show Recap

Wow! What a wonderful show we had at Peach Tree Gallery this weekend! The gallery looked AMAZING filled wall-to-wall and top-to-bottom with spectacular work from the 13 participating artists. I was blown away when I stepped into the space and took it all in. Blown away!

Our customers were fantastic as well! The enthusiasm and appreciation they expressed for ALL the artists' work, whether they bought something or not, was so beautiful to experience. I must have spoken to a couple dozen people who were genuinely interested in the marbling process. And I overheard lots of conversations between customers and the other artists about their work and process as well. That's what I love so much about the people connected with Peach Tree--they truly have a deep and contagious love for art and the artist. As one of the artists said, "I can't get over how customers thank ME for my work when I'M the one that is grateful for their support."

I had told a friend prior to the show that I just wanted to "bring the art of marbling to the masses" and my goal with the weekend was to share my love and passion for the art with others. Well that goal was accomplished...and then some. Of course, I was thrilled that many of my individual marbled sheets have new homes and that I sold out of my journals and sold one of my framed pieces!

Many, many thanks to everyone who came and showed their support. I was touched that friends came from all over LA (even Eastsiders made the trek to the West Side!) to check out my latest creative endeavor. And I so value the words of encouragement and cheers from friends and family afar who would have gladly been at the gallery had they not lived in places like Minnesota, New York, North Carolina, and Australia!

In many ways, this show was a test run for me. I have BIG ideas for my work but wasn't sure if there was an audience for it, or if there was, if they were receptive to my style of marbling. The Peach Tree Gallery Holiday Show proved to me that YES, there is a market and YES, people like my work! I am so inspired and look forward to turning my ideas into actual plans with amazing (hopefully) results! Please continue to follow me on this blog and share the journey with me!