This is the progress I've made on that little piece I started. "Le Madre" It looks much better in person... there is a lot of glazing in the background and it catches the light very nicely. Still need to shade and glaze the lower half, add a banner, paint the edges gold, and drill holes for hanging. This picture looks all blue-grey. Yech. Trust me about it looking much better in person.

I'm under the weather. Maybe a summer cold, maybe a result of my self imposed experiment with sleep deprivation. Either way, I feel like shite.

Stayed in last night, sleeping off and on and taking telephone calls. Have to work later today. Friday night I ended up going out with a very tall and witty Englishman. He is great at people-watching. Very snarky. Looking forward to hanging out again. I like when he tells me I am "filthy".

I've been reading a littl bit of mythology, concentrating on Medusa. I didn't know Athena gave her the ugly head as punishment for Medusa being raped by Poseidon in Athena's temple. Jan, Athena is a classic bitch, don't you think?!?! Maybe the original bitch, even.

I'm going to get back to feeling sick now.

waiting

Today has been wonderful. Productive and creative. Now I'm drinking coffee and painting. (And waiting on Mr. Martini to come see me.)

I loathe waiting for paint to dry!

Here is what I started tonight. It is on a found piece of wood that measures about 18" by 9". I'm using acrylic paint, spray paint, acrylic glazing medium, varnish... I think I am going to throw in some charcoal and oil pastels, as well.

Found this pic on my camera. I think my son took it. This is where I "work" on a lot of my stuff. I am apparently only working my jaw in this photo, though.

I know people have been reading this blog. See, I have that little thing on the lower right side that tells me where people are visiting from. I appreciate people taking the time to read about my silly little life. Maybe say hi or something?

What happens to men at the 35-40 point? Do they just decide, "Hey, I'm gonna grow a mustache and be a douche?"

Just wondering....

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I feel like I am entering a period of my life that is familiar. Strange, but familiar.

I like to think of most things that happen in my life as research. "Sorry, I can't tonight. I'm studying."

This somehow removes my responsibility for things that happen, and I realize that is a problem.

However, I don't foresee that I will stop my survey of the human experience anytime soon, barring that I get hit by a truck or some other dubious happening.

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The last few days have been nearly surreal. Yes, yes, I am taking my medication. It just seems that time is being punctuated by intense bursts of extreme perfection and total chaos. I guess this is what Mr. Martini has been trying to tell me when he talks about matter and anti-matter.

All my projects are at a comfortable lull right now, so I am really just trying to enjoy the problem of having too much time on my hands...without abusing it.

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Secret Agent Man suggested that I learn to bide my time, and he is absolutely right that I should. I'm terribly impatient. If I am not working on creating something, I feel like I am wasting my time. Which leads to guilt and self loathing and general anxiety.

I guess the rainy morning has me feeling exra introspective.

I am making it official right now: Summer is over.

The kids have gone back to school, Wit-Knee and I both got jobs, Mr. Martini and I seemed to have come to some conclusions and are seeing each other again, it is raining like it hasn't in months and I have that wonderful rush that comes at the end of a book. I feel like a new cycle is starting up.

I'm not the only one. Kevin and I have been giddy as school girls in his studio all morning.

I'm excited about this fall. I have a slew of classes lined up at the gallery, I'll be getting my own place, the new job will ease my aching pockets, we'll be working on the 12 x 12 x 20 show, I've got one of my best friends back, and I'm sure there will be more.

Be sure to check out the Horse/Horse blog.

Some of the junk on my dresser:

I'm 34. When are boys going to stop being confusing?

Orientation at the new job today. I've already been to the fall product meeting and I actually had fun. Hanging out with a bunch of chicks, trying on perfume and lotions? This is work? Okay.

It is amazing what a regular night of sleep can do. I think I should do it more often, for sure.

I'm totally not motivated in the art department this week, and I think it is in direct correlation to the messiness of my room. I suck at occupying small spaces.

My life is pretty uneventful at the moment, and I'm grateful for that.

this is better than drunk dialing, right?

Fears I have:

- I will never be able to sustain a stable and committed relationship.

Bigger fear:

That I only feel like I should have that kind of relationship because of my age and the sad fact that I am only getting older.

But also... that is what people want. Or need.

Okay, so I am afraid that I'm never going to figure this out and that it doesn't matter anyway, because I'm never going to be what anyone worth having will want.

I'm Candy and I don't know how to be anything else.

I've been in a bad mood since I got up at 6:30 a.m. I mean, HELLA bad mood. Fuckallthisshitihateeverythingiamgoingtoburnthismotherfuckerdown!!!

In an attempt to be positive, I am smoking some weed and will try to compile a list of things that don't suck.

- Big tubs of fresh blueberries for a $1. Especially a handful of them tossed over a bowl of vanilla yogurt.

- Psychotic Girl by the Black keys.

- Yard Sales! (Now I have a bunch more shit that I don't need.)

Dismal, indeed.

Is there a particular scent you are interested in today?

<---- Journal page. Click for larger image. I've been playing around with packing tape transfers the last few days.

The art collective that we've been talking about forming for a year now has finally taken shape. We are called Horse/Horse and we've taken on our first project: 12 x 12 x 20. This will be a group show in December to take place at the Gallery at Brunwick. The show will consist of pieces no larger than 12" x 12" and priced at no more than $20. Anything else goes. I will be posting an official Call for Artists in the next few days with all the details. We started a blog last night: Horse/Horse Collective Blog. We have a whole list of projects to work on and we'll be keeping the blog updated at least once a week.

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I got the job I interviewed for yesterday. Let's just say I will be peddling lotion at the mall. You know the store.

It is a job, dammit.

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Anyway, I've been feeling super anxious the last few days about needing a job and looking forward to getting my own place. It has been such a long time since I've had this kind of craving for stability. All I want is to be able to pay the rent and have some peace and quiet so I can work on art and writing.

I feel like I have lost a year of my life to turmoil and if I can't get it back, well then I will try to make up for it by living very intentionally and for myself. I'm trying to figure out how to be practical and still preserve the romance of life. Is this what 35 is about?

(And then) Mr. Martini showed up the other night with a few bottles of wine, some pasta and a blanket for a late night picnic, catching me off guard. He always has a way of doing that. Yes, yes, he is back in my life just three weeks after I swore to his mother and my own that I was not going to let him just waltz back into my life as he has so many times in the past after making yet another exit. Am I crazy?

Yes. It is documented. But this is the real proof.

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Also, having a 16 year old doesn't help. It has been a rough week. Thankfully they go back to school next week.

Feels like the pieces are falling into place today.

"tattoos aren't just for sailors and whores anymore"

Okay, the other thing I am obsessed with lately are the tattooed sideshow-ladies. "A Life of Her Own Choosing" is a neat article on one such woman.

Somebody special sent me to a good site full of vintage photos of mostly heavily tattooed people. The women intrigue me the most:

Nay Nay was telling me the other day about a paper she was writing for her philosophy class. For the paper, she was to define what is beautiful and what is ugly within her culture. We were in the middle of the shampoo aisle at the time that we were having this conversation, and I wonder if the other shoppers even knew or cared that we were having a life crisis situation when my sister looked at me wide eyed and asked in true horror, "Shit, what is my culture?" I didn't know what to say. This was a heavy moment. What is our culture, really?

This feeling of displacement reminds me again and again of the tattooed ladies. They defied cultural beauty standards, setting themselves apart, permanently. They traveled. They lived on the fringes. They weren't afraid of pain. They wrote their own stories through body art and a way of life.

Now everybody and their mother has a tattoo--including mine!

gypsies, telemarketers and phone sluts, oh my!

I am obsessed with all things Gypsy.

This morning I decided that I am going to do my first ever themed, narrative journal. The title is 'The Gypsy and the Mystic' and it is the story of a love affair that I don't know the end of yet. The story will be told through images and very, very few words. I am excited about this.

I have a dream that when I finally settle down and decide to become a homeowner again, I will have a gypsy wagon, or vardo, in the backyard to use as my art/writing studio.

Of course mine would be adorned with lots of eyes!
.

The amazing thing about these modern vardos is that you can buy a kit to build one that you can fold up and haul behind your vehicle. See the trailer hitch?

If you are interested in the history of Gypsies, this is the best site I have found so far. Now I want to go to Poland and see the Gypsy museum (it has an outdoor exhibit of a Gypsy camp!)

My sister and I have discussed, more than a few times, how we relate to many aspects of Gypsy culture in the way that are parents raised us and the traveling that we did. We literally did pull a little trailer behind us and lived out of it often enough.

I like this quote:

"Gypsies are known to steal chickens and to cheat when selling cars, but they have never organized a war, never persecuted others, never manufactured bombs, never perpetuated industrial pollution."

Of course, we didn't steal chickens. My parents were of the 60's: tax evasion and welfare fraud was their thing.

Today has been great. I slept in for a change, got some belongings sorted, went to the library, knocked out some laundry, started the course proposals for September and took lots and lots of notes on various projects, current and future. I love living in such a cool, stable environment. I'm already falling back into the work pattern that I like: The days I spend brainstorming, planning and researching, and the days that I actually get down and dirty and make it happen, in a perfect ebb and flow.

Speaking of planning, I stayed up late planning my immediate future regarding the housing crisis in my life. I have a plan. I am still flushing it out, but I'm feeling really good about it. Whenever I am in my planning mode, I think of something my high school Geography teacher had taped to the front of his desk, which seemed to be the place I like to zone out the most. I am totally kicking myself for not paying attention in that class now that I am older and want to go to places like Poland, or at least be able to find it on a map and daydream about it. Anyway, the sign read: If you fail to plan, you plan to fail." Wait, let me put it to you how the sign really read:

IF YOU FAIL TO PLAN,

YOU PLAN TO FAIL!

God, it still gives me chills!

Oh, Mr. Wilsey, with your big scary grin and coordinating track suits, if you gave me nothing else(certainly not the ability to find Poland on a map), you gave me that. What a gem. *sigh*

Anyway. My plan is largely dependent on me getting a job that I am going to apply for tomorrow. A job for which, on the resume Wit-Knee and I worked on today, included my 2 1/2 years as a "Phone Entertainer" as part of my job history. It actually made sense to reveal my dirty little job secret in this case. I never thought the day would come! All that experience and nothing to show for it until now, when I am hoping on job at a call center. A call center. Ugh. But hey, I have a couple of years of "phone experience", so that should get my foot in the door, right? I wasn't kidding around when I said this artist is tired of starving.

Journal entry from last night.

send me dead flowers and i won't forget to put roses on your grave

Usually when I move into a new place, I buy something as a housewarming gift to myself... something pretty and unpractical. For Grandma's house in Alma I bought a monkey figure holding a mirror. For my apartment, it was a carved mermaid surrounding a mirror. For Matt's house, it was an incense burner. For Kevin and Wit-Knee's apartment. I decided that because my stay here is temporary, these Pink Ladies I picked would be appropriate. Something that won't last long.

And now it appears that my stay here will be more temporary than I thought. Due to financial constraints, they are moving at the end of the month. I feel very bad for the troubles that are having. And I don't yet know where I am going, but I have the month to figure it out.

We moved my stuff over here this weekend, and now it is pointless to unpack everything. So I am dividing everything up until what I need to live and be productive, and what I can put into storage. I'm pretty happy about this, actually, as paring down on my necessary objects is liberating already.

The art show was nice on Friday. Don't know why I didn't take pictures. Saw some friends and read some poetry. I only read three pieces because my book of writing was locked up in somebodies house. I read with Quin. He reads quite well. I would like to improve my performance and read some more in the future. I really miss the open mic nights at Eye Candy. It was a great place/way to work out new pieces.

Most of the weekend was spent with my Secret Agent Man. I agree with him on the thought that being able to move together so well is a good sign in regards to our potential together. Everything is feeling mellow, easy and right.

Don't know what this week holds other than this packing/unpacking business and drawing up some proposals for future classes at the gallery.

Even though my life is still in flux to a degree that I am not at all comfortable with, I still feel good. Really good.