Angry Chicken.

Well, March has zipped by.  I spent part of it in the fetal position, and the rest of it scurrying around for a local play.  Somewhere in there, these doodles managed to appear, all at church.  Keep your eye out for the angry chicken.  He bites.

Trying to loosen up a bit here, fooling with cross hatching.  I need more practice.

This feels uptight

Bwaahahah!!!  Giant chicken head crashes right into 'This Little Light of Mine'!  Muhuh-wahahah!

Frightened citizen on the left....

I know these are nothing stellar or earth-shattering.  Keeping a pen pressed against paper was a major accomplishment for me.  April's gonna' be better, right?

April Day

I'm breathing Spring.



I took this picture:



The rest were taken by...



My Daydreamer.

Easter Basket

My family decided...



...that instead of chocolate bunnies...



...they wanted homeless kittehs.



Wish granted.

Visitor: A Springtime Story

A sure sign...



SPRING has come to this northern land.

Bunny's been waiting aaalll winter for a fresh nibble...




Visitor would like some, too.
 




Our Heroine has a better idea!  C'mon!






Mmmmm....that's tasty.





Wrap it all up with a Great Big Hug.




SPRING has come to this northern land!

Sunday Circles

Hi-Ho! Super Speck here, leaping life in a single bound.

So, the regular sleeping and I? Not so much. Something about the lack of sun, and my inevitable sink into a depressive state....makes me crazier than normal this time of year.  All this means that I went to church today on about 90 minutes of sleep.

Turns out 'Exhausted Cathy' = 'Super loose sketching'!!!.  Yay!



She looks like some kind of new Godzilla, with the super-robotic beefy arm at the left and her mega Medusa seaweed hair on the right.

And this?  Something about a crescent moon and half-dying-Tim-Burton-marijuana-plants-that-don't -really-look-like-marijuana and ovary-eggs-nestled-in-a-cross-hatched-world-of-fibrous-vessels.  I'm trying not to think about it too hard:


While stumbling around in a half-awake stupor was greeaaaat for unlocking that scary subconscious drawing monster, my outlook was horrible and I ended up taking a 3 hour nap this afternoon.

After that:  auditions for 'Steel Magnolias'.  My 'nervous while waiting' lobe kicked in and I turned out this tight-sphinctered piece of dreck:


There has to be a balance somewhere. While I want to be all loose and free all the time, sleep must be had. Otherwise I become a public safety hazard and wreak emotional havoc upon my world. I also know that trying to do this every day gets old, wearily old. All of the sketching so far has reminded me that creating daily is not optional for me. A couple of other fun projects have crept onto my work table. When they're fully gestated, I'll share them with you.

The circle format, even with the addition of color, is starting to feel a little stale, especially when I see them lined up on the blog.  But drawing still feels right and I don't believe the format is exhausted yet.  I would like my style to take a more sophisticated turn.  Pen is not as natural for me as pencil.

Practice is in order.

Sunday found me completing three circles, two started during church.


My first scan was accidentally in grayscale, but I like it that way:



Chunkier:

And one drawn during our 'Star Wars' marathon:

Something about the flair of a Jedi's robes during a light saber fight made me want to go here.


Have you been drawing at all?  Leave a link in the comments.  I'd love to see what you're up to.

Here it is, my first post of 2011. I am officially sticking my tongue out at last year and looking toward the horizon.

New Year's Eve was a quiet evening with a few friends. There was 'Settlers of Catan', finger food, and fireworks at midnight. My friend Deanna was here. She's an artist (and high school art teacher). We broke out the Mandalas and markers:


This one's mine. It was going downhill fast but seemed to level off and end in a good place.

Deanna's

Pen and ink happens to be one of her favorite mediums, so it was no surprise that this lovely design evolved under her hand. I am inspired by the way she brought color into it. And that's the signature of a creative mind, don't you think?

My daughter's also been caught up in the spirit:

Lots of color! She's responsible for the first picture too. I'm so proud of her for throwing herself into any project that comes our way.

I took a break after this, my head being full of other details. Real life elbows it's way in line and has a way of taking precedence over personal projects and cyber-life. But here I am anyway, Super-Speck in the face of the universe, determined to keep moving forward.

October 2nd, 2010

Dear Blog,

I have been away for a while. This is regretful.

This summer ended with many changes in my life. I believe they are all positive, but the process has not been easy. Nor is it over.

One of the momentary benefits has been the freedom to get back to one of my true loves: All things fiber. My spinning wheel has been watching me with longing eyes. A few new knitting projects have crept into my lap. I've been dreaming of new garments, hungry for the process of pattern drafting. I want to design fabric, lots of fabric. The are new tools in my arsenal that are fueling old ideas for layering, creating depth on the yardage surface. I'm fighting the urge to jump into it all at once.

Instead, I will start in one small corner. I will sketch. I will order fresh dyes. I will make luscious fabric. After that, who knows?

With Love,
Funky C.

Very Funny, Lynn Krawczyk.

Oooo, look who know so muuuch....Lynn posted on my bloooog...isn't she impwessive???

Remember, Miss Lynny-Baby: There are things that one can do with Bengay, Nair, and Superglue. MMuuuwaaaahhh....

Today, the petting farm. Witness The Farm Animal Whisperer:

Her legs almost touch the ground and she remembers how to ride.

Little Oreo Goat figured out she could climb through the fence rails and break free. Greedy for carrots, that one.


Squeaker needs a goat of her own, don't you think?

Chook-chook....my word for calling chickens, from an old Mother Goose poem.


Squeaker on the farm. My girl loves animals and I love my girl. Thanks, Lynn, for a great weekend!

oookkkaayyyy......

I'm posting.

I'm at Lynn's. We are wearing pajamas. We are watching horrible television. We are knitting.

I love it.

Speed Bump

Sometimes a metaphor is so strong that it can't be avoided.

Yesterday, I tripped on a speed bump in a parking lot. My body lurched toward the pavement and was stopped by my face. There was no chance of getting my hands out in time. Nothing appears to be broken, but there is plenty of swelling and some lovely bruises forming. The injuries list includes the right side of my face, both knees--especially the right one, pavement burn on the edge of my right hand. And this morning, my entire right arm is sore and weary. Oh, and lest we forget, my spirit is officially damaged.

This act was humbling on so many levels. Any vanity I may have been storing has left the building. The facade of always being in control is lain bare. Necessity is requiring me to rely on others. Welcome to my personal h-e-Double Toothpicks. Want to see what it looks like? I've included a happy picture for comparison.

The smile was painful, though it did light up my eyes a bit. Here's what it feels like:

Awesome. Couple this with lots of blubbering and vocal distress, then tell me why I told the nice stranger that I was fine and could get up on my own.

Enough misery. I have been knitting a bit:

It is a basic, comfy shawl for my daughter who's been dragging around in my coziest clothes and then losing them in her bedroom. Yarn: Cascade 220. Needle: Addi Turbo, size 9. I may need to keep it near my person for a few days after blocking, so it smells like 'mom' too.

The pattern is simple and free. You can find it on Ravelry. Click here.

Spring Rain

Nothing makes me feel alive in the same way as the fresh scent of spring rain.

Transitional

I've got that tingling, fuzzy feeling in my chest today.

My world seems to be up in the air. Nothing feels settled. Several quilt projects are half done, waiting for the spark of inspiration. Every room in my house needs a little work....not really crusty, but in need of a little up keep. I'm in the process of choosing paint colors again. That takes forever for me. It's so easy in my work and so difficult in my home. Why is that? The weather is the chaotic....mud mixed with snow, puddles and ice, green in one friend's yard, barren in mine. Oy!

Here's a little green in my house:


This amaryllis suddenly burst into life after months of not being watered. I love how plants to that....react to the longer days and prove you wrong about being dead. The photo is actually older. I've been waiting for a chance to share it with you and will post the photo progression in my sidebar every day.

I think the real cause for my tentative feelings is because yesterday I accepted a comission--a substantial comission. Comission work has not gone well for me. I develop hangups that cause me to procrastinate and then it all goes haywire. Every time I take one on, I promise myself that I won't screw it up....yet I always do. Currently I have five in the docket and am working on heart quilts instead. Not good business.

So, once again, I'll control what I can today. I'll do laundry and pick up the house. My sewing machine will wait patiently. Maybe there'll be time for a little stitching this evening.

Banner Girl

This morning finds me sitting on the couch with complete silence. Mark it down as an Important Day to Remember. Whoa! It's over now. There's a child helping himself to breakfast. Dang---see how short that was? That moment of peace? But having savored even two seconds of solitude will wash a sense of calm over my whole day.

That's the intro. Now for the goods.

I lead a Sunday School opening on---you guessed it---Sunday mornings. It's fifteen minutes of raucous guitar and complete anarchy with children ages 3-9. Then I send them off to their teachers who must live with the consequences of my rash actions. Yes, I get weird pleasure out of this. Don't know why, not planning to analyze.

So, for my opening room, I've been mulling over some new art, namely a banner celebrating Palm Sunday----something springy and festive. Saturday night, I made the jump. I bent my will upon jumping in while disregarding the fact that there is no clear space in my painting area---it is full of kid's coats and school stuff and furniture I mean to reupholstered (see 'about me' to the right). Disregarding the fact that there is no room on the table where I mix dye---it is covered with laundry, the clean and the unclean. And completely ignoring the fact that my loving husband is upstairs single handedly putting to bed three unruly children. So determined was I to have my way.

I began by sketching in Corel Photo Paint:


Then I proceeded to prepare fabric and supplies. Translate: rifling through piles looking for the #$%^!# Ann Johnson 'Color by Design' book that I know is around somewhere---I know I've run by it recently. Translation #2: being disgusted at the old batch of corn dextrin paste that is discovered to be moldy and the fact that I don't seem to have any fresh corn dextrin. Oh look! I apparently ordered a 10# box of it last fall. See? I'm a genius after all.

O.k., moving on....we have sketch, we have supplies. We begin:


The words are painted in corn dextrin resist and are drying. The palm frond is painted with a greeny black mx dye--no thickener. There are three fronds in the sketch, but I'm happy with one big frond. I'm feeling really loose and in a groove at this point. I decide to mix up some turquoise, lighten my outline green and add a little yellow to it.


Life is good. Now for the background wash. But the corn dextrin's not dry. I coax it along with a hair dryer and ponder the fact that I could've started earlier in the day and allowed the dextrin to dry on it's own. But creative geniuses are suppose to have completely messed up internal clocks, right? I'm happy with the hair dryer. It seems to be working quickly.

So, I begin to lay down the background wash, mixing colors as I go. All is well.


Then I identify the tingling feeling I had in my chest while hairdrying: the resist is not completely dry. There could be some serious bleeding when the dye hits the resist. As the dye runs into the resist area, I can see it bleeding under the fabric and I...I....well, in the words of the always wise, ever eloquent C-3PO....

"I'm Scrap!"