Don't Rule Out the Internet

This photo of me was taken by one of the artists in a studio nearby. I'm working on one of my current projects, painting on leather bags. I'm hoping I'm going to be able to get juried in so that I can sell my bags at Spanish Village. Two out of three judges have to approve the pieces.

Another artist passed this photo along to Bella, the Spanish Village dog, who also blogs. (See her posts at http://bellathedoginspanishvillageartcenter.blogspot.com/)

Nowadays everyone loves to blog. I do. I feel that I am sending my voice out into cyberspace and who knows who might "hear" it. I'd like to think I've touched someone.

About fifteen years ago, when contact on the internet wasn't so typical, I developed a friendship with a fellow poet who lived in Zimbabwe. I don't know if I influenced him, but he touched me profoundly. For one thing, he encouraged me to write a novel, something I had wanted to do for years. Someday I'll write another.

I think you can't help but love the internet. Well, I know there are lots of people who don't for one reason or another, but think about it. I can sit here at my worktable outside my studio with my netbook, which I take home and charge up at night and pack in my purse next morning, and I'm in contact with the whole world. I can write in my blogs; I can answer my email and write some of my own; I can look at photos to help me with my latest art project. I'm connected to the whole world.

I could sit here all day using the computer, but one thing I don't do is bring my power cord with me. That way I'm forced to put it away after awhile, but personally I think that's good. As much as I love the computer, there's a time to turn it off and get to work on my artwork.

Gunnie and Me

Look at this cute dog. I love dogs. Well, actually I think most people do. But actually most of my friends have cats. This dog, Gunnie, belongs to a friend who comes to visit us at Spanish Village. Gunnie jumped up, put his paws in my lap and licked my neck and then my entire face. I felt so good, so loved. Animals have a way of doing that, besides just lowering your blood pressure.

I have my own dog at home. I'd like to bring him to work, but we have a rule about not bringing them. I guess it's for the best. That way we can enjoy the dogs who come through the Village with their owners. There are some people whom I recognize just by their dogs, that is to say, if I saw them without their dogs, I probably wouldn't recognize them at all. Is that bad? All I look at is their animals.

I think most people have cats because they love them, but also because they're very easy to take care of. My very special friend has a cat who brings her toys and puts them on his bed when he mentions to her that she hasn't done so for awhile. She takes his socks and runs up and down the hall at night, growling at the mirror on her way by, but she's very lovable and friendly. She always knows when he doesn't feel well, and she acts accordingly.

I remember stories about animals. I have a friend whose cat would lie stretched out in the bottom of the porcelain bathtub when the weather was really hot. My parents' dog jumps up on the bed and leans against my father when there's an earthquake. My own dog doesn't seem to be bothered by earthquakes, but he doesn't like fireworks and other loud noises. He puts his front paws on the bed and buries his head under my arm. Since we live near the baseball stadium and Sea World, we hear them every night in the summer. Sometimes I turn the volume up on the television and that helps.

One of these days I'd like to draw some animals. One of the artists here at the Village uses a childlike style to paint the most wonderful dogs who are so happy and cheerful looking but also frequently are making social commentaries.

A Real Old Fashioned Cold

I seem to have a cold. I've had so few in my life, or at least in the last twenty or thirty years, that I hardly know what they're like or what to expect. I certainly don't love them.

I thought I would be fine, that I could just go on about my life even with a cold, but that doesn't seem to be the case. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I was all set to work at the Village, but I just couldn't. I didn't feel up to it.

I've noticed that in the past when I wasn't feeling well, I had no motivation to work on my artwork. All I want to do is sit and do nothing. When I'm well, there are very few things that will stop my working. I have a friend who calls me compulsive. Maybe I am but I think that's one of the ways you improve as an artist, or at any occupation, by continually working all the time. You improve your skills when you keep working. As an artist, it hardly matters what medium you chose, just chose one and get busy.

Above is part of a drawing from a sketchbook. I feel kind of like this drawing right now. But I'll be better soon and back at work.

Trees Need More Love

Here's a photo of some trees I created in a little book I made. I love trees; lots of people do. Someday I'll do a series on urban trees. They grow in the cities, frequently under adverse conditions, sometimes virtually ignored, but still courageously growing. I'd say they deserve a tribute.

Besides the obvious attributes trees provide such as shelter, fuel, and fruit and nuts, a big tree gives a sense of security. Two golden rain trees and a palm tree grow right in the doorway of my studio. I'm very attached to them, even though they're only six feet from the door and cut down on access to the studio. But if the Parks and Recreation Department came by and said they were going to cut the trees down, I'd be heartbroken. I count on them. They watch over our little corner of the Village.

Life changes and it seems there's little anyone can count on for sure, except certain aspects of nature. This morning I was travel south along the freeway and as I came over little rise, I looked out at San Diego Harbor. Amazingly, there was a tall ship in full sail. It was not the Star of India, that belongs to the San Diego Maritime Museum, but a different one with red crosses on each sail.

So you could argue that things haven't changed that much in a couple of hundred years anyway if we still have tall ships in our harbor. That's true, but I glance forward and then back at the ship. There was a car going by me in the slow lane. It was a man shaving with a cordless razor as he drove along. Yes, things do change no matter how much they may seem to stay the same.

One thing I did learn about trees is that they don't live forever, even ones that live and grow in the best of conditions. But in an ever changing world, for heavens sake, let them grow as long as they will. Don't cut them down. Please.