Time Flies.

Hello, remember me?  Did you know you were supposed to write posts more often than every two months or so.  Sorry about that.  The holidays got crazy and I'm just now getting caught back up.  

At any rate, I'm back, and I even have an artist interview to post (probably tomorrow).  Joelee is puny today and Piggybank went to the vet this morning to be neutered, so I'll have my hands full with those two tonight.  

Last week I decided the new year needed something big to get it rolling, so I went into the salon and chopped all of my hair off and then colored it a fantastic red!  I figured a new, fresh hairstyle would bring out some locked up creativity.  I've been working on a new series of artworks and need all the help I can get.

So here we are, it's 2014, sorry for the delay on wishing you a new year.  Now, let's get back to work.

To Lose A Grandpa Twice.

My Grandpa has always been a major part of my life.  From the minute I was born he was sitting with me on the front porch swing, showing me where somebody or other lived on some backroad, or taking me along while he and his friends drank coffee and gossiped.  He loved to tell stories and was always talking.  He never met a stranger.  He is the reason I love auctions, gallivanting, and farm-life.  I grew up viewing him as some larger-than-life being.  Someone who would always be there.  He was my rock, and Superhero.

Fast forward to just a few years ago.  Grandpa started to repeat himself a lot, but he was almost eighty, so we attributed that to old age.  Then when I was pregnant with my daughter he had a series of strokes, and after that he was really changed.  The diagnosis was Alzheimer's and I was stunned.  

No longer could I call and have a conversation with him.  He'd get stuck on the same sentence over and over.  Or even worse, he'd be completely silent.  He grew irritable, moody, and even more quiet.  Who was this man?  What happened to the real Grandpa?  He seemed frail and foreign.  I found myself pulling away.  Protecting myself from the heartbreak.  Putting up a bit of a wall between us. 

My Daughter Joelee and My Grandpa Joe.  (I took this photo just two weeks ago).

My daughter never knew the real Grandpa.  She only knew the Alzheimer's Grandpa.  However, he loved her just as much as the old grandpa would have.  And she enjoyed his company despite his illness.  I got them together whenever I could, but to be truthful I had a hard time being around him.  This shell that used to house this gigantic personality was depressing.  This man I loved with all my heart was replaced with a stranger.  It wasn't fair that he'd been taken away from me.  I was angry that I never really got to say goodbye.

He started to lose weight about a year ago.  He looked sickly.  He was still getting around and going places, but he looked skeletal.  He was silent most visits, only perking up to talk to Joelee, sometimes slipping up and calling her "Julia" thinking she was me.  I was fearing that the adult me was slipping from his memory.

Two weeks ago, it was decided that we'd go to the lake and visit.  My Dad, Grandpa, Uncles, Joelee, and my nephew.  We ate a picnic and took photos.  Grandpa seemed in good spirits, but was having a hard time breathing.  We had a really nice day.  I think that may be one of the few times (other than holidays) that we got together as a group.  Little did I know that'd be the last time I'd see my grandpa.

I got the call last Tuesday that Grandpa had passed away.  It was a relief and a shock.  I'd already lost him once to that awful disease, and now he was gone physically.  It seemed so surreal.  I coped fine at the viewing, but the funeral hit me harder than I was expecting.  So final, so permanent.  For some reason the losing him twice; once mentally and then physically made it easier and harder at the same time.  I was mad that I didn't have the real him these last few years, but glad that perhaps my stepping back had softened the blow of losing him physically.  The man that died wasn't the real Grandpa.  It was Alzheimer's Grandpa.  The parts of him I miss so badly:  the stories, the laughter, the memories, the talks hadn't surfaced for years.  I still have all that in my heart, and that's comforting.  And a bit of comfort is all I can ask for right now.  

A Whole New Me!

Got my long-fronted pixie like I wanted.  Can't believe how much it changed my looks.  Add that to my newly re-found fit body and a new-to-me yardsale wardrobe and I feel like a whole new person!

So happy right now!

New Year's Resolutions--2013 Edition.

This is my favorite time of the year.  How inspiring is a fresh, brand-new year spreading out before you?  I feel like I've got an imaginary pep squad behind me all day saying, "You can do it!  You're fantastic!  This is Your year!"

Cheering Kids via Flickr Commons.

I won't bore you with all my goals.  I've been writing them since early December and have more than two pages worth.  I'll just share a few.

• Wake up before dawn daily (so far so good--up before 6 everyday this week).
• Enter a juried art show.
• Interview at least 20 more artists.
• Try a new recipe a week.
• Make it to 300 sales.

My "Someday Gallery"--aka the old John Deere Dealership in town.

• Go inside my 'someday gallery.'
• Get my press up and running.
• Start and Finish 90 Days of Exercise (I'm on Day 4 Already).
• Do a 365 Day Project (On Day 3).
• Get my ears pierced--yes, I'm 27 and have never had earrings.
• Start working on the 'perfect wardrobe'--(in other words, clothes that fit).
• Volunteer my time.
• Say "Yes" more than "No."
• Teach Joe to write all her letters and numbers (this is going really quickly, I'm happy to report).

That's all I'll take your time up with.  I'm really, really looking forward to this year.  I've got big plans.

What are your goals/resolutions this year?

A Bit Of Artist Doubt Overwhelming Me.

Cattle at Huddard-Kivett farm, north of Martinsville by Frank M. Hohenberger, 1927. via.

I'm not sure what is bringing this on.  My camera is broken at the moment, so perhaps it's the fact that I haven't gotten to go out and take pictures for a bit.  Perhaps it's the fact that my shops have been a little quiet lately.  Perhaps it's because winter is setting in around here, and it's really not my favorite time of year.  Whatever it is, I'm a bit overcome with this sense of "Holy cow, am I really good enough to match wits with the likes of the other artists out there?  Am I worthy of calling myself an artist?"  I am sure this feeling will pass without much of a concern, but it is an annoying, gnawing feeling at the present.  I know I'm not alone, I know a lot of artists have this feeling come over them sometimes.  Just wish I could shake it.  I do believe I'll go run about the house dancing to some music with Hoot and that may help, if not it most definitely can't hurt either.

On a side note, I'm still swooning over the entire Frank M. Hohenberger Collection, if you couldn't tell.

What I Wear Daily.

I've gotten in the habit of wearing almost this exact same outfit every day.  Switch around tank top and snap-shirt colors and patterns, but otherwise it's the same style outfit daily.  Also, keep in mind that the shirt isn't fitted--it's usually a men's sized work shirt.  I want to get out of this habit, and start wearing clothes that fit (being that all my clothes are too big now).  So I'm starting a segment on the blog entitled:  "I'd Wear That."  I'll be putting all my fashion inspiration on here best that I can.

Via my Polyvore.

Feedback is always appreciated.  I'm pretty clueless when it comes to fashion and beauty stuff.  As you can see from the above--comfy and practical are the most important criteria.

What does it mean?

"I Can't Be Dreaming" by Me.

From as far back as I can remember I've had this strange pull, this pang in my heart, that randomly happens when I'm going down the road.  It can be triggered by lots of different things--a woodsy smell, sunlight filtering through the trees and onto the road, the way a certain road curves out of sight, a fencepost.  It's such a strange feeling, as if I'm remembering something, but I only get flashes.  Blips of pictures.  I don't know what it means.

I'd love to find the place that I long for.  It seems be in the middle of nowhere, forgotten, with that perfect rustic, wild, just rained, woodsy, dirt smell.  The winding road falling at it's feet.  An overgrown driveway.  A farmhouse grayed to perfection.  Perhaps it's just a dream I've had that realizes itself every once in a while in real life.

What do you think?