Here are a couple of peeks at my current project. I'm hoping to get it finished up sometime this week, but all of those little details are time consuming.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Mother Nature must be making up for such a mild winter, because it has been snowing all day long.
Thankfully we still have power. I look forward to cozying up on the couch for the rest of the evening and seeing what things look like in the morning.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Back when I was a teenager, and long before I became a vegan, I bought a vintage tooled-leather purse. I loved it to bits, despite the fact that I didn't (and still don't, for that matter) like carrying a bag around. I still think the colors and textures are amazing, but for the most part, it stays put, hanging on my closet doorknob.
So here is a (vegan approved) study of it's charming details.
You can find this drawing for sale --->HERE<--- at my Etsy shop.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
After Sean's grandmother passed away at the beginning of the year, it fell to me to scan and make copies of a bunch of their family photographs. Along with them was a box of Sean's baby books, in which I found some of the sweetest pictures of a newborn Sean and his mother. Her birthday was just around the corner, so I chose to do a mixed-media piece of the two of them as a gift.
I don't know how many times I almost ruined this thing along the way, but it somehow survived well enough for me to be happy with it.
Graphite, acrylic paint, and colored pencil.
Approximately 10" x 10" on a 12" x 12" piece of bfk.
(I wish I had thought to take pictures of it before it was wrapped; Sean did a beautiful job picking out the matting and framing).
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
...other things weighed heavily upon my mind.
When I first met Rachel, I was about ten years younger than I am today. I hadn't been out of high school very long and was moving into the last vacant apartment in her building. By the looks of things, everyone else that lived in the complex were already friends...or worse in my narrow young mind: fraternity brothers and their sweethearts. When I looked at my roommates: a gothed-out metal-loving boyfriend and our chain-smoking tattoo-artist friend, I had visions of being chased out with pitchforks.
I had bright pink hair; Rachel was a blonde.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, that pretty little blonde and all of her friends would not only accept me into their apartment building, but their lives entirely. We fed each other and borrowed items from each other's apartments without question. We took vacations together as families would. When one of us went to war overseas, we were all huddled together on that tiny front stoop in the snow, waiting for him when he finally pulled into the parking lot a year later.
Rachel lived directly across the hall from me. Our boyfriends both worked a job that kept them away from home Monday-Friday, so she and I spent many a day and night keeping each other company. We took turns driving to class every morning and enjoyed more than a few margaritas at the local mexican restaurant after our night classes let out. We formed a bond that I never could have expected.
And then a few years down the road, we had a falling out. The origins were ridiculous, but we were both incredibly stubborn so the grudge hung around much longer than it should have.
In 2009, one of our group lost his fight against brain cancer. His death unraveled me completely but managed to bring Rachel and I back to each other. I remember seeing her from across the funeral home, silk scarf covering where that blond hair should have been, looking thin from the treatments she had endured. Then our eyes met and we walked across the room, held each other and said nothing.
Rachel was one of the most driven people I've ever known. After completing her undergraduate studies, she went on to law school, just like she said she would (man, could that girl argue). She married a man she had loved for so long, and even after countless tragedies: discovering the breast cancer, her husband's health problems and subsequent surgeries, losing everything in a house fire...she continued on, stubbornly and gracefully.
On the morning of February 4th, Rachel left this world. My heart aches at the loss of my friend and sister. I am fortunate to have known her and am thankful that she twice passed an olive branch to me: once when I was no more than an immature and insecure young girl, and again as a grief-stricken woman. I can only hope to one day have a fraction of the strength that she possessed.
I miss you already...I (will) miss you always.
December 10th, 1981 ~ February 4th, 2012