Billy: You don't have any cats.
Madolyn: No.
Billy: I like that.
Madolyn: No.
Billy: I like that.
P.S. I am so excited. Two cats are now following me on Twitter! (hahahaha)
I did the second run for the Juicy print yesterday. I'm really excited about picking up screenprinting again- I've got some ideas brewin'.
I decided to entitle this print Juicy Jangles, which is Juicy's nickname when she wears her bell necklace. Yes, she has different names for most occasions.
I decided to entitle this print Juicy Jangles, which is Juicy's nickname when she wears her bell necklace. Yes, she has different names for most occasions.
...no, not even close, but I did screenprint for the first time today in six years. I suck at it! but am also really excited. It's so repetitive, it will be easy to improve quickly.
I used a little Speedball Kit I got a couple of years ago. I've had the screen ready for about six months, and today, I did my first run.
All I can say is that the unfamiliar is really daunting to me. I am really fearful of things I don't know how to do naturally (Oh, wait. That's everything.). I learned screenprinting at UT, but doing it on my own always seemed like too much.
Good thing I realized today it's super easy.
There's a moral to this story somewhere.
Can you guess who my inspiration is for this print? I'll give you a hint: she's adorable.
I used a little Speedball Kit I got a couple of years ago. I've had the screen ready for about six months, and today, I did my first run.
All I can say is that the unfamiliar is really daunting to me. I am really fearful of things I don't know how to do naturally (Oh, wait. That's everything.). I learned screenprinting at UT, but doing it on my own always seemed like too much.
Good thing I realized today it's super easy.
There's a moral to this story somewhere.
Can you guess who my inspiration is for this print? I'll give you a hint: she's adorable.
I don't like this because I spoon with Juicy. I love it because I spoon with Juicy, and I wish I could spoon with her til I'm old and gray. (sob)
By the way, I made a painting about spooning. I don't have an image on this computer, but you can see it here. It's called I Love You (Let's Spoon).
Fun fact: It is the ONLY painting I've sold during an art opening. I think it's because spooning is a universal love language. A lady bought it for her brother as a wedding gift.
I now have an Upcoming Events page. You can reach it by clicking on the Upcoming Events link right under the banner at the top of this page. Now you never have to wonder when and where my artwork will be displayed. (You can thank me later)
I'm thinking in a couple of months I may get around to making an About page, too, so that's something you can look forward to as well- right in time for Christmas!
Lastly, because I had a nightmare about Juicy being in danger last night, here are a few cute pictures of her, where she is not in danger.
I'm thinking in a couple of months I may get around to making an About page, too, so that's something you can look forward to as well- right in time for Christmas!
Lastly, because I had a nightmare about Juicy being in danger last night, here are a few cute pictures of her, where she is not in danger.
I love my cat Juicy, but she is a scoundrel.
Every morning, sometime between 4 and 7am, she begins meowing. It doesn't matter if she's in my bed or locked out of my room, she's up before the sun and wants me to be, too.
Feeding her shuts her up temporarily, but what she really wants is for me to start my day. So whether she's sitting outside of my door or next to my face, she meows every twenty minutes until I get up. I think she knows I need every hour of the day to accomplish what I want to accomplish.
"Get up!" I hear with every meow. "Live life! Work hard! Bring home the bacon! Literally!"
Once I finally put my feet on the floor for good, she follows me around, meowing for about twenty minutes. Then, THEN, she has the AUDACITY to jump on my bed and go straight to sleep. Each day, on my way out the door to work, I leave behind my slumbering jerk of a cat.
If she wasn't so adorable, I'd send her to a farm where she could better fulfill her calling.
Every morning, sometime between 4 and 7am, she begins meowing. It doesn't matter if she's in my bed or locked out of my room, she's up before the sun and wants me to be, too.
Feeding her shuts her up temporarily, but what she really wants is for me to start my day. So whether she's sitting outside of my door or next to my face, she meows every twenty minutes until I get up. I think she knows I need every hour of the day to accomplish what I want to accomplish.
"Get up!" I hear with every meow. "Live life! Work hard! Bring home the bacon! Literally!"
Once I finally put my feet on the floor for good, she follows me around, meowing for about twenty minutes. Then, THEN, she has the AUDACITY to jump on my bed and go straight to sleep. Each day, on my way out the door to work, I leave behind my slumbering jerk of a cat.
If she wasn't so adorable, I'd send her to a farm where she could better fulfill her calling.
My sister made me curtains recently. They're pretty cute.
We've talked briefly about starting a business together, one where we make beautiful things and sell them. I would be the artsy side and she would craftsy side.
When I daydream about this, I imagine us living at our grandparents' farmhouse (which is for sale) in Dancyville, just east of Memphis. There we would run a kennel for rescued dogs and cats and we would make things and collect things all the live long day.
My brother-in-law would be there, too, of course, and he'd help with furniture building because he is good at things like that. My other sister would come in on the weekends to hug cats and play the clarinet for us. Juicy would have acres of cotton fields in which to roll around.
Our studio would hold a sewing machine, a screen printing area, easels, paint, papers, fabrics, etc.. We would make the storage room outside in between the house and the cotton fields into a wood shop. People would come stay with us, cook with us, clean with us, make things with us. They could take a dog for a walk each morning.
There is a room off the porch of the farmhouse where an old desk and wooden toys and a pad of paper and pencil are kept. I love that room. When I was younger, I could be by myself for hours and it was like minutes. Who knows what I thought about, dreamed about. I think it was training for all the time I'd spend being alone once I was older**, though I'm not as good at it now as I was back then.
Inside the house, in the living room, my grandmother displayed antique purses and make-up cases. I'd hold them, covet them. My grandfather, a former dairy man, collected all things cow-themed and all things dairy. I didn't know the extent of his collection until they put the house up for sale and began cleaning out rooms- bookcases full of cow shaped cream pitchers, butter molds, and milk bottles.
I share this love for antiques, old things beautifully crafted, with my grandparents, I'm sure I get that quality from them, but mixed in is a certain contemporary flair. I am a thrift store fiend (more on that later), so also with our studio-bed and breakfast-kennel, I would have a room stocked full of my findings- vintage clothes and shoes, tinted cut glassware, wooden boxes, mason jars, metal filing boxes, the list goes on.
I'd collect and all of us would make.
And we'd sell everything via the internet and make buckets of money to buy our rescued dogs leather collars, and to make lavish meals for guests, and to send each of us on trips to play with orphans in South America, Africa, and India. And I'd finally get to go to Japan.
A simple life is all I want.
...but I also want the city.
*Sally, from Peanuts in A Charlie Brown Christmas
**I don't mean this as much in a pathetic way, but more being factual about the life of an artist.
We've talked briefly about starting a business together, one where we make beautiful things and sell them. I would be the artsy side and she would craftsy side.
When I daydream about this, I imagine us living at our grandparents' farmhouse (which is for sale) in Dancyville, just east of Memphis. There we would run a kennel for rescued dogs and cats and we would make things and collect things all the live long day.
My brother-in-law would be there, too, of course, and he'd help with furniture building because he is good at things like that. My other sister would come in on the weekends to hug cats and play the clarinet for us. Juicy would have acres of cotton fields in which to roll around.
Our studio would hold a sewing machine, a screen printing area, easels, paint, papers, fabrics, etc.. We would make the storage room outside in between the house and the cotton fields into a wood shop. People would come stay with us, cook with us, clean with us, make things with us. They could take a dog for a walk each morning.
There is a room off the porch of the farmhouse where an old desk and wooden toys and a pad of paper and pencil are kept. I love that room. When I was younger, I could be by myself for hours and it was like minutes. Who knows what I thought about, dreamed about. I think it was training for all the time I'd spend being alone once I was older**, though I'm not as good at it now as I was back then.
Inside the house, in the living room, my grandmother displayed antique purses and make-up cases. I'd hold them, covet them. My grandfather, a former dairy man, collected all things cow-themed and all things dairy. I didn't know the extent of his collection until they put the house up for sale and began cleaning out rooms- bookcases full of cow shaped cream pitchers, butter molds, and milk bottles.
I share this love for antiques, old things beautifully crafted, with my grandparents, I'm sure I get that quality from them, but mixed in is a certain contemporary flair. I am a thrift store fiend (more on that later), so also with our studio-bed and breakfast-kennel, I would have a room stocked full of my findings- vintage clothes and shoes, tinted cut glassware, wooden boxes, mason jars, metal filing boxes, the list goes on.
I'd collect and all of us would make.
And we'd sell everything via the internet and make buckets of money to buy our rescued dogs leather collars, and to make lavish meals for guests, and to send each of us on trips to play with orphans in South America, Africa, and India. And I'd finally get to go to Japan.
A simple life is all I want.
...but I also want the city.
*Sally, from Peanuts in A Charlie Brown Christmas
**I don't mean this as much in a pathetic way, but more being factual about the life of an artist.