Almost a year ago, I was at my parents' house and found all my beads and hemp necklaces from high school. Making really bad jewelry used to be one of my favorite pastimes.

The beads sat on a shelf in my closet for months, but I pulled them down about a month ago and made earrings until 2 am one morning.

This came at a time when I read something that asked, "What enjoyable activity makes you lose track of time?" and I could name ZERO. Even art was not on my list, at least not at that very moment. I couldn't think of any activity that took me away from checking my phone every two seconds.

I felt so bad about this. Something had to be done. 

It took a few days for me to open up those bead boxes and connect again to that joy or getting lost in something. And, for me, to do any activity other than watch Netflix at that hour is nothing short of a miracle. 

Since then I have had visions of making more elaborate pieces, but I don't know how. 

***

Last night I had a dream about visiting an exhibition where an artist displayed different beautiful beads and gems on the walls of a rectangular white room with high ceilings. Dim lighting spot-lighted the beads. They were for sale and a lot had been picked through. I was late to come to the exhibition. It was actually about to end, but there were still plenty of beautiful ones left to choose from. My hands were soon full.

***

This morning, I did a two minute internet search and emailed someone about taking a jewelry-making class. 

I had to wake up early the other morning to run errands in West Knoxville, a very rare outing for me during that time of day. It was the first really cold morning of the season, which always makes me feel nervous about the months ahead.

I'm in my car, heat blasting, drinking coffee, and find myself behind a car whose back window is rolled down so their Husky could stick its head out.

Soft rolling fur. Pink tongue dangling. Purest Joy. 

I will carry this image with me over the next few months. 

The sooner you give in, the better.

I don't want to wake up in 15 years and regret not making enough artwork. I also don't want to be poor. 

Come out to the Retropolitan Craft Fair this Saturday and visit The Knox Heritage Salvage Shop's booth. My artwork will be among some of the items I'll be selling there. 

FYI, when you purchase my work through The Salvage Shop, you are benefitting Knox Heritage and my artistic endeavors simultaneously. Win, win!

Retropolitan Holiday Craft Fair

Saturday, November 21

9am - 5pm

at The Southern Railway Station

306 W Depot Ave

Knoxville 37917

Winter is coming, and I'm preparing. Here is my list of supplies:

1. The Office
2. Parks & Rec
3. Harry Potter (never read it)
4. Anne Lamott (never read her)
5. write more (this is a start)
6. my parents' cabin
7. hot chocolate & peppermint schnapps
8. hiking in the Smoky Mountains (always & 4evr)
9. running (this will be hard, it's all ready hard with the dark)
10. begin art projects for 2016 (i'm excited!)
11. my Instagram obsessions: designers, musicians... Justin Bieber (what?!?)
12. plan things- events, parties, trips (& letting go of other plans & planning)
13. give away and organize (this task goes on and on)
14. make spaces around me better (how do I finally act on this? what am I waiting on?)
15. Kill Bill (sudden urge to watch both of them)
16. Sleepless in Seattle (all ready watched When Harry Met Sally & You've Got Mail)
17. find a beautiful coat
18. ponder the allure of both pop culture & a simple life

In the spring (which was easily one of the busiest times of my life) I created some of my most favorite artwork to date.

One reason I liked this work so much was because, besides Sweet Treats, it was one of the only shows where I created all new pieces, something that has been hard for me to accomplish in the past several years. 

It was also work that felt very formulaic- once I decided what it was I wanted to do, I just had to do it. There wasn't a lot of guess work, like when I'm painting on canvas, so going into my studio, there wasn't the usual pacing around before working. I could jump right into it. 

It's overwhelming, but at this point in my life, when I make artwork, it feels like it's about everything I think about all at once. It's funny to realize this series references an idea I studied in elementary school- that of Propaganda.

I learned early on that food companies (were evil and) made their packaging in a way that would make me want to buy it and that this packaging would not necessarily reflect the quality of the food it encased. Since then, that information has been in the back of my brain when I shop and has cast a dark shadow over the joy of consumerism. (Ignorance truly is bliss.)

As you might assume, I'm an incredibly visual person. I also get easily overwhelmed. So put me in a grocery store, a vast overwhelming sea of options with confusing price points and differing measurements, and tell me aesthetics shouldn't sway me, and you have one miserable artist with ADD on your hands.

So my idea for the food packaging women was to transform grocery shopping into something grand! I would cast off my skepticism of package designers and focus solely on the most attractive foods. I turned Kroger into an art supply store, and it was lovely.

When I returned home, my roommate noticed a theme in my loot- vintage looking packaging and international food. (Also, I ate candy for weeks...)

So I separated the packaging from the food and took it to my studio. The supermodels I chose were all ready torn out of magazines and were determined based on their clothes, position, and how they would look on a white piece of paper. 

It took some time to find the most efficient order of steps. I would draw the "skin" of the model. Then I picked the packaging I felt most resonated with the original clothing, and after a series of meticulous tracing, cutting with an X-acto knife, and glueing, they were complete.

I loved the methodic nature of each. I loved the straighforward-ness of it, almost like I was using a pattern to sew (something I sadly may never learn to do). I like the clean look of them on the white paper, and I like how, even though precision was necessary, I could let my natural inclination NOT to be precise come through. None of them are lined up and matched perfectly. They stray from the original.

And so my alluring food packaging reflects the allure of glamorous clothing that I will never be able to afford. However, where world famous designers use exquisite fabrics and materials, I used materials anyone could buy. I would venture to say I chose the materials as meticulously as any designer. The gathering of materials also shined light on the otherwise gloomy chore of grocery shopping. 

I often feel opposing emotions toward the fashion industry, and while I'm not trying to make any bold statement either way, I feel like this was a way to express both.