Kiddie Collage 101

Yesterday Mr. Golden Curls came up to me and said "Mamma, is it ok if we do some scrapbooking in my Thomas scrapbook." I was so excited before I remembered I've already packed all that up. That seems to happen about a million times a day, the boys asking for something and me having to tell them it's packed up and ready to go to our theoretical house in Hot Springs. "How about we make a collage instead, it's kindof like scrapbooking without the pictures." I can feel collage artists everywhere cringing at this definition but it's the best I could come up with and figured it'd do for a 4 year old. "Yeah! Can it be a Thomas collage!" "I'm sure I can dig up something Thomas-esque for you collage."

Note to self: Choose the box marked WASHABLE!

I made the first attempt at helping Mr. Golden Curls write his name, you know, without my holding his hand and making him write it. He did a great job for his first try but it was a bit painstaking, he was not at all thrilled that I was making him try it on his own. "I'll mess it up! I can't make it look right!" All this before he's put marker to paper. Poor little perfectionist first born!

I loved Lil' Spitfires collage. It was his first try with scissors, did the glue by himself and he actually managed to not destroy anything! He was very meticulous too, every piece of paper got it's own Disney sticker, only one each (well, until the very end when the Happy Feet stickers came out) and he was so deliberate with his little markings. Lil' Spitfire's mellowing in his old age.

The Bohemian Life That Wouldn't Die

Well, that light at the end of the tunnel that I wrote about a few posts back has gone out. Or maybe in my fledgling optimism I should say it just wasn't our light. Either way, a survey was done to show the bank that noooo this house is not on a flood plain. Instead what it said to the bank is yes it's at a higher level than we thought but not high enough to bring it out of the flood plain and we'll still require flood insurance at an obnoxious amount monthly even though the house has never flooded. So we're out. We were supposed to be moving in under the same roof this weekend but the Bohemian must remain bohemian with his increasing number of roach buddies and I must truck it along in my temporary single mom-dom that's feeling less and less temporary as we cross four months of living apart. I know there are plenty of people in this world that have it so much worse than I do, that I should be rejoicing in my wonderous life but sometimes knowing that just doesn't seem to make it easier.

Thank You Bob!

“We don’t make mistakes here, we just have happy accidents.

We want happy, happy paintings.

If you want sad things, watch the news.

Everything is possible here. This is your little universe.”

BOB ROSS (1942-1995)

I've always been mesmerized by painters like Bob Ross. I credit Bob for encouraging me to be an artist from the time I was a little girl. He's the reason I love oils. In college I carried his picture in my wallet, only partly because I thought it good nerdy fun.

I've always appreciated watching people who are really good at what they do. I once watched a professional window washer in awe, tossing rags through the air with ease, flipping the squeegee with the grace of a good baton twirler. Last week I was watching PBS and One Stroke Painting by Donna Duberry was on. Watching these painters is amazing to me, the way one stroke creates a flower complete with highlights and shading. But Bob Ross was the master of the couch painting painters. Who couldn't love his soothing voice, oozing with persistent optimism, talking about populating his painted world with "happy little trees". He taught me to look with my artist's eye at everything around me. To be brave with my art. Go ahead and paint a giant black rock in the foreground of a pastel sunset and make it work. Thank you for your inspiration Bob!

Choose Your Own Adventure

When I was a kid I loved reading books in the Choose Your Own Adventure series. They were interactive books, the pre-internet, the wireless video game. You'd read along in these books and in certain parts of the stories you could make a choice "To choose to take the magic diamond turn to page 136, to choose to use your secret potion turn to page 130". The page you chose would lead you to other choices and the culmination of the choices you made would lead you to a certain conclusion to the story. I always wanted to keep track of my choices so I could be sure and read the book with every possible combination of choices fulfilled but I was too lazy to keep track.

The internet is my new Choose Your Own Adventure and I have just as much trouble putting it down these days as I did those books when I was a kid. There's just so much to look at, so much to learn, so many links leading you to a different destination and the time keeps sneaking past, I go to bed way too late, my butt gets numb, my eyes get all wonky but I just can't tear myself away. Maybe the next click will show me something wonderful, maybe the next thread will teach me something important. I just don't want to miss something.

As a side note, I did an etsy search to see if there were any crafts made from my beloved series and apparently in the craft world "Choose Your Own Adventure" is commonly used to mean you get to choose color of the object. I find that disappointing. I guess I was hoping for something more interesting and intriguing, like the books.

Trying On Optimism

I'm painfully aware that the blog I started to be mostly business, crafting, art and etsy with a smidge of personal life is now majority personal with a smidge of the aforementioned. I've maintained a bit of etsy, since I'm still lurking there, but crafting and business have fallen by the wayside. Creating anything has become a casualty of my current temporarily single, stay at home mom in flux situation. It's a little disappointing. I started out gungho, working hard, creating every moment I had, learning about business and had some pretty good sales happening for being a beginner. That was before we learned, only a few short months after I opened shop, we'd be relocating. Now my momentum has been halted and I'm a little concerned I won't be able to get the fire back even when we are moved and settled. Having a dedicated studio/office will probably be a pretty good kick start though!

And about the house, I'm warming up to it and even getting to appreciate it a bit. It's not so bad, pretty cute actually and not so much horribly outdated as it is a clean slate for me to have fun with. We're still waiting to see how it'll all pan out. Financing is tight but I'm fighting my nature and going optimist. I'm slowly beginning to pack, dust, sort and realizing how much there is in our house that I have overlooked on a daily basis but is so blaringly junky, dusty, dirty now that I'm digging in. Whatever happens it'll work the way it's meant to and hopefully I can just take it all as it comes, I'm warming up my zen attitude.

The Bohemian Life Part V

"I'll be so glad to get away from these roaches." The Bohemian says calmly as he bangs his big black boot into the corner of the room.

There's a light at the end of that tunnel. It's not the built in the 30's, all hardwood floors, yard the size of two, secret door to the giant attic light that I was hoping for but it'll do. It's a responsible, outdated interior complete with mauve sinks, 60's ranch in a tidy well manicured probably solely inhabited by old people neighborhood, with better resale potential light. It'll do. It'll get our family living under one roof. I've just dreamed of living in an old house and I thought this time it was actually going to happen. I'll need a little time to morn the death of my dream.

Good bye bohemians...

...hello suburbanites

Our light at the end of the tunnel. Assuming all continues to go well, we close June 1st.

I wish the comment about the mauve sink was for exagerated story telling purposes only but it is in fact our new bathroom. Along with matching mauve toilet and tile.

We can still get a cup 'o joe and a melt-in-your-mouth pancake at The Pancake Shop but it'll never be the same as popping out the apartment door and strolling up the street in the cool of the morning to get there.

Arrrr, A Happy Birthday To Ya'

Mr Golden Curls turns four today. I can't believe it, every year I can't believe it! Yesterday we had his party. He requested a pirate party, which thrilled me, with the stipulation that it was to be "happy pirates, not scary pirates." Yesterday morning he sprung awake and yelled from the bedroom "Is it my birthday today?" "yes!" "YEAAAAA!" He loved his day so much which, in my book, makes it a rousing success.

Everyone knows what he likes and he absolutely loved all of his gifts. He was so excited to open them that he plowed through them in a whirl wind of tissue paper and gift bags and was done in about 5 minutes! Our gift to him was a Kidizoom digital camera (which is awesome by the way). As soon as he saw the flame covered case he knew what it was, his eyes bugged out and he had the most wonderfully excited smile on his face. He immediately started snapping blurry pictures of people with their heads cut off!

Pappa tried to help Mr. Golden Curls compose a picture of his favorite person, and the subject he wanted to photograph first, his little brother!