Charlotte Bronte is Non-Plussed and other Events

Oh man.

Being an artist is exhausting.  The good exhausting.  The kind where all you do is think about the next thing you're going to do, and plan how to do it and what marvellous things will happen because of it.

It's a little like a massive crush, only it's different.  It's a little like being a stalker, but it's different.

What I think I look like when 
I try to make new friends.

It's kinda like meeting Jennifer Lawrence, and then finding out she is moving in two houses down from you, and you're quite certain you'd be BFFs if only you could have a meaningful conversation, only every time you try to talk you sound like a super weird stalker-crush-girl, instead of sounding like Adele or like, Beyonce.

Yep.  Story of my life.

How I really look when 
I meet new friends.

Anyway, I've been spending all sorts of time at the studio.

Friend:  Hey! How's the Art-thing working out?
Me:  It's amazing!  I love it.
Friend:  How often do you get to the studio?
Me:  Like, every day.
Friend:  Wow! That's a LOT!
Me: Well, I believe many people work 5 days a week?

But guess what?   I'm excited to get to the studio every day.  I did some terrible art, and I kept it! I didn't beat myself up for making something "bad" because I am not living for the 15 minutes I can do art between the 45 other things I'd rather NOT be doing.

I put it up even, because you have to do bad art before you do good art.  So it's inspiration to see how I'm coming along. Plus, it takes much longer to make shitty art than it does to make good art, so I figure it should be up on display just because it took so dang long to finish.

Why? Oh, because you take a perfectly good piece, destroy it to the point that it could be salvaged, then do something really dumb and make it worse, then leave it alone for a few days.  And then try to fix it by doing something stupider, and voila: bad, long-taking art.  It's much simpler to just do it right the first time, but there's no growth in that.

I've been listening to TONS of music lately because ... well, because I can.

There are two songs that, since January, have been coming on at least thrice a week, each.  "I Can See Clearly Now" (Cliff), and "Sittin' on the Dock of The Bay" (Redding).  At restaurants, in the car, in the grocery store, at the coffee place, in friends' cars, in other countries, at public events... those two songs are haunting me and I think it's because one is about being in the middle of stagnancy (Dock of the Bay, I'm looking at you!) and then letting go of toxic shit, and being able to see the world differently as a result.

It's bizarre.  I don't even listen to "oldies" stations-- but these songs have even been on our public (talk) radio station.

And then, I turned on the CBC to hear a discussion panel on the Bronte sisters.

PS, I despise the Brontes. When I had to read Jane Eyre in my Lit 101 class in Uni, I wrote essayS on how Jane Eyre is an anti-feminist text wrapped in a "progressive for its time" package, and how women today should never read it lest they be swayed into submission by an idea of Love that is superficial at best.  Mr. Rochester, you smug bastard, you only fall in love with plain Jane AFTER you are blinded and no longer have to deal with her dull looks.  Oh, and Jane eats that shit UP.  BAH!

Even Charlotte Bronte is disgusted 
by the Universe's pedantry.

And just as I was about to change it, the speaker said "Oh well, as happens when you have a grand plan that you don't really want to do; it fails and now you can do what you really wanted to do.  For the Bronte sisters, their idea of being teachers was just because they yearned for the independence writing would ultimately give them... (and I kinda stopped listening because SHEESH!)"

Universe, it was cool when you were sending me messages through song.  It is ironic and uncalled for to join forces with the stupid Bronte sisters to ensure I get it.

I spend days at the studio, working.  I spend my weekends with my kids and hubby.  I spend my nights doing other meaningful work, like prepping for my upcoming seminar I was invited to teach, on self-kindness.  I'm putting final touches on some pieces for my very first art show.  Exciting times.

Annnnd, I am also found looking online for Great Dane (or other giant dog) breeders that want me to have a studio dog.
 (Don't tell Husband, ok? He gets a little crazy when I bring it up.)

To make sure I run into this song even more often, here's a link to "I Can See Clearly Now" by Jimmy Cliff.

I took the kids to their respective camps this week (it's March Break here) and "I Can See Clearly Now" was playing when I walked into the art camp for my son.

Like, really?

When he finished his week of art we had an interesting conversation.

Kiddo #2:  Mom, Katherine says I'm an artist.  Is that true?
Me:  Of course it is!
Kiddo #2:  Well, but I thought I was a hockey player.
Me:  Of course you are!
Kiddo #2:  So I can be an artist and a hockey player?
Me:  Yep.  Just like I can be an artist and a teacher and ... really good at getting lost.
Kiddo #2:  Oooh, you're REALLY good at getting lost.  What am I really good at?
Me:  Math.  You're really great at math.
Kiddo #2:  I know, but I mean, something I'm not supposed to be good at, like how you're good at getting lost.
Me:  You're good at unflinching honesty.
Kiddo#2:  Oh yeah. And toots.  I'm really good at toots.

I've got to change that kid's diet.