This & That

This morning, twenty to seven, there was a huge crack of thunder which woke me up, and somehow the first thing my mind started thinking about was Neil Sedaka’s “Laughter in the Rain.  Chris and I sometimes joke about Neil Sedaka/ Paul Anka because in our minds, they are the same person (a.k.a. Neil Sedanka).  But I confess a little affection for “Laughter in the Rain” because it is sweet, and with all this rain we’re having lately, it seems appropriate, especially because everyone else is so cranky that it keeps raining, and Chris and I just love it.  We talk about moving to Oregon where it rains 200+ days a year, but I could never live that far away from my Mom.

Today I have great plans of doing some painting.  The one problem with the rain is that since the air is so dampy, it may make the paint dry unevenly, and with acrylics, that’s a critical issue because the last thing I want to do is to use some paint that’s started to turn plastic before I need it to–suddenly, paint you think is smooth and blendable on the canvas has an unexpected, unwanted rubbery texture that messes things up.  The solution to that, though, is to put less paint on on my palette, so that if it winds up being a while before I think to use a specific color, and it’s already started to turn plasticy, it won’t be a big waste.

Speaking of paintings, I’ve got several that I need to glaze, but the weather has just not been cooperating for the last several weeks–you can’t spray gloss on pictures if the air is humid, either–there is a chance the gloss will cloud or dry unevenly/ bubble.  What we need are several bright, clear, low-humidity days.  (Although, I’d rather it rain; there’s no hurry to glaze.)

I’ll write more later on after I’ve accomplished something. 😉

Got Poem? Not Really

You know that old saw that the path to Hell is paved with good intentions?  That’s actually a mistake.  There is no path to Hell, only a lot of detours and wrong turns.  Which is what I was doing today.

I painted today.  Badly, but I painted.  I’m rusty.  On one 5″x5″ tile that I painted, I didn’t like what happened with the blue, so I caked on pthalo blue over it, and then I sort of went crazy and put more and more paint on it and what it turned into is weird.  Not like the stuff I used to paint at all, which was deliberate and meticulous strokes.  This was like that art that you see in coffee houses that’s really bad and not art, and yet you like it anyway.  (Or not.)  Another tile I painted a sort of gloppy red cat–again way more paint than I needed.

Chris said, “You use a lot of texture in your painting, I’ve noticed.”

Translated that means, “What the hell?”

Now they have to dry since they both have so much paint on them.  But they’re not for me.  Back in March, I did this thing on Facebook where I promised the first 5 people to respond to my Note would get something handmade by me, with the caveat that they would have to wait until after our wedding.  Now, I’m delivering the goods.

When these 2 tiles dry, I’ll see if I can’t take a picture of them and post them here for you to see.  (Of course, you might regret that.)  Maybe next weekend, I can work on the others.

All of this is by way of saying, I didn’t get any poetry done.  But I do consider the day successful, despite the detours, because I accomplished:

  1. 5 loads of laundry
  2. 2 “paintings”
  3. 1 Target run, for cat-related items, including Fancy Feast and litter.
  4. 3 articles in Poets & Writers read

Ok, and on a completely random note, 2 seconds ago the cats were just acting weird, and all of the sudden there was what looked to be a black thing on the floor.  I thought it was a roach (eww!!!), but then it HOPPED!  It was a little frog!  In our house!  So Chris tried to get it but it hopped into the kitchen.  And then it tried climbling up the cupboard!  And then Chris caught it and put it outside.

How in the hell did a little frog get in our 2nd floor apartment??????? 

Now Jenny is looking around for the frog.  I think she’s pissed she couldn’t eat it.

I’m sorry, from now on, my house is a frog-free zone.  I can’t be having little frogs hanging out.  That’s just not sanitary.

But maybe I could write a little frog poem.