polished stone technique

Demonstrated the polished stone technique for my dear, sweet
daughter and the eldest son's girlfriend. (Coincidentally, I
managed to dye my fingers the same color as the sweater I wore
to church Sunday morning. How coordinated of me!) Had just
learned the technique the night before at Rhonda's.

Anyway, they had about as much fun as a person could with it,
and produced a good 15 to 20 different pieces. Here are four
of my favorites--at least four that they let me keep . . .

preEaster happenings . . .

A very long time ago, I heard a person ratting off about how could
God be so great if he let his son take the fall for us? That person
obviously didn't have children, because if she had, she would have
known that any parent would consider dying for their child much easier than having to watch them suffer. But Easter ain't about the easy way out.

We've always had the Easter bunny doings NOT on Easter Sunday, and made it abundantly clear that this was play pretend--just to avoid childhood confusions such as, "Jesus was on the cross, and the bunny came and threw eggs at him, and then the soldiers came and hid the chocolate from the disciples . . ."

We had a stash of candy, but the week went in such a way that I
wasn't feeling the fun this year. And look, the childrens are 18
to 11, so really, wouldn't you think a basket of goodies would
be sufficient?

Ohhhhh, noooooo, Saturday evening came, and mutiny was
threatened if an egg hunt didn't happen! Go figure. And it was
something of a melee--they couldn't contain themselves to the dining
room, but kept sneaking a peek and snatching random, unsuspecting
eggs prior to the "go." (The weather was unpleasant, so we were
confined to the insides.) Then, there was no pretense of "I'm so
big, I don't really care about an egg hunt or candy." Every one of
them was in it with all their worth, except the girlfriend, who did
attempt to appear ladylike.

She's lucky she didn't get hurt.

and now, for something completely different . . .

I've been blog snooping for about two hours now, and found
this amazing, funny, quilt sewing, soap making, butter-churning
person, who is also hosting a giveaway. For a quilt. Not
just a quilt, but also two gift certificates for her store,
the Old Red Barn Co.

Who doesn't like quilts?

And don't even tell me you don't use soap.

art therapy

After being out of town all weekend, today I played on the computer
for a little, and checked Kris's blog. (We almost never call each other, we just blog at each other.) So I go see an art group/blog she has joined, called creative Therapy because it sounded intriguing--I always call whatever project is happening "art therapy," anyway, so it seemed like a me kind of thing.

Then I read the first catalyst, and felt thrown back in time.
(More like slammed back in time, really.)

Self medicated with Diet Dr. Pepper, Topsy's cinnamon popcorn,
and an hour of Judge Judy (yes, Judge Judy, what now??).

Cleaned out half my closet, finding my sketchbook from 1988.

This is three in a series of sketches of my younger brother's
hands as he lay in a coma dying.

The first catalyst concluded with:
"If your art makes you feel even a bit better at the end, you’ve won."

It worked then, and it works now.

"But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those
who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope.
For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will
bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus."
--1 Thessalonians 4:13

ode to Christo

We started the spring semester of
the homeschool co-op last week. Thankfully, joyfully, wonderfully,
I am teaching art again instead of history or science. Don't get me
wrong; I enjoy those as well, and so do the students, since we do
the hands-on, messy experiments and projects that no normal person
wants to do in their homes. It's just I'd really rather be teaching art.

Anyway, the teen class is drawing,so there's not much to show there
yet. Kind of combining techniques/ideas from Drawing on the Right
Side of the Brain and The Artist's Way.

In the other class, we study an artist,or style, or something from
history, and then emulate the art in some way. Last week
we learned about Christo--not one of them had even heard of him, so it was a nice introduction. There were some fantastic books from the library, with great pictures.

We wrapped people in different fabrics, to get an idea of how we
respond differently to different colors, fabrics, cording, etc.
Then we wrapped vases (yes, vases--work with me here!) with tissue
paper and glue. After last semester's Jackson Pollock experience with the teen class, it seemed prudent to do the spray painting
myself. At home. (Twelve 10 to 12 year old children with spray paint.
Not a pretty picture.) They did, however, get their choice of colors.
Here are their creations. The last is our own little ode to Christo--the
last gingerbread house of the season, complete with little gingerbread
man, contemplating the meaning of:
House--Wrapped.

at work

After the
algebra, biology, etc. is finished, we all pitch in with a glad heart
(usually) and pack and ship and take pictures and list auctions. Except the
girl child, who will ship in a pinch, but generally hides in the back and reads
while customers with monikers such as Wild Bill, Ivan the Terrible, No Finger Bill, Big Mike the First, Big Mike the Second, The Librarian, and a compendium of others "bust a pack," that is, open a pack of baseball cards. Seriously, they all have
nicknames. Except Kirby. I don't know how he escaped unscathed, but there it is.

I have just been informed that no permission was granted for the use
of the children's images. Lawsuits have been threatened. Or,
"we can settle this business now for ten bucks, Mom."

Ha.