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“Whatever you’re disappointed in can be upgraded by lowering your level of satisfaction.”

Without fail that is what I told my students who were forever complaining about the outcomes of their efforts in class. Most of the time it had to do with skills not yet mastered.

Improving one’s skill level takes time….lots of time….and effort that week-long workshops on personal expression did not have sufficient time to master once a commitment had been made. So, let’s say a student with no book making experience wanted to make a book to record visual ideas for a series of work. There is no time to teach them how to make a perfect book, but there is time to get them to understand that progressive sheets of paper held together by any means necessary, say, stitch, staples, glue, etc., is exactly what is “good enough” to get on with recording ideas.

As I age and watch my own skills succumb to accumulating limitations, I am happy to truly believe in the merits of lowering my level of satisfaction. My former skills in drawing are not going to suddenly reappear. If it is just a graphite pencil, there is always the eraser to help. But light pencil sketches to lay in unforgiving water colors is another matter. Remember the six-way opening book? First a section on wildflowers.

Then 72 pages of butterflies in the next section…

Then on to a section of just leaves.

And I keep going with this section…..now as of this morning up to page 44 of the 72 in this section…..and I am beginning to see a bit of decline in acuity.

But here is the good part. I love trying to get the leaves onto a page. And I always find something good about each one. Not least of which is that I did it! There is still one more narrow section to fill with 72 images of something and then the two full square sections (one of which has been committed to nests and eggs and probably feathers. I am determined to fill this entire book of pre-gessoed pages that began as a promise to myself to fill with Nature images.

The weather is hot and humid. Both those physical conditions paired with the total desperate insanity of leadership in our slowly tanking country keep me mostly hunkered down here at home in my sketchbooks and writing. I wrote about the weather and myself in this latest poem.

My View           S. Webster

 

It’s raining

Again.

Hard, heavy, wet.

Much like buckets

being emptied

just outside

my window.

Until the sun says,

“Stop!”

And forces the water

underground

or into rising steam.

Then

just as the sun

claims victory,

clouds conspire

to fill

their buckets.

Plans are

altered by

disappointment

to all but

those of us

inside,

looking out,

and trusting

nothing.

 

Friday night a friend took me to dinner and we started with double servings of Tom Collins cocktails. The dehydrated orange slices add nothing to the drink but a pleasing appearance. Cut wedge or peel would have done more for these very sweet drinks.

The view needed no improvements.

So that is it for now. I need to get on toward my step goal for the day and try to get a balance/confidence workout in before stopping for the day with a scotch and slow trip of memories.

Til later…..

I had bought several Lights of Sweden spots for over art works. Patrick helped me get them all hung in the best places. Then looking around, I asked him to help me move some art to different rooms. Mainly I wanted to get my stitched pieces into the studio where I could get closer to them.

A bit more shuffling pieces in the den by spotting the South African faces now hanging on each side of the window and moving the four egg tempera of Australian collected bits over near the door into the room, and there was the addition of the story of Malvern, Arkansas, told to me and recorded onto a cocktail napkin at a bar in Houston, Texas, that now hangs over my office desk. Lastly, over the couch/hide-a-bed hangs the Lost Peaces collage work now.

The result is that all of the egg tempera farm series and a couple more larger ones are now owned by Patrick and Marla. I promised no more moving artwork now that all are where I can see them better.

The very first thing he did was hang my new punching bag. I love this and manage to give it a good whack whenever I get in or out of my car. Plus the times when the garage is cooler and he and I can go a few rounds.

After countless more small jobs around the house and a small party to meet up with a couple of neighbors, we ordered take out from our favorite local restaurant. Oyster shooters, crab cakes, soups, popovers, scallops, potatoes, asparagus, and wine.

Then Patrick was off home on Saturday and I went to the Festival on the Square to practice being social and buying two pieces of Mexican street corn and some books by local writers.

I need to get back to my own writing but the heat and humidity slows my brain. So, with basket makers in Tasmania gathering over the weekend, I got busy drawing in The Gathering Book. I wanted to draw my Buddha bamboo for the book. Did you know that the only Buddha bamboo I could find on Google has squatted bulges, one on top of the other? Absolutely none like what Lee and I brought home from Japan in 1998. Ours alternates the bulges and I love the shape and feel of it!

Then a bit more “avoiding writing time” to work on drawing a nest a neighbor gave me. I am now starting the first of the two larger books in the six-way sketchbook.

After working an entire afternoon on this nest, I think I will go back to water colors. But this is okay for the introduction page. I am expecting myself to be much better at drawing and painting. Not as easy as it once was…before being eighty-one!

Later this week I am meeting an old friend for lunch to catch up on the lives we live now.

This morning I beat up the bag for a while and went through all my balance and breathing exercises.  Now I need to get the last 2,000 steps in before having a bit of libation.

Til later….

Different neighbor set off fireworks this year. And in the morning tidy hay bales fill the field.

Patrick arrived yesterday in time to go to wine tasting. A very fun evening of good company and some very nice wines that needed to be ordered for holiday consumption.

This morning we got busy on his list of almost ten things to do around here…adjust refrigerator doors, re-pound nails in the door of antique Chinese cabinet, adjust the bidet I installed by 1/2″ (it makes a difference!), sharpen all knives, replace nozzle on kitchen faucet, remove sticker from toilet in guest bathroom, replace furnace/AC filter in ceiling, check ceiling vents to make sure they were open, and most important of all was hang the punching bag he brought down for me. Here it is in place in the garage…

And with accessory he brought down to help me punch harder and longer….

This little juvenile bluebird showed up for a visit.

And this got my attention after my PT rearranged the cushions on the bench by the front door.

Seems you can herd cats by carrying a multi-tipped whip and putting a fish on your head.

It is very hot and humid here so we are staying indoors and having salad for dinner. First I have a PT session, then a drink before dinner. The last thing on the list is hanging artwork spot lights. We have to wait for it to be dark first. Tomorrow we are going to rearrange some artwork and package some up for him to take back home.

Tomorrow just a few friends are coming over to meet Patrick, talk about wood turning and Harley Davidson motorcycles. An interesting evening for sure.

That is about it for now. My 7,000 step goal is close and should be met by the time I dance around getting punches in.

Til later…

A friend sent me this picture when I was at the No Kings Rally.  After the election last November I claimed to not want to be a flag-waving American. But with the celebrations of the Fourth of July and our Independence/Freedom from being herded, what do I find tied to my mailbox yesterday? Some stars and stripes. Stars and stripes on the day our pitiful representation in Washington vote to deny benefits to those in need and give more money to the coffers of those who can afford to rent Venice, Italy for three days. No, this woman does not want to cheer the country on. It takes a pride I no longer have. A trust that no longer exists. And whose mailbox is it anyway? I am pretty sure it is mine! If I want to hang something from it, it will be my choice.

Years ago I went to visit a relative who lives in a subdivision where they had to hang seasonal flags off their mailboxes. I asked what would happen if someone simply said they were not going to do it. They answered that no one knew because no one ever dared not to.  Can you imagine!

At my age I want to hang on to the independence I have left.

Back in my studio, I am working on another short story. And doing more small watercolor drawings of leaves…herbs mostly.

Later today my PT comes by to put me through the paces of balance and some boxing. I look forward to it. I will be well over my step goal for the day by the time we do three three-minute spars around the house. I hit with the correct punch as he calls out the assigned number for it while shuffling forward, backward and in circles. Feet keep moving, fists keep flying and I keep breathing and staying upright. It makes me feel good all over!

Patrick arrives next week to put the boxing bag up in the garage and check on what else I can use a hand with. For sure some dinners out and nice cocktails at home. He is a fun drinking companion. Maybe we will get a take out of oyster shooters and popovers from our favorite restaurant.

That is about it for now.

Til later….