D Selby Designs

Snow’s Here. So’s The Red Queen.

School was called off yesterday, probably because it’s taken so long for winter to finally arrive in Kentucky. The amount of snow on the hill behind our house was essentially pitiful, but the neighborhood kids were not to be denied. I stood in the window and laughed at them as they sledded. They probably think I’m the old hag ready to shake her fist and say, “You darned kids get out of my yard,” when it’s just the opposite.

Our son dropped in for a free meal last night, and it confirmed my suspicion that the Red Queen (Winter 2011, www.spoolmag.com) amongst us is my husband: “Off with your boots, Zach!”

Working today on a small painting of a white house through an arch of morning glories. Perhaps I’ll add a zombie to the foreground to make it look less chocolate-boxy.

Playing with Internet Rather Than Painting

Who’s heard of Zazzle? I put Apple Tea on a mouse pad (does anyone still use mouse pads?) and am fritzing around the internet because I jammed my middle finger yesterday. (Insert your own middle finger jokes, here.) Bending my hand to accommodate paint brushes is painful.

Anyone want Box of Chocolates on a Zazzle product?

http://rlv.zcache.com/apple_tea_mousepad-p144242459576828702yn_325.jpg

Today is Zach’s 30th, so we enjoyed a nice dinner at Copper River last night, and then for a special birthday treat, he kept an eye on his gran while we went to see War Horse. Take a handy with you.

Morning Has Broken

Still working on early morning portrait of Carey, and was coming along nicely until I lost it last night with my demented mother. Takes one to know one?

She came into the studio at 5:55 and asked, in a  snippy tone, just how late did I think I was going to stay up? She laughed when I told her what time it was, then dropped into her chair. It was just dark, all the studio lights were on, and all the window blinds were up. While I was intently concentrating on the large shadow area on the canvas, she drilled into my head, repeatedly and at length, how a woman shouldn’t be in a lit room with all the blinds up, how she wished she knew how to close the blinds, how some man could break in and really do some harm, how could I stand to work with it so dark out and anyone can see in, yada, yadda, yaddda. Yep. I lost it. And lost the right color for the shadow. Painted the *&%@ thing, anyway, and now must wait a couple of days and glaze it.

I am enjoying working with acrylics, which I never thought I’d say. Golden has it right. This is a piece I’d like to send to the Berea Artisan Center for a show called “About Face” and there’s no time for oils. When Mom came into the studio an hour ago, I greeted her with, “Please don’t talk to me while I’m painting.” She was quiet for 20 minutes, so I suppose my hissy fit last night made an impression–as she usually can’t hold a thought for more than a minute. I am an awful person. I felt guilty and fixed her and Greg lunch. I grizzled to him, “If I could just be alone, I could paint!” He asked if I’d like for him to leave, and take her on a drive (he was joking), and I said, “Yeah, every day at 8. See you back here at 6.” He thought I was joking.

I Once Killed a Man, But Judge, He Needed Killin’

Newest Mom-ism: she got up the other night and asked my help to find another gown, because the one she was wearing brought back too many bad memories. She was wearing it when she killed somebody.

Greg now locks our bedroom door at night.

Portrait of Carey coming along, but even acrylics need curing time. Working on a rough linen piece I started long ago as a lark, and now I’m kind of liking it, so the choice of canvas was a poor one. Extra texture. And then some. Eleven by thirteen inches of a cow I met in the late seventies in Fleming County, KY.

I warned you. Have slides, will paint.

Some Days You Get The Bear

And some days, you just cover your head and hope the bear goes away.

This is my mother, in my studio yesterday evening (I raised the levels so you can see her; it was quite gloomy) when I went in to tell her dinner was ready. I had to take a picture, for I had no words. She couldn’t explain it, either.

I’ve started a portrait in acrylics of Carey (below, in yesterday’s post for some reason; don’t question WordPress programmers) from one morning when she stumbled into the studio, stared at the morning light, growled, and went back to bed. I got one shot of her, maybe two, before she realized that the camera was present.

She would have preferred a blanket over her head, too.

Taking Stock . . . Photos

Being art majors and owners of 35 mm cameras, Greg and I took LOTS of photos in our first decade together. We’ve moved them along with the rest of our household 9 times. Once across the ocean. But have we looked at them? Rarely. I just figured out how to scan slides, and used my 40% off coupon at Hobby Lobby for a light table. Yep. I had Greg haul the big Global Silverhawk moving box full of slides into my studio. Probably won’t live long enough to look at them all.

I have come to a couple of conclusions: we weren’t nearly as talented in photography as we thought we were. Or, I wasn’t. And the circular file is okay for most of them–though Greg is very nervous that I’m throwing away anything–as has been the case for 40 years. And lastly, I was cuter than I thought I was.

I wish I could have gone back in time and been my own mentor, because about 99.5% of the stuff I worried about was truly no big deal. Yes, kids ARE a big deal, and that’s what I worried about the most (whether or not to have them), and they have turned out to be fine, dandy, and a good life choice. Career was another, and looking back I’m not sure I would change anything. Except maybe the shoulder pads. And my lack of discipline in preparing for retirement.

John Lennon was right: life is what happens while you are making other plans. I am much: much older, much fatter, and much grateful for both the hills and the valleys.

The photo here is the result of eating 800 calories a day for months in preparation for a Panama City Spring Break from teaching.  And I STILL wore a size 14! Pass the pasta.

Joyous Celebration, followed by Carbs Lethargy

The sun is setting on the houses behind us in a wash of golden orange, as a colorful ending to this Christmas Day. It is so fortunate that the mega-builder who put in the development over the hill used a most neutral taupe in the siding, so that whatever the sun is doing in the evening, a mirrored image reflects into my studio from the west-facing sides of the homes. And when it’s snowing, they disappear in the neutral light. Could be so much worse, since it’s only for about 4 months a year. Greenery fills in the rest of the time. I love my studio, even when I’m just gold bricking.

It was a lovely, lovely day for the Selbys. At the moment, my mother is sitting in the corner of my studio that I equipped for her with a comfy chair, a reading lamp, and a table for her cashews and cups of tea. There is a new bird-watching station outside the window, since our dear Mocha has passed on, and Mom finds the cardinals endlessly entertaining. Zach is asleep in ‘my’ chair in the den (he remains the deepest sleeper I’ve yet to meet) and Greg is doing manly stuff in the garage. I offered to take the gift boxes (remains of the morning) up to the attic, knowing that Greg would quickly refuse. I’ve slipped off those rafters twice, and the resulting holes in our little rambler’s ceiling remain un-plastered. The one in the garage (pre-Carey’s wedding: looking for ribbon) is just like it was immediately after my leg came crashing through. The one leading into Greg’s office (trying to find some of the Christmas ornaments last year when Greg was in a wheelchair) is covered with a piece of 400 lb. white Arches watercolor paper and clear push pins. I shouldn’t have told you. It’s not that noticeable, and now you’ll look for it.

I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas Sunday, and that friends and family are healthy. We got home from the Christmas Eve service last night five minutes before the timer went off, alerting us to the ‘done-ness’ of the roast. Several tasty side dishes and a from-scratch German Chocolate Cake put us in the ozone and we all napped and waked at different stages of  the Christmas Story marathon. I felt quite justified in having everyone fend for themselves where breakfast was concerned this morning.  Carey and Griff have moved on to two other family dinners, and will head back to Atlanta tomorrow. Zach said earlier that he may go with them, since he has a two-week holiday from UK work. That means I’ll have no excuse to put off getting butt-in-gear. SO: watch this space!

It WILL Rain. . .

When I ran wild on Bob-o-Link Drive as a wild child with my Gang of Five, we found a dead bird in a yard. Saddened, we dug a grave and someone sneaked out a shoe box and a box of New Blue Cheer laundry detergent so that I could draw a couple of flowers on the grave. Even at that very young age, I knew that rain would soon melt the flowers into the ground, but it was a temporary lift for my friends.

Speaking of, and to, friends: the rain always comes. Lift up your hand and your Heavenly Father will lead. I know for a fact that God lives at the end of my rope. Merry Christmas.

Is it Chocolate or Oil Paint on My Wrist?

Couldn’t tell, so I licked it. Chocolate. Breakfast of Champions.

Greg is in Ohio taking his dad to the doctor, so I got lots of painting done yesterday. I’d post the results but our camera is in the car, and it’s too cold to venture out. I’m working on a series I’m calling “Small Plates”. Yesterday, I worked on an 11 x 14 composition of a pear half on a pink plate and another 11 x 14 of a peach half on a mostly white plate.

I am very sad to retire Spool, but Greg was so miserable. Rare is the individual who enjoys selling advertising, especially in this economy. We were SO blessed to have the experience, and do so without losing money. Next week holds the tedious task of refunding remaining subscription funds. There may those who would take a ‘tough luck’ position, but I’m not inhabiting that place. I so appreciate the support we had from both advertisers and subscribers.

So: it’s back to painting, and back to doing my bit for the KY Guild. Greg had an interview this week and is very excited to get back to work, and I am very excited that he has recovered from his near-death experience.

I hope that all of you Americans had a great Thanksgiving holiday, and that everyone enjoys the Christmas season. Our decorations are up, and seem so much more precious since we weren’t able to decorate last year. The image here was taken by good friend Jeff Rogers while he and Missy joined us for lasagna last week.

Rain! YEEESSSSS!!!!

That’s it. Rain. Sweet relief.