Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Sentence of The Month: August
It's been a while since I last had a Sentence of The Month post.
Well, time flies. Plus, some sentences have to be censored, this not being an anonymous blog.
Anyway.
I am still nursing my Plantar Fasciitis, rolling my foot on a frozen water bottle (Ouch!), nibbling on anti inflammatory pills, sleeping with a splint, wearing sandals at home (Naot sandals, as the good doctor said, are the best!), putting on those butt-ugly elastic bandages whenever I leave the house (yes, with closed shoes, yes, in the heat of August). never felt so elegant in my life... But, y'know, it's actually working!
Anyhow.
The JohnnyB and I were driving back from San Francisco on Saturday (we went up there for the Women Impressionists exhibit at the Legion of Honor Museum, which we saw at a record time of less than 20 minutes due to the JohnnyB's deep interest in art... but that's another story). After a visit to the art store and a wonderful dinner at one of our very favorite restaurants (an Ethiopian heaven that has some amazing dishes, with Kitfo being our ultimate #1 choice), we were heading back home.
I was examining with sheer disgust my excess weight that seems to have accumulated since we came back from our British Columbia trip.
"We really need to exercise more", I said to The JohnnyB.
"Yup", he agreed.
"And we need to eat healthier", I added.
"Yup", he elaborated.
"And cook more at home", I pondered.
"Yup", he surprised me yet again.
"And have more veggies", I promised, awaiting the next 'Yup' in the series.
"And more shopping", he said.
???
"More shopping", he explained to the slow-witted, "You don't do enough shopping. You really should shop more".
!!!
Ah - the dream of every material girl: a husband who wants her to shop more. Sorry, y'all gals, he is taken!
Quick to realize his fatal slip of the tongue as he saw the glint in my eyes, the joy in my face and my blissful smile, The JohnnyB turned greenish-white and shrieked, "No... I meant grocery shopping.... No..... Nooooooooooo!!!".
But it was too late.
He wants me to shop more, and being the obedient wife that I am, so I shall.
Anything to make you happy, The JohnnyB!
Anything.
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Labels: It's All About Me, People, Sentence of The Month, Wonders of The JohnnyB, Wow
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Can You Say Plantar Fasciitis?
OUCH!For the last couple of months, I've been limping through life. It started while my sister was here (and she told me "I do hope this is not a spur!"), and went on through our vacation in British Columbia. In fact, it probably got worse during that trip, as we walked a lot, and I mean A LOT!
Like a good tough Israeli, I ignored it, waiting for it to get better with time. Some days it was better, some days I would throttle a scream when I just put my foot on the floor as I got out of bed (which is when it hurt the most).
Until 10 days ago, when The JohnnyB and I took a walk to the Saturday farmers market. The walk was fine, I was fine, the farmers were fine - but when we got back home, all I could do was sit on a chair and moan. Evening came, and I started to seriously contemplate going to the ER, as it hurt so much.
I didn't go for that extreme measure, but instead went for plan B: googling it. I googled "heel pain", and got acquainted with Dame Plantar Fascitiis. Emails to some friends made the diagnosis even more reliable, as they all started to recall when they/relative/acquaintance had it. A series of recommended podiatrists has followed, and I chose one that was highly recommended on Yelp (and also covered by our insurance). Who'd have thunk Yelp is not just for restaurants?
I went to his clinic today.
An inviting sign on the door said:
PODIATRIST
LIMP IN
LIMP IN
That made me instantly like the guy, before even meeting him. Add to that the fact that his exam chair is purple, and that he actually cares about the parts above the foot (namely the patient, who is aching and sometimes scared), I knew I came to the right place, feeling that my foot and I were in good hands.
A series of examinations, X-ray included, proved the popular diagnosis: yup, Plantar Fasciitis, the one and only. "66% of those who come to me have this trouble", he claimed cheerfully while wrapping an elastic band around my feet.
"Oh, and I thought I was special", I lamented.
"But you ARE special", he assured me, "you just have a common problem".
Smooth, too.
We then had a bit of a fall-out in our relationship, as I was accused of having a high arched foot, a rigid ankle and an inflexible calf muscle.
How offending!
me?
rigid and inflexible???
ME????
But he soon proceeded to explain that the combination causes a lot of stress on the heel, and - in the lack of an appropriate shock absorption - results in an inflammation. Needless to say, the Tiger Balm that The JohnnyB (with all the good intentions in the world) has lovingly applied to my sore heel last Saturday did not quite help, as it heated the place. And, well, when inflammation is in place, um, it kinda needs icing, y'know...
After 30 minutes of thorough explanations, treatment forecast and a lot of optimistic reassurance, I got off the purple chair, limped out with a bag full of goodies: an anti-inflammatory prescribed drug. elastic bands on my feet, which are to be worn with closed supportive shoes (it's August, for god's sake!!!), a night splint to torture my foot at night, exercises with a frozen bottle to torture it even further, a verdict to give up walking barefoot even at home, and a follow-up appointment in 10 days.Luckily, this doctor believes in trying traditional therapy first, rather than jumping straight into steroid injection or taking the scalpel into his surgeon hand.
So, 10 days with no bare feet, no sandals outside, sleeping with a Herr Splint and playin' with frozen bottles.
I'm not sure I can handle that amount of fun. But hey, with all that foot binding, I may qualify to wear those lotus slippers.
Labels: Damn Technology, It's All About Me, Ouch
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Art Pact #64
(Also published on "Unchain My Art")
Still not feeling up to it, still keeping at those little bozzettos.
I'm slacking from the one-bozzetto-a-day promise I made to myself, but hey - tough. Happens. When the spirit is low, the energy is not always available.
Plus, I'm now trying to decide on three pieces to enter to the upcoming show at one of the art organizations I belong to, the one whose last year's annual show bestowed two awards upon me. Yeah, I know it's silly to expect a recurring success, but I am only human...
So, decisions, decisions... it's a juried show, and we can each submit up to three entries. Those who enter 3 pieces are guaranteed that at least one of them is accepted, so of course most people go for 3. My problem is not to come up with three - it's more to limit what I want to 3 only. I have 2 definite pieces, and I need to select one more out of a couple that I'd love to have in the show. Ah well, Monday is the deadline, so by Tuesday morning that will be behind me.
In the meantime - let me introduce you to Al.
Hard to tell what he is thinking of, what he is contemplating (maybe he, too, is trying to choose entries for a show), what plans run through his mind, almost materializing into action in the background that surrounds him.
I went for a drippy-spotty-splotchy kind of style that I am growing to like. The smooth Bristol paper on which I am working is showing every brush stroke, thus preventing me from doing perfect washes and forces texture - and I like it a lot.
Funny - on one hand I yearn to paint with those perfectly smooth washes, as I know a couple of painters who create magic with them. But whenever I myself resist the urge to texturize and go for those washes, they seem flat and boring to me, and I reach for anything that will ruin the perfection and bring some life into them.
Also, color-wise, I keep realizing that I work much better with limited palettes. At some point I dipped my brush in blue, and was amazed how much it all suddenly tied together and popped.
I'm learning a lot from these bozzettos - time to start utilizing all that wisdom on a bigger sheet of paper, eh?
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Still not feeling up to it, still keeping at those little bozzettos.
I'm slacking from the one-bozzetto-a-day promise I made to myself, but hey - tough. Happens. When the spirit is low, the energy is not always available.
Plus, I'm now trying to decide on three pieces to enter to the upcoming show at one of the art organizations I belong to, the one whose last year's annual show bestowed two awards upon me. Yeah, I know it's silly to expect a recurring success, but I am only human...
So, decisions, decisions... it's a juried show, and we can each submit up to three entries. Those who enter 3 pieces are guaranteed that at least one of them is accepted, so of course most people go for 3. My problem is not to come up with three - it's more to limit what I want to 3 only. I have 2 definite pieces, and I need to select one more out of a couple that I'd love to have in the show. Ah well, Monday is the deadline, so by Tuesday morning that will be behind me.
In the meantime - let me introduce you to Al.Hard to tell what he is thinking of, what he is contemplating (maybe he, too, is trying to choose entries for a show), what plans run through his mind, almost materializing into action in the background that surrounds him.
I went for a drippy-spotty-splotchy kind of style that I am growing to like. The smooth Bristol paper on which I am working is showing every brush stroke, thus preventing me from doing perfect washes and forces texture - and I like it a lot.
Funny - on one hand I yearn to paint with those perfectly smooth washes, as I know a couple of painters who create magic with them. But whenever I myself resist the urge to texturize and go for those washes, they seem flat and boring to me, and I reach for anything that will ruin the perfection and bring some life into them.
Also, color-wise, I keep realizing that I work much better with limited palettes. At some point I dipped my brush in blue, and was amazed how much it all suddenly tied together and popped.
I'm learning a lot from these bozzettos - time to start utilizing all that wisdom on a bigger sheet of paper, eh?
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Monday, August 11, 2008
ArtPact #63
(Also published on "Unchain My Art")
She sat there, alone.
A woman in her seventies. Her wonderful eyes emphasized by her penetrating, quiet beauty.
Waiting. For a friend, perhaps.
Well dressed with simple elegance, her hair perfectly done, save for some strands that took the liberty to get loose.
Natural and undyed, it had that silvery quality to it, which reminded me of my mom's hair that hairdressers refused to dye even when she asked them to. "There is no way I can make it prettier than it already is", they would always tell her. And they were right.
She sat there, austere, keeping to herself. Waiting.
I had to paint her.
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Chihuly (or - He Who Lives in a Glass House...)
(Also published on "Unchain My Art")
Sometimes, it's best to leave your expectations at home. Just air them out, leave them behind.
That's what I did yesterday, when I went to see the so-much-spoken-of Chihuly exhibition at the De Young museum of art in San Francisco.
Y'see, at the risk of losing all my readers at once, I'll go ahead and admit that I never really liked Chihuly's art. I know, I know - he is considered to be a highly-superlativized genius, and who am I to object, but, well, I always perceived his work as too colorful, too screaming, too showy, too - you name it.
And yet - everyone who went to this exhibit came back utterly impressed. Plus, Katherine Chang-Liu (who's workshop I took a coupe of years ago) said something that really stuck with me: "go see art that annoys you - and try figuring out why is it art and not crap. It will open and expand your horizons you more than you can imagine!". Alas, The JohnnyB does not abide by that principle, and he refused to come with me, as he shares my opinion about the work, but - do not despair: a couple of months ago, DiploK ((whom you may remember from this post, and who is also blessed with a husband who's sick and tired of going to every art show), has proposed to me to become her 'Art Wife'.
Choked with emotions, I accepted.
And so, we went to the city.
Luckily, I'm a member of the De Young, which paid off for this exhibit, as apparently this exhibit is considered to be a special one, which means you pay to see it (Aha! but not if you're a member!). Plus, it's timed! Like, you get a little sticker that entitles you to go in, and it has a time stamp that tells you you have to get in there by 1pm (in our case).
So, you go to the end of the v-e--r---y l----o-------n--------g line of anticipating people, and wait to be let in. I personally hated this, and got more agitated once got close to the entrance and realized that if we wish to have the headset that enlightens you about the exhibit, you need to take out more dollars and give them to the nice ladies there (a total rip-off, if you ask me). Sicne I did all the driivng up and back, DiploK treated me to a headset and in we went, with me muttering all kinds of things that were as far as can be from positive attitude. Yup, you betcha I was cranky by all this hype.
...until we got to the first room.
The exhibit is spread over 11 rooms (galleries, as they call it), each has a separate body of work, a different feel and mood. The rooms are dark and only the glasswork is lit, which adds a very impressive effect. Yes, there was a lot of the ultra-colorful stuff that I was expecting and am not crazy about, but some of the galleries have just left me speechless with awe. Like the absolutely stunning glass pieces inspired by Navajo blankets and baskets, or the snowy feel of Finland, so elegantly done with countless tall thin bluish-purple glass thingies installed on top of trees with peeling bark, looking like a Hannukia on steroids. Or the huge water-lily-like sculptures. Or the immense bowls.
I was impressed beyond words. What a misjudgment it was to think Chihuly was just about gaudy flashy art. Apparently, he has another side, perhaps less-known, and I loved his more limited-palette works, especially the Navajo-inspired ones.
For reasons I cannot fathom, it was actually allowed to take photos (I still cannot believe it!), so I can shared some of it.
WackieM mentioned to me today that if you've never tried glass-blowing, you cannot quite appreciate the mastery that Chihuly has achieved in his work. So, novices like me just look at some of his work and go "Oh, that's big. OK". But - it's not that obvious, so it seems. Thinking of it, I realized it's a bit like how you look at a painting. So many times I heard the comment "Ohhh, look at that painting - look at all those details!", which is likely to be said by most people who do not paint or draw. But those of us who do, tend to stop at their tracks at the sight of a very minimal artwork with very few details, admire it forever and sigh "Ah, if I could only do that! Just suggest rather than feed all the information to the viewer with a silver spoon".
And maybe that's why I lean more towards his clean-lined work, rather than all the spiky thorny swirly multicolored look-at-me pieces.
As DiploK and I were having lunch, trying to digest all the wonders that we've seen, we mentioned the pieces that were for sale at the gift shop. There were a couple of glorious bowls by Chihuly, for the symbolic price of several thousands dollars (well, the dollar did go down, so if you think if foreign currency, maybe it's not so pricy...). I was drooling about those, when DiploK's imagination started to get into the fast-forward mode.
"You think we could load one of those big pieces from the exhibit into your Beetle?", she pondered.
"Sure!", I joined her little fantasy game, "my Beetle has a sun-roof, we can open it. And leave the windows open too, for the spikes to stick out".
She grinned at me, about to continue, but then I stopped her thread of thought.
"There is one problem", I said sadly. "I am not sure they are microwave safe. Y'see, those huge bowls would be perfect for baking a casserole in them".
But a person like DiploK would not let such triviality stop her.
"Ah, we can go back to the exhibit hall and turn them over, check if it is microwave safe", she solved my problem.
At this point, the woman eavesdropping from the table next to ours almost choked on her food.
Some people just don't have any sense of humor.
Sometimes, it's best to leave your expectations at home. Just air them out, leave them behind.
That's what I did yesterday, when I went to see the so-much-spoken-of Chihuly exhibition at the De Young museum of art in San Francisco.
Y'see, at the risk of losing all my readers at once, I'll go ahead and admit that I never really liked Chihuly's art. I know, I know - he is considered to be a highly-superlativized genius, and who am I to object, but, well, I always perceived his work as too colorful, too screaming, too showy, too - you name it.
And yet - everyone who went to this exhibit came back utterly impressed. Plus, Katherine Chang-Liu (who's workshop I took a coupe of years ago) said something that really stuck with me: "go see art that annoys you - and try figuring out why is it art and not crap. It will open and expand your horizons you more than you can imagine!". Alas, The JohnnyB does not abide by that principle, and he refused to come with me, as he shares my opinion about the work, but - do not despair: a couple of months ago, DiploK ((whom you may remember from this post, and who is also blessed with a husband who's sick and tired of going to every art show), has proposed to me to become her 'Art Wife'.
Choked with emotions, I accepted.
And so, we went to the city.
Luckily, I'm a member of the De Young, which paid off for this exhibit, as apparently this exhibit is considered to be a special one, which means you pay to see it (Aha! but not if you're a member!). Plus, it's timed! Like, you get a little sticker that entitles you to go in, and it has a time stamp that tells you you have to get in there by 1pm (in our case).
So, you go to the end of the v-e--r---y l----o-------n--------g line of anticipating people, and wait to be let in. I personally hated this, and got more agitated once got close to the entrance and realized that if we wish to have the headset that enlightens you about the exhibit, you need to take out more dollars and give them to the nice ladies there (a total rip-off, if you ask me). Sicne I did all the driivng up and back, DiploK treated me to a headset and in we went, with me muttering all kinds of things that were as far as can be from positive attitude. Yup, you betcha I was cranky by all this hype.
...until we got to the first room.The exhibit is spread over 11 rooms (galleries, as they call it), each has a separate body of work, a different feel and mood. The rooms are dark and only the glasswork is lit, which adds a very impressive effect. Yes, there was a lot of the ultra-colorful stuff that I was expecting and am not crazy about, but some of the galleries have just left me speechless with awe. Like the absolutely stunning glass pieces inspired by Navajo blankets and baskets, or the snowy feel of Finland, so elegantly done with countless tall thin bluish-purple glass thingies installed on top of trees with peeling bark, looking like a Hannukia on steroids. Or the huge water-lily-like sculptures. Or the immense bowls.
I was impressed beyond words. What a misjudgment it was to think Chihuly was just about gaudy flashy art. Apparently, he has another side, perhaps less-known, and I loved his more limited-palette works, especially the Navajo-inspired ones.
For reasons I cannot fathom, it was actually allowed to take photos (I still cannot believe it!), so I can shared some of it.
WackieM mentioned to me today that if you've never tried glass-blowing, you cannot quite appreciate the mastery that Chihuly has achieved in his work. So, novices like me just look at some of his work and go "Oh, that's big. OK". But - it's not that obvious, so it seems. Thinking of it, I realized it's a bit like how you look at a painting. So many times I heard the comment "Ohhh, look at that painting - look at all those details!", which is likely to be said by most people who do not paint or draw. But those of us who do, tend to stop at their tracks at the sight of a very minimal artwork with very few details, admire it forever and sigh "Ah, if I could only do that! Just suggest rather than feed all the information to the viewer with a silver spoon".
And maybe that's why I lean more towards his clean-lined work, rather than all the spiky thorny swirly multicolored look-at-me pieces.
As DiploK and I were having lunch, trying to digest all the wonders that we've seen, we mentioned the pieces that were for sale at the gift shop. There were a couple of glorious bowls by Chihuly, for the symbolic price of several thousands dollars (well, the dollar did go down, so if you think if foreign currency, maybe it's not so pricy...). I was drooling about those, when DiploK's imagination started to get into the fast-forward mode.
"You think we could load one of those big pieces from the exhibit into your Beetle?", she pondered.
"Sure!", I joined her little fantasy game, "my Beetle has a sun-roof, we can open it. And leave the windows open too, for the spikes to stick out".
She grinned at me, about to continue, but then I stopped her thread of thought.
"There is one problem", I said sadly. "I am not sure they are microwave safe. Y'see, those huge bowls would be perfect for baking a casserole in them".
But a person like DiploK would not let such triviality stop her.
"Ah, we can go back to the exhibit hall and turn them over, check if it is microwave safe", she solved my problem.
At this point, the woman eavesdropping from the table next to ours almost choked on her food.
Some people just don't have any sense of humor.
Labels: Art, Creativity of Others, Time Out, Wow
Monday, August 04, 2008
ArtPact #62
(Also published on "Unchain My Art")
Back from a vacation in British Columbia, which was bitter-sweet.
We spent 10 days in Vancouver and then Vancouver Island (mostly Victoria).
Being a vacation I anticipated for 10 years (long story), you can imagine my expectations were at their peak. And, as happens with high expectations, reality does not always stand up to them. So, we saw some great views, had wonderful food, had some miserable weather, made some wrong choices as for where to go and what to see, got stuck for some hours on the flight back - It was one of those vacations that actually made us happy to go back home. You live, you learn, you blog.
And now we're back. The JohnnyB to his work, and me to my new freedom.
No longer the president of our watercolor society, I am still involved in a more behind-the-scenes sort of way, and helping maintain the website and organize exhibits, but I've pretty much got my life back.
Which allows me to start painting up a storm, right?
Thing is, after months of not really painting seriously, it's not easy to get back to it. There's this fear that I forgot how to paint, and I know the only thing that can put me back on track is just jump into it and start painting, gain some brush mileage, waste some paint, ruin some paper.
I started doing it at the figure drawing class, but the summer session has ended, and the next one begins only in September.
Which is actually a good thing, as I cannot cling to the straw of a class. I have to paint at home, on my own - the best way to advance and do my own thing, find my own voice again.
So, in the past couple of days, I've been bozzettoing my way back up. I'm in a couch potato Blues mood these days, and - loyal to this, I spend a lot of time in front of the TV.
Rather than fight this, I decided to set a tiny "studio" there - a lap desk, brushes, some paint, bunch of papers and water. And, just as I did when I was stressed in time, whenever I see an image that appeals to me, I pause the TV and make a little painting of it.
No commitment to create a masterpiece, no pressure, no fear of the world coming to an end if it's not successful - it's all about getting my muscles back in shape, about learning to see and choose what's important to render and what's best left out, about combining colors and shapes, about where to put lines.
These two images are my first attempts, done with watercolor on smooth Bristol paper. No preliminary drawing - just the brush.
Not sure the brush mileage I gain this way will get me an around-the-world free ticket, but at least I can eventually upgrade to getting back to business.
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Back from a vacation in British Columbia, which was bitter-sweet.We spent 10 days in Vancouver and then Vancouver Island (mostly Victoria).
Being a vacation I anticipated for 10 years (long story), you can imagine my expectations were at their peak. And, as happens with high expectations, reality does not always stand up to them. So, we saw some great views, had wonderful food, had some miserable weather, made some wrong choices as for where to go and what to see, got stuck for some hours on the flight back - It was one of those vacations that actually made us happy to go back home. You live, you learn, you blog.
And now we're back. The JohnnyB to his work, and me to my new freedom.
No longer the president of our watercolor society, I am still involved in a more behind-the-scenes sort of way, and helping maintain the website and organize exhibits, but I've pretty much got my life back.
Which allows me to start painting up a storm, right?
Thing is, after months of not really painting seriously, it's not easy to get back to it. There's this fear that I forgot how to paint, and I know the only thing that can put me back on track is just jump into it and start painting, gain some brush mileage, waste some paint, ruin some paper. I started doing it at the figure drawing class, but the summer session has ended, and the next one begins only in September.
Which is actually a good thing, as I cannot cling to the straw of a class. I have to paint at home, on my own - the best way to advance and do my own thing, find my own voice again.
So, in the past couple of days, I've been bozzettoing my way back up. I'm in a couch potato Blues mood these days, and - loyal to this, I spend a lot of time in front of the TV. Rather than fight this, I decided to set a tiny "studio" there - a lap desk, brushes, some paint, bunch of papers and water. And, just as I did when I was stressed in time, whenever I see an image that appeals to me, I pause the TV and make a little painting of it.
No commitment to create a masterpiece, no pressure, no fear of the world coming to an end if it's not successful - it's all about getting my muscles back in shape, about learning to see and choose what's important to render and what's best left out, about combining colors and shapes, about where to put lines.
These two images are my first attempts, done with watercolor on smooth Bristol paper. No preliminary drawing - just the brush.
Not sure the brush mileage I gain this way will get me an around-the-world free ticket, but at least I can eventually upgrade to getting back to business.
previous ArtPact... ...next ArtPact
Labels: Art, ArtPact, Vacation
