The answer to yesterday’s guessing game is right here.
click thumb to view the full size photo of our flowers.
Life, Love, and Critters – of course!
The Answer
February
14
2007
click thumb to view the full size photo of our flowers.
A Guessing Game
February
13
2007
Yesterday was a pretty productive day in the studio. I sketched out 7 paintings and began one of them. This is a very small sample of the painting that I started yesterday afternoon.
This is the part where you say “ooooh I wonder what that is!” and then I reply “Feel free to make a guess!”
You can find my reference photo for this painting here. If you’re bored and have a few minutes to spare, see if you can find it and throw me a guess or two.
Hi-Ho – My Show!
February
12
2007
As of today, I have 16 days to prepare for my exhibition that will begin on March 1st. There are 20 canvases in my studio that will be getting some serious attention over the next 16 days. Twenty. Twenty paintings, people.
(Note to self: Try something different, like not procrastinating. Just once.)
I have questions for you. Since many of you are too far away to attend my exhibition, what would you like me to show you? Would you like to see these works in progress? Would you rather wait until they’re finished and see them then? Are you curious? Do you have any questions you’d like to ask?
While you’re pondering and asking me questions, I’ll be in the studio.
Are You a Hugger?
February
6
2007
I don’t know where I developed this insane “personal space” thing, but I have a hard time hugging.
I had a conversation with a friend of mine about why I got the heebie jeebies at church. Not any particular church, in fact, just all churches. It was the whole touching thing. I am an introvert (swear to God I am, at least in person), and when people randomly grab my hand and get all friendly in my face or hug me and stuff I get creeped out. I mean, hugging and handholding and things are reserved for people I trust with my whole heart, you know? I explained to my girlfriend my fear of people violating my personal space, and she laughed at me. Okay I laughed at me, too, because that’s just a wierd thing to freak out about. But admittedly, I’m wierd.
One fine Sunday morning, my dear friend was speaking at her church and asked me to attend. I did. I managed to sneak in and even sat in the front row without being accosted by any regular members. My dear friend kept me sheltered and protected me from the huggers, those people, you know. The huggers. She did her best. I’ll give her that. Unfortunately, on the way out that day – I was separated from my CB (church bodyguard) and wouldn’t you know it, I ran smack into a hugger who I swear was waiting just for me at the top of the stairs. Standing there. Staring at me. Grinning ear to ear. I didn’t get one foot on the top platform before she took my hand (like I needed help) and drew me into her, sqwishing me and introducing herself.
A hugger. I’d been officially hugged by a church member, and all the sudden I felt obligated to her. To remember her name, or something. I felt kinda like I should have been invited to dinner, but that has yet to happen. (And I still see her not only at church, but ironically our kids attend the same school.)
I’m not sure if this means I’m supposed to become a hugger. Maybe this is God’s way of getting over my strangerhugaphobia. (I made that up.) Whatever it is, something strange happened to me yesterday afternoon, and I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.
My friend was over, using my treadmill (hey, someone has to use it, it’s all paid for and stuff.), and afterward we were chatting a bit. During our conversation I had the strongest urge to just give her a big hug! It was the oddest thing, because I’m not a hugger. I’m not married to her, I wasn’t born by her, raised with her – nor did I give birth to her, so she’s not really qualified to receive one of my hugs, really. But I wanted to. And I was fumbling around and kept myself occupied with other things just to avoid the whole hugging thing.
I’m worried, that she may be the person who causes me to become a hugger. What do I do? Do I just hug? Just randomly hug people? Do I not care what they think of my hug, or whether or not my hug will give them cooties? What if I hug too hard, or too soft?
This is all so new to me, I’d appreciate any advice on the matter. Are you a hugger? Any tips or tricks on the whole “how to hug a stranger” thing? Or are you like me, a strangerhugaphobic?
A Bunch of Words (and 1 little picture)
February
3
2007
Aaaah. Yes, the morning regimen. This is how today will start, followed by a nice warm nonfat vanilla latte (I’m a damn fine latte maker, I am.). Welcome to “what’s going on in my head this week” edition #(fill in the blank because I’m not going to count). This entry is brought to you by the makers of ibuprofen {{hug for those people}}, the makers of multivitamins {{thanks for the supplements}}, and the fine pharmecutical companies who regulate my thyroid and the beat of the rhythm of the night heart (80’s flashback).
Whew, what a week. Eye candies for you, throwing paint for me. It’s all been good and fun and by the end of next week, all of those lovely underpaintings will be complete and I will be in a tizzy about only having three weeks left to paint pieces for exhibition. hehe! I love stress. Without stress, I wouldn’t need those half-a-pink-pills. And I would miss them dearly, because they’re so nice to me. Okay, I’ll be serious – my time in my studio with my canvas, paints, paintbrushes and John Mayer (okay, he’s scaring me a little with the whole poor judgement over the girlfriend thing, but as it goes in Hollywood – this too shall pass (like bad gas)). Where was I? Oh, yeah. I was right here. These things all combined make up the other half of that little pink pill that I don’t need. Life is good.
So about that exhibition. At the end of this month, I’ll be setting up paintings in a 16-foot wide by 5-foot tall space, and they’ll be on exhibit until the end of May. So pack up the kiddies and head to the middle of a cornfield and turn left, you’ll see a bridge. Cross it and turn left, and my paintings will be on the right. I hope those directions are clear enough, and I hope you can all attend.
My head is really spinning this morning with a bunch of random things, so I’m just going to blurt it all out. Those of you who know me are familiar with this tactic of mine, the one where you have to keep up and try to remember and figure out what I’m referencing back to when I’m 10 minutes past that topic. Get a pencil and take notes, if it helps.
Are you keeping up? Good.
So MommaK loves her, I love her, and I knew she kinda wanted her but c’mon, you guys all want my paintings. I’m awesome. :giggle, eyeroll & sticks out tongue: (find me that smiley) She’s been hanging in my living room since I painted her, but now? She’s gone. She’s being professionally captured so that I can have a stretched canvas giclee print of her. And you know what happened lastnight while my little Chickeymonkey was playing piano? She stopped and came to me and said “MOMMY! The girl is gone! Where is she!?” and she gave me a big pouty face when I told her that someone purchased her and she’s off having her picture taken so we could have a print. Then she ran off and played piano again.
I couldn’t have hand-picked a better home for her, though. Really. I know that she’ll get as much attention at her new house, and I couldn’t resist such an obscene amount of money. I sorta felt like Julia Roberts holding a bunch of cash in Pretty Woman giggling my fool head off and sinking down into a tub full of bubbles – all I could see were shoes. Seriously. (just one pair. don’t freak out, “obscene” is a relative word.)
Wow, that’s a bunch of words already. I’ve probably confused or at least upset over half of you, since you really just come to be eyentertained. (haha! I should trademark that word.)
So that whole thing, that’s was the neatest thing, and It’s really honestly been such a blessed week, and such a motivating week in a lot of ways. Elsie arrived at her momma’s house, and she sent me this note after she opened the painting:
I don’t even know what to say – the image on the website didn’t do the finished work justice. I swear I thought I could reach out and pet her… the detail of the fur was amazing, it looked 3 dimensional and so soft! And her eyes… it was so Elsie. Wow!!!
and then also my Lovebird paintings arrived and I received this:
I received the paintings this week! they are awesome! they are so lifelike and you have truly captured the personality of each little bird- can’t even imagine how you did it with those digital pics I sent you. thank you thank you thank you for your beautiful work! I am so happy!
Truly, I cry when I read these e-mails and I’m at a loss for words to reply that express my gratitude and humility. I really do my best to make that final scanned image right on to the paintings, but I know that you just don’t get the size thing, the real in person impact. So when I hear things like this from my clients, I bawl like a baby. This is how I impact you, through my paintings – and words like these is how you impact me. These are my little fortune cookies that say “Dear Leanne, keep doing what I tell you to do and you’ll be just fine. Love, God.”
Yeah. {{grabs more kleenex}}
So this all comes at a particularly strange time, and a perfect time. Tell me He doesn’t know what He’s doing. Things that have been going on here at home that ((sorry)) I’m not bringing to my blog because they’re passing, fleeting upsets that in the grand scheme of things are just small hurdles to jump. This week has resolved everything and I feel a sense of peace today (aside from the headache, which the ibuprofen has conquered since I’ve been writing this for like 2 hours already) that I haven’t felt since the beginning of December.
Catybug – well her ability to read sheet music and play piano is insane. She’s kicking my butt on the only song I ever learned, and then some. Aside from one “B”, she’s a straight A kid in the 5th grade learning at a 6-7th grade level. It’s crazy how smart she is, and how when I (try to) help her study for tests, my head is spinning thinking “my kid is smarter than I am”.
I am so proud of our girls.
Two Hundred : A Milestone
January
29
2007
On December 11, 2002, I printed my first Certificate of Authenticity. It belongs to Doc Shnurman, a monochromatic chalk portrait of my family physician. Although I had completed several paintings and portaits prior to that date, that was the first one that received official documentation and began my professional endeavor and record keeping. Today I printed #200. And it belongs to Elsie.
I knew starting out that I wanted my work to be worth something – not just at the time of purchase, but to increase in value over time. I know that I’ll be dead when it happens, but I do want to make someone giddy with excitement when their appraisal from the folks on Antique Roadshow exceeds their expectations. I know. I’m wierd. But I want that. I want that for my clients, and I want that for my kids.
I also wanted my work to be worth something emotionally. That’s a big deal, and that carries more weight than the financial gain to me – that’s what keeps me going.
I haven’t done a CoA on every single painting – just on every one that has been sent off to a new home. So this isn’t a record of how many paintings I’ve completed, but how many people are in possession of an original work by yours truly. Two hundred.
That’s an incredible figure to me, two hundred. That’s about 4 full years, about 50 a year. That my work has reached out and affected that many people enough to want to own it is overwhelming, really.
I get to do what I love. I get to use the gifts that God blessed me with, and I’m humbled to know that what I do has meaning.
To those of you who have allowed me and my artwork into your homes, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, it wouldn’t be two hundred without you.
Me & Mine
January
21
2007
My mom & me
My sis & me
Just a couple more pics that we took yesterday during the visit with my family. I put a few more up in my photoblog, they’re pretty sweet.
Glam Leanne
January
20
2007
Knot Nosed Sandwich
January
19
2007
This morning, Catybug was having issues. Hair issues. In trying to save time in the shower, she opted out of conditioning her hair today, and paid dearly in front of the mirror with the hairbrush and comb. Nothing was going to get those knots out, and she was not a happy girl. She’s determined, and would have ripped every strand in her little head right out if it meant she’d never have another knot, so I had to intercede with a post-shower leave-in conditioner application.
Girls. And their hair.
So, when I started making lunches, I doodle the most prominent thing that comes to mind when I think about each of them. Today, it was knots. I started drawing the knot, and had no idea what was going to come next, but for some reason “Snot Nose” came to mind, and I ran with it, creating “Knot Nose”.
There you have it, the story behind the doodle.
(She rolled her eyes at me, and huffed a little. Then she thought it was a little funny, and then I was in the clear. Phew.)
