I have actually completed an artistic goal. Mind blowing, I know. Last night I shipped off my first attempt at publishing a book via BlurbTM, of Camera Morte photos. That’s right. After the girls go to bed at night and hubbo watches endless hours of talking heads repeating the same news day after day, I work on my little book, forty pages, laying out photos from Camera Morte. Hopefully the finished product will look good enough for me to share with you. I am filled with excitement and dread. The perfect combo. It is always scary completing a goal, for me the scariest and most thrilling is an artistic goal. Finishing applying for an arts grant I will probably never get, finishing a painting that might sit in my basement for years… but who cares? Rejection is as much a part, if not more a part of the artistic process, than acceptance is. Ask any of the famous dead artists and they’ll tell you. Don’t get me wrong, I actually had a good two or three year stretch, before the whole parenting idea creeped into my head. Emptied out the basement of work I’d been making for years. Now I have very few pieces left to sell, even if I wanted to. Time to make more things to fill up the basement.
Am contemplating making cookies, though I think I should wait ’till I can get the girls to help me. It is a shame not to include them in such projects. Beenie actually includes herself in cooking without any suggestion from me, while Mimi prefers to provide entertainment and distraction, then eat the finished product. Kind of a wild yin/yang thang, eh? There’s gotta be a baker and an eater. Everyone knows this is true.
Husband put up two beautiful strings of Xmas lights on the stereo shelf. I think it may be all we’re able to put up this year, due to extremely curious and resourceful fingers, all twenty of which are attached to my little wild angels. If there’s a way to pull apart something, one or both of them will spearhead the task. Not everyone has this kind of child, but I have two of them. Woo hoo!