Utensils and Neurotic List Making

Utensils in Earthenware

 I finished this little painting today.  It's painted from a photo of the utensils occupying the counter at Martha's retreat house.  I love the earthiness of the pot and the shiny gloss and gleam of the utensils.  I had a false start (depicted below), but ultimately, I just tried to make decisions that were more experimental and perhaps more intuitive--maybe less safe?  I tried to leave the edges of underpainting which I sometimes find the most interesting.  Mostly I love the glow of thin paint on canvas. 

I have to leave painting for awhile to work on stocking the shelves of the upcoming Pop Up Studio.  I've got a month to flush out my stock and have lots of school related projects meanwhile.  Faith and I will be doing a butterfly project in a second grade class for our Art in the Classroom PTO committee.  Also, it seems we may be organizing a project for all of the kindergarteners to celebrate their momentous graduation, and I'll be helping with their tie-dye project as well. 

Furthermore, I met with my brother, Nick (you may know him from his lovely comments on Pinwheel Anna), to discuss an upcoming project.  We will be conducting interviews in an attempt to research family history.  We're hoping to produce a variety of creations inspired by our findings: paintings, short stories, and video productions.  I'm really excited about all of this!  It's something that I've been wanting to do for a long time. 

To wrap my head around all these various threads, I've taken to obsessive list making and scribbling in various notebooks, calendars, sketchbooks, journals, etc.  I've got a book for everything.  For some reason I feel better about compartmentalizing everything rather than merging them into a central place let alone an electronic device like my smart phone.  I'm quite sure I'll be the last person on earth using a paper calendar to keep  track of my commitments. 

False Start (detail)

Utensils in Earthenware (detail)

what's on my desk and swirling in my brain. . .