This is the third entry in my new art journal from my ds. Twice a week, I take care of a very special lady who has Alzheimer’s. She loves some of the old shows. After watching two Walton episodes and two Little House on the Prairie episodes, I decided to draw “Two Prairie Girls.”
I wasn’t able to finish it that night. The next day while I watched my mother-in-law sleep, I finished the girls.
For Christmas my oldest ds gave me a new art journal. It was a thoughtful gift but . . . I hadn’t finished the previous one, so to finish the other one first or not? Would the paper of this new one work with the water my favorite mediums used? Well, as with all the craziness in my life, I didn’t have time to do much art for myself.
After my youngest ds’s graduation, I am starting to feel like maybe I will have a few more minutes to create. Here is the second art journal page I created in the new art journal.
As I was searching on Pintrest for inspiration, I was unable to find any pins in this style. I know they exist. Just couldn’t find them. So, here is my original. Hoping to play more with this style. It was very relaxing and enjoyable. FYI- Intense pencils.
Life is changing. Doors are opening. Doors are closing. Hoping to post more about that in a future post.
A few of the things that have delayed my ability to focus on my blog recently are another death in the extended family, getting my mother-in-law set up with hospice, my son’s graduation from high school, a family feud, and lastly a nasty summer stomach virus.
My mom’s birthday was in May. It was very hard. I painted her the flowers in the photo above and sent it to her. The painting was inspired by CeeCeeCreation’s you tube video. My watercolor is a little different as I didn’t want to outright copy it, but with everything going on, I really needed the outside inspiration. Happy Birthday, Mommy!!!
I had hope to post the second part of the New Life Enterprises short story. Unfortunately, I was unable to get it even a basic edit. I had another funeral this week. Rest in Peace, Miss Larna.
On Friday, my husband driving home from his mothers on a wet roadway successfully avoided a turkey. It inspired the above art journal page. Later that evening his mom was admitted to the hospital. She went home yesterday, good and bad. Mostly bad, I think as her pain is no longer under control.
Thanks for your patience. Hope you enjoy my art journal page.
Sorry that I have been missing for a couple of weeks again. An aunt that I previously eluded to decided to call hospice in. I joined her kids, grandkids, and a sister in helping take care of her during this time of transition. She had great faith. Her funeral was over the weekend and today is the burial.
Above is the mixed media piece I created inspired by the time I spend with her. Aunt P., you are going to be missed. I love you.
My daughter and I hope to go see the third and final movie in the Maze Runner Trilogy soon. So in preparation, we watched the Maze Runner Movie (the first movie) tonight. While watching, I let my mind and hand create this journal page. (I also used a prime photo (Kindle) filter on the photo.)
Have you read the YA series Maze Runner by James Dashner? I loved it. I begged my daughter to read it with me seven years ago. She wasn’t ready. She read it several years after me and loved it. We have enjoyed the movies as well.
What is your favorite book(series) made into movie(s)? Please leave it in the comments below.
For me, this is as relaxing as coloring pages yet stressful.
The middle one answered one of my biggest worries. What happens if I mess it up? What happens if I smear? It is still one of my favorites. Which one is your favorite? Please tell me in the comments. Thank you.
The process behind the art:
I use Acrylic inks on photo paper to create the backgrounds. Using Pitt pens, dip pens with India and Acrylic Inks I doodle what I see.
Sorry for the lower resolution photo. I am hoping to add products with these designs to my Zazzle store soon.
UnBoxMe is one of my Zazzle stores with products I have created with my art. I have been having a very hard time trying to find time for my creativity, hence my absence from my beloved blog. Creating content is time consuming while wearing all the hats that I do during a typical week. I am sure that I am not alone.
As a way to increase my incoming revenue, I have been taking a serious look at my options. I work primarily on the weekends 23+ hours, usually broken into two shifts with me coming home and sleeping in between. While I love my client/patient, caregiving is exhausting work. I am emotionally involved. She has been in hospice for awhile now. So, I don’t feel like I can walk away. But also I am not sure I want to continue in this line of work as I am also caregiving for my parents and in-law.
I have decided to use some of the small chunks of time that I have to improve my Zazzle stores. I only have a few items completed with my Giving Your Heart Wings mixed media painting. I have plans to increase the variety of items. Please leave a message for me in the comments if there is a particular product you would like to see with this print. I am particularly happy with the way the painting transferred to the leggings (See affiliate link below.)
Week eight of Thain in Vain and Drafty Devil bringing us the 13-Week Streak Summer Flash Fiction challenge. 500 words, one story using the prompt, enjoy! Oops, this is the second short story using this prompt.
Prompt: Prompt – Week 8
Will you tell this story from the perspective of the bombshell, the couple or a short-order cook flipping burgers? A couple is seated in a booth at a diner when a red-headed bombshell walks in and sits down at their table.
Lola felt the eyes follow her. Yes, she was overdressed for a simple diner in the middle of the day. The black velvet tea length fifties vintage cocktail dress was . . . well, definitely, out of place.
She swung her auburn locks off her bare shoulders, emphasizing her ample cleavage.
What was he doing here? She’d sworn if she ever saw Richmond again, she was going to kill him.
She teetered on three inch heels. She hated heels but she liked being five foot four. Although, she needed more practice in them.
Just a few more steps, she slid into the booth with the Carmisino’s
“Lola, thank you for joining us,” Mr. Carmisino said, looking over his shoulder at Richmond, “We can’t offer you a room or help.”
Lola felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. She wanted to be surprised, but Richmond threatened her with this, all their friends and family refusing to help her. She couldn’t blame them. Her previous lifestyle combined with his lies made helping sound risky.
Mrs. Carmisino patted her hand pressing something into Lola’s palm. “We are so sorry, dear.” She shook her head barely enough for Lola to register.
“Thank you Mr. & Mrs. Carmisino.” Lola stood to leave keeping her hand clamped shut. Turning, her right heel slid out from underneath her.
Richmond was at her side as she straightened back up, his hand under her elbow. She yanked her arm away.
“Lola, let me help you.”
Turning to face him, “You don’t want to help but you want to control and own me. Well, you can’t. I won’t let you.” Resuming her teetering steps, she held her head high. Once the door closed behind her, under the bright blue sky, Lola let the tears stream down her face. What was she going to do now?
Which way to turn? She was officially homeless. Where could she go? Back to the nursing home and Shirley, she needed to return the dress and shoes. Shirley was wrong dressing for success didn’t ensure success.
Slowly opening her fingers, she read the note. Her fingers clenched. Lola unclenched her fingers releasing the paper into her other palm. A different kind of tear streamed now, tears of hope.
Week eight (hint – 1st story) of Thain in Vain and Drafty Devil bringing us the 13-Week Streak Summer Flash Fiction challenge. 500 words, one story using the prompt, enjoy!
Vicki Howay walked into the Flag Diner off the interstate. She knew she was over dressed, but Ila was pushing her. She spotted only one couple that met the description. It was easy as there was only one couple in the diner. How had Ila known?
Vicky could feel the eyes of the other patrons on her. While continuing her progress towards the couple, she focused on the hundred or so folk art style American flags of all sizes, shapes, and colors that decorated the walls of the diner.
“Mr. Justin Webber?” she said, stopping at the end of yellow formica table.
“Do I know you?”
“No, but your dead wife sent me,” Vicky winced. She hated this aspect of this gift/curse. Half the people didn’t believe in her ability. A quarter thought she was a liar. The last quarter, well, would fall for anything. What category would Justin Webber fall?
“My dead wife?” he asked a frown tugged at the corners of his lips. “As you can see,” he pointed to the lady sitting across from him, “My wife is very much alive.”
Vicky was quiet for a moment with a look of concentration on her face. “Ila?”
“No,” Justin’s eyes narrowed, “What are you up to?”
Vicky eyed the blond sitting across from him. She didn’t look like a killer. When Ila poured her heart out, Vicky had no doubts, but looking at the couple changed her feelings. She didn’t want to help a vengeful spirit. She also didn’t want to let a murderer go free.
“Clara, scoot over,” Vicky demanded sliding in even though Clara didn’t budge, “How did you and Justin meet?”
“You’re the physic, shouldn’t you know?” Clara replied icily.
This is why she got out of the business, Vicky fumed.
“Well . . . ,” Vicky took a deep breath, “According to Ila, you and her were high school pals who’d lost touch, found each other on social media. You gave her poisoned coffee over the last several months of her life, then started making moves on Justin here.”
Clara’s face was blotchy and Justin’s jaw fell open.
“I was trying to avoid accusing you out right but I have other things to do. I am feeling rather annoyed at the moment. Not sure why I got involved.” Vicky stood up to leave. Mumbling, hopefully quietly enough for no one but Ila to hear, “I told you I suck at this. Now, leave me alone.”
As Vicky reached for the door, she felt a hand on her arm.
“Not so fast, you . . . you . . .”
“”Lady” is the word you are searching for,” Vicky said smiling sweetly.
Clara’s hand flew back. Vicky didn’t have time to prepare as Clara’s fist connected with her left cheek. Vicky’s head snapped back, falling on her bottom.
“That’s for casting doubt.” Tears streamed down Clara’s face.
Justin pulled Clara into his arms whispering, “I know you’re innocent. Ila got it wrong.”