Working Out

I know, I know- this isn't what most folks think of as working out, but for me it's sweat and tears and muscle memory and being wiped out from the exercise! And no Neil Diamond blasting on the stereo (which I cannot listen to without counting out loud to the beat!)The only difference between Your Work-Outs and My Work-Outs is that I bet you sleep in the night. What happens to me is I get on a perpetual adrenalin high and am awake most of the night listening to old 'This American Life' episodes on the iPod. Yeah, last night I got through five episodes. No big deal, I don't remember them and can listen to them tonight with the same enthusiasm for the stories. What happens is that with talking in the background my mind goes into fifth gear so it just cruises along wherever it wants to go. I solve world problems, I solve family problems, I solve studio problems. I plot, I plan, I ponder. And I do a lot of phlipping around in bed too. (couldn't resist)

So, it was 4 AM when I finally gave up today and hit the dishes and the laundry. Since we have what they now call 'open concept' in our wee house (used to be called 'no-friggin'-doors-in-this- place'!) I can't turn on these machines because they disturb the quiet enjoyment of the neighborhood. In other words TY has to turn up whatever action/adventure/war movie he is involved in and it drives me right out of the house. I spend lots of time in the courtyard communing with the screeching squirrels lately. But, back to the no-door-on-the-laundry problem. It's all my fault when we renovated. Before that I was basically here all the time an could deal with laundry and the dishwasher whenever TY would hit the golf course or go out in his Cobra for a drive. Apparently, since I am 'woman', these machines don't annoy me. What annoys me is laundry build-up, explosions right out of the hamper. But TY never sees the laundry escape from it's basket- doesn't bother him one bit until he is out of skivvies.

I hired a cleaning team that comes in once every other week, always the same day and always right on time. They do a great job getting at things I tend to let slide as the dust bunnies start having conventions. TY hates these days because they too interfere with his 'quiet enjoyment' of his pail of coffee and his seventeen newspapers. Nothing I love more than coming home to a clean house that smells like Lysol or whatever it is they use, he is perfectly happy letting the crap pile up around him. (I made him watch 'Hoarders' one time and it made him sick!) So now, when I know the ladies are coming I make sure we go out to breakfast that day. We take Molly, hit the beach for the sunrise and a load of sand, then go to one of several great outdoor breakfast places that welcome dogs with big cake tins full of ice water and a pat on the head.

We are not very well suited except that we both like what we like when we like it. (Cue Frank Sinatra's 'My Way' here.)

So, anyway, I try to use the 'delay start' on my machines and get them all humming during the night so it won't offend. My 'busy-ness' annoys. So I let the work get done while I lie there fretting about Lacey McCurtain! And here she is so far:

The heavy gel medium works perfectly, but I made some changes yesterday because I didn't want her to look like a bride dog! So I am now stencilling the lace as I go and it looks more like fur. Sort of. This is going to take a long time, as I have to stop and clean my hands every few minutes as I get too sticky to continue. I got to her neck piece yesterday, here:

So, as you can see, she is emerging. I got the whites of her eyes painted, and am deathly afraid I will screw up when I do the next step. She will have brown eyes (because I do, of course, and Brown Eyes are Local Eyes and Local Eyes are Best!)

And every so often, after my hands are unstuck, I hit the machine again. I'm making good progress here too, and it's coming along. Yesterday I trimmed it to size to make it easier to jam through the machine- that didn't help one bit. I'm a mess of scratches all over my hands and arms from stuffing the pin-filled quilt through that small hole in the machine. I didn't realize the damage until I had to squeeze some lemons last night- OUCH!
OK, some some of the cuts are paper cuts from ruffling through my images. Looky what I found in a very old pile of stuff I had cut from magazines and stuffed into my Image Folder Box! It's a little yellow timer that I had cut out for it's face, but somewhere since forgetting I had the little image, I found a real red timer at Anthropologie and bought it in my frenzy to make the studio 'cute'. And besides, one always needs a timer, right? It's the almost SAME timer only about ten years apart. Stuck some glue on it and put it on the wall between the fire extinguisher and my set of beautiful red and yellow funnels that serve absolutely no purpose.
I'm sure you've heard about buying the same clothes over and over again unconsciously, right? People end up with seven pairs of khaki pants and nothing else this way. I gues a timer collection isn't too far off this syndrome. I like what I like.

And in my continuing quest for that 'cute' studio, I cut up a hideous old eBay quilt top that arrived in all it's poly blend glory after being touted as cottons. But it will make good little slipcovers for my directors chairs as soon as I change the thread in the machine to white. I'm just doing the backs, taking the seat off involves too much effort. And in that seat is my NEW OLD ELECTRIC FRYING PAN that my walking pal found for me at a thrift store for $4. Encaustic, here I come!
And speaking of walking- I am late to meet her - wish it were light outside...