The Journal of Rhiannon Black

 I just wish I could make this thing prettier. I know it's kind of silly but maybe not but the aesthetics of the whole dreamwidth look just makes me kinda cringe. 

LJ has more free stuff to dress things up with but the whole moving the servers to Russia bit is worrisome.

And these journaling platforms are sort of passe. It's all facebook now. And facebook is fastfood compared to this. 

Oh, saw Pat today. She walked into Books-a-million and we sat and talked and caught up some. She's off to another show. And the Philly museum people came and begged her to come back to their craft show. She told them she had done their show and not sold anything and they begged her pretty please.

That's very cool.

Loom knitting is a harmless addiction. I can stop anytime I want.

I've been keeping up with the walking (skipped Sunday but that's okay). Some days my pace is faster than others (usually I'll have a faster day and then back to sloth speed). Distance is getting easier. A little. My next goal is walking consistently to the Westgate Publix. Soon.

That's it for now.

Really, I can stop anytime I want.

I hied myself out of the house and got to walking this afternoon. Yeah, I've been walking most days, I've missed Sundays sometimes and just stayed home. In my defense, last week, on Saturday, I got to the bus bench across from the law library and zoom the effing bus blew past me. Really? Anyhoo, I sat for a moment, pondered, got up and started trudging again. Got to Westgate and into the Publix before the next #5 came by, which gave me two miles. It was tough, sad, but still, I did it.

So Sunday last, I rested.

My achilles tendinitis is still tres annoying. But it's not any worse.

Back to the story. I walked today and as I lumbered along I realized, hey, I'm going a tad faster. And really, just a tad, really. A smidgen of faster, a pinch. But it was something measureable by my brain. And little walks are easier than they were.

And going out, getting going, is reaching that tipping point of being pleasurable, as being, boy oh boy oh boy it's time for my walk.

And it's helping my overall mood level. Happier over all.

We have a cold front on its way. Accuweather says a low of 37 on Friday/Saturday and a low of 30 on Saturday/Sunday. I've also heard a low in the mid-twenties. No no no no no no no. Too cold. Too cold.

We're in a La Nina, kind of droughty, and though my roses are doing okay, not showing any drought-stress, I've been toying with the idea of dosing them with water from time to time, after adding maybe liquid fertilizer at about a quarter strength. And maybe top dressing them with Black Kow or something. I don't want to encourage a whole passel of growth right now. I don't know.

And am toying with planting some of the rose hips that some of the plants are sporting right now and seeing what I get. Couldn't hurt.

Been meaning to do this forever. Lots of changes since the last time I posted. I had to say goodbye to both PyePye and Arizona. PyePye didn't quite make her 17th birthday--I took her to the vets on 2 August. Arizona made their birthday, 10 September, a few days later I noticed she had lost a lot of weight, quickly, and looked like a little old lady and was so fragile. I took her to vets on 16 September. Now it's just me, Breck (the fairy princess), and the Noodle Cat.

More later. I will be journaling more frequently. I will.

And walked a mile today and walked a bit on Friday. And it was much easier than I expected, even with the Achilles Tendonitis.

Oh, and have lost a bit of weight. Looks good and well not so good, you know, wrinkly bits. Love it.

I keep meaning to post something. I really do. And it's not like I've been super busy doing important stuff, just the usual farting around.

I have a pathetic Etsy store set up with one item. I need to take more pictures and get my act together. I really have a lot of bracelets to put up and maybe--fingers crossed--sell. I did sell that one to Pat, she wore it to her reunion as planned and got loads of praise for it. Hmmm, too bad I did have some business cards made up that she could have passed out to her former classmates.

This is it--the final semester of jewelry class. I need to get my butt in gear and see where we can meet for our "jewelry cooperative." I'm hoping for something on the Friday Art Walk, wouldn't that be amazing.

Had to change sketching day from Monday to Tuesday as I'm taking Stacy's class again and this year it's scheduled Monday-Wednesday from one to two-forty. This is decidedly better than nine o'clock, so hard finding a parking place at nine in the morning.

Taking Life Drawing again. The three sections originally scheduled filled up very early. I was in Dan's Tuesday-Thursday class, also one to two-forty. But they added a Friday morning class and I made the jump. So far, so good. The parking lot is busier on Friday morning for a nine o'clock class than I would have expected but nowhere near as bad as Monday through Thursday at the same time. We are, after all, the only visual arts class scheduled. So while the parking spaces are pretty much full, it's not a demolition derby.

Had to swing by Performance Trans and beg them (okay, no begging was required) to change my license plate for me. Those locking bolts have proven to be more than a little annoying. But they did it in a flash.

Namesake niece (sorta) was diagnosed with an ear infection and pneumonia a week ago. The antibiotics have apparently made quick work of both. Big Brother said he had taken to asking her "how are you feeling?" and she had taken to answering him by kicking him in the shin and saying "does that answer you question?"

They're cute at that age (almost five and a half).

First time back at sketchers, in weeks. About a month, I'd guess. Bill and I had agreed that the holiday weeks were too crazy making to meet up. Which turned out to be a good thing. The Cherry Red decided it need some fixing and I got a bad cold (fun way to spend Christmas). And apparently, Bill had some sort of health issue come up, sounds like it was post-Christmas but pre-New Years. He said he went in for some sort of test and ended up in the hospital for a procedure. Which is another reason we have not met. He's been slow to mend. He emailed me today saying he was feeling much better but that his daughter had gotten back in town from her assignment in Indianapolis and he was going to spend time with her today.

Still, I'm back on track. But after almost six years of sketching Mondays, it's been a bit of a wrench to switch to Tuesdays. I kept feeling, hmmm, odd, bereft, something, on Sunday when I didn't send out a reminder email and then Monday, oy, no sketching. And no class because of MLK Day.

Dear Harry Potter fanfic authors, let's talk color theory, shall we?

Harry Potter has green eyes (just like his mother).

And you so love putting him in green.

To bring out the color of his eyes.

Only that don't work.

Really.

Want to bring out the color of his eyes? Put him in red (for traditional color theory) or magenta. Magenta is the true complement, but red is close enough. You see, contrast makes colors more noticeable, makes them "pop." If Harry is flushed (with arousal, embarrassment, too much niacin), if he's sunburnt, hell, if he's gone and painted his face red to support Gryffindor, his eyes are going to look really really green.

Really.

I mean, I got the structures pretty close to all right. But when I looked at it a couple hours after class, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell the legs were long. How I got them that off I don't know. (Sure as hell I know, I didn't check and check and check my freakin not really measured measurements. I mean, who am I kidding? But really, why why why. Arrgh.)

But it's almost not bad. And I so wanted to shade it.

Going in to the studio on Friday, sort of noonish to three-ish. Allison expects to be able to sit for us. I'm not sure if I'll have a signed studio monitor form for it (Alora--and no she hasn't answered my email yet--was gone for the day or perhaps not in [but her office door was wide open and how weird is that if she were gone for the day], she might be back Friday. I have her admin's card.) But should the campus cops wander in, I'm going to wing it and look very wide eyed and maybe get a bit of a whine in my voice but allllllll the teachers say we can use the studios on Fridays, honest they do. Who knows. They never showed up when we were there in the recent past.

Diane is planning on joining us.

I might open the day up to other people as I get to know them better.

One doofus came over and critiqued my drawing mid-draw, very pontificatingly, very from on high. We turned the drawings around at the end of the session. I walked around and looked at my fellow classmates' work. Varying degrees of good and non-good. The pontiff's? Nothing remarkable. Not at all.

The older lady in class (she's going to be one of the "fun" ones, I can tell. Dan said, you know, if you did the homework last night, you'd have an easier time right now. "I was scared to do it."

Huh?

It's a Raphael. What's so scary? Do it right, do it wrong. What's scary? (Did I do it? No, I have to figure out where I put the book. I'm not buying another one.)

All in all, though, I'm sort of almost kind of pleased with the second drawing of the day (and the first wasn't too bad either). The seated pose, o she of the long long legs, had a few moments of elegance and grace to the line, the Robocop legs notwithstanding.

The day when a giant bunny brings baskets of dyed, hardboiled eggs and various candies cradled in colorful artificial grass in honor of the resurrected Christ.

My culture, but not my religion. Do I have a religion?

Diane and I are trading portraits. She started mine Tuesday last, worked some more on Thursday and after pondering, emailed me about the possibility of getting together Friday. She's been feeling selfish because I've been sitting and she's been painting. That will change, I hope, now that I get to work on my portrait. I got a start of it on Friday, did a silverpoint underdrawing and then an umber underpainting, very basic, not a full grisaille underpainting. So far, I like it.

Patricia (she's taking Painting I and II), happened upon us when we first started on Tuesday and said, oh, good. When you talked about trading last week I wanted to ask if I could get in on it but yada yada. Anyway, we both said, no problem and she set up an easel as well. On Thursday, about halfway through the "pose," Aubrey came in and said, damn, I didn't know you were doing this. Mind if I sketch you? Bwahaha, turnabout's fair play.

Next time, I'll bring a pillow.

Diane, a few minutes into her pose, said wow this is a hard chair. I mentioned the pillow idea, but that we'd have to bring it with us, not leave it, because too many things go walkabout.

We're talking about starting up a Friday portrait get together. The studio is always open Fridays, no classes ever scheduled for it, and it will be air conditioned through the summer.

I also mentioned my long-ago idea of sketching various rehearsals of dancers, actors, singers at Santa Fe and Diane is enthused. I'll bring it up to the others this week. And talk to Alora, again. There's also the community theatre and various dance places around town...

Tomorrow the world, eh?

Class remains very frustrating. I am resolved, though, to slow down, sketch out the pose more carefully, underpaint with umber and then stop the first night. The umber will dry (enough at least) not to muddy the colors the next night. I can spend the rest of the first night mixing colors. I can even have a test panel to play with.

I need to work on some stuff tonight and tomorrow to take in Monday morning for call for entries. I'll also have a cuff or two, the fold formed sterling things.

Quote of the day:

Doubt no more that Oberon—
Never doubt that Pan
Lived, and played a reed, and ran
After nymphs in a dark forest,
In the merry, credulous days,—
Lived, and led a fairy band
Over the indulgent land!
Ah, for in this dourest, sorest
Age man's eye has looked upon,
Death to fauns and death to fays,
Still the dog-wood dares to raise—
Healthy tree, with trunk and root—
Ivory bowls that bear no fruit,
And the starlings and the jays—
Birds that cannot even sing—
Dare to come again in spring! (Doubt No More That Oberon, Edna St Vincent Millay)

Had the Cherry Red in at Performance Trans by 8:00 o'clock (yeah, I'm shocked too) and was out the door before nine thirty. It was the number four cylinder again, but with a twist. Sure, there was some oil fouling but not enough to explain the rough running. Somehow the spark plug had cracked. Strange, right. How do you explain that? Evil mechanic gnomes whacking on my engine while I sleep through the night?

But it's fixed--for now. And it feels so strange. I keep expecting it to miss and it doesn't.

Hard to believe that it's been seven years (and a day) since I had to say goodbye to the little guy. My sweet little guy. Can't believe how much I miss him after all this time. Such a gift, he was, a blessing.

Oh, well, I'm dithering.

Quote of the day: One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heav'd the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
“Come buy, come buy,” was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Long'd but had no money:
The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey, (Goblin Market, Christina Rosetti)

Going to the fair tomorrow. Hmmm, maybe that should be faire, who knows. I'll rendezvous with Sandi at her house, drop my car there and ride together. I'll have to be at her house at quarter after nine. Egads! It will still be close to freezing then. (Yup, we have a little cold front upon us, around, maybe just under freezing tonight and then maybe mid-twenties tomorrow night.) I'll take my sketchbook, a few pencils and my camera. And some money. There's always something frivolous to buy at the fair.

Dan was off in Memphis being bluesy. Classes went by quite smoothly. My painting of Sarah (new model, young, non-artist, doesn't understand why artists want nude models) and my drawings of Aubrey look, sort of, bi-pedal, humanoid. If you squint. And are really kind.

I've gotten some work done on the original self portrait in oil, solving, a bit, the fuzzy corona of hair problem. Multiple glazes seem to be working.

My plants are covered. I harvested a few tomatos today. The Tommy-toes have been quite tasty. Yum!

I'm sure there's more. I'll think of it later.