Stars and Stripes, Part II

When I finished the second part of a pair of end tables, the task was bitter sweet. The tables had been cumbersome and took up a lot of room in my studio. They weren't my normal style and color choices, but honestly, I was sad to see them go. When I'm working on a piece (especially two matching ones) I really develop a connection with it. A lot of hours are spent looking at it, touching it, thinking about it, and creating it. After all, I'm pouring a little bit of myself onto the canvas. Every stroke, every color choice, and every combination of pattern, is me. I'm invested.




Okay, so before you think I've gone off my rocker, let me explain. My studio is a large room, off the back of my house. Every morning after I shower and have breakfast, I head back to "my room" to begin my day. I'm lucky to be able to have a designated space where I can create. My uniform consists of cut offs and a t-shirt (at least it isn't my PJs), each sporting every color under the rainbow. I usually will start with an hour on the computer (answering e-mails, blogging, etc...) than, I crank up the music (loud) and paint. For the most part, I'm with myself (and the furniture) until the kids arrive home (during the school year) around four. With only the mild interruption of my Black Berry (a “crack” berry as my family so lovingly calls it, because I never leave home without it) I am basically in my head. I think about the pieces in front of me, the ones I have to do tomorrow, and the ones I'll need to do for an upcoming show, or even a new piece I just discovered. You can see how the furniture and I really develop a relationship! LOL! When something is as labor intensive as these two pieces have been, it’s really hard not to think about “what” you’re painting.

These two particular pieces have made me think a lot about country, about freedom, and about all the service people, who protect us/me, and allow us the freedoms we have. For me that meant painting, what I want, when I want, and how I want, all in my modest back room. It means I can wear cut-offs and a bad t-shirt. It means I have the freedom to listen to whatever music I choose, or read and write, whatever I want. We owe so much to them.

The customer I did these 2 pieces for was a colonel in the army. She’s retired now, but still loves all that the army symbolizes and she wanted to convey that in these pieces. So, even though these tables were infringing on my small space, I realized if we didn’t have wonderful people like the colonel, then I might not even have a space to have them infringing on. “Stop complaining!” I said to myself, “…and just remember how lucky you are!” Yep, I talk to myself too, now you really think I’m crazy. Perhaps I need to get out more and socialize with people rather than furniture! LOL!



So, that's how I'm feeling today. It was sad to see them go. They provoked a lot of emotion, but I am excited about the next piece (and having my space back)! I have room to move, and moving to do, but it’s nice to know that another little piece of me has been sent out into the universe.