I’ll be heading off to Old Forge in the Adirondacks on Wednesday with my friend Anne.  It promises to be an art-filled couple of days since we’ll be stopping at the Hyde in Glens Falls on our way north to take in the Andrew Wyeth exhibit.  From what I understand the Wyeth exhibit includes pencil, watercolor and egg tempera works - right up my alley!  On Thursday we’ll be heading off to the Art Center - Old Forge to take in the Adirondacks National Exhibition of American Watercolors show that just opened on August 21st. 

I’m truly hoping for inspiration and a jump start to what has been an artistic dryspell lately.  I think what would be best for me is to focus on sketching, both pencil and watercolor sketching, without so much focus on finished work.  The hope is this approach will release some spontaniety and freedom to loosen up and get the creative juices flowing.  Sounds like a good plan to me…

I’ll post again on Sunday.  Till then… get out your crayons and color like you’re a kid again!

Changes… life is all about changes.  There’s no fighting it and no way to stop all the changes.

A couple weeks ago I drove through Duanesburg (New York) and noticed a building - the Countryside Food Mart that’s been standing in the center of town since I don’t know when - was being razed. I knew it was destined to be torn down at some point. The local scuttlebutt attributed it to some kind of soil contamination issues. Though it didn’t come as a real surprise, I was still shocked and saddened by watching its gradual disappearance. I took several photos as I sat at the traffic light one morning and emailed them to my sons, Jonathan and Michael.  Duanesburg is their “Hometown” and Michael’s first job was at the Countryside. We were all sad.

Then again yesterday as I drove through Esperance I noticed Eastman’s Cheesehouse was being demolished. Truthfully, Eastman’s has been closed for many years. Eastman’s too was local landmark left empty, abandoned and deteriorating. Both now gone but for the memories inside each of us.

I know by now, at 54, that life is all about change - external and internal. I suppose if everything stayed as it is we wouldn’t learn, grow and become better people. Change helps us to experience life. A reordering of things can push us in directions we would otherwise avoid. These new directions might lead us to grand opportunities or make us feel uncomfortable and unsteady. That’s the beauty and challenge of change. The uncertainty of it all is part of the adventure.

We can change our hair, clothing or residence - all are things I’ve done recently or are are trying to do currently - but the most important changes are those that happen inside us.   I’m always trying to change something.  Trying to be a better person, connect to God and find the meaning in my own life.

In many ways I’m like the Countryside and Eastman’s.  I’ve been around a long time and have sometimes been left empty, abandoned and deteriorating.  The important thing is to look forward and not dwell in looking backward.    Now that the Countryside and Eastman’s are gone I will wait to see what’s built in their place without judgment or preconceived expectation only open to something new.

Changes…life is all about changes. There’s no fighting it and no way to stop all the changes.  Truth is I don’t think were meant to stop the changes but are meant to embrace, raze and rebuild repeating the process as needed.

I’ve loved music as far back as I can remember and was raised on all kinds.  From the scores of My Fair Lady and Oklahoma to “Tumblin Tumble Weeds” sung by The Sons of the Pioneers and Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass playing “A Taste of Honey.”  Good stuff, all of it!

I remember getting our first stereo.   It was an RCA Victor console type with a dark wood cabinet - a real luxury in our lives.   It played 33 1/3’s, 45’s, 7/8’s and we used it plenty!   All that music diversity was just priming the pump for the music I would add to my list of favorites over the years.

But it’s the music of the 1960’s that transports me directly back to my teen years.  Oh how my sister and I loved the Beatles, Elvis, Paul Revere and the Raiders, The Monkees, Herman’s Hermits and more.

In those days we didn’t have much cash so attending a concert was out of the question most of the time.  Even investing in a record album took weeks and weeks of allowance saving something I was never very good at.  The majority of my collection included 45’s.  Luckily my sister squirreled away her allowance and I was the beneficiary of listening to her purchases more often than not.

When we did buy an album or a 45 the drill was to play and replay into infinity while driving our mother nuts in the process. Although driving our mother nuts wasn’t our ultimate goal that was the net effect hearing “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” a thousand times had on my poor mother.  My sister and I owned at least one Herman’s Hermits album and just last March we went to see them at Proctor’s Theater in Schenectady, New York.

So it was a great surprise when I discovered they’d be performing at our local fair in a venue where I could get a little closer to the one only Peter Noone who is still “cute” after all these years.  I’m not sure “cute” is the right adjective for a man of 62 but he still is.

I emailed Bethy immediately, “Wanna go?!”

“I’m there,” she responded.

Last Saturday night was the night and we were sitting a mere 20 feet or so from the stage.  The tent was filled with an older crowd mostly.   Bethy and I were, of course, two of younger looking attendees and we were singing, swaying and clapping like star struck teenagers.

That’s when it dawned on me that I might indeed be a Peter Noone Groupie.  Two concerts in one year, swaying, clapping and smitten.  But before I declare myself a groupie a little research is in order to see just what the actual responsibilities of a groupie are.

After a little Internet searching I discovered that a groupie is a “person who seeks emotional and sexual intimacy with a musician or other celebrity.”  Well that’s out!

And a groupie is “an enthusiastic young fan (especially a young woman who follows rock groups around).”  Define the word “young” please.

And a groupie is “someone who sleeps or screws the band. By the band I mean a famous rockstar.”  Well…. No!

Mirriam-Webster’s definition is one that I can live with:

Main Entry: group·ie
Pronunciation: \ˈgrü-pē\
Function: noun
Date: 1966

1 : a fan of a rock group who usually follows the group around on concert tours
2 : an admirer of a celebrity who attends as many of his or her public appearances as possible

Even though Mirriam-Webster’s definition is acceptable, for the sake of clarity I would like to amend my status to that of “Groupie Lite.”  I define “Groupie Lite” as an older woman who is a fan, will travel within a 50-mile radius to enjoy a concert, home by 11:30 p.m. latest and no putting out is involved.   Groupie Lite - I can live with that.

I feel so out of it.   My “kids” will be 34 this month and without youngsters or teenagers in the house one can find themselves out of the pop culture loop.    New movies, music and trends can escape the uninformed and initiated.  In order to stay up on what’s new and hip we 50-somethings (and older) need to make a little effort to stay up to speed on this stuff if you’re so inclined.

So when the latest movie in the Twilight series - Twilight Eclipse - was released on June 30, 2010, I wondered what all the hoopla was about.  Curiosity lead me to my Netflix queue where I added both Twilight and The Twilight Saga:  New Moon. The first arrived last week and as I watched it I was HOOKED! Not only hooked but I fell in love with Edward Cullen (Robert Pattison). Wouldn’t we all love a vampire who is so in love with us and so protective while using such restraint in not drinking our blood. What a groovy hunk (I’m dating myself I know).

After dropping Twilight into the mail I promptly moved New Moon to the top of my queue.   It arrived Thursday and my plan was to watch the it last night (Friday).  Before settling in with the movie I decided to walk the dog and then lingered outside in the garage for a while to reorganize and do some general clean up.

The sun had long been set by the time I was near ready to go inside.  That’s when heard it…  this strange sound… a snorting type sound. The kind you might hear coming from the nostrils of a large, angry bull or bear or VAMPIRE!

Our overhead mercury vapor light hasn’t been working these last couple of weeks and since we live in the country with no neighbors nearby and with the current phase of the moon a waning crescent at only 9% full it was black as pitch outside.

I stopped in the doorway of the garage to listen.  Again and again I heard this loud snort coming from the end of our driveway a mere 50 feet or so away.  In the blackness and unable to see any great distance, my childhood fear of the dark began to resurface.  Couple that with my recent foray into vampires, well it was time to make a run for the back door.  Who knew a 54-year old grandmother could move so fast?!

Once I was safely inside I relished in the fact that I’d dodged the fate of becoming one of them… on the other hand I should have lingered … Edward Cullen can bite my neck anytime.

trying something new.  I admit to having been “stuck” lately.  When it comes to my art I’ve been using the same tried and true paper, paint and brushes.  Playing it safe with familiar supplies is a fine approach and can increase the percentage of artistic successes. 

The thing is I’ve become bored and frustrated with the same-ole-same.  Frustrated with watercolor and its limitations.  Then one day a couple of weeks ago as I was doing a watercolor sketch in my Aquabee Super Deluxe sketchbook when I realized the paper was slicker than the Arches Cold Press I’ve been using for years and I liked it!

The slick surface wasn’t absorbing the paint as I am accustomed to with a surprising result - the ability to move the paint around on surface of the paper.  I was pleased with the results.  That’s when a light bulb went off - why not try different papers, different paints and different brushes while letting go of the outcome?

I remember trying slick - hot press - watercolor paper in the past and wasn’t overjoyed with the result.   The thing is my play-it-safe artistic attitude has netted me a lack of enthusiasm.   What’s more, this inclination to stay with the safe and known has robbed me of the potential for wonderful artistic adventures.

So I’m pushing forward and trying something new.  This watercolor sketch was painted on a Cason cold press paper, which seems to have the same properties as the hot press papers I’ve used in the past (as I recall).  It’s slick surface prevents the paint from becoming completely absorbed into the fiber of the paper.  After all these years I’m liking that. 

Cheap Joe’s Art Stuff carries a sample pack of watercolor paper that includes paper 9 sheets (15″ x 22″) 1 sheet of each:  Arches 140CP, Arches 140BWCP, Waterford 140CP, W & N 140CP, Lanaquarelle 140CP, Kilimanjaro 140CP, Kilimanjaro Natural 140CP, Artistico 140CP, Artistico Extra White 140CP.  I’m going to order it and stray a while into the unknown!  

Why not?  Let’s face it … Producing something bad is better than producing nothing at all!

Oh right… I wanted to let you know - joyfully - that Penny is on the mend.    Amazing really.   I thought she was dying.  Hypothyroidism - it was discovered - coupled with arthritis and a little aging thrown in for good measure.  Penny is 12 years 9 months and in dog years that’s 89 1/4 years!  I hope I’m doing so well when I’m 89 1/4 years old after the medications kick in, of course.

I’m going to admit here that I had come up with a completely different diagnosis.  After a half hour of Internet researching I thought for sure Penny had Wobbler’s Syndrome.  Serious stuff.  Armed with just enough information to make myself truly dangerous I began to question my veterinarian’s diagnosis.  After all how does 4 years of college and an additional 4 years of veterinary medicine compare with a half hour of Internet searching?!  I mean really!

To Dr. Rummel’s credit the transformation has been astonishing.  Within a couple weeks of beginning her medication Penny is a new Beagle.  She’s still experiencing some weakness in her hind legs, but she’s sniffing, begging and all around back to her old self for the most part.  She’s particularly loving that chunk of cheese each morning oblivious to the little thyroid pill tucked inside.

How lucky am I to get a second chance to show Penny how much she means to me.  So spoiling has commenced and a little brown-eyed begging machine is in residence!

As I look back over the few blog posts I wrote in June it’s obvious that I have been absent.   Absent not only from blogging, but absent from other things - painting, drawing, interacting in my world and, most importantly, dreaming.

Just a few days ago my sister mentioned, with concern, that perhaps I’d been putting my life on hold while waiting for the sale of our house.  I denied it immediately, of course, pointing out all I’d been doing, which in truth was no more than a bare minimum.

It seems my sister may be right - I have been putting my life on hold waiting for an event that I hope will trigger a new way of living.  This approach to “living” is not really living at all, but passing time while waiting. Putting everything on hold has made the waiting harder.

Truth is I don’t know when or if our house will sell.   In this economic climate it seems we’re all doing a bit of waiting and perhaps this is good lesson to bring into my future.   Patience and restraint are admirable traits.  As is marching forward without knowing with assurance where exactly you will end up.  Hmm…. I suppose that behavior could be called faith.   But nothing can be gained by allowing myself to linger in a place of non-action.

Today is July 4th (Independence Day) and I am blessed to live in a country where we have the freedom to choose.  We can choose a direction and pursue whatever dreams we may possess.  But laying down and giving up while waiting for some outside event to change things will never work.  If I truly intend to live the life of my choosing then today I need to proclaim a new beginning and exercise this gift of freedom.

So… on this July 4th it’s time to proclaim my independence and proceed into the future while remembering to exercise patience, restraint, faith and when all those fail me I will listen to the counsel of a good friend.

Happy Independence Day!

Well, the vet finally called late last Friday afternoon.  I was on my way home from work and had all but lost hope he’d be calling at all.   Perhaps he was miffed that I’d interjected my own personal diagnosis to his receptionist based on some Internet research I’d done.

In my defense, if I had received a return call promptly I would not have resorted to doing my own research online, but watching helplessly as Penny struggled to get around …  well something had to be done.

In any case, it seems Penny’s thyroid numbers have declined since her last blood workup in February.  I’ve been giving her the prescribed medication  since Saturday and am waiting to see if that’s the only thing that is ailing her.

My diagnosis was different and much more serious.  I’m hoping it is the thyroid and that Penny will be on the mend very soon.  We’ll see and I’ll keep you posted.

Penny is still about the same - very weak - and what makes this situation even more frustrating is the fact that I haven’t gotten an answer from the vet in spite of my many phone calls.

This lack of response from the vet’s office has prompted me to do a little Internet searching of my own and I believe I may have stumbled on a possible condition that “fits” Penny’s symptoms precisely.   This knowledge has put me into a bit of a which predicament.  Why, if I can find a possible answer so quickly, am I still waiting to hear from the professionals?

Penny is my “kid” and one of the kindest most gentle creatures I’ve ever met.  I understand that everyone is busy these days, but finding my vet’s office not making her the priority at a time when she needs them most maddens me beyond measure.

I’m pushing for an answer and teetering between tears and ire!