Seduction of the Innocent

Sometimes, a new pair of boots can change a girls' outlook on life.

Hello cowgirl in the sand......

He is leaving again for another race, this time, for 10 days. 10 whole glorious days of a not so messy house, clean laundry, a tidy kitchen. 10 whole horrid days of sleeping alone in a big bed, having to deal with all the animals, and having no one but myself to complain to. 10 whole creative days of painting and playing music. 10 whole frustrating days of not having someone to listen to my music, or critique my art. Art which, at the moment, involves something called Creepy Cobwebs, little spray bottles of color, and a really big mess. There is a local show next month, and The Muse willing, I will have a couple of things to hang. Or maybe I will just paint a sign. " Wanted. Cowboy, or reasonable facsimile thereof. Must know how to ride. Maximum time needed, 10 days. Horse not necessary." Yahoo.

Things they don't teach you in art school....

Never expect a finished piece to be what you first intended it to be. Painting in the abstract takes less finesse (–noun 1. extreme delicacy or subtlety in action, performance, SKILL, discrimination, taste, etc.) than painting something that is supposed to look realistic. People are willing to pay way more for your work than the value you place on it. If you think your work is worth more, than you are mistaken. Mixing colors in oil and acrylic is far easier than with watercolors, mine always turn out looking like mud. Which is ok, if you are painting mud. Framing a piece is the most expensive part. And trying to take a photo of your work is very difficult. The colors never come out right. No wonder they say artists are temperamental. Look what we have to put up with.

Gather the horses, boys......

I knew it was just a matter of time. He got a horse. Baggy. Off the track, and a far removed decendant of Man o'War. He had been riding Baggy for over a year now, and when the owner threatened to move the horse, he couldn't let that happen. So we now have three. Jaz and Boo are quite tolerant of their new step brother. And Baggy is a laid back, happy horse.... glad for all the extra attention.

Too much of a good thing...life

I know, I have not posted anything in months. Not because my life has been static, just the opposite. The mundane world has kept me so busy that the virtual computer scene is not high on my list of priorities. But I am going thru a bit of down time now, thanks to a tumble off one of my horses last weekend. After 5 hours in the emergency room, and a trip to the orthopedic doc, the diagnosis is a seperated shoulder and a hairline fracture of my collar bone. Lovely.

Before this incident, however, I have been one happy camper. A couple of people who I missed dearly have drifted back into my life, and even though it is not as it once was, its nice. Frustrating, but nice. I have picked up my music again, and my fingers and wrists are sore from contortionistic stretches on the keyboard and guitars.

The crappiest thing about this shoulder is that it is keeping me off the horses. Until the accident, I had been riding at least once, if not twice, a day. I was at the barn this morning, and the sight of horse butts walking off into the distance, sans me, was a real bummer. But if that's all I can complain about right now, hell, I suppose I am still one lucky girl. One lucky girl with a refillable prescription for Vicodin. No need to suffer too much, right?

Some days are better than others

And today was one of the best. I am riding a high from talking to an old friend yesterday. An invitation to see people I have not seen for over a year arrived. I rode for a long time, the horse was good, and so was I. One of my dogs, who almost died last weekend, is home now, and back to his old self. And I have hit the delete button on my computer several times today, getting rid of things and people who are no longer a good thing (a process that needs to continue). I am taking action on both some short and long term goals, after finally figuring out a reasonable approach to accomplish them. I just hope this feeling hangs around for a bit. Or I could wake up tomorrow morning, and forget everything I thought of today.

Be in Peace, babies, because nothing else really matters.

Yin Yang Horse

This is Jaz. She is 4, and a most perfect little girl. I fell in love with her immediately, and bought her without ever getting on her back. She tests me, she tries my patience, she argues with me. And yet she forgives me when I am too hard on her bit, or I tighten the girth another notch. There is a special bond that can form between a woman and a horse. Luckily, I have two that give me that connection. Jaz is my source of balance when my world gets a little funky. My trainer, Miss Jennifer Juniper, says that I am her only student that sings and laughs out loud while riding. Hey, if that is my one claim to fame as an equestrian, I am more than happy to live with it.

Mask

My initial attempt at clay. Not sure I like it. It seems unfinished. Maybe I was afraid to do more to it. I couldn't even give this piece a name. One of my creative demons is the voice that tells me minimalism is better than over doing. I tend to stop before I am totally satisfied with a piece, afraid I will screw it up beyond salvage. This does not transfer over into my real life though. I am the one who always pushes the conversation, the conflict, the comments, too far. I wish I could be as restraintive with my words as I am with my art.

Lift my days, light up my nights

Must be the season of the witch

At times, one just needs to refocus a bit. Forget the armful of tax returns I have to mail tomorrow. Forget the fact that it hasn't rained, and the pastures are dry, hard and dusty. Forget the fact that my desk, and my entire house, looks as if a mess bomb has exploded. Instead, I focus on the grounding and balance that occurs when I am barefoot in the sand. The extra energy in the horses. More hours of daylight to play outside. What colors I want in my garden this year. The anticipation of seeing old friends at Fires Rising. Beltane is approaching, darlings, and I plan to celebrate it in the most appropriate way.

Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl

WTF are THESE things? This picture, along with several others, are filled with them. The photos were taken with different digital cameras, and the spots are not the same size, or in the same place, knocking out the theory of dust or water on the lens. No flash was used, so they are not reflections. And being digital, that takes away the possibility of film abnormalities. Ghost orbs? Residual energies? Whatever they are, so far, they have been quiet guests.

Baby got a new pair of shoes

These lovelies defy all explanations, and cross the line where any level of comfort is concerned. That's why I love them. Defiant shoes. Impossible shoes. Cruel shoes. Devious shoes. Shoes to be worn only when laying down.

Letting go

Sometimes, to get something, you have to give something up. I call it house cleaning...clearing out things, ideas, and people who are no longer an asset to me. And when those spaces that those things occupied become empty, it leaves a vessel to be refilled. The worth of the filling things is not always recognized, but over time, I come to realize their value. I experience this a lot when it comes to people. I put someone out of my life, and another comes along, to take me in a new direction. And they are not always new people. Sometimes, an old one wanders in. Welcome back.

A weekend of worthiness

The past few days I have been in New York, at what I shall call a spiritual conference. Those who know me could use other words to define it. But let's not go there. Not yet. I wonder if anyone will notice a difference in me. Sometimes, it's not what you take away from such events, it's what you leave behind.

Not all art is intentional

paintbox34
Originally uploaded by bat_outta_hell.

Some of my best pieces have been mistakes. It just happens. Unintentionally.

Fish

I did this piece a long time ago. For some reason, I am movitated to let others see it now.

The raping of the land

Today, the tree cutters are here, clearing off my hillside so I can put in a new septic system. Chain saws and chippers have been ripping since early morning. Loosing some of my coveted privacy is bad. The sight of perfectly healthy trees being sacrificed is worse. My only consolation is that the resulting debris and mulch will somehow bleed back into the ground, passing the now fallen trees and their energy to the earth. And all for the sake of county regulated disposal of the grey water from my house. This is fucked up.

A late nite

The next time a man keeps me up so late at nite, he better bring me orange juice in the morning.