Champagne Wishes

I recently got an iPhone.  DONT FREAK OUT.

I freaked out.

Most of all, this gadget improves my communication skills from, "I can't understand your text message because it is too big for my phone.” 

to 

“Oh, hey, I love this picture of your graham cracker". 

So, I am reborn.

I found myself laying in bed fiddling with the organizational skills of “Champagne,” as I'm apt to call her, and began entering super important THINGYS into my reminder app. 

9 AM - MEDITATE

3 PM - FINISH GIANT COMMISSION

7:23 PM - FIX GIANT COMMISSION

8 AM - DRAW SNAKE HEAD

8:45 AM - EMAIL THAT ONE IMAGE WITH THAT OTHER THING I WROTE (TO THEM)

5 - something with somebody... Important.

7 - PAINT

8  - PAINT

4 PM - REWRITE SUBMISSION

4:15 PM (am.) - DONT SUBMIT TO THAT

Onward! (Sideshow 48X60)

Onward! (Sideshow 48X60)

As a young girl I always had a dream of becoming a secretary:  heavy black telephone ringing, my pencil skirts swishing, every file folder coordinated by color and alphabet letter (but also corresponding to obscure literary/lyrical references only the most poetic of secretaries might get a light laugh from), memos, secretary day, concrete notes, stamps at my disposal.

Turns out, I became a painter for a living, antithesis to the well filed life I'd dreamed of.

UNTIL THIS APP:  Color coordinated, hourly alerts, day frames, file names, a space and slot for every appointment necessary.

I like to think of myself as an organized person, I hope I am on point, timely, purposeful, mindful, clean.

So I started throwin shit into those slots.

After a week I found my reminders not "pinging" in collaboration with my studio.

Painting continues to be fluid whether I want it to or not, and it just became incredibly SATISFYING, yet confusing once put into tiny electronic print.

Tiger mouth research?  NOT IN THE SCHEDULE.

The color of small unripe eggs?  NOT IN THE SCHEDULE.

To paint a trumpet?  NOT ACCOUNTED FOR IN THE SCHEDULE.

Run out of matte medium?  WE DONT HAVE AN INTERN FOR THAT.

Mix a better shade of orange?  OUR NON-EXISTENT INTERN DIDNT PICK UP ANY YELLOW.

Wash the unclean stretch pants you keep wearing?  WHEN!?!? For the love of God, WHEN?!

And that, my friends, is the beauty of doing what you love for a living.

The Randomness of Life (Ill-Gotten Fruits 48x24)

The Randomness of Life (Ill-Gotten Fruits 48x24)

I spent a decade serving customers pancakes and refills.  Those years lie close to my heart and within an inch of deep scars, hilarity, and rage. 

I had a graphed schedule, set pay, clear expectations, and a plan. 

The joy I feel in working full time as a painter does not translate into a coherent schedule.  Money ebbs and flows. 

Expectations shift and the only plan is to keep paying attention.

New App: 'Week Spots'

Monday:  Yoga, walk dogs, take painting to local shipping shop, contemplate complicated packaging of painting, read every greeting card in the bloody place, yoga, walk dogs, find big pizza.  Take two showers in a row, BECAUSE.

Tuesday:  Dentist, walk dogs, paint, yoga, feel sad for fifteen minutes, read literature, paint, walk dogs, hideous run, Mexican food?

Wednesday:  Early rise, paint paint paint, yoga yoga yoga, random margarita, eight hundred emails, collage, lots of beers, check actual snail mail box.  Swear.

Thursday:  Can't even remember this day.  Many things happened.

Friday:  Yoga. Paint. Pay parking ticket(s).  Steal magazines from communal coffee table for collage.  YELL AT DOGS, feel terrible, wonder about everyone, write blog post, return phone call from mother.

Weekend:  None of your business.