Welcoming

My kid, he's so creative. 

Little guy: "Make me food." Seriously, I did teach him how to ask nicely when he was a really little guy.

Me: "Make your own food." I put my earbuds in and continued listening to a podcast I'd started earlier.

Well, that little guy of mine picked up my phone and basically lead me by my earbud cable "leash" to the refrigerator. 

He gets points for creativity, but I have to say that he bombed on the mom making him something to eat part and he went ahead and nuked himself some queso.

This painting is part of the class I'm taking. The dragonfly (or maybe it's a butterfly, you decide) is leaving behind things/feelings/etc. that I'm letting go of and the sun is filled with what I want 2016 to be welcoming in. Most of the writing is illegible. That's by design. 

I love doing zentangles, though I rarely do them. Such a wonderful process, all of it! 

This painting is part of a year-long online art class (instructor Tamara LaPorte). 

"Welcoming"

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Catching some Dreams

I hardly ever win anything.  Really, it's quite rare.  But recently I won two totally different, totally amazing online art classes...one that focuses on dreams and the other is a season pass to a bunch of different awesome classes.  I'm so honored and excited!!  You'll likely see some changes in my upcoming pieces as I dive into trying new things, thinking new thoughts, and exploring new mediums.

OK, so what's funny is that ever since the dream class went live, I've been remembering my dreams.  Usually I wake up, go about my day, and am unfazed by my dream life.  But these days I wake up conscious of what I've dreamt, more often than not.

And, by golly, they've mostly been about school.  Just like when I was a kid.  And, by George, they've mostly been about forgetting something or getting something terribly wrong.  Really like when I was a kid.  Only adult style...as in, "I'm the teacher now."  Here's a taste.  Note:  please only send me your interpretations if you think my dreams indicate that I'm brilliant, amazing, and wonderful.  None of that crazy lady stuff, deal?


• My former student was actually my age, but still looked four-years-old, and I had to give her a ride to San Antonio because her feet wouldn't reach the pedals.

• My classroom was actually in a basement, with no supplies, steam hissing from pipes above, and parents dropping their children off seemingly unconcerned.

• Oh, and yes I did wear my pajamas to school.  Not traumatic at all, just comfy, thank you very much.


Excited to see what tonight will bring!

NFS

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