Big & Small Things Coming

My house is currently being torn apart in a few areas to deal with hidden mold. We live in the desert, but apparently that doesn't mean mold is rare. (Indeed, the local lung ailment, Valley Fever, is actually caused by dormant fungal spores in the dirt that get kicked up during dust storms and monsoons.)

On the plus side, my doctor thinks getting this sorted will address a very significant chunk of my chronic health issues. On the minus side, the house has been aesthetically Not Right for a month now and will continue to be in a state of flux until early February. I am something of a neat freak and having every room of the house be full of plastic-covered holes for drywall repair, or sealed off completely for remediation, or just tetrised to an inch of its usual existence with furniture from other areas....to say it's impacting my mental well-being is an understatement.

I've been able to keep my studio (aka the guest room) largely out of scope of this work so I have a retreat. It is also my diabetic cat's retreat. We are doing our best to keep each other calm and unruffled throughout. And at the end of all this, not only do I get a cleaner, healthier home, but I also get a refreshed kitchen. I mean, they have to demolish the kitchen to remediate some problems there anyway, so may as well bring the kitchen into this century.

I decided to do something today to help further. I'm making holiday ornaments for a flash sale over cyber weekend. (Want to be the first to know the details of the sale? Sign up for my newsletter.) These small ornaments are made of thirsty, thirsty wood, which means the paint dries quickly and allows for quicker layering. My first layer is a color gradient smear. Then it's time for some neurographic line work. (This is actually the most soothing part of the whole endeavor. Drawing these lines is very therapeutic and calming.) Embellishment comes next, and that's where I let the mood strike. Maybe some drops of alkyd oil pigments, perhaps acrylic inks speckling, or some holographic foil here and there. Finally, I add finishing touches to the piece: shiny paint for the ornament hook holes and edges and my little signature.

While these will be up for sale, they are truly an exercise in keeping my mental peace. Art often serves that purpose, whether it's my paintings or my fiction. Ideally this also translates into an end product that folks want to buy so I am compensated for the self-inflicted hours of therapy.