What was I thinking?

We decided to go to a movie yesterday, maybe it was the 36 C. degree temp and the 96 % humidity, anyhoo I picked the flick, Hancock, cause I really love everything about Will Smith; got to the wicket only to be told it did not start until Tuesday. Without pause WTF came rolling off my tongue. Husband and elderly neighbours gasped...so I said it again, WTF. What would you have done? Was I out of line? We saw Incredible Hulk instead.WTF

Sale???

I so feel like I am hosting a clearance sale of some sort. The traffic through Madonnart Studio Bead Emporium has been brisk this week if not a tad scary as the creative staff component has dwindled to 1 causing production to move at a beaders pace.That's 1/2 a snails pace to non beaders. I am beading a good 6 hours a day and today pulled out the old sweat band and carpel tunnel brace as it hit 36 degrees C. by 11:30 am. Forcing fluids, fan blowing, speaker phone on, I am in full productive flurry. Where is my trusty sweatshop slave and why is Sarah not here?

Why I love art.

Art is that element of surprise I am never ready for. When it springs out and smacks me in the face, I say....holy shit. I am never expecting the gift of art to just show up and when it does I am in total awe....it happened this morning. The necklace laying on the table caught the free form bead set stone I dropped in just the perfect spot and holy shit does it work!

Thinking about it.....

So last night I woke up with this idea.....painting idea that is....something in grey and black and kinda hidden underneath stuff. So...With a plan in my right side of my brain, I headed down to the studio early this am. to create. For those that know how I work, the process goes something like this:...Sort stuff, then clean stuff, then label stuff and then gather stuff in a pile. The gather stuff in a pile stage directly precedes the find chocolate and make coffee stage and the climax of touching paint to canvas. Stay tuned....

Poor Little girl

Today I gave the little black girl a treat at the Madonnart Spa and Salon. Poor poor little puppy. She was as brave as I was cautious right to the finish and that's when it all went horribly wrong. Clipping her nails is the last of her grooming tasks and alas became a blood sport on the last little nail. To say she bled a bit would be an out and out lie and I was so so so sorry. To tell her the quest for beauty has a cost and is often painful would simply be an insult to her intelligence which according to her daddy is huge in contrast to my dog grooming skills.