Here, there and everywhere

"Can you give me an idea of how long it takes to drop in another font? Is it like on a standard computer where you just highlight it and it drops it in so you can try different ones? If it takes hours I don't want to play with it any longer but if it is seconds like on my computer I would like to try something else."

Here in Southern Oregon, there seems to be an unlimited amount of employment opportunities for transportation and road workers. I'm reminded of this watching this mornings' news and footage of a rock slide on 199, the two lane to the coast. Multiple dump trucks working overtime to clear the path, projected to require days and over 200 loads until cleared. Scores of men in hard hats and day glo vests pushing around rocks and dirt with big boy toys and collecting fat checks. I'm thinking I'm in the wrong profession. Creative opportunities here are as scarce as hens teeth and appreciation for something well designed is practically non existent. Every job seems to come with either a silver lining or a workshop I didn't sign up for. Been working on a logo for two months now, once again I went overboard to please the client submitting rounds of designs, font modifications, client directed revisions and add a daughter in Sweden, a marketing professional that apparently needs to review my work as well, and I bet you have guessed which one this is.
In 1996 when I moved to this area from San Francisco, my friend and mentor Adam Brevius was heading to Southern California to work for Disney. He had attended college in Eugene, Oregon and wisely suggested I reconsider my plan to move to this area. He warned me, that this area was spectacularly devoid of creative positions and said that if down the line I wanted a job at least consider somewhere North of here. At the time I had multiple ongoing clients, three newsletters I did illustrations for and royalties from stock illustration sales. I was married and the novelty of moving to the country and living the rural life on 'the farm' with a computer to connect me to the "real world" thrilled me. Twelve years later, divorced, managing a high maintenance property on my own, and looking for a job, I can say yes Adam you were right.
I love living in Southern Oregon, the beauty of the area is only surpassed by my need for creatively satisfying work. It may be that this will be a silver lining after all because I think if nothing else I will start looking in earnest for a job back in the Bay Area where clients don't think design decisions take seconds and Logo designs shouldn't cost more than a hundred dollars.

Anonymity and its Virtues

I have been negligent with my blog, an entire month has flown by without a single post, not that I haven't attempted one. I can't get past my lack of inspiration, further motivated and matched by the weather. I really should not be whining about the weather, not that I'm whining. Outside of the Pacific Northwest, its been a Winter Wonderland, but here in this neck of the woods where that is normal... outside of ...'Theres no such thing as Normal- other than a setting on a dryer', we have had either spring temps or days of pouring rain and only a glimpse of snow back in the very beginning of December. My trusty snow shovel, which my Brother packed with him when he drove cross county a few years ago in the winter has shoveled and flung nothing but dog doo for months.

I have been working this month on a couple design jobs and getting over the disappointment of one, being denied a refinance by B of A, and two not getting a PT job I really wanted and tried like crazy to get. Life goes on, disappointments and all. The silver lining, no one has missed me, two people following my blog three counting my Brother, anonymity does have its virtues... the silver lining to the crazy weather: buds on the lilac bushes, birds singing in the morning and I guess one can post about nothing at all after all.

Show and Tell

Much of what has occupied my time these days, both mundane and work related has quietly conspired to keep me from my blogging desires. Darla, my client at The Train Depot Restaurant needed someone at the last minute for First Friday art night and I committed to create some eclectic Valentine Collages, and the more I work on them the more eclectic they get. I will start hanging the ones I have done so far tomorrow evening and be working on more until the opening reception this Friday the 5th. Live music will be happening and some awesome food is always cooking.
Other bitties, last week Ms Kitty got fixed after one week of her first heat and I won't even mention some of the slutty behavior going on around here at the Kinky Dog and Kitty show. A big thank you to the JoCo Spay and Neuter Fund for helping me out with the expenses, I will be doing some graphics in return and looking forward to giving more than I got. That is how it works...
That's all for now folks. Hope to see you this Friday night!

Necessity and reinvention

Art imitates Nature, and Necessity is the Mother of Invention.

[1658 R. Franck Northern Memoirs (1694)

In college, I had a hard time deciding which painting or illustration style fit me, I was a creative chameleon. As students we were strongly encouraged to focus on one specific direction and stick to it, diversity in your art or your portfolio and God forbid, no one would associate your name and your art. Truth be told, out of necessity, I have had to refocus and reinvent myself frequently over the years.
I love working in different digital styles, and learning new technology or software, discovering that what I initially stressed over, is actually a good thing. As is the fact that I don't have to decide am I an illustrator or a designer, it means I can integrate both to my advantage.
Recently recommended for a calendar illustration job, the client thought my digital style of illustration was too hard edge, past calendars had been rendered in a painterly style. So I offered to break out my pastels in storage and do some hand drawn samples. They liked what I did, giving me the go ahead to finish.
When traveling across country in 1977, my camera broke halfway to the West Coast. I didn't expect to land in Southern California on an avocado farm with a couple months to kill until leaving for Europe. I thankfully settled into a place of warmth and extraordinary beauty -with no art supplies and limited funds. Out of necessity I started tearing apart brown bags from the supermarket and I bought these same few pastels recently unearthed to document my surroundings...nature + art + necessity and just another random reinvention on the wheel of art and life.

Revolution and Resolutions

"A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear"

John Lennon

Two days from Christmas and I have been thinking about this past year, (and the one ahead), the losses, the gains, resolutions, accomplishments ...and the unfinished projects. What truly matters and what divides us, friends, countries and how it plays out overseas in the name of war, or here at home in the political drama waging over healthcare. Fearful uncertainty is prevalent and it takes a mindful attitude to live in the moment- hopeful and happy, at a time when bankruptcy is potentially a medical emergency away, or losing a job means losing your home and everything you have worked for and more. I remind myself to concentrate on what counts, and whats icing on the cake, like family and friends. I am so grateful to have the creative work I have been blessed with this year and a loving relationship of substance and support. I lost Maggie, my beloved border collie in February and then adopted another in June. Thanks to Facebook, my circle of friends has expanded, and as a result of Alzheimer's my Mother lost a little more of her mind and beautiful spirit. It is nothing short of providence to have my Brother back home taking care of her, his loving patience -challenged daily by a lack of appreciation, is simply beyond measure.

Looking ahead, instead of unrealistic resolutions I hope to start the new year with the best intentions: less stuff for starts, no more garage sales or treasure hunting the thriftshops - my cup and barn overflows. I'm embracing a 'less is more revolution'.
I reap what I sow... therefore I channel and commit to cultivate and nurture a positive attitude daily. My serenity haiku, "Don't worry be happy, The inbox will always be full, The only thing to fear is fear itself". Its the mental affairs in life that are the hardest to control and the truth is, its all we can control - unless like my Mom its totally out of your control. In her case, there is a pill to slow it down - but not one to understand it, change it or fix it - or the accompanying depression.
My desire is to end 2009 with compassion and understanding, and to look ahead to 2010 with hope and trust.
Peace on earth, goodwill to everyone.
May we all live without fear, and continually count our blessings that surround us.

MO'regon and beyond...

After revisiting my trip to Myrtle Creek in 1995 in my last blog post I have thought about the random decisions that sometimes have unpredictable and life changing consequences. I still question what gave me the moxie to ask my client Annamarie that day if I could stay at their vacation home in Oregon. I do remember needing to get out of the city, road trips allowed me to be a balanced and happy urban dweller in San Francisco, and those days I was up and down the West Coast from Baja to Seattle in my little Honda hatchback. Gas was cheap back then and a trip of substance was accomplished on a shoestring.
When she said yes and added "you are welcome to take the dogs", in a New York minute I was mentally packing and planning my music for the drive. The girls were, as my friend Martina says, "outside of themselves" to be in the country. Everyday spent there that week was foggy but simply gorgeous. I had packed my watercolors to paint and the house was stocked with wood to burn and paperback books to read. I didn't want to leave, and twice extended my stay, exploring the countryside ...when I wasn't buried in a novel or hiking their land.
I had recorded a few cassette tapes for the drive, one got stuck in my car tape deck playing over and over an odd mix of Screaming Jay Hawkins on one side and Roger Miller on the other, (funny how music emotionally connects you with certain times and situations)... 'I Put a Spell on You', started one side of the tape and then 30 minutes later I'd be singing along with 'Trailer for Sale or Rent'. I clearly recall the death grip I had on my steering wheel driving Interstate 5 sandwiched between semi trucks first over Mt Sexton then the equally harrowing Siskiyou Pass. I don't think I ever listened to that tape again after returning home from that trip and getting it out of the unit.
That trip was the deciding factor for my move North.
My move to the West coast from New York was equally random. I probably should back track to my adventure hitch hiking cross country from New Orleans to Oakland and the motivating decision, but I'll save that for another post.
It was at a New York City Christmas party in the winter of 1977, and I ran into an acquaintance from college. He had been living in San Francisco and wanted to move back to New York, I had just returned from a six month trip to Europe and wanted to return to the West Coast. In spite of the fact that I had just spent three months hunting down an apartment and only moved in a short three weeks earlier, we joked about swapping apartments, and with hardly a phone conversation, two months later I was driving across country with two fantastic guys I connected with via a classified ad in the Village Voice, delivering a Stella Dora bread truck to San Diego with a fraction of my belongings packed in the back.
Phillip introduced me to a few of his friends in San Francisco before he headed back East to my apartment on the lower East side of Manhattan, and I settled into his rent controlled apartment in the Castro district, my lifestyle radically different from the one I left behind, along with all my friends and a relationship that had ended.
Supersize one door closes and another door opens ...and skip the fries.

Fire and Rain

I've seen fire and I've seen rain,
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end...

The summer sunshine is of course a distant memory and the drone of icy rain rattles my windows along with the random squeal of tires skidding on the curve outside my driveway. Its a dangerous corner and when icy, cars easily underestimate the drop and bend and can go completely off the road or wind up nose first into the oak tree that once was. After two days without power except for a few brief respites, I am so grateful right now to have lights, internet, water flowing and the heater humming at my side. The temperatures have been hovering in the teens, coldest its been in eleven years.
Meanwhile, a blazing fire burns in my woodstove while I work.
My downstairs studio is a sweet space and currently unrented, it feels so cozy complete with two creatures cuddling and yes, holding hands in front of my warm and crackling' fire. I have missed the process of building a fire, the upstairs has a propane fireplace, a flick of a button activates the fake flames rippling behind some faux logs that resemble a pair of petrified steaks.
When I lived in my cute little cottage in San Francisco on top of Potrero Hill, after a few years I installed a Franklin stove. Along with my gravel driveway, ample parking, and drop dead views, it was a one of a kind rental for where it was. I lived there for thirteen years, fixing the place up from the funky shack it was when I moved in, to a place few of my friends could believe I was leaving behind for rural Oregon. Back then, I was the only one I knew in the city with a wood burning stove, and after some research, found a wood lot in South San Francisco I would drive to every month in the winter and load the back of my Honda hatchback with 20 dollars of wood.
In 1996 did the math on the rent times thirteen, and decided I could have bought a place, and so the hunt began. Up the coast of California from Bolinas to Mendocino, fueled by the roof that had started to leak in earnest and the fact that one of my aging dogs was having trouble negotiating the three stairs to the backyard.
It was the week that Bill Clinton was elected President, a rainy week spent at a clients' family house up in Myrtle Creek, Oregon that was the deciding factor.
It rained all week, and a fire burned in the woodstove, it was as good as it gets, and on the way south stopping to visit a friend I picked up a newpaper, and the rest was history. Six months later I was moving into this place where Stella could enter without steps to fall on, and I could rent the downstairs if I needed to.
Each winter I think about relocating to someplace warm and sunny and wonder if I can tough it through another Oregon winter, counting the days until Spring rolls around.
Brrrr, time to stop whining and make a fire!