My New Red Door

Back in June, I posted about my front door getting vandalized, and how it led me to the decision to finally get the red door I always wanted. Well, here's the red door!

I finally just gave up on trying to sand it myself, and hired my friend Michael to come over and do it for me before the weather got really nasty. I love the way it turned out . . . the color is called "Red Pepper." Of course, then I decided to paint the bricks!


You see, once I really saw the color of the door, I realized that the bricks were just too dull - look at how faded they are on the right "before" section of the wall. And those white bricks always did look funny. So, I did some dry brush highlighting on the bricks with the Red Pepper paint. Then I painted the back door and the door to the shed. Now, I think it may be time to paint the garage door . . . and anything else that holds still.

The Unexpected, and Where it Leads You

When I got back from Philadelphia two weeks ago, two unexpected things happened.

The first is that an enterprising local poet/graffiti artist had carved the mysterious phrase "8XThief" into the beautiful natural wood of my front door. The second is that, as I was finishing up rescheduling all of the appointments I had missed because my return flight was delayed, I got the news that the Small Business Development Center where I work was asking me to delay those appointments by another five weeks. I, and all of the other business advisors, were being asked to take an unexpected vacation from June 15th through July 20th because the Center's funding had been cut and they simply didn't have the money to pay us.

In both cases, after a moment's exasperation, I went into glass half-full problem-solving mode.

For the door, I tried sanding the phrase out, with the idea that I could simply re-stain the wood. But the gouges proved too deep, so I tried to fill them in with wood putty. Unfortunately, this has only had the effect of making the phrase stand out in stark relief, an effect that will only be exaggerated if I re-stain the door. Ugh. I'm going to have to paint it, and cover up the wood.

Then, I start laughing. When I first bought the house, I wanted a red door. But it seemed sad to cover the pretty natural wood of the door. Now, I could paint the door red! I'll have to sand and tape and prime and paint - it'll be a heck of a lot of work, but I'll get my red door.

Now, for that other surprise. I re-scheduled my appointments and made sure that the clients who would need help while I was out were taken care of. I only work part time at the Small Business Development Center, advising other creative entrepreneurs, so it wasn't a huge financial blow. But I do spend a lot of time at it, answering e-mails, scheduling, researching for clients, meeting with clients, and doing data entry. It takes a lot of time and energy, and frankly, my own business has been suffering. I had mixed feelings - happy because I'd get to work on my own business and sad because, well, sad because the external motivation is gone. No clients clamoring for my help or thanking me.

But the last week and a half, I've had lots of time in the studio. I've gotten back in the rhythm of artmaking almost every day, back into working on my book . . . heck, I'm even working on some new tutorials for the blog. And I'm loving it.

And I almost have to laugh out loud. I'm getting to paint, to make art all day, to think about what it means to be creative, to come up with new class ideas. I'm getting to do what I've always wanted to do - I'm getting to be a full time artist. It's a lot of work, it's a huge risk, and it's totally terrifying. When the chance for the job came along, I took it because it looked interesting, challenging, a good learning experience, and yes, it was a safety net of sorts.

Just like the front door.

And now I'm wondering if I want to go back.

In the Garden

Art-making can be a really in-your-head kind of thing . . . and that's part of why I have been so happy for the last few weeks of sunny days. It's gotten me out of the studio and into the yard. As Michael5000 so eloquently pointed out in his recent Portland gardening post, not doing anything with the yard means that things will get completely out of control - not that they will die. Getting out there after months of rain, I discovered that my yard had been invaded by some kind of sticky-burr-crawling-vine thing and several kinds of weird grasses, along with the usual blackberries and ivy. Nice plants, I'm sure, but lets face it - they can be bullies.

Of course, there were also these big white puffy flowers:

Which are sitting in a vase outside because they also happen to be covered in ANTS! ack.

But it does get me out of my head a little bit, back into my body - and sneezing. Lots and lots of sneezing. And swinging. My friend Michael was able to reinforce the crazy wonderful play structure in my back yard so that it will hold a %$! pound adult, and I stained it the same color as the deck, and voila. Swinging heaven.



I've also planted tomatoes and calla lilies and a few sedums and chard. Not all in the same place, but all with sneezes. I can deal with the sneezes.