Snack Time

I recently signed up to receive ArtSnacks, a subscription service for art supplies. The idea behind it is that you receive a monthly box of art supplies that you might not ordinarily try, so that you branch out and try some new things artistically. It is $20 a month, and based on the first box I received, I'm not sure I'll be subscribing very long.

It's not that there's anything wrong with what I received, but for $20, I'd probably be better served by going down to my local Jerry's Artarama and just randomly picking things off the shelf! I was a little underwhelmed.

But, here's a breakdown of what I received in my first snack box:

• One Cretacolor Fine Art Graphite 3B pencil. I actually quite like this pencil. I'm much more comfortable drawing with a pencil over a pen, and this one has a really nice feel and deep charcoal color. It's definitely something I'll look for at my local shop.
• One Kurecolor graphic artist marker in Green Shadow. Meh. I'm not a huge fan of markers and the color is a bit pale and wan. This one probably won't ever get used up. I'll give it a shot in my sketchbook, just to see if I change my mind, but I'm not optimistic.
• One Touch twin marker in Rose Beige. Again...marker. But I actually like this one okay. It has a nice fine tip that makes a good solid line, and the color is pretty fresh. Would I purchase more? Probably not, but it will get used.
• One Tombow Eraser. Yeah. Well. It erases things. Yay.
• One cute little polka dotted bag for art supplies or anything, really. It's nice and compact, lightweight and expandable. It's a keeper.

I'm going to work very hard to incorporate all of the items in my sketchbook this month, but I think the pencil will steal the show. 

I'll give them another month or two, but if I don't get impressed by then, I'll unsubscribe and just make Linda go on a monthly scavenger hung at Jerry's to put together my own ArtSnack!

What have you been creating, lately?

P.S. ArtSnacks has no idea who I am, other than a name on a list of subscribers. All opinions are my own.

Do You...

• Summer was heralded by the frantic scribbling of pencils on paper, scented with aroma of eraser debris and the heady smells of mimeographed exams?
• Parents didn't scramble to find something to occupy their children during the weeks of summer vacation, they just made sure that the hosepipes were functional and the locks sturdy?
• Three bowls of sugar-laden cereal didn't seem all that excessive, and in fact were considered a well-balanced breakfast?
• Scabby knees were badges of honor, regardless of gender? Their protrusion between the hems of shorts and the tops of tube socks were a sign that trees had been climbed, hills had been conquered and bicycles tamed.
• Speaking of bicycles - do you remember wearing helmets? Me neither.
• Bologna sandwiches were excellent lunches? 
• Barbie and Ken broke up because Barbie had the hots for G.I. Joe? Or was that just at my house?
• Bottle-rockets were fired from one end of the street to the other as a part of the on-going war that was Camellia Lane? And somehow, no one lost an eye or a thumb?
• The street lights went on and everyone started running, calling out see-you-laters and same-time-tomorrows?

I do. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the street and the people on it. I remember the red rubber ball that we played four-square with. I remember calling out "CAR!" and moving out of the way. I remember my white bike with the banana seat and the white plastic basket on the front that was covered with plastic daisies.

I don't remember what my mother did. I assume she was around, but she had her own friends and her own things to do. I guess she was running errands and taking care of my little sister and gardening. And making bologna sandwiches. Sometimes they even had fried bologna on them, but only when we were being particularly good.

I wonder what my children will remember. Likely, it will be all the time spent in the car to get to this thing or that thing. They'll remember time spent hitting tennis balls and time at the neighborhood pool. But they won't remember the freedom that they had, because kids just don't have that any more. Even when I send them out to explore and ride their bikes and have a great time, they come back...there aren't any other kids out exploring. We go to the pool and it's just us and the toddlers until 4 or 5 in the afternoon, when the parents are off work and the kids can finally come out to play.

All the other kids are at day camps and day cares and math tutoring sessions and art classes and music intensives. Because summer is the time to get ahead and make up lost ground and pushpushpush so we don't get behind.

And I'm sorry for them. I'm sorry that they never shot a bottle-rocket at their friend and watched in horror as it hit the bill of his ball cap and flew straight up in the air. I'm sorry that they haven't perfected the art of manufacturing fake blood out of Karo syrup and food coloring and scaring their mom half to death with it. I'm sorry that they never got lost in the woods behind the neighborhood and worried they'd never find their way home but then realized that they were only three houses away. I'm sorry they never played kickball in the street with the four-square ball and had to quit when Jason's mom called him home early and he had to take the ball with him. 

I'm sorry they never picked up the hose when they were thirsty and just drank out of the end of it instead of coming in the house and getting water from the fridge. Because that burst of cool water, after all the hot water that had been sitting in the hose all day ran out...that was the stuff of legend - the nectar of the summer gods. And once you had your fill, you gently placed your thumb over the end and sprayed all your friends and the droplets of water hung in the afternoon heat and created prisms of light. 

And nothing was more perfect than that.

Every Day

In order to reconnect with my habit of blogging, I'm planning a post every day in May. It may be a drawing, like the crow above.

It may be a photo.

It may be a rant against society.

Who knows? The point of it is that I miss being here. I miss writing. I miss the connections I've made through the past few years of hanging out in this space.

Feel free to join me - I could use the company.

Red Means Go

I've been trying very hard to stop neglecting this part of my life, and for some reason, I found that I was getting all tense and weird every time I tried to draw directly into my sketchbook. (That's as opposed to just being all tense and weird all the time. Yes - I know I am. Shut up.) So I ripped a page out of a scrapbook kit I had lying around and drew a cardinal on it. I painted it in gouache and then stuck it into my sketchbook with some washi tape, also from my scrapbook kit. 

Once I had done that, it suddenly freed me up to do something with the rest of the spread, and I ended up painting the apple on the facing page. A few days later, I drew the tree frog and glued it in and then needed to do something to fill that last remaining space at the top of the apple page. A little typography later, and I had a completed sketchbook spread. 

Sometimes, I act as if it matters if I mess something up in a sketchbook - like it's some sort of precious thing (my preeeeshussss) that is going to be curated into the Louvre one day. In reality, it supposed to be a messy sort of laboratory, where I experiment with things. Experiments have a way of going desperately wrong, which is fantastic, because that's how you learn what you're really supposed to be doing.

None of these drawings is going to become anything more than what they are - space fillers in an overpriced bit of paper and binding. And that's perfectly fine. They don't need to be. Because they taught me something. They taught me to just scribble something on a piece of paper and stick it in a book. They taught me to stop over-thinking every single mark I make and just draw something.

How about you - what areas of your life are you neglecting because you just can't find a way to get over the hurdle of perfection? How do you jump over that hurdle? I'd love to hear!

Sunday Scribblings

Have a favorite quote you want to see on a chalkboard? Send me a message, and I'll scribble it up!