one sticker, please

my head is so achey and i don't know how i will conquer tomorrow.
then again, i didn't know how i was gonna conquer today,
but it happened.
so there.


in my basement

i have been dragging my feet on grading these midterms because i despise grading.
it's taken me pulling my own teeth to get me down to this basement. 

but now that i'm here, i'm just like, waaaaait a minute. 

i do you know what i love? 
i love figure drawing. 

and do you know what else i love? 

and do you know what else i love? 

i get to teach figure drawing to people. 

i get to inspire others and show them how to do one of the most difficult and complicated and foundational processes of art -- and i get to be the one to believe in them. i get to be the one to say, hey. you can do this. and here's how. and that's pretty freaking rad.

so you know what? i'm happy to be in my basement.



just when i think i have it all together,
i sorta lose it again. 

these next/last few days (weeks? months? time eludes me...) have been really crazy. 
and then i wonder, has there been a time in my life i haven't claimed that?
and under my jaunty smile, 
i frown a little. 
is that okay? 

i don't know. 

i was thinking about it just now as i'm late to sit in on another professor's figure drawing class
(have i told this blog that i'm teaching figure drawing this semester at my old university?)
and i was like...wow. i need to switch roles a lot faster these days. 
well, switch mindsets. 

yesterday i needed to be a full-time daughter. that isn't required often of my gracious mother but yesterday it needed to happen. and i'm grateful things are okay.
but today i'm a little stressed about beginning the anatomy unit in my figure drawing class. and my students' midterms are today. so today: full-time instructor. focus on that all day. til after class when i have another commitment. 
and then tomorrow, full-time instructor as i figure out how i'm going to teach the provo art club head drawing. 
and grade my students' midterms. 
and tomorrow night, i'll be a recipient of someone else's art. a concert attendee. hopefully. and hopefully that'll fill my well a bit....and won't leave me too sad. 

the next day? art instructor again. to teach the art club. 
and after that: photographer. photoshoot. stoked about that. but a tad rusty. hoping that the photoshoot i did a few weeks ago will energize that. 
and after that: another social commitment. 

and then monday: work on graphic design project. in fact, all week: toggle between roles of graphic designer for two graphic design projects and figure drawing instructor for again--hardest subject to simplify: anatomy. 

all of this, tring to clear my schedule so that i can be an "artist" -- the painting and drawing kind, since i have the privilege of being in the beehive bazaar and 75% of my stock needs to be original artwork ready to sell. most of which i have yet to  create. 

and um...i have carpal tunnel and tendinitis in both wrists. so i have to make sure i don't overdue it. 

and i'd really like to do music again. that's pulling at me. there's an opportunity to perform a little thing on march 21 (the same day i substitute teach a 6-hour long figure drawing class). 
also there are social things i flit between too. 
you know. 
that's normal, right? 

i'm feeling very incapable of being normal sometimes. 
and simplicity.
such a beautiful concept that somehow always eludes me.

{via here}

...artist: amiright?

maybe i can simplify my artistic life at least. 
if not in the jobs, 
the job descriptions? 

so it's sort of like i switch between things, especially in the artistic sense so fast: artist/art instructor/different kind of art instructor/graphic designer/photographer/back to designer.....and i'm just thinking: perhaps i need to just start to consider myself as a "creator". with different mediums. would that simplify the thought process? 

lemme try.....

hey. i'm kristin.
i create things. 

some days with charcoal, some days with nupastel, others with paint....

yeah. that sounds good. 

so this week, up on the dock, starting today it goes like this:

i    w i l l    c r e a t e    w i t h :

thursday-- food (breakfast), written words (this post), conte (practice), the copy machine (lessonplan),  energy / spoken words / conte (my classroom)

friday-- conte (practice), creativity (lesson plan)

saturday-- spoken words / conte, colored pencils, (art club lesson), camera (photoshoot) 

monday-- lightroom (photo editing), adobe suite (junta project), adobe suite (bom zine project), etc etc....

see, even that is way more complicated than it needs to be. and this post went on a free ramble way longer than i originally intended. and i'm not even gonna go back up and read it before i publish. bad idea? probably. but hey, at least it's something. 

take that, perfectionism. 
simplicity...i'll get back to you later.



today was a self-date day. had a really good experience. then i headed up to the sprague branch library; this is the last week of my art show. i hadn't been there to see my art since my opening reception at the beginning of january. i arrived at the room as a meeting was getting out, and i quietly observed as a few people looked at my art. then i followed suit. it's been a while since i've really studied those pieces. the following experience happened and this is how i recorded it in my journal app on my phone--

just checked on my art. it was a weird feeling this time for some reason. like a parent checking on a kid in his college dorm or something.

i picked up the comment book and decided to only read one comment
(i'd read the rest when my show came down)--
it was a pretty negative one.
not terrible...but sort of negative.
so i put the book down. perplexed. it stung a bit.

then i picked it back up again and wrote a note to myself in there.
so i kept my rule, then i added more.

because today, i attempted to look at my art, as best as i could, from the eyes of someone who didn't create it. i figured i was entitled to write my opinion in there, too, even if it was the result of being slightly bruised from someone else's.

sometimes it's nice to make your own rules.


little un-valentines

dear headache: frankly, you were not the valentine i wanted to wake up to this morning. but that was cute of you to try.

dear motivation to get stuff done: you stood me up, man. were you today?

dear good intentions: thanks for being there--so many of you vying for my attention--though perhaps next time you and motivation could have a little chitchat so we could make something happen.

dear teen girl squad valentimes episode: i will always love you.

dear valentine cards: maybe i'll make you tomorrow. .. . ..but maybe not. i promise--it's me, not you.

dear valentine's day: usually i try to make you into something awesome and personal -- about loving people in general, regardless of whether or not i have a "valentine". well. there is a first time for everything and this year just wasn't our year. i sang a bunch and warmed my fingers up to those steel strings again but didn't really put smiles on the faces of anyone like i wanted to. my night was headed downhill--but i will have you know, i gussied myself up anyways, took a picture to prove it, marched to the grocery store, bought two ingredients and marched myself right back home again, probably passing most the social gatherings i was planning on attending. some years you just don't feel it. luckily, you're an annual sortofa holiday.

dear desiderata: you were the perfect read to end my wearisome night. you'll probably get your own post later for that.

believe it or not, this photo actually underwent fairly little editing. it was a great night for moodily lit self-portraits.


on holding mugs

i was just reading the scriptures while sipping some warm citrus water. i realized that because i'm cold, i was subconsciously clutching my oversized mug up to my chest in between sips so that it would help me stay warm. problem was, the more i drank, the less warm the mug got.

i remember this problem in mexico as well, as we were so cold all the time in our apartment and our best hope of heat at times was the warm drinks we would make. the key to warm drinks was to always keep the mug full because the mug didn't hold any inherent heat. it would only contain the heat brought on by the liquid inside. so the key was to both hold it close as well as drink it so that it our skin would be warm and so would our insides...but to always refill the mug. because if we didn't refill the mug, it was soon be empty and we would be holding something neither hot nor cold. it would do is no good without the warmth inside. however, if we held on for it too long without drinking it, it would become cold anyway.


you can't hold on to potential; you must do something about it. 

likewise, you always have to be refilling your [creative/spiritual/personal] container with new things for it to be most effective. water was good; warm water was helpful.


melancholy with a dash of hope

everything is frozen today.

it's bright and super sunny, but there is a certain still all around though the roads still have signs of life.

i tried to make the hour and a half drive up to see a dear friend come home from her mission today, as well as other friends i haven't seen since i came back from my, well, mission of sorts last week.

it started out clear but as i drove (exceeding the speed limit by you know, a more than marginal amount...), the sky turned from blue to grey. the air went from clear to clouded. and soon i couldn't see more than 50 or 100 feet in front of me. i slowed my car and felt a small foreboding feeling, but i kept on.

soon though, i knew i'd have to turn back. it was ridiculous--i couldn't see a thing in front of me, and every road sign that appeared was a surprise until it was right in front of me. the sun, however, was a tiny but perfectly clear circle high above me. i wondered why it wasn't helping more with my vision. with a bit of a heavy heart, but one that was willing to listen to my head for once, i turned off the next exit and re-directed my route to head back where i'd come from.

i made it back right in time to catch my own ward's meeting. it felt good to be back and i couldn't have picked a better meeting to welcome me back to my utah home and church.

however, as i walked out of the building alone into the cool, fresh air, pulling my scarf tighter around my neck, small sense of sadness tugged at my heart a little. my eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion.

i missed.

that's what the feeling was, i think.
is, really.
it's a familiar feeling.
i missed them.
the kids.
the friends.
the people.
the place.
the lifestyle.
in mexico, of course.

i found myself wishing i'd have hugged the kids more often
(even though i did it quite a bit; it was one of my favorite things to receive from them)
because i really missed that.

but then it extended into other people i'm missing.
people who have quietly stepped out of my life for some reason or another;
i missed them.

i drove along, reflecting as i did.
turned on some album leaf, which is the closest to sunday music i had.
it was a good choice for my mood.
and the day did its best to reflect my feelings.


everything in my life is pretty straight forward right now.
sort of like that freeway.
just go straight, and go on for like 86 miles, and eventually i'm supposed to turn a couple times.
but sometimes that super thick fog comes up and it's hard to see past my own nose.
but i can't really turn around so i just have to remember to let the light lead, even when it feels dim.


i contemplated writing this on the way home because i felt the familiar urge to process these particular feelings today, but i knew words wouldn't do it this time. they haven't really. though i felt like i had to try, which is what i did above.

so there you have it.

the only solid thing that came to me regarding how to express my current feelings were the words i used for the title, and a vague image i had in my head. i'll draw it real quick (i'm curious to see what it looks like) and post that, too.


okay i drew it. i was going to work on it more, but i don't really want it to be more than this. and it looks a little sad. but i'm not.

well, i'm not sad per say, i'm just missing.
just a moment of melancholy, if you will, but with a dash of hope.