It's Friday . . . and what's in a Face?

Look at those eyes! 

As close as the closest of friends . . .

Look at that nose! 

It starts where a good nose ends . . .

--Look at that Face, from The Roar of the Greasepaint

One of my favorite possessions, a small oil painting study from the 1920's, 

found UNDER SOMETHING ELSE(!) when I bought an old frame.

Today's the dreaded day I come to 
 -- in every piece  --

where I have to add the face.

You see, some just turn out so much BETTER than others.  Very often, they don't look anything like my drawing.  Very often, they don't communicate what I wanted the piece to say.

A man's face is his autobiography.  

A woman's face is her work of fiction.

-- Oscar Wilde

Occasionally, they're JUST RIGHT and then everybody's happy.  I wish I had a little more control, of course.  I'm not sure why I don't.

A few facts:

1) I find that I don't breathe while I'm stitching faces
(this could be part of the problem!)

2) The prices for my pieces are often directly connected to how much face work is involved (in case you ever wonder why artists price the way they do, that's one part of my formula:)

+

  

Lips + eyes = $$$

3) Even worse than trying to apply a face to one of my pieces is trying to take one off.  (The un-picking can take longer than stitching it on in the first place, and of course one must worry about scarring!)

I noticed that one of my favorite artists, Cathy Cullis, has started a personal 365 challenge that puts Small Works' Happy Thought to shame (in terms of level of difficulty). Check it out.  Every day she is sculpting a little face, and she is posting photos on her site.  I look forward to following her project.  And I can't wait to see the picture when they're all grouped together!

Are we to paint what's on the face, 

what's inside the face, or what's behind it?

-- Pablo Picasso

I guess Picasso hit it on the head -- or on the face -- with that line, because portraying what's behind the face is exactly what I'm after.  The face tells the story. 

For instance, as a kid you can tell a lot about what kind of day
it's going to be by the look on your mother's face.

God has given you a face, 

and you make yourself another.

-- William Shakespeare

All I know is, I wish I could ask a higher power to make TODAY'S face.   But either way, I'll let you know how it goes. Actually, you'll know just how it went when you see the look on the face.

(Happy Friday.)

Wednesday, January 12 . . . A drama in two parts.

    
 The studio is cleaned . . .

My desk has been unearthed . . .

An excavation was necessary, in order to 

uncover a work surface so I could begin a new project.

Unfortunately, I had no one to blame but myself.  And Christmas, of course.  Yes.  We'll blame Christmas!  Which means it must be January . . . and we find ourselves slogging along resolution's dark and lonely lo-cal path. (For which we'll also blame Christmas.)

 

Note: For the record, I neither

baked the cookies 

nor put them in her mouth.

    

(I do not wish to split hairs.  How ever it
happened, we find ourselves here.)

 

It feels like it.  But it's not about looking slim.  It's about fitting in my lucky black show pants by the end of February.  The fact that I have to diet myself back into them every time I do a show SHOULD be a clue that perhaps it would be easier to just buy a new pair of pants.  So far, my results have been less than impressive.

Our mornings chez Hinckley go something like this:

"I lost another three pounds overnight!" 

 

Meanwhile . . . I'm eagerly looking . . . for any sign at all . . .

 

I'm happy for him.  Really.  Men are just wonderful in most ways, but in weight loss they're nothing short of annoying.  I seem to spend half the month re-losing what I gained during the half of the month where my body was hoarding water and craving carbs because Mother Nature thought for some reason it was a good way to organize the universe.   

But it has crossed my mind 

that perhaps I could even things up somehow . . .

Yes . . . perhaps an extra six tablespoons of sugar and half a stick of butter 
in that oatmeal he's so fond of . . . 
that could  do the trick . . . and he'd never suspect a thing. 

 

What kind of wife would possibly 
resort to sabotage, when 
her husband's health 
and well-being are at stake?!



   

     

A January wife.


(Nurse, we need that new "Happy Light", STAT!)





 

Yes, Doctor . . .
Would you like 

guacamole with that?

   


  
  

        

Snow in Atlanta? Ah, the fickle hand of fate . . .

 
Hooray!  My piece is finished! 

 
Granted, it was supposed to be finished by the end of December, and it's already January . . .

What?!  

It's January TENTH??!!

Oh well, so I'm running a little behind.  

That's okay -- I'm not yet to where I'm 

jettisoning projects from the Baltimore To-Do list.

As for the piece, as an introduction 

let me remind you of these:

I'm not sure which specific cards (of the 50) will be included in the frame, but a nice selection of them will be scattered around this piece:

The Hand of Fate Cannot Deal Happiness, Susan M. Hinckley, 2010

The button on the sleeve is an absolutely marvelous antique rhinestone that came in a box with some of my grand & great-grandmother's things.  I've been saving it for just the right project.  I tried hard to capture the time period of the cards with the floral motif.  I'm pretty happy with how this turned out and think it's going to look great when it's framed up with the cards!

Thanks again to the dear reader who shared them with me (don't worry -- I haven't forgotten you!)  

I hope Ms. Fate is treating you all kindly this snowy January Monday, my friends.  

And now . . . Laundry calls!

(Yes, laundry remains, as ever, my Monday fate . . .but I shall choose to be happy anyway. 
Well -- probably not THAT happy,because I think she may be crazy.)

   

Thank Goodness It's Friday Favorites Time!

   
And T.G.I. (the first) F.F.T. of 2011, 

because it means I get to share the work of one of my
favorite artists in the world with you, dear friends!

Since she was here over the holidays, 

I had access to the first installments of Hannah's work for 

The Sketchbook Project, something the organizers describe as being 

"Like a concert tour, but with sketchbooks."

When you receive your blank book, they also assign you a theme.  
Hannah's theme is "In Five Minutes."  
I was absolutely delighted by her work so far, and hope you will be, too!  

And so without further ado -- and in no particular order -- here are her first 12 creations:

If I never sew another thing, 
I can be happy knowing that I launched 
a truly creative force into the world 

(with the help of her dad, of course.)  

Great work, Hannah!
  

Just can't wait to see where that 

magic sketchbook takes you next . ..

See Hannah's etsy shop here!

  

   

It's Wednesday . . . "Where've you been?!"

 
I'm not exactly sure how I ended up going AWOL when Small Works should have been here "ringing in the new" with all of you, Dear Readers . . .

but there are several indicators that things have been a little off around here.  For one thing, it came to my attention (several days after the fact) that I had wished all of you a happy 2012 in the post I did manage to make.  I've been feeling a little disoriented, for heaven's sake, but not a full year off!

Then I noticed that I had used the same illustration twice over at Happy Thought.  It's getting a little trickier, now that I'm nearly 300 days into the project, and obviously my January-brain-mush is just barely up to the challenge.

Luckily, Santa saw fit to surprise me with this:

Some might be offended to receive a "happy light" from Santa; I, on the other hand, was delighted that Santa knows me so very well.  And I think we can all agree that a little extra light at this point can't hurt.


But wandering around in a fog has not made me immune  to considering all the possible avenues of self-improvement that are somehow so readily apparent at this time of year.  Of course there have been all of the usuals:

Hooray!  Vegetables!

and I'm pleased to report that it's already Wednesday and I haven't yet eaten a single cookie. (Of course, I started that particular goal on Monday, having exhausted every last crumb of the Christmas cookie supply on Sunday night, but I'm still viewing it as an accomplishment.)

And it may just be that the turning 

of the calendar to January 

triggered some kind of primal panic about the unmistakable menace of the looming Baltimore show, but I felt the best goal I could aim for this year would be more work.

And that would mean, of course, less time at my computer.  

Curiously, that is the goal I've seen mentioned most by persons of our particular ilk -- of course, I've seen that goal mentioned while perusing all my favorite blogs and clicking my way around facebook, which in and of itself points to the fact that I may not quite be ready to throw away the keyboard.

If only there were a pill that would allow me to keep surfing while the drug built up in my body
so I could quit g-r-a-d-u-a-l-l-y . . .

Never having had to quit smoking, I'm not sure whether that's an approach that actually works, but I am sure there would be money to be made with such an invention.

I did read about a new software program called Freedom that shuts off one's internet access for a designated time every day, perhaps the only possible solution for an artist such as myself who is helpless in the face of my addiction.


Time-wasting and procrastination were not invented with the internet, however, and I fear that as the internet so neatly replaced baking as my favorite delay tactic, something new would arise to fill the keyboard's hole just as quickly.

My favorite thing I've seen on the subject 
is an anecdote about Victor Hugo, 
who used to work in the nude, 
telling his valet to hide his clothes 
so as to prevent him from going outside 
when he was supposed to be writing.

That might be the only sure cure, seeing as how it is approximately ZERO degrees most of the time these days, and I would in no way be tempted to venture out without clothes.  But on the other hand, I could type blog posts au naturel and no one would be the wiser . . .

I know.  Bad visual.  

Sorry about that.   

Don't worry --  I'm just going to put this computer to sleep for awhile and try something novel like threading a needle (while remaining fully clothed).

Happy Worky-Wednesday!



   

 

Where's Susan?

It's a valid question.  

She may be busy either:

a) making resolutions

-or-

b) breaking resolutions

Or she could be doing none of the above.  Cleaning up Christmas?  Painting the upstairs?  Building truckloads of furniture from IKEA?  Panicking about everything she's not getting done?  

Take your pick.  

But whatever she's doing, Small Works WILL be returning soon.  (Hope your 2011 is off to a smashing start!)