Some of my ifyawannacallitart

Kind criticism is welcome. I haven't done any art since I was fifteen, so looking at everyone's art makes me feel pretty inadequate, but you can't learn unless you try I guess. I saw altered books online and fell in love with it. I also love to do collages. The first two images are from the first altered book I have done. The last is a collage type thing with some beading. I used acrylic pastels for the background scrapbook papers, buttons, and a vintage image I really liked.

So much to do and so little time, fudge to make, cards to write. This is a picture of my girls last year at the old house. I couldn't of course get one without them being goofy. Goofy is good. I Really hope santa brings me a digital camera this year. I used to take pictures everyday. Being broke as a joke, I haven't been able to get one. If I do I will be posting many more. My art is calling and I have no time and it makes me sad. Plus when you are wrangling anywhere from 3-5 girls at a time it makes it more difficult. If I am so busy why am I on here? I hope everyone out there has a terriffic holiday season.

Wintry wonderings

It snowed last night, but it is supposed to disappear by tomorrow. It was almost 60 degrees on Monday. I have finished my shopping, started wrapping, and have to only assemble the last of my handmade gifts for my mother's boyfriend. When we were children on the farm every year under the grape arbor we would recreate the nativity, complete with the donkey. My older brother and sister were Mary and Joseph and I was the baby Jesus until my brother Patrick arrived. Then I became the angel. When we were young we lived a life of subsistence farming, and my father worked for state youth corrections. It was endless days of chores, taking care of the animals, canning or gardening or slaughtering the meat we would eat over the winter. Somehow, in retrospect I loved that time so much more. My mother baked fresh bread and pies almost daily, and we always sat down to a family dinner. It all ended when my father got a raise that doubled his salary. Even though the work was hard, and our parents worked us to the bone, it was an honest way of life. You knew that your labor kept the family going, and although as a child there was little time for play, when it was gone there was an emptiness. We were connected, a unit all working together for a purpose. After that, we separated, and though hardly anything far from dysfunctional at any given time, when those times were gone we separated so much further. I can't believe I miss those times sometimes, the endless hot days weeding humongous vegetable gardens, getting up at 4:00 A.M. to do our barn chores before school, and also right after school. Plucking endless chickens, ducks, geese. The very sad task of slaughtering rabbits. But the warm times of a table filled with a family unit with delicious food, and unity despite the dysfunction. Barely anyone lives like that anymore. I make our family sit down together for dinner. But it is not the same.

Winter Unfunderland

It is about ten degrees today in upstate NY. The sun this time of year skips over the horizon, barely making itself known. There is a smattering of snow, and when It isn't cloudy the sun plays off the starkness of the bare trees, the leaves left frozen to the ground. I am fortunate to have a warm inviting home, my dog and cats, my thoughts to keep me company. This is a rush time of year, where christmas takes on no meaning anymore, a friend told me on black friday two women at wal-mart (aka hell) were literally duking it out over a television. I am choosing to celebrate quietly, birth and renewal in this wintry place. I decorate my home, the lights and decorations are a delight for the children, and I have made traditions for my family. I think they understand it is not just one day of presents and candy induced comas, but a time for family, friends, people we hold dear. At ime when our too busy world separates us from thise people, it is a time to gather, laugh, enjoy the time. So many more days should be like these.

Another week

This week has flown, and how I would love to be on that bird's back. I practically finished my christmas shopping, finished the collage I made for my sister, made some more jewelry. But I still have more to go. I have been feeling overwhelemed the last few days, I have a wanderlust. I want to go somewhere, do something. I cannot place my finger on it. It is a niggling feeling in the back of my head, that occaisionally comes forward. I have such a desire to create, and the lack of time, and sometimes ability to be able to sit and do it is frustrating to say the least. I have severe osteoarthritis in my back, which makes sitting with my feet down a very hard task. I rigged my beadboard onto a lapdesk so that I can make jewelry in bed and/or recliner. I saw the pain specialist this week, who has the personality of a paper bag. I have to plough through it, I have decided. Because if I do not, I wouldn't ever accomplish anything I wanted to. I hate looking at my desk from my bed, and knowing all the possibilities that are there, and all the ideas swirl, but know you cannot sit for long. I do things in small stages. pastel or paint my backgrounds, Cut out something that interests me, or multiple things, then finds bits and bobs, then arrange, rearrange, then sit and glue and paint and print. What should take a few hours or a day takes three or four, but I do get the satisfaction at the end. So maybe I shoulnd't whine. I know I shouldn't whine. Ride through it, I think that is a good motto.

Thanksgiving hangover

Ahhhhh...... The family is departed, most of the food eaten and taken with them, at my insistent almosst bordering on begging. It was a lovely day, and I saw my younger brother's wife for the first time since june. She is 27 weeks pregnant, and luckiliy one of the beautiful girls. I looked like jabba the hut, but she has that glow. They will be terriffic parents, it is easy to see. My brother has a gleam in his eye, an excitement that is palpable. He was always wonderful with my children, and since my mother has 9 grandaughters, he was the last hope for a boy, which they are having. So the Fitzgerald name will go on. It was fufilling, and I dreamed last night of babies, of my babies, I fed them, cuddled them, sang them to sleep. I felt immensly content. I started my picture for my sister, just used some acrylic pastels in a light buttery yellow and a sky blue around the border, papers and ribbons and all sorts of things will fill it. I have to get a new digital camera. I want one for christmas anyway, my birth father saves them cheap from ebay and fixes them. Maybe I can convince him to send me one. He seriously has about a dozen cameras at a time. Then I can post progress.

Froom???

Ha ha. A lot of cooking, and wanting to get back in my room and make more jewelry for christmas. I also want to work on a "gone fishing" sign for my mother's boyfriend. I found a awesome old picture of a man holding a humongous salmon and want to do some collage thingy with it. It is in my brain hopefully to come to fruition before christmas. I also want to make a collage for my sister, also using an old vintage photo of two sisters. It is all swimming in there. I can't wait to have the time to do it all.

newbie newbie

Hi all, I am joan froom upstate ny.