Life is Slippy

 I know that's not a proper word but it just may be the best way to describe how someone can forget to do something for more than four years.  Life is slippy.  A whole lot has happened since the last post including many more projects, adventures, tragedies, art explorations, and, unfortunately, aging in general.  So, I'll try to do this chronologically but I'll likely get a few things out of place here and there.

First, an update from the last post:  The basement living space is complete and the now-near-adult-age child and his friends have certainly been using it as I hoped.  The book shelves filled up quickly with a bunch of, you guessed it, books.  But in addition to that, we added a new turntable to music machine options and the collection of vinyl has grown, not to mention the collection of board games.

The Den

In addition to the extra living space, I also finished up a basement bathroom which is currently being used by the kid and his ilk but makes for a good second toilet when you really need it.  Much of the materials used were salvaged or repurposed.  Like the dartboard backing, I used a barrel full of corks to face the sink stand and even used some as tile spacers on the floor.  The tile for the floor and backsplash were all scraps from our own projects or rescued random pieces from Habitat for Humanity.  

The Reclamation Room (a.k.a. the bathroom)

The sink counter was made with scrap pallet wood and the shelves behind the door were made with leftover plywood from the other basement parts.  The sink and toilet were also rescued from Habitat.  As COVID was winding down and so was the major basement update, I turned to some smaller projects.

Junction Lake, GPNF

  A few years back, the family had gone to the Portland Japanese Gardens which was hosting an exhibit of block prints that was just amazing. Also around the same time, some friends and I went for an overnight backpacking trip in Gifford-Pinchot National Forest and we had a great time.  To commemorate that, I made a block print of the site where we had camped, a quiet little glade off the main trail that offered a great view of the trees and pond that we were close to.  I hadn't created any block prints in quite some time and this was my first attempt at a landscape.  It turned out better than I expected for a first try and I really enjoyed the experience.  So, when another friend asked me to be part of a guerilla art show (serious fun out of the back of a U-Haul!) and bring some pieces to sell, I put my block carving tools to use and made a few new prints for the show.  I even sold a few (although they were all to friends; thanks friends)!

A Triptych of Prints

Surprise, surprise, the theme was still water and boats.  Also around that time (mid 2023?) I had started another painting and this became the bane of the family room.  It was another seascape of the Ilwaco area and I had purchased a new tube of Titanium White but I went cheap and got the store brand thinking it would be good enough for mixing and lightening and that, my friends, is a mistake.  For some reason (I blame the paint) I just could not get it to blend the way I wanted it to for the sky and after several attempts to get it just right, I gave up and finished out the blocking for the background and then it stopped.  For weeks, then months, then years.  I took the easel down during the holidays and brought it back up to my work area.  Moved it to other rooms when we had big house parties and brought it back out of the closet when we cleaned up.  But for over a year and half, maybe even longer, I just couldn't make any attempts at it.  Finally, at the end  of 2024, I had put it back downstairs for the holidays as the house was rearranged and when I brought it back up after the new year, the kid, my scion of sarcasm and true inheritor of the subtle put-down, said, "What's the point?  It'll just sit there for another year."  That was it.  The gauntlet had been thrown down.  Could I let him be right about that?  And what was keeping me from finishing the damn thing anyway?  So I dusted off the paints (several tubes had dried out by then) and brushes, chose not to take the easy way out for a few evenings, and finally finished it.  

A Masterpiece of Procrastination

The funny thing about finishing a piece like this is that when I'm done (I can't speak for everyone) I feel a sense of euphoria and want to immediately start on new one.  I haven't done that yet though, instead, setting aside time to do this instead and give an update to the world.  Maybe that's good so I don't rush in and get stymied by the not-quite-right picture or paint.  Or maybe that's just another form of procrastination.  Probably both.