Summertime

Have I ever mentioned that summer is my least favorite of the seasons? Don't get me wrong, I don't hate it by any means. I love going on vacations, or taking walks when the evening cools off.

What I don't like is heat. Sweat. Allergies. Boredom.

True, the boredom thing isn't nearly as much of an issue now as it was when I was still a teen. Elora and Joshua take care of that, even when I would prefer they didn't! We've fed the local ducks, gone to a few parks, and the lake. Thats entertaining enough:


But in years past... I never had a summer job until I was in college (I applied for a few, but its hard to get a job in a small town when you don't know somebody. And you refuse to work in fast food, or on Sundays.) Every summer I was literally counting down the days until I could be back in the classroom.
Sigh. I love school.

It didn't help that I had an absurd fear of calling people to ask if they want to hang out, so I'd spend the day hoping someone else would take the initiative and call me. Okay, sometimes I still do that.

I've always hated any team sports (both watching and participating), swimming or getting wet (my glasses used to be a big reason for this) , and I rarely had money to go to a movie. Besides, who would I go with? Unless it was a family vacation year, all I had to look forward to was long days in my basement room (the only cool place in the house) or sitting under the front yard tree reading a book. I enjoy a good book, but there's only so much reading you can do in a day! Even years later when I had some good friends to hang out with, their job schedules were different than mine and it wasn't until nighttime that we could all get together.

I have never lived somewhere that is air conditioned. Currently, our apartment thermostat says it is over 85 degrees in here with the fan on. I suppose thats better than the 95 it is outside....but not by much. Since moving back to a warmer climate, I have informed Joseph that when he is done with school there is no way we are moving somewhere hotter, like Arizona or Texas. Wyoming and Montana don't sound too bad, weather wise. I can stand a little snow more than killer heat!

Allergies..I didn't have them until I was 25 years old, and each year they seem to be getting steadily worse. This summer I can hardly go outside even if I want to do so. I've had the usual nose and throat ailments, but my eyes have been so swollen and itchy I considered clawing them out last week. Luckily I found some ocular antihistamine so I could start wearing my contacts and a little makeup. Now I don't have to feel like this so much:




Yes, I believe the only time I really enjoyed the whole summer was the years when I lived in Washington. Between 75 and 85 almost every day: how perfect is that! I think in western WA you learn to appreciate the summer months more than before, because the perfect weather makes up for the nine months of darkness. Not only that, but there are places to go and things to see. You can find a beach every few miles, there are cultural attractions, and plenty of parks. As long as you don't mind homeless people. Even at my workplace downtown I could sit out on the balcony and look out over beautiful Elliot Bay, while I basked in the not-too-hot sun during my lunch breaks.

When we lived in Everett, Joseph had long breaks between work and school in the middle of the day. We would often take a jaunt down to a beach to find mini-crabs under the rocks, or to have a picnic. There was also an awesome forest trail right by my workplace, so sometimes when he came to get me from work we would take Elora for a little hike under the trees.

Back when we were dating, Joseph worked at a bank in the Roosevelt district north of the UW. I got off work a few hours before he did, and I'd take the bus to the park near his job where I'd take a nap in the grass, write in my journal, or read. (The fifth Harry Potter book had just come out, I believe.) Before that, I used to take a bus that didn't go directly to my home so that I could walk along the Burke Gillman Trail every day. If I didn't stop under the Montlake Bridge to watch the kyaks, then I would go on to the arboretum and look for turtles on logs, or take pictures off of the docks.


Wait, I think I've posted this picture before. Here's a new one:


Wow I loved that place. I guess thats why I keep mentioning it.

I only recall one summer in Washington that seemed unbearably hot. But that was when I was pregnant with Elora, had been layed off from my job, and was home and incredibly bored. Thats when I drew this on the computer to illustrate my anguish:


See, the guy standing represents the sun, or the heat. And the other guy represents the suffering of humanity. It's very avant garde, don't you think? Never mind.

So no, I don't completely hate summer; I have some awesome memories of this time of year. I just don't like to be hot, sweaty, and allergic. Give me some crisp autumn air or some barely budding trees and I'm much more at one with the world.

How shall I solve this problem? Hmm, Maybe I should buy a summer home in Seattle. I think I'll get right on that. (Everyone sing with me: "The bluest skies you've ever seen are in Seattle....." Its in my playlist if you don't know what I'm talking about. And hopefully it works, unlike most the rest of the songs on my list. )

Girl Hair

When random people learn I have a little girl, I often get this reaction: "Oh, you're so lucky! How fun to be able to dress her up and put bows and cute things in her hair!"

Seriously. Lots of people say this. Even a guy did once, and coming from someone not female, it sounded somewhat condescending.

I always think, "Are you kidding me? Does it look like I enjoy doing her hair?" This is what she looks like most of the time:


She does have very beautiful hair, it naturally curls and everything. But when I take pictures like this, I realize that it is always in her face. And messy.
Even when she was a baby I shunned the usual lacy headbands and bows stuck on her head with honey. I think she wore her very first hair clip when we were taking her one year old pictures:



But we didn't use them much after that.

Honestly, I always mean to do her hair. But hair styling is stressful to me; it takes lots of time, patience, and manual dexterity. Even doing my own hair causes no end of strife, really. I had my mom do my hair for me until I was in high school, then I just wore it down because I could never get it smoothly into a ponytail. I have the same problems with Elora's tresses.

Maybe it has something to do with hating babydolls by the time I was seven, or with cutting off my sister's curls half a dozen times before she was five. Or maybe its just because my mom spent so much time with my hair that I have issues. (You saw the pictures.)

I feel guilty about Elora though, because she has the potential to look so nice. Sometimes I do try to get her hair neatly coiffed, so she won't be shunned by her peers. I'll do cool things with little rubber bands, and once or twice I did this:



And it was very cute. Thing is, within a few hours, its all messy again and I feel like my efforts weren't even worth the time. We recently bought her some headbands as a quick fix, so her hair wouldn't always be in her face:



They look nice enough, but they're usually off within five minutes. And I think they're too small for her head.

So...I'm sorry. Its my fault. Next time you see my daughter looking like this:


You can blame her mother. (And yes, the neighbors have seen her naked outside recently. Don't ask.)

A Word on Tie-Dye

During the fashion crazed eighties, I didn't necessarily follow the crowd in my clothing choices. Oh sure, I had a pair of leggings, and the odd shirt clip or two. I mean everyone tied their shirt off to one side, right?

But I wasn't as trendy as my hip little sister, with her hot pink boots with the black faux fur trim, levi skirt, and a sweater with a torn out collar, worn off the shoulder over a tank top. And she was only eight.

No, these trends didn't exactly tickle my fancy, but there were a few things I was always on the lookout for. I wanted: a sweater vest that I could wear over a white collared shirt, a plaid pleated skirt and knee-high socks, a jacket with patches on the elbows, Converse high-tops, and most importantly, a tie-dye shirt.

I did get some Converse knockoffs, they were fluorescent yellow and AWESOME. Even cooler than my jelly shoes that hurt my feet. I had a brown corduroy jacket that was almost as cool as having patches on the elbows. And I had two full body jumpers my mom made that were almost as good as a plaid skirt with knee high socks. Kiera thought they were the ugliest outfits in the world, and was embarrassed to be seen with me. She told me so.

However, it wasn't until the decade of decadent style was coming to a close that I finally was able to find tie-dye shirts on store shelves. I suppose it was the grunge style that brought about their renewed popularity....and I was a wholehearted follower of the grunge clothing trend: plaid ROCKS!

Ahem.

Anyway, my first tie-dye shirt that I fell in love with was this over-sized hot number:


Note my leggings converted shorts on my 13-year-old chicken legs. (Except I'm the only one allowed to say that. Leta made fun of my legs and I didn't wear shorts to school for YEARS.) Please look away from my haircut, and draw your attention to the perfect accessory for tie-dye: friendship bracelets.

And I can even make you one today with very intricate designs. I'm an expert. I wore this shirt until it had too many holes to be respectable, but there was no way I was going to let my wardrobe go without tie-dye again.

Another favorite was this patriotic number:



This photo is from an Art Guild trip to Snow Canyon in St. George, UT my senior year. It is the same shirt that you saw in the black and white photo from the last post. It became tradition for me to wear this shirt on Independence day most every year.

Then there was my most stylish t.d. shirt by far:



Yeah baby! The classic Alice in Wonderland print. Please ignore my pretentious hat. This photo is from a series of pictures I took where I was showing off my new wardrobe, the summer before my freshman year of college. (I also had an a-line PLAID dress my mom made for me. Just what I always wanted. But now its at my parents house because I'd look like a dork in it at age thirty.) Thankfully, I don't think I was ever stupid enough to actually wear this hat to school.

I have seen this print on so many shirts and posters its not funny. Not surprisingly, I easily found this shirt still for sale on the internet today. Here is a closer view:



Mine didn't have the extra print on the back though. When this shirt finally bit the dust, I thought about toning down my wardrobe. Just a bit. No way was I going to completely discard my tie-dye fetish, I mean, what if they stopped selling them again? But this time, I went a little more conservative:



I think this picture was taken around 1999. And this, my friends, is the shirt I still own today. Unfortunately, I'm no longer this skinny! But I do still stand like this, like my mom. I swear I am standing up straight. (I hate the way I stand, its like my hips are connected to my spine crooked.)

I love that this shirt is NOT huge on me, its form fitting, and its blue. But if I want to wear it today, I have to wear another shirt under it or my tummy sticks out in a very unflattering way.

So yes, perhaps I still have the same tastes I had at age 10, if slightly modified for my advanced age. Perhaps I asked for a pair of red plaid knee-high socks this last Christmas that I can't really wear anywhere, but I'm so happy to own. Maybe I still want a sweater vest. Perhaps I bought a green plaid skirt last month (sadly not pleated), and thats what I bought my brown shoes to match with.

And maybe, just maybe...I'll dig this shirt out of the bottom of my drawer and wear it tomorrow.

Thoughts on Thirty

Isn't your thirtieth birthday supposed to be some sort of momentous occasion? Kind of like a first birthday except you don't dig your hands into the cake and wipe frosting all over yourself. Or at least I didn't this time.




For a lot of people 30 might be a hard birthday, because you're considered "old" by the standards of our youthful culture. My dad told me his thirtieth birthday was very depressing for him.
I suppose I'm not as cute as I was around age one or two.... that might be upsetting for some folks. But it doesn't bother me too much. At least I don't have to wear shirts like this anymore. Except for when I'm pregnant.


At thirty, I may not be as cute as I was at Elora's age:




But in a lot of ways I'm happier with my disposition and looks than I was at sweet sixteen! I was definitely more creative then though. Check out all of my rings:



My twenty-first year saw a lot of action (academically that is). So I could feel somewhat accomplished at that landmark year.


Its easy to feel like you need to have reached all kinds of milestones by thirty. If I got too analytical about the big things I haven't done yet, I might be upset. So what about the little things?
Not only did I finally move far away from home , but I got my braces off and got contact lenses at the age of twenty-three. Now that is momentous. I even actually met someone I liked enough to get married, and I have two kids of my own! Thats pretty good too.

My birthday itself wasn't especially spectacular this year. We were watching money and couldn't do anything big..but we played at the park, got an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, and went to the mall for the second time since we moved here.
I got to spend some birthday money on some cool new shoes there:

Beforehand, I also bought myself the present of two new bras from (whisper) Victoria's Secret. Its the first time I've had bras that I actually like and that fit me! But I'll spare you the visual of that one.


I got four different birthday messages on the answering machine: my sister and her daughter called and sang to me, two of my brothers called and sang together, my mom (who is visiting my grandma) called with her and sang to me, and my dad even called (he didn't sing). Who knew my family was so musical!

So, thirty. I haven't accomplished any huge major things in my life. But I have a family who loves me enough to call me, a husband who tried really hard to plan a fun day, and two kids who are almost as cute as I was:


(I'm totally kidding. I'm not that narcissistic.)

Portrait #4: Not Bad At All

Links to the other portraits in this series: #1, #2, #3

I am a bit behind again and decided to go ahead and use the carbon copy paper to start this drawing and speed things up. I'm supposed to change the eyes and make them bigger later, making it my own creation, so I don't feel too guilty.

(Side note: they sent me two photos to work from, hoping I could take the eyes from the second photo and transpose them onto this one. While its usually nice to have multiple photos of the subject, there were a few problems. First, in the other photo, his head was at a different angle, and his expression was completely different. Second, he was at least a year older in the other photo, so it didn't even look like the same kid. Yeah, thats gonna work.)





I was informed that his eyes were the same color as the girl in Portrait #3. If you didn't catch it, I had to change the other portrait at the last minute, but this time I could do the hazel eyes on my own terms, and they turned out pretty nice. I made them slightly less squinty than they are in the photo reference:




This photo was taken outside, and that was half the reason it looked so nice. The background had nice green bokeh. Even though it takes a lot more time than my usual cross-hatching method, I wanted to recreate the background somewhat, so it will look as interesting as the original photo:


At this point, the depth in the background is already making it look better than any of the previous portraits, in my opinion. Or it might be that it actually looks a lot like the kid because of the whole tracing thing. Mind you, tracing helps you to better understand how a face is put together, you just don't want to do it so often that it becomes habit. (Do you like my rationalization?) Here is more nice background:




I usually don't finish the background before the figure, but I was having fun with it. In the photo, there is a white blurry bar behind his head, probably from a playground toy or something. I didn't like the way the shape looked in my drawing, but still liked how the white broke up the background. So I kept it there but broke it up a little more into smaller shapes, so it wasn't so distracting. I still might take it out.:



With his eyes being drawn wider than life, they looked a little strange and out of place on his face. I figured if I put some more shadow in them, they wouldn't look so stark in his warm face, and that worked nicely:



This boy had short blonde hair, different from the last three portraits; it was fun to render and turned out pretty well. His skin was very yellowish because of the lighting on him. But because he is obviously outside, the yellow-orange tint doesn't look strange on this portrait as it did on the last one, and actually adds something to his skin tones.

He was wearing a knit sweater with a lot of detail. It looked nice in the photo, but I didn't want it to detract from his face too much, therefor I kept it pretty vague:

I measured, and if they frame this in an 8x10, it will probably get cut off right at the zipper. So I didn't worry about completing the bottom too much. I also realized that at the top it would get cut off right above the white part in the background, and most of that nice top edge (which isn't as overworked as the rest of the green) will not be showing. Darn it.



At this point its mostly done. The main thing I need to do now is darken all the values and see if there are any spots I haven't finished yet. In the end his face seems a bit chalky because of the richness of color elsewhere, but I don't want to overwork it making it darker. The sweater is a darker blue in the photo, but I don't have the right color. I did the best I could by adding other colors like red:



Final thoughts: This definitely turned out better than any of the previous portraits. However, I may not use the carbon paper again for a few reasons. Partly its because I don't like the dark line it leaves on the paper. But mostly its because people don't respect your drawing as much if they know you used that method to begin it- a little silly because the details in the facial shapes have nothing to do with the initial lines, but how you place the color. Oh well.

Note: In college, we were encouraged to use the projector to get our initial drawings onto canvas so we could get to work more quickly. It's common knowledge that many artists-especially illustrators with tight deadlines- use projectors. But one of my professors told us that he stopped drawing in a realistic style (switching to more cartoony stuff) because he didn't want anyone thinking that he'd used a projector. So there is still a stigma attached, definitely!

The Cake (and balloons)

Profile: Joshua at One Year Old

Can you believe it? Joshua is a year old this week.

He's grown from this.....


To this!:

He definitely has his own personality.

He is always smiling and happy, especially after a nice nap. Sometimes he takes a 40 minute nap in the mornings, and usually a two hour nap in the afternoons. He has...issues...with nighttime some nights.
He gives kisses by saying, "mmmmm" until you touch his lips, then he says, "maaaa!"




He often will carry on conversations with us. He seems to know the words "dad", "no" and "bye", pretty well, and sometimes seems to say, "this"(pointing to things), "cheese", and "mama".



He loves to shake his finger at people and say, "No, no, no!"
He likes to wave "goodbye" (usually in sync with his utterance of, "Buh, buh, buh"). He also claps for himself whenever he does something well.



He is a curious little boy. He loves to watch the leaves blow in the wind through the window, and to touch them when we're outside. He loves to dig in the sand, swing, and take baths with his sister.



He's not scared of Elora, even though he's perfected the fake cry. He likes to rough house with her, and nowadays can often wrestle her to the ground by grabbing her by the hair from behind, then pulling her down with his own weight. He can hold his own!


He has also perfected the fake laugh, and he will perform it anytime he hears other people laughing, even on tv. His eyes are dark brown like his mommy's, but when he smiles he looks a lot like daddy.




The bathroom is his favorite place to get into trouble: unrolling the toilet paper, putting toys in the toilet, and playing with the toilet bowel scrubber (eww!) Whenever he hears the bathroom door open, he's crawling there as fast as he can before someone stops him. His sister was never this much trouble!



He just got his eighth tooth.
His favorite lunch is a sandwich with a thin slice lunch meat, cheese, mustard, and mayo. He stopped eating baby food at nine months and usually wants whatever we are eating.



He is still a mama's boy. He adores and copies daddy, but when he's grumpy only mommy will do. He also loves his blanket at nap/bed time. He grabs it and holds it tightly to his face, and starts kicking his feet because he knows what comes next! (mommy, thats what.)



He likes to copy everyone. He will 'comb' his hair with daddy's brush, 'wash' his hands, and imitate any noise you can make. He wouldn't wear a hat outside until he noticed that daddy wears one too; now we have no problem keeping it on his head.
He's also a dancing fool! Anytime he hears a beat (even the washing machine) he boogies down, bouncing his knees, bobbing his head, and swaying around. He has good rhythm too...it must come from his dad!



He's not walking quite yet, but he cruises the furniture with ease, and can stand independently for a few seconds. In some ways he still seems so little (probably because he has an older sibling) but there is no doubt that he is becoming a big boy!

Happy Birthday, Joshua!





"Ugh, mom, this is way too sentimental for me. Stop. Please."