Faux leather...

This is my most recently finished art project.

A faux leather belt made of painted Bristol board (paper).   

 We had to pick colors from a natural object to create a manufactured product.

I chose this beautiful stone/pendant the Legal Dude gave me. 

I so love everything western and thought…why not a belt? 

 It took days to complete—

v Creating my color inventory from my stone and then deciding which of those colors to use

v Mixing paints to match those colors

v Applying paint after paint—four coats to each strip of Bristol board, of which there are three

v Embossing each piece

v Deciding how to put it all together  

Plus I worked hard to make it reversible...

The Legal Dude and I had a conversation about how art class—and my projects—should be fun and not stressful.

I told him I wasn’t stressed—just contemplative and intense, trying to figure out how it would all piece together so that the adhesive holds, etc.

 

I mentioned this during my critique.  My Prof said that it’s not stress, but “compulsive” behavior.

He thinks it’s a good thing!

If you’re an artist—compulsive behavior is good.

What about those of us who aren’t? 

Is it then considered compulsive bad behavior?

As long as it gets me my A’s—and I have fun in the process!

Clown Rodeo Boots—for my dad, the color man

This past week we used acrylic paint to create swatches to match all the colors on the color wheel.

Once we accomplished that feat, we were charged with designing a creative and non-standard Color Wheel with said paint swatches.

My classmates created some beautiful and intricate designs, cutting and piecing some stunning and creative wheels.

I went with something less intricate (and more boring) because the craft knife and I are not yet bosom buddies. 

My design is, however, near and dear to my heart—western boots of course!—and my Prof liked the fact that it’s not a circle or a wheel, which I’m hoping means it’s creative!

Once I get it back though I’m gonna get out that little ‘ole craft knife and tool some creative designs in them there boots…

A classmate said they remind him of clown rodeo boots. 

I like that…

Satire

My mission these past two weeks has been to write a satire—actually, a sequel to a satire on the history of curriculum, specifically, the Paleolithic Saber Tooth Curriculum...  

It was due at midnight.
 

It was seven pages strong when I began finalizing early Sunday morning. 

The minimum requirement was 2,400 words or, roughly, ten pages give or take.

At 11:53 p.m. it was 5,000 plus words and fourteen pages long.

Hopefully I won’t be dinged for verbosity.

I may not have hit all the points—or any, for that matter—but feel it's decently written and quite humorous in parts (it made me laugh!).

Alas, this morning, I noticed a number of mechanical errors—missing words, lack of apostrophes, etc.

Why-oh-why can’t I see these glaring errors prior to submission?

Oh that's right—it was midnight when I read my final draft!

The teenager, bless his teen heart, gave me a warm fuzzy this morning.

He asked if I made the deadline. 

I said, yes, but had noticed—too late—a number of errors. 

He said, “That’s okay, I’m sure you’ll get “100”—you always get 100s".

Ain’t he sweet!

Speaking of the teenager…

He’s reading “The Sword in the Stone,” which I had no idea is a satire, for Honor's English.  

He, too, had to write a satire.

While it has a bit of an “Ick’ factor (it’s titled “Veggie Ball” and is about football—need I say more?), it’s definitely witty and satiric!

I went looking for it this morning—for posterity sake—but with flash drives, documents have a way of disappearing from his laptop.

I have survived

The adrenaline is flowing.

I took part in my first group project/presentation this morning.

It wasn’t such a big deal and there were four of us.

It’s been decades since I last presented to a roomful of university co-eds.

It went well. 

No assignments due tomorrow, although several due later in the week—including one terribly dry text.

For the moment though I’m too wired to sit and concentrate.

So I turn to you, dear blog-o, for a little narcissistic drivel.

FINI, FINITO, FIN

Yep. 

That’s right. 

The semester is over and I am done—done—done—until January 10 that is.

Friday was my last day. 

I didn’t have finals per se, rather several intense projects due during finals week.

I wish I could say that I was totally organized, got an early start and completed all tasks ahead of time.

Alas, I was boring down on the keyboard until the very last minute Friday evening.

In my defense I had been living assignment to assignment.

Four separate units would open 8 am Monday morning and when they closed, and all assignments completed and submitted, it would begin all anew. 

A never ending cycle that, literally, kept me busy 24/7.

One course in particular kept me buzzing and up into the wee hours of the morn.  

But it’s all over and I can now relax, sort of. 

I’m still waiting on two grades—I'm a little nervous about one and hugely nervous about the other.

I managed to maintain solid A’s in all classes.

I’m worried, however, that my perfect GPA will be tarnished by a less than stellar grade in one course, which is sad, because I loved that class, the Prof, the readings, etc., etc.

It’s a lesson learned though: I’ll be taking as many citation and bibliography sessions as I can this next semester.

As one of the Legal Dude’s colleagues recently queried—“Isn’t being a full-time student such a luxury?”

Yep, it truly is and I am so profoundly grateful, and immensely enjoying the luxury of it all.   

Therefore, it makes no sense to do anything less than my absolute and personal best.      

Hope all has been well with everyone out there...

Dear Blog-o...

I’ve missed you. 

I’ve missed writing all manner of drivel about life here on the high-altitude plain.

I’ve missed posting goofy photos, that only “my quirky sight” finds amusing.  

When I look back, years from now, will I remember what caused this hiatus?

Will I remember that I spent practically every waking hour, into the weeist hours of the morning and every weekend—much to the chagrin of the Legal Dude—studying?

Will I remember that during these past two months, the Legal Dude—after working a full day, and then some—has come home to cook dinner, practically every night?

Will I remember that the teenager has queried, more than once, “Um, Mom? Do I have clean socks?”

Will I remember that I sat in the Legal Dude’s office and cried, when I got an 82% on my first art project?  

Or how proud I felt when I told him I got a 92% on the second?

Will I remember how inept and inarticulate I feel, sitting in class thinking, “man, I just sounded so ignorant!”

Will I remember this day—this night—when my professor told me "so, you’ve been accepted into the graduate program” in early childhood education with a concentration in curriculum and instruction?

You bet I will!

I hope I remember it all.

Congratulations to me!