Contrary to what I have previously complained about regarding how I dry my art, I need the inside of my apartment to contain more humidity. I cannot breathe in dry air.

(Hey, Mom, was I actually breathing during those few years we lived in the desert? Did you check? Because I don't see how it was possible.)

I have decided that breathing will only enhance my ability to work, thereby increasing production automatically. So, short of moving to Hawaii earlier than planned (believe you me, that is a consideration) I have decided to humidify my life the old-fashioned way, with high-tech humidifiers.

After a week of frustration dealing with ones that only threatened to work, Amazon has kindly supplied me with a new one that I adore.

Get this: It has built-in LED lights that make a totally rad pattern on the ceiling! How perfect is that, I ask you?

It's so cool at night that it prompted me to declare to Colin the next morning that we had just slept "in The Odyssey." I'm not exactly sure what that meant (although I am reading The Odyssey) but I was convinced of this.

It is the dawning of...

A new set of paintings that I'm finishing up. :o)

Oh, no no no, that is not the last of the concentric circle designs that I've been playing with lately.

Things have been moving faster since the sun has come out, so my work is catching up with me. In order to be on (my self-imposed) schedule, I should already be starting a new one.

I have 2 more that I hope to put up this weekend or early next week.

In the meantime, these 3 are currently available in my Etsy shop, where I encourage you to go to check out all their light reactive goodness. Especially Pulse, the last one. It's glowy as all get out. :o)


Colin and I have both been working on a ton of new art.

I'm not sure if it's the season changing around me or what, but I've been amping up my work. I'm trying to learn better ways of doing things, painting wise. Not that my previous ways weren't working for me, but I'm always anxious to make improvements where I can.

Part of the issue is just working on so many at once. I feel the need to do more and feel like my brain is stretched thin at the same time. I guess I'm trying to balance those things, so I can do more without losing my brain.

Specifically, I've been trying to take notes, and jot down ideas in my sketchbooks to better plan out my attack. If I can make decisions ahead of time, it will help eliminate errors. Often I decide to do something and then forget what I decided a few hours later because I was trying to be "spontaneous" with my creativity.

I'm also trying to have more paintings going at all stages of the process at any given time. Hopefully this will help close the long gaps between finished paintings, which I generally complete in groups. Right now I have 5 paintings almost finished, if you don't count the 2 bigger ones that I've been threatening to finish all month.

Production is key at the moment, so that I can both hang stuff in coffee houses and galleries *and* have more work in my Etsy shop at the same time. (Madness!)


I've been working hard again. March has become a month of in-process paintings.

Spring is almost here, although since I live in Southern California, I guess it might already be here. (Minus the random, rainy, cold days that fool you into thinking that Spring is not here.) I love spring, it's very inspiring. Buds are growing on the trees that surround my apartment and balcony. My beloved orange tree is blossoming, which is just the most glorious thing ever when I'm painting on the balcony. I often wonder what my neighbors must think of me when they see me out there. There's that crazy artist girl again, throwing paint around on her balcony.

Oh right, so I've been able to paint on the balcony again, because of the sunshine and warmth. :o) This makes me happy. Of course, now it officially makes sense for Colin and I to clean the balcony, and remove all the dead leaves that accumulated during Winter.

My goal right now is to keep my head down and work really hard, because my secondary goals are going to require a lot of paintings.

Everything in the world should glow.

Beginnings . 12x24 inches . 2008

1. natural lighting
2. artificial lighting
3. artificial and UV lighting combined
4. UV lighting only
5. no light

Ingredients: acrylic paint, beach sand, glass, and varnish on canvas.

I've been fine-tuning this painting since, oh... November, I think. By "fine-tuning," I mean restarting about 4 times. 5? I have no idea anymore. Needless to say, it has captured a great portion of my soul in the process.

In some ways, it's hard for me to look at it. I feel as though I've been looking at it for so long now. My vision has become blurry, and I see the many different paintings it almost was.

I think part of my difficulty was venturing out and exploring a new canvas shape. It's so long! Granted, I'm in love with horizons, so it seemed like it should be relatively easy.

I am very happy to have finally accomplished it. I'm actually well suited for this style canvas, so it would have been quite a pity had I not gained such experience points. In fact, I happen to have a shiny new 12x36 inch canvas staring me down from next to my work bench. I'm really excited to give it a whirl. Maybe not right away, though...

I should mention that, although you cannot see it at all, the painting is covered in those tiny glass pieces I've been obsessed with lately. It shows up as little white "dots" on the non-reflective sections, because that's all the camera flash can pick up. (See the second image above.) You'll have to trust me when I say (as I always do) that this is an incredible effect in person. Also, the greenish color in the glow image fades much more rapidly than the rest of the color, ultimately leaving you with a dark night sky filled with stars and magic that should last for hours. :o)

Of course I'm glad to have reached the end of this particular journey, but all that means is that I've cleared more mental space to begin something brand new. This art thing is addictive.