1 plus 58...

me at 1 year

...equals 59, which is what I am today.  

I've been reading about various journaling artists in one of those $14.99 Stampington magazines that I can't resist now and then. One of the women felt that self-portraiture was key to understanding yourself as an artist, finding your true voice,etc, etc, so this morning I grabbed my camera and fired off a bunch of shots in the front hall while trying not to have a goofy self conscious expression on my face.

me this morning

God, were they awful. Bulbous nose, double chin, eyes of two different sizes. I'm just not a photogenic person. When you say that, everyone assures you that you really are, but, no, some of us just aren't. Anyway, I picked one and tweaked it a bit in photoshop. My face isn't red like it looks in the photo but I couldn't figure out anything in photoshop to fix it.

Also grabbed a couple shots that Steve took of me the other day as I was working away on something at my craft table. I actually like those. I'm wearing 5 layers of clothes cause we keep our house pretty cool and I was freezing that day.

I don't feel especially enlightened by my self-photo session, altho I am somewhat more determined to get that eyelid lift sooner rather than later. The dark chocolate cake I baked and took to work seemed to have a more positive effect on my sense of self than did the photos of my face.

The Starbucks in the studio shots is an imposter. I make my own mochas and just use a Starbucks sleeve on the cups I buy at Costco. It's to the point now where I like my own concoction better than SB.

I bought the drawing lab book at left in the bottom shot in a vain effort to locate my inner van Gogh. I really can't draw worth a damn. Maybe taking a class with a real person is the way to go. I'd like to be able to at least sketch a bit in a journal or add silly animals or people to ATCs. I started at the front and worked my way thru the exercises one evening on the couch. When I showed my ten little dog drawings to Steve he spit his water all over Maggie, who was sleeping between his knees on the stretched out recliner he was sitting in. Not very encouraging , honey...