touch...

my mike sent me a tube of expensive paint in the mail: Black Spinel. ohhhhhhhhh. and i have been spreading its luscious body all over my canvas today. mmmm hmmmm. and how. :)

trying to fend it off...

i've been feeling more and more restless lately...
it's probably the summer heat.

i always thought that seasonal depression was pretty much a winter affliction but i'm starting to think i've been wrong about that. thinking back, i was pretty much always depressed when i lived in southern california. the drain of 6 months of 100+ degree heat definitely took its toll. day after day of lethargic, unenthusiastic HOT does not do a body good. NOT. and so that's probably where this weird restlessness is coming from...

we'll see.

but the major culprit: i think i need a friend. all my really, really good friends live pretty far away. the nearest one is an hour and a half drive from here. that's not exactly a winning combination. the few friends i've managed to make during the past year or so here in wine-land are fun, good-hearted people but they don't really care about art like i do... i generally do most of the talking in those conversations (if we even discuss it at all). they're also all married with children- something i know nothing about and don't plan on knowing about for quite some time either. i'm on a completely different path, full of completely different interests and ethics, and it gets to be a bit lonely to say it plainly. where are all the almost 30, unmarried, childless, artist females? ha! is that a tall order? am i an anomaly? okay... what about any artist female, any age, but who isn't going to make me stare at her kid with her or put me in the middle of fights between her and her husband? any of those in the world? how 'bout a female artist, any age, divorced, and whose kids are grown and gone? there's GOT to be a few of those out there. got to be!

women need other women. it's a fact. i guess i'm just feeling a little homesick for my old circle... i miss all that laughter.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!

out of nowhere, there's been a lot of movement over at my etsy shop of late... comparatively anyway. ha! and it's put a pretty nice bounce in my step! :) thank you to all the lovely people who have taken time out of their day to write me letters letting me know that my work touches their heart, and a jumbo thank you to all my collectors- your support is so amazing and i'm so grateful to have it. i'm so appreciative that you've given my work a new and loving home. i can't tell you how deeply it touches me that a person actually likes my work enough to buy it. it's such a massive compliment and i blush every single time. thank you, thank you, thank you! whether you found me through my gallery or online, i'm just so blessed that we've crossed paths. i really am. really, really, really, really! thank you! :)

:)

i woke up in the best mood this morning! it's always like that the day after i finish a painting. always. and i cash in on that feeling, let me tell ya! i got up, made coffee, lugged the next big ol' canvas outside, and by my third sip of hazelnut goodness i was ready to have at it. didn't even change out of my footie pajamas. i'm still in 'em! ha! and i haven't eaten anything yet either! not such a good thing but i got snagged by my mistress and just couldn't turn away. i am powerless against her. i can't tell her no. when it's a good day for painting, it's a good day for painting and that's the end of that story. time goes and goes and you just don't notice. i checked the time when my neighbor came over to see what i was working on and why the hell i was outside in my pajamas at 3 in the afternoon. "did you just wake up?" hahaha! nope. just on a roll. :)

happy...

the day started the most wonderful way it possibly could-

i made coffee, lugged the canvas outside, and sat and stared at the thing for the first hour of my morning. i tried to find something to scrutinize but i just couldn't. and then that big, warm wave came. the one that whispers, "you're done. it's finished. now smile." haha! :)



Lineage (4)
44" x 38"
oil on canvas
angela simione, 2009

dang!

check this out!
you must!

women painting women

it's time...

between layers of paint i cleaned my house and bagged up some old clothes for the goodwill. round 4 of the cleaning/weeding/sorting fiasco is here. it's so hard. i've somehow managed to become horribly sentimentally attached to most things i own. and although i've done a pretty good job of pairing down, clearing out, and making space for a the new life i'm attempting to build, i've got to do better. it's time to let go of some stuff i've really been putting off dealing with: old photos and letters and art. it's always hard to throw out things like that but i feel like a huge burden will be eased once i do. the maid paintings are teaching me how to let go... the importance of letting go... the importance of forgiveness... of moving away from anger toward something much more refined and light-

compassion.

i've got to learn how to extend it to myself.

ahhhhh...

another wonderful weekend. crochet, poetry, and chardonnay. :) and splashing around in my lovely black gouache-



mama (3)


mama (4)


mama (5)

all works:
11" x 7.5"
water-soluble graphite and gouache on paper
angela simione, 2009

wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!

yesterday i took the day off from painting to read poetry and go poke around in antique shops. :) and today has shaped up to be exactly the same. nicey nice! it's alright to take a day off every now and then to enjoy life and see what's going on out in the big, wide world. i picked up a few more antiques photographs and a big burlap basket thingamajig and a totally kitchy "Alice in Wonderland" tin paint palette. total score! and my copy of Rebecca Loudon's Radish King came in the mail too (which is AMAZING! it is on the recommended reading list, for sure!). so, between enjoying beautiful, burning words and treasure-hunting, i had a damn good two days. :)

making time to appreciate the hard work of others is definitely high on my list of priorities these days. there's just so much GOOD WORK out there! every time i make a sale on etsy, i immediately turn around and buy something from another artist on the site. immediately. if i could spend all the proceeds from my little shop on other etsy shops, i would. it's become so important to me to show my appreciation for the work other artists do and to give whatever amount of support and encouragement i can. i know how positively i respond to encouragement and how much it lightens my spirit and strengthens my resolve and persistence. it really is the least i can do to offer that same encouragement to those whose work i admire and believe in. it just enriches my daily living in such tremendous, undeniable ways. i'm so thankful for artists. they make my world go round. check the 'friends and inspirations' link list to the right.

memory...

there's a preciousness and a longing... an intimacy and a gentleness and a strange nostalgia... because i don't long to see the days of the apron return, not at all. but there's a call in these little drawings... a child's call... when we were little and we all thought our mamas were angels. there's a sad calm that pours out, a tiredness... but also something simple and beautiful...



mama
6" x 6"
water-soluble graphite and acrylic on raw canvas
angela simione, 2009

i'm partial to the drawings on paper but this experiment of drawing on unprimed canvas turned out quite sweetly. i think i'll keep playing with this approach and see where it takes me.

on a roll...

3 more little apron paintings in the bag, a ton of work on the next maid portraits (soon. very, very soon), and these:



this is one of the mono prints i made for the SJICA last month. i'd spent hours working on the very first one and, after pulling that print and a few ghosts, i painted back in to the original plate with sepia and black ink to get this piece.




and this is one of the ghost prints, touched up with a bit of black gouache. yum.

both pieces:
untitled
22" x 15"
mono print
angela simione, 2009


the top piece is available now at black fence.

new/old romance...

yesterday afternoon i whiled away a few fast hours at an antique store. a perfect sunday pastime. i picked up a whole bunch of old-timey sepia tone photos, the kind printed on super thick card stock. i've got the beginnings of a new obsession/collection on my hands. but they're beautiful and it makes me feel so bad that they're up for sale, away from their families, tossed aside. so i'm scooping them all up. my new orphanage. i've already got the ever-growing collection of busted up dolls that no one loves anymore. how goth am i! HA! or is it that fatally pathetic "wounded bird" syndrome rearing its manipulative head again? i'm a sucker for the broken and forgotten things of the world. i can't help it, they need a good home. my young, romantic heart taking control of my spending habits... i suppose it could be worse.

while i should've been sleeping...

last night after drinking way too much coffee at way too late an hour, i made these. i'm glad for the bad caffeine decision.


mama (1)
11" x 7.5"
water-soluble graphite and gouache on paper
angela simione, 2009


mama (2)
11" x 7.5"
water-soluble graphite and gouache on paper
angela simione, 2009

as promised...

the heart stone:

wonderful and heartfelt and heart-ache...

we went to the beach today. 2 saturdays in a row. our little cove. it isn't sand there, it's tiny tiny rocks, polished down and smooth. i brought home another big batch of bright white rocks and will have to track down a jar to tumble them in to. i also found a heart stone, bright white like the rest and just as precious. i'll take a picture of it tomorrow and post it here. it made my heart happy to find a heart on the shore. and i dug out my new book- frieda hughes' 'Wooroloo'. i got it during my day of despondency at the used bookstore. a lucky find and for a short moment my hand halted when i saw it... i wasn't sure if i wanted to know her words. i've got everything her mother ever wrote and a few of her father's books too and, for as disrespectful and harsh as this sounds, i didn't want her writing to be bad... i was scared to find out. but i picked it up and opened it right in the middle. that's the best way to browse for a book of poems. leap right in. and the poem i opened it to was exactly the poem i needed. isn't that always the way. a true fortune. and it was good. and so today, nestled down on the tiny tiny stones with strange little fleas making a new nest between my toes, i started at the beginning, the first blank page that spills over to the dedication: to her father who she called Daddy and my heart snapped in half. good thing i'd found a new one, bright white and made out of stone. and i read and read and read and i only stopped because the tide was coming in and my dog and man were tired and it was time to make the drive back. by the time we walked in the front door, i feel the hefty fatigue a day out in the sun brings. i lied down on the soft white comforter in front of the fan and fell right off to sleep. now, i'm drinking coffee- a decision i'll regret in a few hours but, right now, is wonderful. my sweetie, now sleeping in the exact same spot i slept in... the dog pooled on the floor, exhausted... a documentary about the kennedys buzzing on the television. i'll read another poem or two tonight before i curl up next to my sweetheart. maybe i'll even work on a few of my own that i've been ignoring. we had a good day. i had a good day. poems belong at the beach. that's where they should be read. there and in a big comfy chair under a huge quilt. those are the two places poetry works its hardest and brightest. at least for me.

my heart goes out to her. frieda. i will never, i hope, know the road she has known. i will never know the sharp corners she's fallen against. it isn't pity, it's respect. she is all poise and resilience. a woman that paints and writes children's books and good poems. she is the last of her tribe now. she is alone. my prayer is that she doesn't feel that way.

history...

redacted book page
angela simione, 2008

deciphering...

woke up with that odd feeling on my shoulders again... only this time it was heavier. so heavy in fact that it took some doing and a whole bunch of time to talk myself in to getting out of bed today. but i finally placed where this odd mood is coming from-

for the past 4 1/2 years, i have moved, consistent as clockwork, every year and a half. that mark is upon me- the time when the upheaval starts. my bones must remember it and are reminding me to prepare myself. only this time there is no upheaval on the horizon, no tragedy to wrestle with, no massive problem that needs to be managed. it's just my training kicking in, telling me to brace myself against the storm. but it's all clear and bright and easy here. there's no dangerous weather, at least none that i can see or smell or sense. there is no great turmoil brewing. now that i've placed it, i feel a bit better. it's just my strange, internal, deceptive clock ticking away in my ear as i sleep and i wake up with its dread in my hair and disillusionment crushed across my eyes and all the bad, bad, bad of the world sinking in to my pores. it's not a fun way to begin the day... especially for a person like me who always (almost always) wakes up happy and talkative and ready to explore and play and laugh. yes, i am one of those types who is happy to open their eyes and see sunshine. i am part of that happy tribe that most of the world's population seems to be horribly annoyed by. i've always been this way, even as a child. especially as a child. i've always believed that, in spite of its many horrors, the world is good and open and here to be enjoyed and marvelled at- its grasses are to be danced in and turn cartwheels on and to watch children play and chase insects. i've always noticed how it never rains on sunday... it might be dreary and it might rain at night, but for the life of me i can't ever remember it raining on a sunday... maybe that's just a california thing.

practice, practice, practice...

it's another scorcher here in wine-land. blah and blarf. but it's also a day for painting outside and letting my little one sleep on top of her pile of sticks. she's drug down the entire forest to our front porch. and by sticks i mean big-ass branches. so big her head tilts to the side as she lugs them down the hill. branches that are actually the size of tree trunks. everyday she brings down a few more. 2 of the neighborhood dogs now come over to chew on the sticks and hang out in the shade. my pack is growing apparently. no complaints here. a pack of loose, unleashed dogs make it so that i'm an impossible person to sneek up on. plus, it's pretty cute to see them all laying around, happy in the heat with a stick to gnaw on, not a care in the world. the life of a dog seems to be pretty good. full of naps and play and jumping and kissing. they make for pretty good company as well.

i started a new painting today. i've got 3 in the works. 3 big canvasses anyway. i'm not including all the drawings i get wrapped up in and, lately, crochet projects too. i'm trying to focus the majority of my art-making energy on the oils. i'm feeling that nice, warm drive to begin putting together work for a solo show. it'll be a long time in coming just because, well, it takes a long time to do the work. but i finally feel like it's time to start preparing for it. it's been a year since graduation and i've worked through that strange transition and i feel (at least with this current body of work) that i've worked out a lot of the kinks in my practice. i feel like i'm moving forward and that the anxieties of last year are far behind me and that i can now concentrate on goals and growth again. it's a good feeling and i'm thankful (now anyway) for those trials. they have aided me in a whole bunch of crazy and unforeseen ways. at least that's what my little masochist tells me. :)

one more cat to let out of my dingy little bag...

the trial run is over and now it's official and letting the secret out here will ensure my continued diligence- i am now one amongst the 5 lovely and inspiring contributors over at ANTLER magazine's blog. yay! and as you may have already guessed, my focus is art. :)

Antler is a new magazine dedicated to curating a life full of art, music, culture, and of course, beauty. the next issue isn't due to be released until september but the blog is updated daily and has already become a great resource for seeing who's up to what in this great big ol' world of ours. take a peak and leave comments everywhere and let me know what you think.

p.s. that's me in the middle. :)

tuesday afternoon truism...

back at my canvasses today. i inadvertently took a few days off and, though i felt pretty guilty about it at the time, it has definitely aided me in a lot of great ways. the best one being i'm calming down with all that frenzied "NOW! NOW! NOW! GOTTA FINISH THE PAINTING TODAY!" crap i put myself through with the last two paintings. i'm done beating myself up for no good reason. i'm trying to keep to beating myself up for GOOD reasons ONLY. ha! we'll see how long i can make that one stick. when it comes to the art thing, i am such a huge and pitiful glutton for punishment. no more, i say! no more! i want to enjoy being an artist- the luxury of it. having the time to play in paint is a pretty big privilege. and not one that everyone gets a slice of or fights to keep. i've lucked out in a lot of ways and i'm thankful everyday for the life i am currently leading. maybe that's where all the weird self-punishment comes from? masochistic? just a little. :) and that's silly. the best thing i can do, the most honest way i can give thanks and show appreciation for what i've got is to really enjoy them... not squander them by wasting time thinking badly of myself and my work. i'm in a good place. it's my job to remember that. and to protect it.

all better!

The Jog is the cure-all. it really is. moving fast through the wide, empty vineyard at dusk put a quick end to the despondent pity-party i was having for myself earlier today. endorphins are magical. so is sweat and hard breathing. small successes are what save people- breed resilience and self-reliance, enthusiasm. and now my little one is curled up at my feet, in love with her mama again. :) why i even take a day off from The Jog here and there is beyond me. i've got it in my head that it's dangerous to run every day. i'm pretty sure i'm wrong about that and should just do it anyway. it's just too good to me, too good for me. and now, at the end of the day, i'm finally in the mood to paint. ha! i think i'll have to settle for a night of crocheting.

the light...

i woke up with an odd feeling on my shoulders...

it's hot here today. and old dreams, old memories start to stir in weather like this.

it feels like southern california, and so i feel like i did when i lived there... uncomfortable and unsure, scared of something that i've never been able to name. very much like when a person begins to fear they're crazy or stupid or good for nothing. that softer breed of depression that seeps in rather than crashes down. the nag of regret... wishing you'd been able to say what needed to be said... beating yourself up for not being smarter, for trusting the wrong people, for not being able to see what was really going on... guilt over not being strong enough or big enough to be taken seriously or at least act as a shield... guilt over not knowing how to help...

i can't tell myself i was just a kid and feel forgiven.

there's something about the light- the way it casts or when it goes all hot and yellow that is trying to remind me of something i can't remember... a bad dream or some unexplainable thing... people i no longer know... and thankful for it... thankful to be hundreds of miles away.

this is where that indignation of mine comes from... that deep, irrefutable well of clear morals. i've never been that good at standing up for myself. i've only recently learned how to do it, what it is, and when speak up. it's been hard. it is a tough, uncomfortable thing... but i'm quite good at standing up for others. i always have been. i've got a loud mouth... i can take a hit... all i need is a cause. and you're it. those of you who have a hard time standing up for yourselves too- i'll stand up for you. i am impossible to argue with. my logic is flawless. i've never been defeated. never. not when it comes to defending you.

today...

we drove north passed jenner and found a tiny, over-looked trail that lead down to the water. there were two other families there and that was it. we had the whole cove pretty much to ourselves. i found a branch and gave it to my sweetie and he chucked it out in the waves and inga ran in after it. curious and sheepish for a little while, she warmed up to this newness fast- learned to dig her feet in and brace herself against a crashing wave. the man and the dog played and played and i was free to wander up and down the shore collecting polished rocks. i only picked up the smoothest white stones. from the tiniest to the not-so-tiny and i've got 2 apothecary jars full of them now. they are on the window-sill, lovely and natural and free and special. i even found a small, irregular piece of sea-glass and i thought about ships on the bottom of the ocean and the romantic people that throw messages out in bottles.

waiting for tomorrow...

tomorrow morning, bright and early (but not before i've reached my coffee quotient), my sweetheart and i are heading off to the beach.

i haven't been to the beach in at least 5 years. strange. very strange. especially since i'm from southern california.

i miss the sound of the surf and sea-gulls and looking for shells and digging my toes in to the sand and just watching, listening, enjoying. a person can finally breathe at the shoreline. really breathe. truly. i can't believe it's been this long since i've sat on a towel and breathed in the salt. i want my hair to go all wild again and my freckles to pop out in the sun.

DEtroit - that's how they say it...

direct quote from Pat-

"i hate that fuckin guy. i hope a piece of space junk falls on his ass."

yes. space junk. i'm still laughing non-stop. i don't know where the guy gets this stuff but something tells me if i found myself in a dive bar in detroit, i'd be with a whole bunch of men who talked the same way. god bless DEtroit and the men that are born there. your accent makes me smile.

die, scumbag!

putting on another pot of coffee- i did the damned dreaded dishes and am now free to while away my evening in sweat and oil. The Jog awaits and i've decided that its call with never go unanswered ever again. ever. it's too good to me to cast aside. my brain loves the fast rush of oxygen and so does my heart and my legs and my waist and my painting practice too. i'm trying to tame the dirty little snot-nosed perfectionist in me and ignore her to death. yes, ignore her til she dies. she's a mean little brat and i'm tired of sharing my life with her. she must be murdered or tied up and blindfolded at least. The Jog helps to silence her. all hail The Mighty Jog.

all-male revue...

funny little side-effect of working on the maid portraits: my tremendous aversion to housework has been horribly amplified. it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but i'm actually having a pretty tough time remembering when i actually did the dishes... i mean other than merely washing the ONE dish i'm getting ready to use. GROSS! yes, seems i am a dude in my own right. a bachelor who just so happens to be female. which sort of makes our humble little home a big-ass bachelor pad of sorts. i mean, my sweetie is legitimately a man and i've always, to one extent or another, exhibited traditionally (or stereotypically) "male" tendencies or characteristics- the aversion to cleaning being one of the more funny ones. so after i noticed this, i realized that, historically at least, painting is a traditionally male pursuit. my sweetheart is a mechanic- another traditionally masculine profession. throw in the fact that neither one of us seem to think it's our responsibility to do the laundry or the dishes after a long, hard day at work... the fact that we're both kinda, sorta pig-headed... and we'd rather watch MMA or "Deadliest Catch" rather than beautify our surroundings... we've got a totally typical dude-house here. ha!

i'll be taking a break from painting early today to do ALL the dishes. :)

what's a poem?

today i actually slept in. i lolled around drinking hazelnut coffee and spent a good 2 hours on the phone with my mama. i talked with my new neighbor and welcomed her in to our strange little happy fold. i did a bit of painting as the light started to change and the afternoon arrived. i took an evening walk with my dog and let her off the leash to run and play and smell the smells. she gets stuck on sniffing pretty easily and it's cute. one of my favorite sights in life is watching her velvet ears bounce as she trots along. i don't know why- it's just so damn cute! i smile every time. and then back at home, i tucked a tired man in bed and kissed his forehead.

now, i'm thinking about poems and what they are and what they mean and how to build them and that all the rules are a bit lame and "relevant" to whom? it's a mysterious thing and a precious thing and i'm getting closer and closer to the point of not caring too much if the poems are any good or not, if they're "correct". i care if they fill whatever damn hole it is that i'm trying to fill. i care if they cushion the blow of the world and if they're able to rip off the old band-aid and get me moving forward again. i care that they are fearless and unapologetic and if they sing. and i do want to be good too... whatever that means. but not the kind of good that brings acceptance, the kind of good that makes a happy life. the kind of good that makes the old fears die... or at least make them mean something. the kind of good a person feels at the end of a hard day's work... glad to put down the shovel and come on home.

calm...

while i was in the city last week, i had a really wonderful conversation with a person from my gallery. she was very attentive and patient and listened to me go on and on about the things i'm wrestling with- career blah, blah, blahs that, in the end, seemed a bit silly. she validated all my concerns but also let me know that i think a bit too much sometimes- a bad habit of mine that i had hoped gone unnoticed. ha! but it's good that it hasn't because hearing it from someone who cares about me, cares about my career, and cares about my general well-being really worked to relax me... put the brakes on my anxieties and bring me back down to earth. if this is my life's work, what's the rush? and she's right. 'nail on the head' right. and now that it's been a couple of days and i'm back to my normal schedule of painting and jogging, i feel clear and calm. the work has been and always will be the most important thing. i get ahead of myself sometimes... get all bent out of shape about things that, when it comes right down to it, are really just ego-strokers anyway. and i'm not in this for that reason. what matters most to me is that people have an honest, heart-felt experience with the work... even if it's a reactionary experience or one of disgust. almost any reaction is good so long as it isn't boredom. :) and that experience will happen as long as i am honest and heart-felt in the studio. my strange anxiety the other day about being too far from the city has been calmed. i'm lucky to live where i do- wide open fields to run through that are always in bloom... a different flower taking over each month... a place that's spread out enough to be LOUD at night and have it be alright... a place where all the stars come out and it's quiet enough to think and sing and get silly without feeling any embarrassment at all.

i need to send a thank you letter her way.

whew!

between First Thursday, staying up late with friends, cruising through galleries, talking shop, and a sangria (and margarita) fueled Fourth, this little girl is tuckered out! i mean, dang! super dang! the last few days went by so fast. so much fun and laughter. but every now and then, in the midst of celebration, my mind trailed back to my work and i'd miss it. even the blog. i missed this space too. its become such an wonderful part of my practice that taking a 2 day break from writing made me feel a bit out of sorts in a way- like i was forgetting something important... those days where you check and re-check the fridge, hoping something new and delicious has appeared... or like when you lose your keys and look for them in the strangest places like the medicine cabinet or inside the microwave and all the while they've been right in front of you- hidden right out in the open.

it's a good thing that the blog has become this important to me, this necessary.

today, i'll get back to my canvasses and take an evening jog. it's over-cast and i hope it stays that way- cool and breezy and comfortable. i miss my practice. i miss the smell of my oil. i miss the way my feet feel pounding down the dirt roads in the vineyard. i miss my schedule. 2 days was too long to be away from these things...

seems i've built a life i actually, kinda, sorta love. :)

fun!

getting ready for the First Thursday art shenanigans in the city tonight! yay! always a wonderful time and it's so good to get out of the house, away from my work, and look at the work of others. plus there's wine and cheese and all sorts of things that are bad for my waist-line but, thanks to The Jog, i no longer have to worry too much about stuff like that. not that i ever really did. :) life's too short to worry about vanity pounds.

anybody who's out and about tonight in san francisco, i'll be rounding out my evening at my gallery. swing on by and say hi! especially art-school friends. it's been too long since i've seen your happy, beautiful faces.

officially official...

july 1st. summer's here. and with it, all my old dreams of traveling and artist residencies. the country seems too quiet lately. i've been aching for the pace of the city again. this happens every few months and probably always will until i get back to the city. i miss it. i miss the tall buildings and trains. i miss the wind and the chill off the bay. i miss the galleries and museums and the fashion-show that exists on every corner of every street. i miss having so many people to watch. i need to start saving money again. i know i can't hide out in the countryside forever... or for much longer. i have to be in the thick of it, moving quick and bustling along with the impatient throng of other humans. wine-land is a place to get away from all that or a place to come once you're established and you want some quiet. it's where you come when the lights start to hurt your eyes and the noise starts to make you cranky. but i'm not cranky and my eyes don't hurt and i miss everything that comes along for the ride when you live in a big city. i miss san francisco. i miss my beloved oakland. and even though it's not that long of a drive, it's still not the same. not nearly. i've got some planning to do. and some dreaming too. The Jog helps with those things and so does painting. it's time to get back on board with all the big dreams that got me out of a small town the first time.