Hopeful

The house is coming together and I only have a few boxes left to unpack. I still feel sad about my studio at the old house, and my husband knows it.  He told me we can probably build a studio on the side of the house, either an 8x10 or an 8x12. We are going to go out and measure the area this morning. I hope an 8x12 can fit there sine every square inch is a plus! It's going to be an expensive, long process since I will also need electric, water and permits that go along with building a structure like this.  I want lots of windows too!

For now though, while I save up money, and dream about what my future glass studio is going to look like, I'm switching gears. I am pulling out my water color paper, paints, pastels and preparing a small corner in my office for creating art. It's funny how creating art keeps me happy and sane.

a funny thing....

As I'm settling in my new home, and my new neighborhood, I've been feeling a bit unsettled. It's one of those feelings that a major change needs to occur personally. Not that buying a new house wasn't a major change after living in the other house for 19 years.  I'm 46 years old have never felt an attachment to a structure, like a house.  While I lived in different places, it was always my "home" but I don't miss my old homes. However, I do miss the people that were in my life, especially family that is now gone.  My favorite place that I lived was in Rockaway, NY. It was mostly because of my Aunt, who passed away many years ago, but was also because of the friends I had there too. I also knew people just because they lived on my street or people that just walked to different places. The feeling of community had escaped me the entire time I've lived in Texas. Now I live on cul-de-sac, and as I drove home and turned on the street I live on, about a dozen young kids were playing in the street. When I got out of my car, the kids all started to say hello to me, by my name.  I even had one that was on his scooter pull up and start talking to me. It's a funny thing, because that hasn't happened to me since I lived in NY. Not only that but, I know the names of most of the neighbors that live on this street.... Maybe I will have a new favorite place here.

Now I just have to figure out why I'm feeling a bit unsettled in other aspects in my life. At times, I still feel like I don't know what I want to do when I grow up... and am considering going back to school for something....

The view from the upstairs game room where I can see the neighbors dogs play.

The view from my upstairs office. It's early so all the kids are in school right now instead of playing in front of my house.

Art stroll

Today was a beautiful day, sunny and in the low 70's. It was perfect for the Art Stroll.  Last year, I was a participating artist and had fun, but I didn't get to go to all of the other homes to see the     artists worrk. This year I didn't want to participate, I wanted to stroll! I spent a good two hours venturing in and out of artists yards and homes, amazed at all the different types of artwork. Pottery, painting, fabric and glass artists. The first stop on my route was Imogene Lurman's home where I found her sitting in the front yard painting on a porcelin seashell, surrounded by her all her other artwork. She did regognize me from the watercolor class I took from her over the summer, adn we chatted for a bit before I continued on my way. I stopped by Lousie Craig's home where all the of artists from the San Antonio glass art guild were showing and selling their art. It was nice to see people I know and all of their great work. On my way back to my car, I stopped at Imogenes house to find out if she was done with the painting on the shell. Sure enough she was about to take it out of the kiln. She was surprised that I wanted to buy it and she hadn't signed it yet. It required a second firing for her signature, but I told her I would do the second firing.  It's a simple painting, but I love the colors and the seagull.

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Sitting room

Yesterday I finally put  my china cabinet together in our sitting room. Dusting and cleaning all the nic-nacs before putting them back in there designtated spots was a task.  The nic-nacs all represent something special, and I have the cabinet split in 6 sections. The top left is a Christmas section, the middle left is for swavorski crystal florals, the bottom left is for Mexican, Central and South American items. On the top right side I have Italina and Middle Eastern items. The left middle are items from Greece, and the bottom right are Japanese and Chinese items.

Now after all these years, my husband just thought I had a lot of stuff and never realized how I had this divided and was surprised when explained all this to him last night.  I think he just thought I had a lot of "stuff". I tried to take a picture of the cabinet up close, but because of the mirror backing a picture does look good with my face in it.

Here's a peak into my sitting room. I think it's just a cozy room, perfect for my hubby and I to sit and chat, or watch TV (If we can agree on what to watch).  I still need to put up curtains, but I'll get there.

                         

He's gone

 I would run up the stairs as fast as I could when they would yell down at me from the window to tell me he was on th phone, just to say hello.  The excitemnt I felt when he would pop up for a visit is beyond words, and only in a childs heart. The visits would happen maybe once a year, if I was in New York, maybe twice a year. Up until he went to prison.

I was turning into the most rebellious teenager, I resented my mother, and loved my absent father. I was turning into my mothers worst nightmare......   We were living in Greece and by the time I was 15 my mother couldn't handle me anymore so she sent me to New York to live with him. He was fresh out of prison, working in  an all night diner and living in the apartment above. It was located on Flatbush avenue across the street from a police station. The noise was 24/7.

I learned a few thing about him while I stayed with him. He liked to cook, and he cooked very well. He liked Charles Bronson movies and was amused by Boy George (hey, it was the early 80's). He wrote poetry and loved to take photograph's, and he still loved his guns.  The one thing that annoyed the shit out of him was that I smoked pot so he would bring me packs of cigarettes and tell me to smoke those instead....  He really didn't know what to do with me, and I got bored. I left after a couple of months and headed out on my own.  I still loved him, and when I would get in trouble I would call and he would take care of things.
 We would lose touch with each other for  a year or two, and then get back in touch, but in 1998 he disappeared for 11 years and didn't know what had happened to him. I honestly thought he was dead back then.  Then through people he got in touch with me and that's when I found out he was living in Kosovo.  I was forty years old and when I told my half sister (from my mother side) that I was in touch with him again, she yelled at me as to why I even bother with him when he was abusive to my mother and didn't help raise me.  That made me think really hard......

This is the only picture I have of him and me when I was little, and it isn't blurry in realty, but I guess this is how it is meant to be shown on here.  He died today at 6:15 am our time, so mid afternoon in Kosovo.
May the lord forgive him for his sins and I pray he rests in peace.

Sunny Sunday

It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining and with all the rain we got the last few days, the mums I planted around our mailbox have bloomed.

All of our remaining possesions are finally out of storage. My living room, office, and the kids bedrooms are stacked to the brim with boxes.  I donated a truck and a car full of items at the local goodwill. I will keep sorting, putting away, and donating as I unpack.

I also feel a bit sad as all of my art supplies, tools and kilns are lined up along the walls of the garage, up on shelves and stored away with no studio to go into.  My 10 sheets of Tekta completly shattered in the move today.  I think any glass artist would be upset about that. I truly miss my old studio...... I will just have to brush it all off, and think of a scheme to get a studio again.