Sunday, 28 September 2014

Sunday Blissful Sunday

Sunday morning is here, and I can't help but dread tomorrow. I don't know if anyone out there can relate, but starting a new week always seems to pull all the strings inside me and I never fail to end up a bundle of nerves. I blame myself for listening to Manic Monday from such a young age. Somehow the song left a mark in my head and now I can never see Monday as any ordinary day. :)

I suppose having three children to take care of makes it a tad bit harder (and a tad is a mild way of putting it). It's not the same as waking up in the morning and rushing to get ready for work. I would say more like having a tornado swirl pass by you and when it does go away, you're left stunned for a very long time. But of course, after every tornado, there's always peace. The kind that you cherish and hang on to, hoping that it would never go away. Here's a little peek into some of my peaceful moments, before the mini tornado winds come home from school...

As you can see, other than my art, doll making has been a lifeline for me these days. There's something very therapeutic about sewing with your hands, just the way women used to do it back in the old days. The rhythmic movements seem to pull you into such a calm state of mind and I can't be more thankful that I found a whole new world through it.

Well, I'll get back to my precious Sunday now while the children are still fast asleep, because there will be no slowing down after they're all awake. So I hope you'll have a wonderful one too, and hopefully tomorrow when Monday comes, we'll be lucky enough to see only clears skies and no tornado in sight. ;)


Note: All my dolls are available at Whimsylandia

Sunday, 21 September 2014

When All You Need is Silence...

...close your eyes, and let your wings take you away.

Wishing you peace and serenity this Sunday to get you through the coming week.

Much love,

Note: please click on the images to visit the links.

Monday, 4 August 2014

A Wonderful Disaster

You know, one of the toughest things about my profession is being a mother at the same time. Sometimes combining the two seems almost impossible to do, and most days, frustration hangs above my head like a stubborn migraine. That alone, I won't conceal.

If you ask me what sort of things I have to deal with, I think I can tell you a million and one stories that have made me kicked and screamed inside. Tears are very often involved, and there were even times when I found myself in a downward spiral. Exhaustion is always the biggest issue. And you know how badly things can go when you are sleep deprived. Add in the all the bickering, the shouting and a ton of house chores to do, then you end up with a sour and cranky mommy artist. Think of my poor, poor husband. :)

This particular drawing, for example, has a story of its own. Like many of my stories, it started with a lovely day and I was all excited to start working on a new idea that popped into my head the night before. As I worked happily, music blasting away, ignorant of my surroundings, I got up and turned away from the table for a couple of minutes. And when I turned back, my two year old son was already on my chair, a sharp pencil in his hand and a huge smile on his face. He had left scratches here and there on my drawing and I remember feeling the blood drained away from my body as I saw it. Two hours work, ruined. Just like that. I wanted to tear my hair out and on the verge of throwing away the drawing. I had big plans and by then I couldn't even look at it. So I took a deep breath, let it out and walked out of the studio.

Half an hour later, I came back, ready to face the catastrophe. I grabbed my "tools" and started Operation Detour. It was time for a change of plan. I spent the next couple of hours drawing, shading, smudging and scratching like never before. Everything I imagined about this drawing was gone and I was surprised to see how it was shaping into. Something new, something very different.

In the end, I must say, I found great satisfaction and utter peace as I looked at my drawing. I pushed myself far enough to do something out of my comfort zone and I owe it all to my little boy. I suppose circumstances took control that day and I'm glad I didn't completely lost my head and threw away the drawing. It's something I'm still training myself to do, with three growing children, I'm sure it's going to be a long process.

So the moral of the story? Always remember to keep check with your surroundings when working, never underestimate a curious two year old with super fast hands, and above all, stay calm in every studio-child related disaster. Remember all that, and I think we'll survive. :)

Much love,

PS: No child was harmed during the making of this drawing. Only a little stunned when his mommy let out a scream after seeing his "masterpiece'. The drawing was sold a few days later, so it was a happy ending after all. :)