A Day Off to Paint

When the local Arboretum offered a day-long course on watercolour journaling, I instantly wanted to do it. While the self-permission took considerably longer given the self torture of questions like "shouldn't I work on my dissertation", shouldn't I work on my business" and shouldn't I focus on the house", doing something that demonstrated zero end-game productivity still won. It was definitely worth my time as I learned a great deal about watercolour technique and how to develop my own style.

Elizabeth Ellison was a wonderful instructor; encouraging while guiding at the same time. She oversaw the rubbishing of my "bad" pre-mixed greens, and I gathered enough courage to create my own secondary colours. I must say, I preferred my own mixture. The sustaining messages of my life has been to only use clean colors by mixing only a couple of colours; avoiding the tempting muddiness that pre-mixed colours or many colours can produce. This was strongly emphasized again. And again. Which is good - being reminded prevents me from being lazy.

While the course was about creating a journal with supporting watercolours to provide imagery on what you're writing, the demand of the participants was mostly around painting technique, in which the instructor was very obliging. After I timidly poked about with the first flower (above), I knew that to gain value for myself, I needed to tackle the stuff that scared me to death. 

1. Green
2. Mountains
3. Trees

Her example was stunning, but I wasn't too displeased with my sad "copy" of her demonstration. For the first time in my short watercolouring lack of career, I was able to actually produce something that looked marginly like mountains. What was very pleasing was that I could see my errors and know how to correct them in the future.

This one probably is pretty scary, but trust me, it's a good tree. It's a freakingly good tree by my past standards. I have often heard the watercolouring adage that you start with light and add the dark. However, in my brain, there was an exception when it came to trees. So when she watched me do a non-photographed tree (very scary), she thankfully caught me little self-made exception and I started over. I was informed to stop being scared of dark colours and allow my branches to actually extend beyond the foliage. Oh. 

It was an awesome day. Learned so much. Dropped off at a lot of fear. Picked up a lot of desire for experimentation. Need to buy a watercolour book that I can treat as a journal for my travels. Very excited!

The Appreciation of the Philatelist Enthusiast, ie, ME.

When I was a little girl, I presumed that everybody collected stamps. Please note that collecting is not having some sheets of Mickey Mouse from The Maldives. Even as I grew older and collected the Officials from the 1800s, it did not seem unreasonable that postal history was a common hobby. As my collection grew with used and proof sets of each department, fancy and hand cancels of all varieties, and many unique covers (that's right, nod your head and take another sip of drink), While I held a certain reserve of pride to be considered a "serious" contending exhibitor with a  nice array of medals, there was still the assumption that there was a broad knowledge, even if people did not choose to read up on rare cancels at the age of 13. OK, maybe I was a /little/ odd. 

Time passed and while I realised that my exposure to stamps was a bit stronger than the Average Joe, there was something a little surreal about going into the Smithsonian's Postal History Museum and easily explaining nearly all the exhibits with a rather extensive history. You may not be able to see it well, but when I actually saw the Kicking Mule stamper on exhibit, I gasped loudly, dropped my bag and started an anxious process of getting the perfect photo with a mere iPhone. I was initially unaware of others around me, but did slightly become conscientious with my little scene. This may not be the best time to expose deeper nerdiness by owning a rather old book that expounds on the history of the Kicking Mule cancel (Yes, I'm capitalising Kicking Mule). While I have never been interested in the Crown Jewels, there may have been minor consideration on how to nick the stamper.  

When I got to the stamp exhibit room, I nearly passed out when I saw the hand cancel exhibit. Having owned every single type of cancel on exhibit plus more, I felt a little smug. There was a slow realisation that my stuff WAS cool! It's in the Smithsonian after all. The video below will help you share in my rapt excitement and recognition. 

I think the moment of true smugness really hit me when I saw, under glass, the book in the photo. All I could think was, "but that's at home on my shelf." Mostly because it is. It took several seconds for me to realise that it wasn't my book, but apparently it was cool enough for the same edition to be presented here at the Postal History Museum.

Clearly I was far cooler as a teenager than I possibly had previously realised.

Some sarcasm applied.

Some relief definitely present.

An enlightenment of how much my mother knows about all kinds of stuff.

Uselessness

There is possibly nothing more useless than the Sphero toy. A round plastic ball that lights up and is controlled by your smart phone will never justify $129. Ever. (Granted, I waited until it hit an Amazon deal and got it for $85.)

"What does it do Honey?"

"It rolls around!"

It does indeed. I'm just sorrowful that we don't have a cat.

Seriously, it is sad. My very intelligent, 35 year old, successful, niche market consultant husband is completely enamored with the plastic remote controlled ball. He explained in great detail how he can create mazes for what I have dubbed Elmer, and "if I get TWO, they can joust!"

Like I'm going to spend another $129 on a second waste of plastic. Or $119. Or $85.

Another note, this seems to have a strong male attraction. The only use that fellow females have found it useful for is a babysitter for their husbands. I just can't complain too much because that scent he bought me was $96. Technically that is not the most useful purchase on the planet either.

The truly sad part here is that when I suggested he take it down to the living room floor where there's a lot of space and he can build his mazes, he expressed concern of making our 6-year old daughter aware of it.

Apparently the toy is to remain only his. I'll remember this when he takes over her Lego sets.

New Beginnings....

I never would have believed that I may shed tears as I eagerly stepped into a new chapter of my life, but writing my reflections post in my professional blog created quite the swallowing tasks as as my emotions started welling up. The opportunities that I have received throughout my life have been truly wonderful, and I must never forget that.

However, I also welcome the new chapter with open arms, although sleeping body may be more appropriate. Since my last day as director, I have slept long healthy hours, feeling excited and refreshed, while mortified with the time on the clock. I presume there is some overarching exhaustion that has embedded itself into me and will take time drain out.

Meanwhile, my priorities have remained the same, but this time I can actually act on that prioritisation :) This is excellent news for my family, dissertation, consultancy, and the rambling house that demands so much attention! I do believe I'm approaching a more normal balance to life. Elle is beyond happy, and frankly, that is the best test of the decision being correct.