Author Image TheCraftaholicDG

On Perseverance, and a New Video

Recently I while on a job interview, I was asked the question, “What is your best quality?”

This of course is meant to be a sort of testy kind of question that employers ask to find out what your values are, and what you hold as importance. It tells them what level of perception you have. I answered of course, to the best of my ability, saying that my best quality is perseverance. No matter what the obstacle, no matter what adversity I face, I never ever give up. I do not.

Oh, sometimes I get distracted and put my coffee mug down on the kitchen table, and sometimes forget that I put it there after wandering about, chasing my kitten from whatever hijinks he’s attempting to get himself into. But I always come back to it, both literally and figuratively.

 

That is perhaps the key to life, it seems-never giving up. Sometimes it seems tempting to just quit and try some new thing, but when things become difficult in life, that is when you continue and keep going. There is only one person who can speak your message, the message you were meant to convey to the world. Once you know what that is, keep at it. Why give up, anyway? Giving up means you never see the end result.

I’ve been blogging for 11 years now. It’s been a hot minute. I do not sit at my computer and write to you because this pays my bills, but because there is a message yet to convey, a message I am still speaking of, and I will continue. I will always keep sitting here with my cryptic yet Buddha-like posts, updating you on my life and the things that go on.

Speaking of which, I have finished a new video, again.

 

I used the Dina Wakely Mixed Media Art Journal, and Deco Art Stencils and Paints.

 

I do hope you are enjoying my videos as much as I enjoy making them. And thankfully, my kitten was not an asshole. He did watch me work though, which was nice.

 

 

Saying Hello to Autumn

It’s finally fall. The leaves are changing colors, the air is brisk and cold, and it is finally the time of year when drinking five cups of coffee is justified, because of the cold weather.

 

My cat Ozzy is being a bit of a terror and a bit of a sweetheart as is the way with most kittens.

I’d been battling some hives, and it is finally overwith, which makes me think perhaps the weather or the allergens in the air in Ohio, were taking it’s toll on me. Maybe my body needed to get used to Ohio. I do love it here. I love the coolness of the air, I love sitting and typing away here while my cat sits on my lap trying to figure out what it is I am doing, and I love the person that I am with.

I should mention: I am not an easy woman to love. Not at all. I am a bit moody and hot tempered, though I do cook rather well, and clean up nicely. We all have our quirks and things we believe to be faults. I believe that self love is understanding the madness you have and still being present and still being okay with yourself and not being angry. I do not think self love is trips to the spa or bubble baths with wine goblets on hand. That is a fake sort of love. Self love is taking a shower even when you’re depressed and do not want to get out of bed. It is looking outside and noticing the beauty in the trees, and the birds that sing.

Autumn. I love this time of year so much. I love making cookies and cakes for my children, baking bread at home in efforts to keep the chill away, and a good steaming cup of strong Bustelo coffee with boiled milk so that the coffee stays hot longer. I love boots and sweaters and crocheting up a storm for all the people I love. This is my time of year indeed. And this year, I get to spend it with the most wonderful lady this side of Ohio. She makes things better.

On that note, I have made yet another video which I have posted on youtube, of my artwork in my art journal.

Please do subscribe. And if you make anything inspired by my videos, please do leave a comment and let me know!

 

I used the same products I used in the last video, nothing really different.

New Art Video up

Well hello again. I come to you today with a new video that I’ve posted on YouTube. I’m on a roll here, eh?

I am working on a a few art projects and do need to get back to my book which needs editing before I can work on the next book.

Clouds again. I cannot seem to rid myself of my love of clouds and I am okay with that.

 

Anyway here’s the video:

 

 

Once again I used Deco Art Americana paints, Deco Art Mixed Media Misters and stencils, and store brand paints purchased at Michael’s.

 

On Listening to a Friend

Greet every morning with a smile, is what most people tell you when you inform them that you’ve not been in the most pleasant of moods. Think positively, they tell you. Things could be worst, they say. Well thanks, you think to yourself. Sure, it could be worst but right now, this here that I’m going through feels like hell.

Do us all a favor, will you? When a friend tells you that they aren’t well, don’t give them a bunch of new age hooey. Please. Just….sit and listen. Sit and listen and let them cry and for the love of god when they start babbling about how they feel, don’t tell them from the first sentence, that they should get counseling. Maybe they know this. A lot of times when people say this from the first sentence out of their mouth, it often feels like they just don’t want to listen. Like, dude go tell someone else, is how it feels.

Just listen. When a friend comes to you for some sort of rant about life, or tells you they are depressed, just listen to them and let them cry and wail if  they have to. Give hugs. And maybe the next day, go over to their house or text them or something, asking to take them out to dinner and ask them if they bathed or did something to care for themselves. Sometimes when folks are depressed, they just need to let it all out by crying over a friend’s shoulder.

With that being said, I have a new painting I finished. This is to be the first in a set of paintings I hope to create in a series of tarot card paintings. My hope is to have them printed into a set of tarot cards.

This painting is “The Magician” in the Tarot series, and the definition is:

This figure represents a travelling entertainer and showman. Whenever she appears in the cards, you can be sure that the old adage, “The quickness of the hand deceives the eye” is coming into play! The magician is always number one -at center stage and in the spotlight. This apparent forthrightness is misleading because there is always something going on behind the scenes.

This image exudes originality and confidence. The card is associated with positive actions, individuality, and creativity.

Meaning: Generally, the card shows new beginnings, the start of a new cycle, a sense of purpose, willpower and initiative. The Magician is a card of potential, showing the importance of a new enterprise.


This painting is available as a pre-order now by CLICKING HERE.

 

For the Friday through Monday Morning Mothers

It was a regular sort of day in New Jersey, just another hot summer day in August. I was not feeling happy and joyful, but then I never really did. My children were away with their father, and being the sort of mother that I am, I tend to have a bit of codependency with my children, in that I am usually only happy or inspired when they are present. Most people think this is a sign of good motherhood. It’s not. It’s codependency.

I was on the phone with a friend, who suggested I get away for a few days. Things had been hitting the fan, and I needed to regroup. I was desperate for a change of some sort. I needed to get away from the madness that is New Jersey. It was long overdue. I was bored in New Jersey. Boredom for me, is quite dangerous. Add loneliness to the mix and it can be quite volatile. I needed to get out, and fast. But I had nowhere to go before I met her through facebook.

I met her through a group on Facebook and it was nice to talk to her, and chat about life and art and philosophy. I really was tired of being the lone artist in a pool of drunks and drug addicts. That seems to be all there is in New Jersey, save a few folks that I knew who are a bit on the creative side. I really only spent any sort of time with folks who are creative in some way. I really could give two fucks what you do when I’m not around. Just be creative, damnit. I mean, can you try to just not be one of those annoying people who only think of vanity and loud music created on a laptop? Please?

I was starving for more creative people. I really was. We’d been texting and communicating for quite some time, and I figured fuck it. I’m just going to pack a few things, get in my car, and meet this person who makes me look forward to checking my phone and sends me pictures that make me smile. She made me smile.

I got to Ohio and I absolutely fell in love. I fell in love with her and with this beautiful state, that has the wonderful combination of cities and rural counties. I love that. There’s suburbs far from me, and cities nearby. No annoying traffic jams. No more people staring at the large amounts of black clothing I wear. No more of that. Just peace. Just her, and some peace and quiet.

My children told me they wanted to spend a year with their dad when I moved here. “We want to get to know our daddy the way we never really have had a chance to,” they said.

This broke my heart, but at the same time, I had to let them go. With tears in my eyes, I acquiesced to their wishes, and decided, fuck it. I’ll just stay here. So I left New Jersey and do not plan on moving back. But depression was rampant within me. I felt as though perhaps I am no longer a mother, because I choose to have my children Friday through Monday.

Motherhood these days is seen as all self sacrificing. It is the idea that if you are not all self sacrificing, if you are not the martyr, then you are not a “real” mother. You are not a good mother if you are not killing yourself in the name of your children, not killing your dreams and career in the name of your children. Mothers who work full time are stigmatized. Mothers who allow their kids father to be a real figure in their children’s lives are seen as neglectful or uncaring.

But since when is it uncaring for me to take out time to focus on my art and my career as an artist? Since when is it  neglectful to choose to pave a way where you are able to make a living doing the things you love? I should give a bit of a back story, though. From the moment my daughters were born, I quit my job. I was (and still am, sort of) a June Cleaver mom. I stayed home and baked cookies and went to PTA meetings and made meals for my family. I went to mom groups. Even when we moved to NJ, my girls went to Girl Scouts and 4-H club meetings. We went to the zoo, and did all sorts of things. I truly and in every way lived just for my children. When my eldest was born, their dad worked long arduous hours and so more often than not I was alone. I took care of two children without much support at all. I did it. When we lived in NJ their dad was far off in Minnesota. I didn’t have children with the thought that I would ever be a single mother, but this is the life that was handed to me. I tried making lemonade out of the lemons handed to me. Moving to New Jersey was so tough for me. And so, this new chapter in my life means I am no able to focus on my career as an artist while still being a mother to my daughters.

For the Friday through Monday morning moms- I see you. I hear you. You aren’t a bad mother. You birthed children from your body and you care for them whilst taking care of yourself and your needs. That is an awesome thing. It is a good thing, and I am here holding space for you, acknowledging you. You exist and you are heard and loved.

I have to admit. I am blessed to be able to say I am friends with my ex husband. This was not always the case, but then there comes a time when one must put the needs of their children ahead of their own desire to squash the person like a bug. So we get along for the sake of our daughters.

I do not have to justify my actions to anyone, nor do I care to. I do not have to make myself the martyr anymore. I can be a mother and focus on my career, and doing so does not lessen who I am as a mother. Being a martyr does not show my children that they can be all they can be. It does not teach them lessons on working towards the things you love, and this is the lesson many fail to learn.

If my children are to know or understand or learn anything about the life I have lived, I hope to teach them that a woman of color, a Latina woman, is able and capable of doing anything she sets her mind to WHILE STILL BEING A MOTHER.

I miss them. I miss seeing them every morning. I miss having them every single day, but I have them Friday through Sunday nights (and sometimes Monday morning). They still see me reach for my coffee before I say hello. They still wake me up around 8:00 am asking for what adventure we’ll go on. They still come to me, I still parent them, and they are still mine. No one is taking that away from me. No one can take away the bond I share with my children, or the way we bake cookies together and laugh together, how we watch netflix and eat snacks until 10pm together, or how fond they are of my asshole kitten. I am and always will be their mother.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to crochet a couple of hats for my kids. You know, the ones on pinterest with the bunny ears? It’s getting cold out. They’re gonna need a hat. And maybe some cookies.

The Bird Girl and the Owlishl waif

 

The screams all sounded the same, they

were the disdain of her against the world, the

longing

her longing

her-this owl girl who in shame hid her wings

her-this mighty warrior that no one could see because no one had the

magical eyes to see her magical ways, they

just all thought her air headed.

oh, the longing.

the longing.

longing

it was the hellish weeping and gnashing of teeth

such unspeakable madness within her, the mighty owl girl

breathe

just breathe

just say no and

just breathe

breathe through the silent screams,

they all sound the same

they all sound the same in her ears and her mind

the madness!

how long can she survive this longing, and this madness, the

disdain of they to her

it drove her to do things she never thought she would, it

drove her to long

for things she never thought she would

the yelling and the loud sounding voices

screaming insults in her ear

it’s enough to drive anyone mad

She lived this way: chasing small blips of lights

meandering through life in her sea of tears

her madness, she wears it like a cloak upon her shoulders

it keeps her warm at night

it keeps me warm at night and shelters me from the harsh wind and the loud sounding insults

No one comes close

DON’T

DON’T COME TOO CLOSE!

Pieces of silent screams blare in her head

keep it to myself.

no one gives a shit, anyway

this is her past.

she decided to

put on her owl wings

she decided she’d had enough

so she heard the call of a bird girl in the wind, calling her

from lo, that place in the bogs where she did dwell

she heard the call of the bird girl

so she put on her feathers

and flew away

away from the desolation

away from the madness

away from the hell

away, away

she flew away

to the bird girl

who loved her

despite her madness and

painted her wings the colors of the rainbow

 

 

Announcement & New Follow Along Video Up!

Been a bit quiet, sorry about that. I should though, tell you why it is that I’ve been so absent from blogging.

The past two years were the hardest I have ever been through. No one prepares you for how difficult life can be, especially when things happen to you that you do not plan on happening, such as losing a job or getting a divorce.

Even still, with friends around to support you and be a shoulder to cry on, still no one prepares you for how difficult it is to move on, when seeking a job, people will turn you down simply because of your age, then hire someone half your age.

No one tells you how hard it is in New Jersey to find work, or how high the rent is. No one tells you that it is almost impossible.

No one tells you how hard it is to move on when living with a narcissist. No one told me.

 

I moved to Ohio. I did this because I wanted to start over with someone special who treats me the way I deserve to be treated.

 

I hope to be able now, to post more frequently.

With no further adew, here are pictures of a project I recently worked on and filmed a video about:

 

 

I used paints by Deco Art and Dina Wakley media (by Ranger).

The video:

 

I hope you enjoyed the video. Anyone of my friends live in Ohio? Leave a hello!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silver Platters and moving on

Owl totem. Mixed media on paper. For purchase inquiries, please contact me.

Becoming a parent means forever changing your focus in life. It means that your perspective in life will change, and you will view the world differently. If you are an active person in your child’s life, it means that the reason you wake in the morning is because of your children. You wake up and go to your shitty job, and smoke cigarettes only with the window all the way rolled down, because of your children. Saturday mornings don’t mean sleeping until 12 then nursing a hangover. It means waking up at 8 am, to make pancakes and eggs and hashbrowns or pancakes and bacon. It means you shift your focus. You can’t whine about how much your life sucks or expect everything to be handed to you. It won’t. And truth be told, though your friends may care, they have their own shit to deal with and often do not have time to nurse your fragile ego.

So why is it that some adults expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter? Are we creating a society of white privilege, where people have been lead to believe that it is okay NOT to work, and just sit on your ass and expect the whole of the world to come to you and nurse you with their tit? Since when have these masses of people come to believe that it is quite alright to sit and do nothing, amassing monies handed to you by the government, while being given everything, and never having to work a day in your life?

When I don’t work, I get depressed. If I stay in my New Jersey studio apartment too long, I get depressed. I will be forthright: I have suffered from various forms or levels of depression most of my life, and have sought help when needed. But I know what works for me and what makes me feel better. I’d rather be happy. I’d rather not want to do what Anthony Bourdain did to himself. I’d rather look at the flowers that bloom, and appreciate the sun. I would rather sit with my family and have a good meal of Biftek con Papa Fritas (Steak and French Fries, Boriqua style). Add a little mix of equal parts mayonaise and ketchup, and you’ve got love on a plate. Food. Food and laughter and family is what creates in me this need to better myself. It makes me want to get up and go. The smile on my daughter’s face when I present her with a nice meal, the laughter on my youngest daughter, when I tell stories about things I did as a teen….these are the stuff of life. These are the things that make life absolutely delicious.

Life and all of it’s beauty does not come from the need to put others down. It does not come to you handed on a silver platter, nor is it driven to you nor does it go out of it’s way for you to notice it. Life is beautiful. But true beauty does not go out of it’s way to be noticed. Real beauty is noticed from afar. This is not a cliche moment, where I say beauty comes from within. You should already know that. This is when I say that you need to get up and move your body, and take walks, do yoga, plant flowers, take a long hot shower, have pizza with your friend, and if you have none, ask yourself why that is. The secret to enjoying life is the actual getting up off of your arse, and actually appreciating the earth.

So why is it that so many these days expect happiness to come straight to them? When did we become a society, where confidence is mistaken for arrogance? I will not coddle you. I will not sit and baby you, I will expect you to get up and help yourself. I will give you tools to help you better yourself, and just because I can help myself through depression or through the illness of fibromyalgia, of which I have suffered for 20 years now, just because I can get up and not whine and complain, does not mean I am not ill. It means I learned how to be an adult, and move on my own. I learned how to grow up.

If you are to be my friend, and if we are to do this dance through life, please be happy with your life, and be happy with who you are. I cannot entertain you if you are not happy with yourself, because all that will happen, is that you will drag me down in the mud with you, and that is not what I want to do with my life. That is not what I want. I have fought too hard and gone through too much hell and high water to allow anyone to drag me down in the mud with them.

I am not an enemy for not feeling sorry for you. I heard the reasons why you are depressed. I’d like to hear the reasons you have to be happy and grateful for. Sometimes the record gets scratched, and the song repeats over and over and over, and sometimes….sometimes you have to get up and change the record.

It’s okay to sit and cry about something for a minute, but don’t stay there too long. I know how depression works. It’s like a cancer. It spreads and takes over but it does so when you entertain it. Move beyond the depression. Keep going. Get dressed anyway. Take a shower anyway. Go out anyway. Exercise anyway. Laugh anyway.

Real friends do not coddle.

On Self Love

Sometimes self love means walking away

sometimes self love

means being in this cocoon and

shunning the world

self love, it

isn’t all bath bombs and trips to Sephora

it is sometimes knowing

believing

that you are better than the unhealthy coping mechanisms

self love is the idea

that perhaps I am important

perhaps I can move forward

with

or without you

—————-

 

 

This painting is available for purchase. This painting is about being in this cocoon and knowing ones self and realizing that it is okay to be alone sometimes.

Please contact me to purchase by using the contact me page in this website.

 

Product Review: Jane Davenport Mermaid Markers

 

 

So I recently purchased a set of Jane Davenport Mermaid Markers, and I thought I’d share a short review about my thoughts on these markers. I know I’ve been a bit quiet lately. Sorry about that. I’ve been busy with school and such things.

I’m trying to put together some more art to sell in various formats, so if there’s something you’d like made, do let me know by leaving a comment or clicking on the contact me page on this site.

 

I posted it on youtube, here’s the video: