Poor, neglected Birdwoman!  I miss posting regularly.  We're gearing up for a cross-country move to the Northwest Corner of Montana, so I've had to let some things (my blog, par exemple) languish a bit in order to maintain a State of Calm.  The details of our move (exact timing, where, exactly we're going to live, etc...) are taking a long time to flesh out because 1) a large corporation is involved and 2) the company is based in Europe, and therefore its employees know how to take nice long, restful vacations.

I have been working a little bit on a series of small graphite drawings.

I love where the work is headed and I have about a million ideas for more images.  Once we're settled in our new home, with things nicely tucked away and baby-proofed, I expect to have more time to work, and more time to share!

Progress is slow but steady these days.  I blame my baby for being such a fun little guy.  Now that we're all finally getting some good sleep, and spending more time laughing than crying, amnesia has set in and I'm ready to pop out a hundred more babies.  I have only vague, hazy memories of being completely overwhelmed by the newborn and early infant stages.  Was all of that swaddling and yoga ball bouncing just a dream?  I still find the occasional earplug tucked in a pocket, or rolling around the bottom of a drawer, that proves it was all real.

I'm also in the process of packing up my studio.  I've decided not to renew my lease for another year.  There's a good chance we might be relocating out west for a year or so, and even if we end up staying in Massachusetts, it's hard to justify the expense when I'm only going to the studio once a week.  I always thought that if the time ever came for me to give up my space, it would be a sad, difficult transition--a regression, or even worse, the death of a dream.  So I'm shocked to find that it doesn't feel that way.  In the context of everything else, it feels like part of a new adventure.

I've been working on this drawing for the last little while.  Deciding to work in grayscale was originally a sort of compromise.  It's so fast (compared to painting) that I can complete the kind of large, textured, detailed images that I crave in a reasonably short amount of time.  Motherhood is making me practical.  And while pragmatism is not the most romantic source of inspiration, I find I've fallen in love (again) with good ol' graphite.  Really, I think it's just dreamy.

I thought I knew.

After nearly six months, I thought I knew all there was to know about baby poop.  My education on the subject began early on, when a particular projectile poop incident precipitated Robert's graduation from incubator to open air crib.  That day our nurse was the one (and only one) who had a vaguely bad attitude, and who, when she witnessed our little redecorating scheme declared, "Well I'm not cleaning that up.  Let's move him to a crib and see if he can maintain his body temperature."  Poop lesson one: it's OK to make on-the-fly, seemingly willy-nilly, trial-and-error decisions when it comes to infant medical care.

Well, last Wednesday we had a multi-sensory poop experience unlike anything I've seen before.  While I immediately got out my phone, took a picture of the wreckage, and sent it to my husband at work, I'll spare you the gory details.  But like so many aspects of baby care and motherhood, it just goes to show, the second you feel like you've "mastered" the twists and turns of this crazy carnival ride, BAM!  Everything changes.  And we haven't even started solids yet.

Alien Pods and Penguins

Some more elements sketched in.....

Ruins

Getting a little bit further on this piece.  I would have used my studio day a little better if I hadn't had to make an emergency run to Target for some breast pump parts that I'd left at home.  It's very difficult to paint while engorged.

The Start of Something New

Today was my first day back to the studio (in 4.5 months!) without le bébé.  My mom is going to take care of Robert every Tuesday so that I can sneak in some studio time.  I've had a big undersea piece in my head for a while.  It will be interesting to see how the image unfolds, since there will be big, week-long chunks of time between each working session.  One thing's for sure: I have never had a more focused work day in my life.  

When I first walked into the studio and saw a little rattle lying in the otherwise empty Pack 'N Play, I confess, I got a little choked up.  I haven't been away from Robert very much since we brought him home from the hospital.  But I recovered quickly, and after about a nanosecond of basking in my glorious aloneness I was all, "Baby?  What baby?"  

I tried bringing R.J. to the studio with me a few weeks ago.  Including our time in transit, it ended up taking me 4 hours to stretch one piece of watercolor paper.  

My most astonishing feat on that particular day was getting R.J. to nap in the studio:

The nap only lasted 20 minutes, and I spent its entirety trying to quietly cut a piece of watercolor paper from a giant roll.  I've never noticed how loud paper can be......And once I'd managed to cut my piece without waking him up, I realized that I was stuck and would have to wait for him to wake up anyway before I could start rocking the staple gun.

I've been taking these great new mom and baby classes at Isis Parenting.  A few weeks ago one of the other ladies in class said, "I just want to take a shower without someone sitting and crying in a vibrating chair outside the door."  Even though my literal shower this morning did, in fact, include someone sitting and crying in a vibrating chair outside the door, my metaphorical shower was very peaceful and productive;)