I’m bummed so far less than a handful of people are taking a chance on my free art. Alas, perhaps this is the life of a struggling artist. I suspect it’s more of the case: cannabis – they’re just not into you. Please be patient. Next on the docket: Art Chokes.
Maybe because I live in the West Coast bubble, I forget cannabis isn’t widely accepted. Not gonna decorate your house with it. Using cannabis wisely is part of our lifestyle. Not everyone’s, for sure. If I want to give away cannabis art, I suspect I’ll have to cast a wider net.
What’s the alternative to giving it away? I’m a beginning crafter, so I have no illusions about making any money. But I’ve discovered making art (or something like it) relaxes me. My sweet Dale set up a CD player and speakers for me out in the garage, where I’ve been working. I hung a pretty wind chime that’s too loud for the yard.
Writing is as good a hobby as any, but I can’t write and listen to music. Working on craft projects and amping up the tunes is bliss. Long-term plan is to keep pursuing all creative endeavors. Add that to cooking, walking and golf – and my retirement dance card is filling up quickly.
I have a few tiles completed. I’m getting better at the image transfer process and have been scoping out thrift shops for other potential substrates. So far, I bought an old wooden cutting board and a metal tray. Prices vary considerably among the stores – I thought Goodwill was the most expensive of the bunch.
Looks like I’m not going to stop, so what do I do with all this stuff? I know there are artists and crafters out there who create all the time. Any ideas?
As to the value of all this, I’ve always been a wound-up person. Dale said yesterday he has seen a huge change in me since I retired. I’m way more relaxed about everything. It’s true, and I sometimes wonder if my former colleagues would read about my life and feel sorry for me. Oh, Donna, not the power player. Writing that bloggy thing! Doing crafts! Smoking pot!
Yes, happily. I’m proud to have worked hard for a living, and I am exceedingly grateful to have made enough and saved enough money to quit. Once you have enough to get by without a job, time becomes more important than money or stuff.
I still have a long way to go. My temper flares over stupid things. Dale said, well, yeah, but consider how long you worked in that pressure cooker. You’ve only been retired a year and a half, and look how far you’ve come. Give it time.
Is he the Yin to my Yang, or is it the other way around?