Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 July 2018

Ode to Today

I am exhausted, I am stressed
My mind is spinning, the house is a mess.
Cleaning is not happening, a guess?
No motivation is currently possessed


I must nurse our canine
Corral the kids, protect the felines
“Don’t hold her like that” is a common line
Ask me how I fare? “Oh, fine”


Chemo to take, and caffeine to think
Want to just slip in bed and sink
Hide in the covers, gone in a blink
Forget, disappear, let my mind sync


Clothes to fold and put them away
Stand looking at the room with only dismay
Appointments, calls, food needs made
Close my eyes and heart to today


I cannot feel outside of the void
Different methods with, I have toyed
The result the same, still annoyed
Throw on a smile, a worthy decoy


Do what I must and continue
Trudge, walk, crawl, roll through
Tomorrow may be different, true
But the darkness still floods deeper in hue

Monday, 9 July 2018

Moments of Thanks and Inspiration

I'm in a bad spot right now.  To help avoid a "downer" blog - which seem to be too often lately - I'm taking a moment to try to think of a lot things I'm grateful for:

  • I have my soul mate as my spouse. Mike and I honestly say the same thing at the same time quite often. We can finish sentences, we want to cuddle at the same time, we can be apart or do different activities and not feel left by the other.  I can never be grateful enough for him.
  • My talents. I love that I can do a lot of things on my own. I do wish that I could do them more often but that's leading into some of the dark stuff, so let's avoid that part. I love that I can draw to express myself, I love to write, to do woodworking, metalworking, I can build things with my hands with many mediums, and love to sing.
  • I have some pretty amazing friends. Friends that will do whatever they can for me, that go out of their way to see me smile, from watching the kids to sending surprises that mean a lot to me in the mail.
  • My kids are sometimes exasperating but they are also a source of happiness. I get hugs, kisses, and "I love you"s often.
  • I'm able to still do some things, even if I cannot do everything any longer.  I can still feel slightly useful as I am not bedridden.
  • My cats and dog love me and give me cuddles. 
  • I have a chemo regimen that appears to be working.
  • I apparently inspire people to do good.  This one I want to talk more about for a second:
I have had a lot of people tell me ways they were inspired by my actions.  It has been from being their new selves after surgeries or other issues that made them have scars or marks that make them appear different than the average person to stepping up and helping another person.  One person stopped worrying about wearing a prosthetic breast because she saw me freely walking around with one breast (and the remaining breast made it extremely obvious I only had one).  In relation to that IDGAF attitude, others have stopped trying to hide scars or missing hair, etc, and told me it was because I gave them the inspiration to just care about how they saw themselves instead of how others might react.  Some have told me they cannot believe the amount of things I help come to fruition.  I helped save a retreat, I helped make welcome bags more full than they would have been, I organize events with little effort.  To me, it is little effort.  I can plan these things easily.  I know enough about Excel and Word that I can make things very simple.  I have an ancient version of Adobe Photoshop and I can work that thing to my needs extremely easily.  If I am going to be an inspiration, I want you to take away one thing from me.  This is why I do what I do.  This is what makes me want to do things for others, whether they know it is me or not:

If something needs to be done, do what you can.

Change does not happen by shrugging your shoulders.  Help does not come from twiddling thumbs.  You cannot help if you are too worried what others will think of you.  Follow your heart, it is speaking to you, it twinges when you know that you can do something to right a situation.  Be selfless sometimes, think of how happy you can make someone with something as simple as a small, inexpensive gift or by doing a selfless act.  Share your friends' fundraising efforts, share their attempts to go outside their safe zone, share their events, share their triumphs, help where you can.  Can you imagine a world where everyone tried to help when they knew they could?

Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Art for Sale!

New website for selling my artwork.  Two colouring books are currently available!

CLICK HERE

Tuesday, 29 March 2016

Painting a Clear Picture - Retreats and Conferences

As more young adults get diagnosed with cancer and find Young Adult Cancer Canada, they become introduced to the chance to attend one of YACC's events to connect: retreats and conferences.  This leads to them asking (almost every time), "What are they like?"  It's a simple question with a very hard to explain answer.  So I'm going to try an analogy, bear with me.

You're a painter, you've finally decided on your masterpiece, your life's work.  You start setting everything up, doing your best to get things in order, and start painting.  As you paint your brush suddenly falls from your hand.  In disbelief, you look at your hand, it's not working right.  The brush is on the floor, paint splatter on the ground.  You look at the painting, there's now a line of paint down the middle of it, painfully obvious that it is out of place.  No matter how you look at things, your hand isn't gripping the paint brush, and you're feeling stuck, with your beautiful vision left unfinished.

You see doctors, tell your family and friends, and try to start some treatments.  You get lots of "advice" from non professionals.  Some tell you to just pick up the brush and paint, you'll get through it, eventually.  Some are convinced that if you don't listen to the doctors and just rub mint on it, you'll cure yourself.  A few do their best to be there for you, but they just cannot relate on any level.  You keep going back to your painting, picking up the brush as best you can, and try to paint like you used to.

Retreats

One day you walk into your studio and there is a small group of people there.  You look around nervously but take note of one thing: they all have a painting with a line of paint splattered in odd areas.  One by one you all sit in front of your paintings and a person comes into the room.  They guide you through discussions on your works.  Everyone talks about what they were going to paint before their brush fell.  They say how that line of paint has been haunting them ever since it showed up.  There's tears, their laughter, there's a lot of silence, but it's never awkward.  Eventually you realize that the line of paint doesn't have to be a blemish, it can be part of your painting.  You don't leave the session with all the answers, but you connected with others struggling like you.  They might not have the line of paint in the centre of their work, it might be blotches instead of a line, but you all had the brush fall.  You finally have people you can talk to that know what it feels like to look at the paint on the floor, seeing the brush roll away.

Conferences

Later on that year there's a gallery opening.  Everyone has their paintings on the walls.  Some are completed, some are barely started, some are almost finished.  All the painters are there, they're milling about, chatting, laughing, crying, some even in serious debates.  As you look around you see it's only painters.  Every artwork also has the paint that was out of place.  Some have worked it into the painting flawlessly, some expanded on it, some tried to just paint over it, others have left the odd paint alone.  Most of the paintings have their artist's names written clearly near them, some are labeled anonymous, and a few have big neon lights spelling out the names of the artists, inviting you to talk with them about their experience painting.  As the night rolls on, you join different people and discuss different topics at each group: how you watched the brush fall, different mediums you started trying when painting got difficult, methods doctors are trying to help you with your hands, different canvases and how they affect the paint, what you can do to help insure the paintings, and even what you want done when you finish painting.  Some talks are sad, some are extremely educational, and a few are just plain fun.  The night grows late, a host comes out to thank everyone for coming.  A few words are said for those who are not in attendance.  Several people could not make the journey due to family or health issues, some have felt they didn't need to attend gallery openings any longer, and some have passed on, leaving the most beautiful paintings that touch the hearts of everyone that view them.  The gallery opening closes with music, dancing, laughter, and tears from knowing you won't see each other in person for a long time.  As much as there might be sadness in that the gallery opening is closing, you still feel full of love and joy from getting to be with others that understand your plight.  You excitedly start planning your journey to the next gallery opening as you tote your painting back to your studio and try to pick up your paint brush.

Some of the painters you met had recovered fully, their hands were back to normal.  Other people, the affliction grew further, their arms, legs, or necks are now unable to fully function.  A couple people just started their journey with the issues of their hands.  Some have been living with the affliction for a long, long time.  But no matter what stage the others are at, you all support one another.  You now know you have those people to fall back on when you just want to throw the paints and brushes, scream, and cry.  They will be there when you get good news, they'll empathize when you get bad news, they'll be there whenever you need them.

That's what YACC retreats and conferences are like.  No matter what, they help you keep painting, because no matter where that splash of paint is, they help you see that it's still your masterpiece, and you are one hell of a painter.

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Thankful 2014

I'm thankful for naps.
I'm thankful for family, both by blood and by friendship.
I'm thankful for a husband that understands me. He knows I try my best and even though I'm not capable of the things I was when we first married, he loves me no matter what.
I'm thankful for my kids, they drive me nuts sometimes but they also bring a lot of joy.
I'm thankful for a day in age where we can communicate across cities, countries, oceans, with relative ease, and we can communicate with people we admire, remembering they are human, too.
I'm thankful for my artistic abilities.
I'm thankful that I had intelligent doctors that knew the best way to save me from my cancer.
I'm thankful that I have met people that understand both cancer and getting disabilities from an MVA.
I'm thankful for Lolcats, I Can Has Cheezburger has brought me so much joy!
I'm thankful for cats.
I'm thankful that YACC exists and helps me to this day.
I'm thankful for books, written on paper, taking me away whenever possible.
I'm thankful for a house with heat in the winter and cooling in the summer.
I'm thankful for people like R A Salvatore, Tarol Hunt, Lar and Sohmer, and many more filling the world with beautiful stories.

I'm thankful I am here to write this, and that you are here to read it.

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

The Art of Happiness

Why is it that I am at my most content when I am painting or creating something for someone?  I love to paint and draw, create images on the computer, etc, and I'm trying very hard to get time to do this once more.  Injuries do not always allow me the luxury of sitting in one area long enough to complete a work like I once could.  This is a slight deterrent for me.  But I am trying.  My son seems to love creating as much as I do, he insisted on "helping mommy paint" so I grabbed a blank canvas, gave him a paint brush, and my only assistance was pouring the paint out so he could get it on his brush.  At one point he even turned to me (he was sitting on my lap), and said, "Mommy, you lay down, I paint, now."  This was his way of telling me he was going to paint on his own, with no assistance.  I asked if I could still pour out the paint, and that, he said, was okay.  He's only 3 years old.  He was extremely proud of his painting once it was complete.  As was I.

But this brings me back to my point, because my son told me his painting was for mommy.  He did not create it and feel proud because he had accomplished something, he was proud because he made me a gift.  This is how I feel.  I know many artists berate others for "giving away" their art, and yes I like money, but I love the sense of giving something to others, especially if I created it.  Is it simply from our childhood when a macaroni painting would be accepted from our guardians as though it was a replica of the Mona Lisa?  Is it from when our finger paintings and rough drawings of the imaginings of our heads seemed to overwhelm them like seeing the Northern Lights in person?  I cannot say.

I would love to have enough money, time, and health to simply dive into all the artwork in my head and simply leave it on the intended person's doorstep, hiding in the bushes to see their reaction as they receive it.  That would be enough.  I guess that's why I have a hard time putting a price on my art.  Value of art is never set in a monetary state.  It's in smiles, giggles, and tears.


Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Who am I?

I ask "who am I?"

Am I the cancer that invaded my tissues or organs?  Am I the lost amongst the statistics?  Am I the forgotten in the sea of sponsoring corporations?  Am I the one that forfeited their claim to a healthy life?  Am I the astray because I have fallen?  Am I the dismembered or disfigured?  Am I the broken dreams?  Am I the shortened sight?  Am I the pain?  The torture?  The sorrow?  The loneliness?

I am the one that cries because of my strength.  I am the one that faced death and did not give in.  I am the confident because I must be.  I am the defier, I am the stubborn.  I am the unstoppable, even if death wins.  I am the courageous because I will not yield.  I am the caring because I have lost.  I am the victor because I am powerful.

I will be weak, I will be strong.  I will bend, but I will not break.  I will risk, for that is how reward is found.  I will be vulnerable, I will be benevolent.  I will stumble, but I will rise.

Who am I?  I am what and who I let myself be.  I am me.  And, I am unstoppable.

Friday, 16 March 2012

Animating

A friend introduced me to a free animating site.  I did some experimenting and came up with this.

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Great music - Chad Hatcher

This is a case of hidden treasure.  Classified started being recognized as a great musician a while back and the funny thing is at the same time one musician that had actually made a single with Classified has yet to become truly mainstream.  Chad Hatcher is a Haligonian (from Halifax, Nova Scotia) that is bursting with talent.  I'm quite surprised that he hasn't been noticed in the sea of music.  His work holds so much emotion and thought, Chad's work is a masterpiece, every song speaks volumes.

Amazingly enough, Chad has released a 7 track, FREE album.  Please go to this site CLICK HERE and give his music a go.  Like I said, it is free to download and enjoy.  Believe me, enjoy you will!

Friday, 2 December 2011

Style

I've been putting off working on my webcomic because of one real reason.  I had not found the particular style I want to use.  I know some may say to this "Just draw your own way", and to this I say, you're not an artist because you say that.  There is such a variety in formats to portray fictional characters and I have grown as an artist in learning various methods and formats.  There were a few things I made my mind on.  Things like, the style for my "were" creatures, that I was sure of, the mood of the comic, the events I wanted to have in certain areas.  But it is hard to get started when the proper way to express the characters is missing.

I have found myself looking at various webcomics, paper comics (yes, they still exist), cartoons, animes, and more trying to think of what I want and what I can convey.  Simple fact is as soon as I find it, or should I say, as soon as I found it, it would just click.  My belief in myself as an artist knows that once I found it I could do it.  It's not vanity, it's the knowledge that I have the skills to work and create the images in my head as soon as I have the format logically formulated.  And I'm glad to say, today, I became convinced that I found "the style".  Pics to follow >_>

Sunday, 25 September 2011

Call to art!

Yeah, getting more urges to draw and whatnot lately.  Really missed doing this to be honest.  So I'm working on a webcomic concept.  Had this idea for a while, just starting to breathe life into some of the character designs I had.  Here's some of the concept art I've made for them so far.


I'll work on the story line and more of the characters before I start getting the pages ready for the actual comic.  I might start showing it first on this blog or make another dedicated to it.  We'll see. :)

Monday, 5 September 2011

Art craving

Had an idea come to me and finally got to paint it yesterday.  I was going for a simplified image, nothing overly perfected as nothing in life is ever "picture perfect" lol  They're a series about the experience of breast cancer.  Your experience may vary =P

"The News"
"The Treatment"

"The New Me"
"The Hope"

Sunday, 21 August 2011

What Makes You Happy?

It seems like an easy question.  What makes you happy?  Hearing a child laugh wholeheartedly, finding that extra $20 in your jeans pocket when doing laundry, coming across those photos of you and your friends from "happier times".  And there's simple things, seeing a full arc rainbow in all its glory, a warm fire with a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy winter night, snuggling with your partner after making love and hearing them sigh with full love and admiration.

Happiness is something fleeting lately, I find.  Pure and total "I'm completely content and happy" moments are so few and far between it grates at the soul.  And it wasn't until I was talking with an old friend from ages ago last week that I did discover something.  I do know one thing that always makes me happy.  I had left it behind.  I would bring it to the light once in a blue moon and in those moments I would be happy.  My heart would purr like a newborn kitten drinking it's mother's milk.  But I had left it for so many tiny, tiny reasons.

My art was something I did everyday.  And not just everyday, but all day.  During school (and I did get honours on more than one occasion while doings so, thank you!), after school, in the evening, late nights, while watching TV, while talking on the phone...  I always had my books of papers, sketch books, sketch pads, binders, and whatnot on me, along with enough pens and pencils to fuel the fire.

Over time, you need a job, and you cannot always draw on the job.  Then you want to see friends, and conversations cannot always be carried while doodling with a pen and paper.  You get your own place, there's more cleaning and responsibilities.  Work.. need more work to make the bills.  Relationships.  Family.  Health.  Accidents.  Life...

But I let it happen.  I have no one to blame but myself.  And it took someone saying to me "Well, it always did make you happy, your art." to realize that in fact, it did.

I have so many pieces of art that are stored away, and not just on paper, in my computers and in my head.  I really wish I knew how to work flash or some simple animation tool.. I have so many ideas.  But I think I will do this for now: I will find one of my old comics that was mine and mine alone (some had friends' contributions and ideas, don't want to take from them), and I will reinvent it to be a webcomic.  Now, can I find them, and can I find the time, my old ability, and audience?  Time will tell.  But I know it will do one thing.  It will make me happy.


Friday, 19 August 2011

Poetry in Her Heart

I was once a woman, at least that's what I'm told
I was once a woman, in days not long ago
That was before the treatments, ones like bloody chemo
Mastectomy, radiation, but to hormones I say no
But the creature in the mirror, that every day I see
That is not a woman, the creature is not me
It has a breast missing, hair is oddly growing back
It may have survived the battle but its image has been cracked
I am not whole and I am lost, I cannot find the way
I want to be a woman but the creature is condemned to stay
My heart is broken, my looks are gone so far away
I cannot understand why I'm tortured to stay this way
My sentence is clear now that the disease is gone
I won the battle but the sun has not yet shone
Be a creature now, a woman you cannot be
You are resigned to torture, the end you will not see
                                             -Julie Michaud 2011



Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Signs of Hope

Some of you may not know this but I'm an artist.  And before I found out I had cancer I started a campaign to raise funds for Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation (www.cbcf.org).  Talk about irony lol.  I would like to introduce you to Signs of Hope, my series of prints for CBCF.
Barbary Lion

King Cheetah

Siberian Tiger

Snow Leopard
They're four endangered big cats with the pink ribbon in their stripes or spots.  They're copywritten, limited edition prints, with donations from the sales going to CBCF.  If you would like more information on these prints, you can comment here or check out the facebook page I started for them at www.facebook.com/signsofhope .  I'm thinking of trying to get some more artwork in the works for my other endeavours, the ones mentioned in Fire in my heart and soul and such.

Anywho, my must go chase down my son.. more blogging later!