Also, am baffled that it’s March already. But March brings Sleep No More, and therefore I welcome it wholeheartedly, even in my skepticism about the passing of time.

I have been petting my shiny, shiny ARCs. A few have scampered off to new homes already, and the fates of the remaining ones are being pondered. I have ideas but I need to see how practical they’ll be to execute.

I spent part of the weekend painting, because I haven’t painted anything in ages and I had new old sheet music to play with.

They’re a companion series to a trio of paintings I did last year called music for the apocalypse. This bunch is music for the apocalypse part II: nocturnes. They should be up on Etsy by the end of the week.

Other than that I’m all reading, writing & waiting for the snow to melt while I slowly work my way through my ever-growing to-do list.

There are photos of shiny objects forthcoming, too.

• Finished three (3!) paintings. One is off to its recipient already, another is waiting for payment & the third is available on Etsy.
• Got rid of my stupid summer head cold that I had hoped was allergies but was really just a head cold. I don’t get sick that often and that’s twice this year already, bah.
• Went through two old notebooks that contained two years worth of novel notes, and pulled out several pages worth of possibly useful stuff.
• Transcribed the possibly useful stuff into a new notebook.
• Made strawberry frozen yogurt.
• Sort of figured out the structure of the new draft. I think. Maybe. I have to see what it looks like when not scrawled on a spare piece of paper in magenta Sharpie.

So, not the huge dent in revisions that I’d wanted, but still productive. Am revising-o-rama this week, and I feel better about it having gotten the paintings out of the way.

Also, this weekend I bought a gigantic (2′x3′) dry erase board. I am a nerd, but I am a happy nerd. Hopefully it will help with structuring and time line and such. The kittens were disappointed that it did not come in a box. But it does have four different pens! And it’s magnetic! Oooh, I should get magnetic poetry for it.

Um, anyway.  It’s hot & humid out and the Kitten Flop Barometer is at Heavy Flop. Tessa is heavily flopped over the printer at the moment.

Back to notes and time lines and coffee for me.

I started it in October of 2006. I think I’d intended for it to take 2 years and it ended up being just over 3. The kings took the longest, probably because they were last and I wanted to make sure I got them right. I think I did.

The whole deck is now up in the galleries on phantomwise.com. It looks like a journey, which is probably exactly what it should look like.

Other than tarot finishing everything around here is holiday preparation and revision notes and hungry kittens. I have Beautiful Creatures waiting to be read and I should probably bake cookies at some point. The end of 2009 is shaping up to be quiet and dark and cold, in a cozy sort of way.

It’s messy.

But when I was working on the bastet postcard (already sold!) yesterday, I realized my art process is just as messy, particularly toward the end stages.

This is a picture of my workbench, taken right after I finished:

There are several things in this photo that I didn’t even end up using (the gold metallic worked better than the copper, for example) and yes that’s my hand covered in Mod Podge. There was an incident. I promise my camera hand was clean. Comparatively.

So I thought, looking at this mess, why should I expect my writing process to be different? Just because it’s words and not paint doesn’t mean the process is all that different, I make writing/painting analogies all the time. Of course my writing process is going to involve weird notes and seemingly disorganized bits and pieces. Clearly, I am the type of artist that needs to put paint I’m not going to use on the table and get my hands dirty.

I used to have this complex about working messy with my art. I thought all the paint should actually end up on the painting and not on the table, on me, occasionally on the cats. I got over that somewhere around the time I started splattering things. It’s difficult to splatter things and keep paint properly contained. But I liked the finished product, I liked the way it looked and it’s become something of a signature technique now.

Time to apply the same train of thought to writing, methinks. At least writing messily doesn’t involve as much cleanup.

(Sulphur Blue Smeck, 2005, Michelle Stitzlein, mixed junk, 62 x 84 x 11 inches)

This butterfly is even more impressive in person. The stripes on the bottom of the wings are piano keys and the circles at the top are pots. It was impossible to pick a favorite, between the cardboard monkeys and the clam made of cigarette butts and the bunny with cigarette filter fur (bunny was even more adorable in person) and the glowing centipede comprised of bundt cake pans and bicycle brakes.

I love art made from repurposed stuff, and something about repurposing junk into animals is entirely enchanting. I can’t precisely put my finger on why, but the whole exhibit made me very happy. Finding new and exciting things, especially on my birthday, is a happy-making sort of thing.

After museuming we went out to dinner and managed to not get rained on, though it is the second coldest birthday that I can remember having.

We are still munching on funfetti cupcakes and I have a beautiful new necklace, my very first piece from Parrish Relics after years of coveting. Will be posting the first flax-golden tale tomorrow morning, and so far being thirty-one is very nice, indeed.

I am working on the aforementioned unexpected YA novel idea and it’s going pretty well. I think I want to do a relatively fast first draft over the next couple of months and see where it wants to go.

Query-wise I am playing the waiting game, and I seem to be getting better at it. Or better at distracting myself by baking cookies and drinking lots of wine.

I can’t believe it’s almost July.

That’s about it. Apropos of nothing, here is a photo I took on Saturday as we were driving off into the sunset.

I am henna-ing my hair today, which kind of impedes doing much else since my hair is wrapped in plastic wrap and towels and I can’t wear my glasses. And I think I mixed it a bit too watery, the henna is a bit on the drippy side so I have to keep an eye on it.

Photopaintings are sitting on the workbench while I figure out how best to detail them, there’s a kind of inlay on each one and I’m not sure what the best way to fill it in is. I can try different things, though, and see what works. But not today, since leaning over the table with my hair in its current state is not the best of ideas.

I was expecting to have a lazy, tea-filled afternoon but I unexpectedly had an idea for a new novel and I want to play in it for awhile and see if it has enough potential to work on seriously. I’m taking some notes and seeing where it wants to go, it might end up being this November’s NaNoWriMo novel, which gives me plenty of time to let it sit and simmer.

Speaking of writing, I am thinking of adopting a pen name. I like this idea a lot, for a multitude of reasons including that my current name is only a typo away from a pop singer, but I’m not sure how to best transition over to it. We’ll see, I guess. Am still pondering.

Spent most of the morning working on this set of panoramic photo-based paintings. Got all the photos mounted on their respective boards and I’m leaving them to dry overnight before I start adding more layers. They’re likely going to have a lot of layers when they’re finished. But I am on schedule to finish them this week, so that’s happy. Here’s a peek at what my table looks like, with all the seasons piled on it:

And my brain did that weird thing it does sometimes when painting (or rather, pasting prints of photos) unlocks the writing bit of my brain and I figured out how to fix one of the scenes in the novel that I’d been working on, so I wrote about 600 words that can be edited and added, and I’m absurdly pleased about that.

I also took a shower, drank a lot of tea, exercised and read another 50 pages of Then We Came to the End, which I started and abandoned sometime last year and picked up again yesterday. Nearly halfway through and liking it better this time around.

I’ve set myself up for a busy week but I think it will be an enjoyable one.

For spring, which has sprung, a random list of artsy things I would like to do/try/attempt someday, when time and space and money and such fickle things align properly:

• Re-finish and creatively paint furniture, in muted technicolor funky-but-classy patterns. You know, when I have the room to strip and store furniture.
• Art dolls, quirky creepy pseudo-Victorian porcelain nightmares in lace. This will likely require improving my sewing skills.
• Documentary film. I don’t know what subject, maybe something will come to me eventually. But I like documentaries, and have an odd desire to make one myself.
• Encaustic painting. Painting with hot wax! C’mon, that’s awesome. Expensive and messy, but awesome.
• Some sort of collaborative photo-based project to be star odyssey 2.0. No idea how to fix what went wrong with 1.0 yet, though, so will require pondering.
• Zen garden, with koi pond and fountain and meditating Buddha statues. Need a yard first.
• Another tarot deck, perhaps in a minimalist pencil sketch sort of style.

And I have a long-harbored desire to make an installation sculpture consisting of a skull stuffed with teabags and a top hat, entitled Requiem for the Mad Hatter.

And I made a sheep.

He’s a bit over an inch tall and about 2 inches from head to fluffy tail. He is more or less the same somewhat shifty-eyed sheep from Secret Agent Sheep, except with stubbier legs so he would stand up better. He’s made of polymer clay that was detailed in acrylic and glazed. I haven’t made anything with polymer clay in years so I’m pretty impressed with myself.

I kind of love him. But I might put him up for sale on Etsy. I need to see how durable he is when he’s completely dry.

Also yesterday I read Laurie Halse Anderson‘s new book, Wintergirls, in its entirety. Because I picked it up to read the first page and could not put it down. It’s heavy and somewhat draining but absolutely beautifully written. I really kind of wish I’d been able to read her books as a teenager.

Today I am chipping away at my list of book edits and compiling files of literary agent information. It is probably more fun than it sounds, because I have tea and a small clay sheep looking at me sideways.