The Jangles

Last week my doctor prescribed a high dose of steroids (prednisone) for an ongoing intestinal issue. After a day or so my energy level increased so much that I wasn’t able to take my usual afternoon nap. I have a hanging rope chair on the porch just off my bedroom. It automatically puts me in a cradle position so my body is surrounded by the softness of pillows. My legs stretch out full length. The chair swivels around so I can enjoy the soothing fountain sounds, the azaleas  (they seem a more brilliant pink this year), and the sun on my legs.

Never mind the pool boy

Starting with day two of the ‘roids I found that the chair had lost its magic. The pool fountain with it’s gurgling and splash just made me have to pee. The book that I couldn’t put down a couple of days ago became an annoying collection of words. Instead of reading I found myself seeing the pattern of empty space between sentences and paragraphs. The author’s information on the jacket led me down a rabbit hole. She had attended the Iowa Writers Workshop and so had my nephew. Maybe he knew her. Maybe he had read her stuff. Then… I wonder what my nephew is doing right now. I hope he’s finishing up the novel he’s been working on for YEARS. I’ll bet his wife is making a yummy Asian inspired meal. Or one of her out-of-this-world Bloody Marys, stacked high with practically a whole charcuterie-board-worth of cheese, veggies and meats.

I definitely have a case of The Jangles. I can almost hear my palpitating heart push on my chest. My brain feels like it is occupied by little balls of tinfoil playing dodgeball. With shaky hands it seemed like a good time to attempt some loose watercolor painting. Next week I am teaching a class in watercolor blobs that turn into fantasy flowers with the touch of a pen. It’s really hard for me to do loose. I am just a bit of a control freak. I like my edges defined. Sometimes I use my non-dominant left hand for drawing and painting to get a looser effect.

I created my own galaxy on my palette paper using the left-over paint, adding salt, adding alcohol ink, spritzing water, blowing paint puddles with a straw.  I painted magnolia leaves because my friend Cynthia (who’s a legit artist) showed me hers and they are so cute. I mentioned to Liz, my teaching partner (actually my boss) that we could do a class on painting magnolia leaves. She was less than enthusiastic. I tried to drop some loose blobs of watercolor to make a class demonstration. Even in my jangled state I could not make a loose blob. Here’s the inspiration piece from the artist (all props to Beth Nadler on Instagram – which is my classroom), and my attempt.

To try to turn my electric energy leveI into something productive I went on a field trip to Sam Flax art store. What the hell was I thinking! Even on a normal day entering Sam Flax raises my blood pressure by 50 points and my eyes start to twitch. My fingers shiver. I forget what aisle has the gesso, the mop brush. On steroids today, even though all I went to get was an outrageously expensive tube of Quinacridone Magenta watercolor, I cruised the aisles grabbing “must haves” like a….well…..like an old woman on steroids. My haul included a sticker book of ephemera, an on-sale Gustav Klint picture book, Quinacridone Magenta in acrylic paint form, a gingko leaf stencil, an old newsprint paper bag and some unique papers to use for collage.

I came home and headed for my “art nest” and pulled out my gel plate to make collage fodder. That’s right. Fodder. I learned that on the internet. It’s using messy paint and ink to create my own papers to use for assembling collages. First, I used up some old fodder and put together a small collage in one of my journals. Try gluing little bits of paper with fingers that are in 100 mph mode. It took 15 minutes with a Scrub Mommy to get the paint off my hands.

After a couple of hours I had what I considered a nice assortment of fodder for future works.

Now, I thought, after all this activity, surely I would fall easily into a pre-dinner nap. Five minutes. I lasted five minutes in my so-called “sleeping chair” before I had to leap up and head for my laptop to give my fingers and brain something to do. Now it’s dark out and Himself is circling the chow wagon waiting for something like food to appear. Thank you, Sprouts, for doing the prep work.