Today On My Easel ...

Back around early November I fell into a weird creative slump. I think the pressures of the Holidays got to me … trying to be festive and upbeat in the midst of tight purse strings and all the hectic running around associated with gift buying and parties and crap.

Anyway, I kept up on my one blog site but my other one just came to a grinding halt. I had tons of ideas but the words just wouldn’t come. I tried all my old methods for working through “writers’ block,” but nothing helped. And my painting … which I dearly love … just brought me almost to tears every time I started shopping for canvas or got my supplies out. The passion was missing.

Well, my two month+ slump is over. And I have a special person to thank and the color orange.

I met someone … a fun and caring individual … who got me thinking about all the things that just make life silly and memorable. And that’s what I write about, after all. I think I just needed a good reminder that it’s okay to look at the world a little differently than others do; it’s even better to embrace that unique viewpoint and share it with others. Suddenly, I had scads of blogging ideas. The dam had burst!!

So I decided I wanted to surprise my new friend with a painting. But I was nervous. Closer to Christmas, I had actually got my easel and work area all set up and attempted three different pieces. Each one was worse than the one before. “Had I lost ‘the spark?’ for good,” I wondered.

While I was building up my courage to try again, I decided to procrastinate and inventory my paint and brushes to see what I needed. See, my new friend loves blues and purples and I wasn’t sure if a big trip to the art supply store was going to be required. And there on the top of my paint bin … almost glowing with a heavenly aura … was a huge tube of Cadmium Orange. I seldom use orange … it’s never inspired me before. But before I really even knew what I was doing, I had unwrapped a canvas and was half way through creating a new piece. And I loved it!

Ever since that “work in orange,” I’ve started five more paintings and even dusted off the notes for a novel (my second attempt) that I always wanted to complete. I even bit the bullet and got a haircut … my first one in nearly eight months. It’s going to be a creative year!

POINT OF RANT: Inspiration comes from the strangest places!!

Today In The Bathtub ...

Each year it gets harder and harder to come up with a clever or original costume idea for Halloween. Luckily, in a way, my burden for originality has been lessened over the past nearly three years because my current employer does not embrace Hallow's Eve "tomfoolery" ... we're fortunate that we were able to sway the human resources people to let us have a potluck luncheon. And not surprisingly, a number of dishes are themed around the strange and haunted ... last year, one guy brought in a huge peach jello mold in the shape of a brain accented with chunks of celery and shredded carrot. It was disgustingly neat!

But then there's my buddy, Trevor. He has a big Halloween blow-out every year and if you don't make every effort to attend in full regalia, he will make your life a living hell the next 364 days until your shot at costume redemption.

I've done all the traditional get-ups ... pirate, alien, cowboy, and warlock. When I was a kid, my Mom made this really elaborate clown costume for my oldest brother. She made it really big out of these loud fabric remnants and cleverly incorporated a series of ties so that it could be adjusted to almost any sized person. All four of us kids, an uncle, and even a few family friends wore that costume at one time or another. It had its own special garment bag large enough to hold the foam rubber feet, red wig, nose, hat, and assorted "accents" that we collected over the years. I wore it years ago to Trevor's first bash and everyone loved it. In actuality, wearing it for the party made me miss my Mom and I didn't have a very good time. Anyway, the real surprise was that after being in storage for years, the costume was in great shape. I think the thing is indestructible. It has now been passed down to my nieces and nephews.

Just a few years ago, I attended Trevor's soiree as "Waldo" of the "Where's Waldo?" franchise ... a pretty simple and comfortable ensemble. And NO make-up needed! Everyone wanted to know if I was hot in the hat and scarf. Not really well received. Another year, I went as Pete Rose ... full baseball gear and betting slips to hand out ... Trevor looked at me and just rolled his eyes.

The year after that I was Steve Irwin ... khaki "safari" clothes, a goofy longish blond wig, and a stuffed "stingray" carefully stitched to my clothes so it sort of wound around me. It had only been about two months since the zoologist's untimely death ... comments like "too soon!" seemed to follow me at the party and Trevor didn't talk to me for two weeks after that shindig.

October 2007 was the year I sat down, dug deep into my creative soul, and decided to go "conceptual artist" with my first of many esoteric outfits. When Trevor opened his door that year, I greeted him in black jeans, a black turtle neck, and black Chucks. I had went to a craft store and found two bags of stuffed chickens ... 36 in all ... and I basted them to my ebon garments in a way where they could be simply removed by snipping off a few threads. Then I used balsa wood and a plastic head-hugging headband I "borrowed" from my niece to fashion a large letter "U" that I could paint red and dark gray. The swoopy letter sat atop my head like antlers on a mid-century modern stag. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" my buddy asked, a drink in his hand and the beginnings of a look of shame on his face. "A chick magnet," I responded with pride. That particular Halloween, I was anything but!!

The next year I bought some inexpensive board shorts and the ugliest Hawaiian shirt ever manufactured. To this I adhered keys I had pulled from an old computer keyboard. I used Gorilla Glue because that shirt was going in the trash as soon as I got home from the party. At a party outlet store I bought a pack of plastic leis (for around my neck) and one bag of fiberglass "cobwebs" (which I spread all over my body). I put bright blue sunblock on my nose and borrowed the boogie board that my nephew purchased on his family's last trip to Hilton Head. Snazzy flip-flops completed the look. When anyone asked what I was supposed to be, I replied with a trace of irritation "I'm a Web Surfer." One girl who had definitely been imbibing for a good amount of time asked if I had considered giving rehab a shot. I drank heavily in response.

So last year, I thought and thought but nothing coalesced in my brain. I gave up and went on a hunting expedition to the fabric store and bought several yards of discounted pink fur. I had my sister help me build a kind of wide serape or "pocket" that covered me from neck to knees. Tapping into my feminine side, I purchased the largest pink tights I could find and forced them over my legs ... they fit terribly but I just needed the look from the knees down. The night before Trevor's party, I got out the hot glue gun and attached a huge assortment of toy food items I found with the toy kitchens at a department store. Pork chops ... loaves of bread ... little skillets with fried eggs ... bacon strips ... a chicken leg ... a carton of ice cream ... a can labeled "PEAS." The costume got heavier the more things I added ... a miniature ketchup bottle ... some chocolate chip cookies ... a tiny birthday cake ... so I finally had to stop. I must have looked like an idiot shrugging into the furry thing out on the street beside Trevor's apartment building. A stranger answered the door when I knocked and just looked at me with a bit of a challenge. I gave "heys" and "hellos" to a few people I knew but said nothing more. And no one questioned me. Finally I couldn't take the pressure anymore. "I'm an upset stomach," I bellowed. "Get it! GET IT!!" Of course, they didn't.

So Trevor's 2010 bash was last night. I had a good time and everyone liked my costume. It was comfortable and easy to assemble. Unfortunately, the "easy to rinse out" hair dye was proving to be problematic. I have now washed my hair four times and it's still pitch black and a combination of oily- and scary-looking. Luckily it's Sunday, but my littlest nephew wants his wiffleball bat ... my "club" ... back today so he can play with his friends. But I think it's safe to say that "Fred Flintstone" was a hit at the party!!

POINT OF RANT: Yabba ... Dabba ... Never Again!

Today On The Drawing Board ...

Every once in a while I get an idea that sticks in my head. It's times like this that I wish "Jimmy Neutron - Boy Genius" wasn't a cartoon character but a flesh-and-blood young inventor ... and that he lived just up the street!

I'm calling my idea "honeycomb glass technology" or HGT. I hate glare on my car's windshield and I have a hell of a time keeping track of good sunglasses once I find a pair. I also once drove a rental car with tinted windows, but the view had a weird bluish "aura" and things looked slightly unreal. I felt like I was driving in a video game instead of on real roads and highways.

HGT would revolutionize the automotive glass industry by creating a glass polymer made up of tiny ... just shy of microscopic ... interlocking hexagonal cells. Each enclosed cell would contain a clear chemical compound ... to be determined later ... that would become a soft, cloudy brown or green when subjected to an electrical current. The basic operating premise would be the more current applied, the darker the tinting. Basically, an adjustable tinted window!

Now I realize this is a bigger, more complex "invention" than my usual clever notions. I'd need the help of practical physicists, applied chemists, electrical and mechanical engineers, and polymer scientists just to name a few. Plus I'd need a mega-lawyer to help me navigate the miasma of federal agency approvals I'd need, as well as broker deals with the big automotive manufacturers.

Up front, I know my "team" would have several things to flush out. Like how to limit the process so a careless user couldn't completely opaque a windshield while the car was moving. And some type of "surge protection" so a jolt of electricity or an engine malfunction couldn't cause the same mishap. There would also need to be some type of light meter integration so that the system would not operate at night or under cloudy and inclement weather conditions. I'm also sure power would be an issue ... especially since I don't know if HGT would operate from occasional small electrical adjustments or require continual electrical stimulation to maintain the "tinting."

But THINK of the possibilities! If HGT works for windshields, why not kitchen windows? Or whole skyscrapers? And wouldn't HGT make for some killer shades and ski goggles? Even kitchen canisters that could display food one minute and then opaque to protect the foodstuffs from damaging UV light.

POINT OF RANT: Does anyone know a friendly venture capitalist? Anyone?!

Today In The Losers' Circle ...

I ran out at lunch today to buy napkins and plastic utensils for a birthday party at work later in the day ... Slyvia, who has spoken to me maybe three times in seven years, is turning 50. Anyway, I was heading down an aisle with my shopping basket when my peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something so shocking ... so horrible ... that I continued on about 15 feet before my brain processed the information and stopped me cold.

Then, like a panther, I reversed course and slinked back a few feet to confirm what I "thought" I saw. Son of a bitch ... there it was ... vanilla syrup! AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I invented vanilla syrup about 10 years ago ... in my head. I was eating ice cream (big surprise)with a niece and a nephew and commented that I wish there was a vanilla version of "hot fudge" because I loved the warm and soothing taste of it. I had a bottle of real vanilla from Madagascar for baking, and several containers of powdered vanilla I found at an Amish market ... I go through that stuff like some people go through the cocaine it resembles. And I'd looked up recipes for simple vanilla syrup used in cocktails, but I wanted a thick, gooey rich vanilla syrup ... as long as it didn't look like spoiled milk or something "reproductive."

Vanilla, from the Spanish word vainilla which means "little pod," comes from a variety of orchids and it is incredible expensive and painstaking to cultivate the pods. Mexico is a great source of vanilla, but places like Madagascar, Reunion, and parts of Indonesia, the South Pacific, and South America ... thanks to the conquistador Hernan Cortes bringing the wonders of vanilla (and chocolate) to Europe from his Central American exploits ... also grow fantastic varieties.

"Why don't you invent it yourself," my niece had said with both simple innocence and strawberry ice cream all over her chin and shirt. I thought about that idea every few months, but never gave it any serious thought. Now I was beaten to the punch. Or was I?!

This stuff on the store shelf before me was called Torani Vanilla Syrup and it came in a pretty big bottle. I picked up one and was delighted to see that it sloshed and rippled in relative thinness ... it could never be the ice cream companion of my dreams. Then I also saw that it was beside margarita mixes and other "bartendery" things ... more for drinks and lattes than desserts. And it was pretty damn expensive ... not an attractive feature for thrifty Moms.

I still had a shot, but how do you shop for a test kitchen or a food technologist?

POINT OF RANT: Never discount an idea ... or an ice cream topping?