Good morning, fellow artists, writers, craftsman, etc., and the occasional laymen. I am Curly. Of course that is not my real name, which will become apparent later in this post. I call myself by many creative titles because there is a lack of a title to apply to a woman like me, who wants to dabble in just about every creative outlet there is.
Every week, I will be making posts here about the current project on which I am working. Occasionally, you will hear about my life at home, or my attempts at becoming a creatives-dependent self-employed woman. While I am at college learning to be an English and Science middle school teacher. I digress, however, because I really wanted to let you get a sense for who I am with this one.
I am a happily married woman with a shared girlfriend between my husband and I. Though the relationship is still on a rocky start, we are determined to make it work because both I and Billie love my husband, Samuel, with all our hearts. It is for that reason that I respect her and put up with some of the (slightly) insane things that followed her into our home.
Billie and I each have a daughter of our own, her from a relationship that ended poorly (for him) and me from my husband. My daughter, Rue, is two and some months old and is slow to learn her speech. She rarely speaks actual words, and prefers to babble or shriek. Needless to say, potty training is not going well. Her daughter, Venus, will be five soon, and as a matter of fact shares my daddy's birthday.
Venus is a brilliant child, but needs discipline. She is at that age, after all. However, there is an issue between Billie's family and her that is causing everyone a deal of stress.
I began doing homemade crafts when I was about four years old. I was drawing long before that (mostly the scribbles of a normal small child). I didn't consider a serious study of art until I moved from the East Coast to the Midwest. With no large cities around for entertainment, and nowhere that seemed to be really safe to play outside, I took to drawing. It soon became an obsession, and I still claim to this day that God let me see my talents in his own house. I realized at the age of thirteen, while sketching during a church service, that I loved to draw. I didn't consider formal training until I was seventeen. As a graduating senior I entered a class and competition and won first place.
Convinced I could make it, I entered college studying studio arts. Two years later, and I moved back to the East Coast to attend art school. It became far too expensive and the economy's nosedive made it impossible to continue. I moved back and decided that I would rather study on my own now that I had several techniques under my belt. Occasionally I will take another studio class, but I prefer the old adage of practice, practice, and practice (til your wrist aches from repeating the same circle too much).
Now I go to school full time. I was also employed full time in retail until they fired me over minor details that caused no financial harm to anyone but the fact they fired me. (They have long admitted I was the best employee they'd had in said department in eleven years.) I might return part time, but now that I've held the freedom of working for myself a few months, I think I'd like to keep it that way.
For now, my soon-to-be readers, toodles.
