my first art show

Finally, the invite for the art show went out today--I was starting to sweat it alittle bit. Now I can just sweat the actual event--all the questions of how will my stuff hold up, how will it be received, do I have enough pieces, are they good enough, will they fade into the greatness of everyone else's work, etc, etc. Gosh, why are we/I so freakin' hard on ourselves--why can't it be great enough just to be included?

"The Thin Veil"

A Celebration
of Life's Harvests, Spirits, and Saints

1 November 2009
3:00 to 7:00
3117 White Oak
Houston, Texas

A Gathering Of Photography, Painting,
Sculpture, and Assemblage By

Bert Long, Daniel Schnorr, Christy Karll Mcwhorter,
George Craig, Katherine Tucker, and Tom Kilty

xoxo!

romanticizing

(me in 40 yrs?) Bridge North, England, by me 2009

I was relaying a daydream to a girlfriend today & she said "the change in weather always makes me romanticize things." I must romanticize all the time...the daydream I was having was specific, but not unusual for me. I dream of a different life on many levels & while I'm sure we all do, I think I internalize it beyond the romance stage & expect that it should be as I dream it in my head. The trouble is that I think I berate myself a bit for not making it so.

The daydream today was this: I'm outfitted in my favorite pea coat with a bright knitted scarf & fun fingerless gloves. Walking around Bridge North or Bath England on a crisp morning, cameras in tote, I spend the morning snapping pics of interesting architecture, gardens, and quirky people along the way. I stop at an outdoor cafe to have some hot tea and a cigarette and take my laptop out to jot down a tale that I will later send out for publication. From there I return to my cute, light & airy flat to prepare some packages for shipping from my online art shop & then rustle up a spicey stew & mashed tatties while I wait for my cute & charming British boyfriend Nigel/Ian/Malcolm to come over for dinner. We sit on the couch, under a shared blanket, to watch trashy East Enders telly and talk about our days.

door in Bridge North, England, by me 2009
love the circular glass cutouts they had everywhere

It doesn't sound sooooo unrealistic, does it? Not so unachievable in the grand scheme of life. It's not like I've got myself living in some massive French chateu or spending the day doing something extravagant and deluxe or jetting here, there & yon. My daydreams are always so doable that I tend to get subconsiously mad at myself for not doing it. And then I wonder: am I dreaming my dream or romanticizing myself out of my life?!

xoxo!

notes from the universe

costa rica, by me

"The agent, the producer, the investors; consultants, lenders, stockholders; customers, clients, fans; friends, lovers, support systems...Katherine, they have nothing to do with dreams coming true.They're simply summoned after someone's "made up their mind" to the degree that it's followed by unending action. Same with accidents and coincidences. You see, Katherine, dreams actually come true (or not), long before they can be seen in time and space.

Yeah, 'mon,
The Universe"


I love my Notes from The Universe.
xoxo!

restlessness

ft collins, co, by me

I'm very restless inside my skin, in my bones, my brain. Thoughts fly in and inhabit my body, masking as inspiration and clever ideas while they needle and agitate me. I don't entirely know where I am, who I'm supposed to be, what I should be doing. I often hear someone else's wishes and wish they would be mine too. "Is that what I really want too," I wonder. "Is that someone I can be?" The dreams others are making real become what I see at night, masquereding as my own dreams while I sleep.

For as long as I can remember, I have felt lost, unsure, unknowing. Forever I have felt like a seeker, trying to determine where it is I belong & what it is I'm meant to be doing. Right now I feel like an animation I once saw although I can't remember where or when. It was of a figure pushing and straining beneath a rubber encasement, fighting to penetrate its way out. That is me right now--fidgety, uncomfortable and restless. I want out, I want to be free, but the rubber barrier is not giving way yet. It is as if with every push against my confinement, I am grasping for "the thing" that will set me free. "There she goes again," I imagine them saying, "trying her hand at yet one more thing (that she'll surely give up on)." But I am desperately trying to find my thing--that thing where I will I feel that I am where I'm truly meant to be, doing my soul's work, being the best me.

But I am tired of straining, pushing, grasping. I'm frustrated at myself & my life & my failed attempts of hide & seek. When is giving up, giving up & when is it surrendering to what is? They say surrender is the surest way to contentment. Perhaps I need to stop trying so damn hard to find myself, my calling, my thing. And just do life--so that the reaching & the trying no longer feel like struggling, but simply experiencing.

xoxo!

writing your story

still life, by me

I feel like I have a story to tell. But maybe it's not the erotic anthology I think it should be. Or even the Great American Novel that everyone assumes it would be. Maybe it's not even to be told in words. I don't know entirely...not yet anyway.

The chatter in my head seems to want me to hear something. The louder it gets, the harder it is to keep inside, to keep quiet. It is with me always, no matter what I try to do to escape it. Even when I am making art, I cannot detach enough to avoid the incessant noise. Not even when I try to drown it out with laborious sweat or nature's soft sounds. The only time it feels quiet, the only time I feel present, is when I'm writing. It's something I don't do nearly enough and therefore rarely find that quiet peace of being fully here & now.

Maybe, just maybe, through writing it down--the chatter, the noise, the conflict, the rage--I can begin to hear myself again. The words. The story. What needs to be told.

xoxo!

moving & grooving

metal gate, by me

I'm in the process of contemplating some major life changes. Namely moving back to my "hometown" although it hasn't felt completely like "home" anymore for many visits back now. I've been in Houston almost 8 years (alot longer than I ever thought I would) & as much as I've bitched about this city for the majority of those years, the thought of leaving makes me alittle sad for several reasons.

The reason for the move back to Austin really is solely based on an opportunity to buy a family house for a VERY good price, which just so happens to include a large workshop/studio space (and sentimentally one that my grandfather built many years before he died). In fact, he built it for my grandmother to house her doll-making supplies, and then later for her to hold her doll classes. In a sense, I feel that I will be honoring the original intent of the space by bringing my art and eventually my own classes into it.

When I think about that aspect...and only that aspect...my heart leaps & I feel happy & inspired & insync. I have been putting out the energy to have a larger workspace & then once I nailed down my desire to combine my art with my wants to teach and help people empower themselves, the long-available house called to me out of the blue one morning as being the perfect space to make it happen.

Where I'm finding the resistance is in the logistics: the what-if's and but-how's about relocating in this economy & to a town that is notorious for low pay (both of which are the reasons I originally had to leave). How can I commit to one of the biggest financial commitments, home ownership, even for a super great price on this house a) without knowing I'll have a solid income to support it, b) with few any-kind-of-jobs even available right now, and c) without anything already saved as a cushion? Then I ask "what am I going to do with that big house...all by myself...when I can barely keep up with the little house I rent now where I can call the landlord for emergency repairs?"

But probably biggest & most frustrating (and hardest to actually admit) is knowing that leaving this city will mean saying goodbye & letting forever go of the (however faint) potential for a future with J. Mind you, it's been a future-in-waiting for about 2 yrs now & it's been a rocky & confusing wait, but I guess inspite of all of that, something somewhere (my heart) and for some reason (love) inside me has still been holding a wee shred of hope for a reunion and our happily-ever-after...which moving seems like it would require letting go of completely. Perhaps that's what scares & pains me the most--it's what stirs the most panic & what makes me want to just stay & find a way to make it all work here instead.

Now why would I trade building a future rooted in my passion & of my own creation for something that has been dangling flimsily from a thread of uncertainty for 2 years now? I wish I knew. The truth is, I could build the artistic future here or there...there really are parallel pros & cons to getting it going in either city................

Ugh, this post is pissing me off. And I could wait & not post it like this, but I want a chronicle of the frustration, so I think I will leave it at that for now & post as is & come back w/ a fresher perspective...I'm too close at the moment.

xoxo!

catching dreams

Dream Catcher

mixed media assemblage by me

(for D's birthday)

I've been working on a list of "dreams"...intentions really...things I'd like to do/put out into the Universe as an offering and a request for help in achieving my heart's desires.

I have been feeling very nutured by the Universe lately, so I'm trusting it more. Maybe it's because I'm not fighting with myself as much. Maybe it's because I'm trying to trust the process more. And maybe it's just because I'm allowing myself to believe in myself for a change...especially when I stop long enough to see the signs & feel guiding hands giving me nudges & thumbs-ups.

So I thought I should put my list of dreams OUT THERE...as scary as that feels even though nobody is reading my blog but me. If for no other reason that to finally be able to say: I believe in my own dreams dammit! It is by no means a static list...it's a start. Perhaps I will update it every few months--cross off & add to.

1. earn a comfortable living exclusively thru creative/artistic means
2. share my passion for creativity & self-empowerment/healing (conduct art therapy/workshops)
3. find a partner to share my life withl, a man who encourages me to be my best, truest & silliest & is willing to be the same (hoping this is w/ a certain Scotsman, but open to what is meant to be)
4. explore photography
5. live in a unique, personalized house with a large studio/workshop
6. live part-time in Europe (UK most likely)
7. trust my journey and live with joy
8. write & get published
9. create/become part of a community of like-minded & inspiring friends
10. nurture myself physically, allowing myself to be healthy, strong & fit
11. learn a 2nd language (either improve my German or tackle Spanish)
12. dance regularly
13. cultivate a beautiful, ever-growing garden
14. risk more artistically & dream bigger creatively
15. show my work to the public
16. learn to sew
17. learn to knit and/or crochet
18. take life less seriously
19. take weekend/day trips

It's a small step...but every journey begins with one, right?
xoxo!