Sooooo I Painted Something

I was recently informed that I have been remiss in posting to my blog. What actually happened is my mother said "You're slacking on your blog." I'm not sure how it happened or why, because I have been sewing and knitting (heavens, have I been knitting. I'm knitting and purling in my sleep!) but the sewing projects have been functional things--fixing zippers and the like. And I'm not sure that even though the yarn I'm using is beautiful that you'll want to see pictures of endless heathery tan ribbed knitting. I'm hoping to break the low-blogging habit I've gotten into. I have noticed, though, that blogging in general seems to be fading a bit. I guess it's because Instagram can make it so easy to share a picture and a description without logging on, uploading pics, and trying to think of what to write. Still, I'm a wordy person and I am very low-skilled at texting in an efficient and quick manner, so I prefer my blog, actually. Consider that long-winded thing an apology for my absence, haha.

OK, so anyway. The only things I can really do are sew and manipulate yarn with a hook or some needles. I can't make jewelry, I am not a good cook, and I certainly don't have a bone in my body that can draw anything (unless we're talking about a house with two windows and a door, an apple tree, and possibly a rainbow--because I'll nail that). A few weeks ago, though, my sisters got all "Hey, do you want to do Painting With a Twist?" I don't know if you have that where you live or anything similar, but you basically go to a place, bringing your own snacks and drinks (alcoholic or otherwise), and sit in a room while an instructor and some assistants help you to make the featured painting for that particular night. I fell in adoration with the painting for that night, and figured if I was stinkeroo that I would just switch it with my sister's (who has painted before and is pretty good for the dabbling she does).

There are a few long tables in the room, and you're kind of packed elbow to elbow (I would have liked a little more room and a few more paper towels, though). The instructor tells you exactly what to do--where, how, what brush, what color, and so on. It's almost fail-proof. I was feeling really nervous because I'm much more comfortable behind my sewing machine. Having the first step being blending your paints in a way that looks like moonlight didn't ease my nerves much. I was feeling kind of "Oh, dear" about it at first.

But as I looked around the room I saw that everyone's moonlight looked like one of those Halloween treats where you wrap a tissue around a lollipop and call it a ghost. The instructor told us to paint a shadow on the moon, but my Sheldon Cooper brain wouldn't let me (I couldn't help wondering what would be casting such a shadow, and that it would have to be a planet or something to really have an impact and then we wouldn't be painting a full moon and I wasn't going to get anywhere so I skipped that part in the interest of science).

Then you pick up another brush, and hold it this way, and do this, then hold it that way and do that, and before you know it you have some terrain and a spooky looking tree.

I felt much more comfortable doing this part as it was much more defined than the blending colors part. That weird sheen is just the wet paint. You get a few minutes to blast it with a hair dryer so you don't get black all over the next part. You get a sponge, dip it in some paint, and dab it on the branches. My critical self (which never shuts up) thinks this part could use some work, but my logical self knows that it's a first painting and not bad, and my creative self absolutely loves it for what it is and for the fact that I have it hanging in the bedroom and that it makes me gaze at it for a few minutes each night before bed.

I like how the tree looks like it's hugging the moon. My pink splotches could be more logically placed, as it looks like the moon has a bad case of pink eye, but the stars and the moon I just absolutely love. Love!

So if you have something like this available to you I super recommend it. I initially said yes in the interest of girls' night cohesiveness but was very nervous about being able to make anything other than a mess. My mother felt the same way, and almost literally looked like a deer in the headlights as we started. But all of us left feeling quite successful and proud of ourselves--and you can't really beat that as a business model.