On My Terms

'On My Terms' 

5" x 7" oil on panel

$65 plus $8 US shipping, or $20 International

So my last painting was a mouse, today's is a cat. Any guesses about what tomorrow's will be? ;) I loved this close up view of this curious kitty because it made her eyes larger than life. And her markings are very unusual which I found very interesting. I love Siamese kitties. :) 

I had this painting finished but didn't post yesterday because I was on a field trip with my son. We had a lot of fun, cross country skiing (more on that in a minute), snowshoeing, and building some seriously cool ice caves. By the time I got home it was too dark to photograph so here it is today. I've been focusing on close ups of faces of all kinds with oils lately because I am driven to master this in my style. I was exactly the same when I started in watercolors. Obsessive much? 

I always volunteer to chaperone on field trips because my kids really like me to go (and I love that) and it's fun to see them interact with their friends and discover new things. This time I thought I'd just be watching over my son and his little group of friends I was assigned to. I did not think I'd be skiing (let me inform you that I have never in my life been skiing before, of any kind). So. . . I didn't really come prepared. No snow pants. And I wore my favorite suede boots. (Yes, major DUH on my part). 

But, trying to be a good sport, I strapped on my skis and gave it a whirl. I mean how hard could it be? We were on mostly flat land for goodness sake. Going straight in these little worn out trails from a million other skiers before us. Not downhill. I couldn't get into that much trouble. Or so I thought.

Everything was going well until we reached this hill that wasn't very steep but was very looooong. And then. . . I was an out of control woman on skis. I couldn't stop! Seriously. I was gaining speed ridiculously fast. The hill wasn't steep, but it was super slick and the next thing I know I'm on the ground, ski strapped feet up in the air. Snow melting into my non-snow pants (ie: jeans) covered bottom. 

Along comes an instructor (where were you 30 seconds ago hmmm?) saying "keep your knees to your skis!" (a direct quote from the video they had us watch about how to get up once you'd fallen) in an all too cheerful voice as he zooms past me. 

I get up. And try again. I fall. Again. I get up. I fall. This pattern repeats quite a lot over the next ten minutes. And I STILL haven't made it down that hill. I can't even see my little group of fifth grade charges anymore. They gone. Long gone.

I fall one last time. Ski instructor zooms past again, still so cheerfully calling out to me "Keep your knees to your skis!" I grumble under my breath that if he says that one more time I've got a much better place for my knee to go.   

This is when I admit defeat. I need to find my group of kids. So I take my skis off and decide to walk the rest of the way down the hill. Unfortunately this is where I lose my grip on one of my skis and off it goes zooming down the hill of its own accord, unencumbered by its not so graceful host. I take off after it, running, no sprinting, down that hill to catch my rogue ski, when suddenly it veers off into the wilderness. 

Naturally I decide to follow it. Pretty soon I'm not running anymore, but marching through deep, deep snow, sinking lower with each step. I look around and notice the trees sure are little in this part of the woods, only about two feet tall. I can even touch the tops of them. A red flag pops up in my head. I can't see the ski anymore and I really don't care at this point because I've just realized that these are not little trees, they are the bare tops of trees that are covered in tons of snow. 

Now I realize why I kept feeling like I was sinking. Because I was! I get the heck out of there faster than a shopper at midnight on Black Friday. The ski's on its own. It's every woman for herself. 

I survived and lived to paint another day. I found my kids, and I told the instructor that I lost a ski (he was ever so nice about this, which made me inwardly cringe about my earlier grumbling about where to put my knee) and the rest of the day was spent with a much lower stress level on my part, and a lot of snowball throwing on the kids part.

It was a good day. But I was never more happy to get into my nice warm house than I was last night. 

At least I won't have to do this again. At least. . . not for a few more years until my second grader is in fifth grade.

*Gulp*

Reference photo by Tiffany Lauren, thank you!