Turning a new page (or two)

First of all ...

this is really the way my cat drinks water. Actor portrayal.

My actual cat doing this.

Things don't always go the way you planned. It's not always bad, but before you see the good, you can only register disappointment. Sometimes it's something you can control (maybe you messed up), sometimes not.

New York City is a hard place to try something new. When I arrived, I was completely overwhelmed by all the people and the cramped spaces and the sheer overload of the senses (and suddenly Philly didn't look so bad anymore). I was also taking on a completely new career: hair. During this time, I also tried self-publishing my novels. All good stuff to try, but sometimes life throws you a curve.

a hairstyle I can really be excited about

The hair industry is tied heavily to the fashion industry and to editorial styling, much of which I don't give two s**ts about (probably why I've been pushed out of certain salons -- even one I loved very much). My co-workers were all about experimenting with pairing bowties and suspenders with pleated jeans and shirts you could see straight through, and pants that may or may not have been pajama bottoms. I wore something I thought looked professional (and felt comfortable enough cleaning toilets in).

When I decided to get into hair, I thought the best I could expect was to sell makeup to people at Macy's or work at Supercuts. Neither of those options are what you do in NYC. You style celebrities. Or old people who've had a lot of cosmetic surgery and wish they looked 25. They complain about why no one wants to wear tailored clothes anymore to a person making less than minimum wage. Often it feels like you're dressing in your absolute best clothes and coiffing your hair to get on your hands and knees to scrub the bases of the chairs: the best dressed janitor in town.

Finally, though, something miraculous happens and you're able to get your hands on a client's hair to do some styling yourself, and go at it with such gusto that you give yourself carpal tunnel syndrome within the first two months.

Someone loves you, regardless.

So I went to get some acupuncture on my wrists and cut my hours back at work (at a place now where I feel like I finally fit in, which is a miracle in itself). The only glitch is that I'm not cutting any hair at this place, but trying to fill those gaps with freelance work.

Somewhere in all that, I lost my love of hair. I was excited about it at the beginning, but now I feel like I'm banging my head against a wall and it might be better to give up than to try another place and another and another.

One of the biggest draws about this city is that there are a million different options. At the beginning of my hair career, I understood that if one place didn't work out, I would eventually find my perfect match and everything would be fine. That is still true. Somewhere out there is a salon where I won't feel like everyone's sneering at my sparkly t-shirt and uncomplicated hair, where I can cut a client's hair and get paid for it, and where I don't feel like I have to put on a costume and a fake persona to fit in. That place exists. But can I stop feeling wounded enough to go find it?

I'm adding henna to my resume, and enjoying it very much. Since I've been drawing most of my life, I've picked this up relatively quickly, because it just involves drawing with a different medium. It's artistic and involves "beauty" without being either hair or makeup. Kind of a fresh start.

I've taken down a few of my self-published works in an effort to only showcase my best and try again with traditional publishing. It feels like a step backward, but it isn't. The hair thing will work itself out, hopefully without me having to become an office temp again. I'll get my henna practice in and book some parties. I'll find an agent who loves my fiction and maybe make a moderate living that way.

Sometimes you have to step back. Sometimes you have to try something new to get something to work. I'm sure all this headbanging will prove productive in the end as long as I'm adjusting my approach each time. Or at the very least, it'll look like I'm rocking out pretty hard.

Old/New

New work in progress:

Repainting my old Scary Spice doll. Need to touch up, and do something with that hair and costume now. 

New Projects

Finally designed a cover for Caligari that I like. Simple, yet mysterious. Hopefully scary.

In a completely different direction, I've been doing some other visual art. This time it's my cosmetology mannequin that's gotten the business end of it. And she wasn't used for her intended styling purpose. Observe:

The original factory paint (and yes, an unfortunate haircut ... that part's about to get worse)

Face pain removed (sharpie doesn't come off with acetone, so the bindi and name stays)

Primary repaint including eyes and skin tone (and there's that mental patient haircut. chop chop!)

Where I ended for the day. More detailing on the eye, some lip color, and a bit of shading on the skin. I'll put on some fake eyelashes and do more detailing once the paint dries. I think this is a good first attempt at oil painting. People told me it would be hard, but I found it really enjoyable. 

My goal is something like this. Obviously, I'm not going to get the same realistic look because I'm using the world's ugliest mannequin. In terms of paint quality, anyway, this is what I'm shooting for. Once Tussauds has another job opening, I want to be READY.

Sketch of the Day: Aishwarya

Sketch of the day: Belly Dancer

I used to draw. A lot. All day.  This resulted in some pretty refined drawing skills, which apparently stayed with me (did the above sketch today in about 2 hours with a regular writing pencil). Not sure at all why I stopped, but something in my heart wants to start again. I'm going to try to do a drawing every few days and share it -- basically for my own benefit (don't expect price lists or anything).

Edit:

The pictured belly dancer is Rachel Brice. Check her out in motion:

Art

We'll just start where my thoughts have been pooling the past few days:

Granted, most of you have already read about this and I'm much too late to say anything relevant. (Don't we all have personal issues that prevent us from getting on with fun stuff?)

As something of an artist myself, I would think that if I attempted a job like this, especially on a painting I loved, I would make sure I had the skills to complete it -- and if not, to know when to stop  the minute I realized I'd effed the em-effer up. Apparently, the amateur restorationist in question started with the tunic and continued upward. It just ... hurts my heart to look at this, but like the freaking train wreck that it is, I can't stop going, "why? how -- it doesn't even look like -- I can't -- HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??" And look at the scroll that's now at the bottom ... it wasn't even on the original!

Something good has come out of this. The tourism this painting is generating is boosting the economy in the small Spanish town where it's located. Some people think the painting should be kept as it is for this reason. There's a video of Mr. Bean "fixing" a painting in that article.

And for a hilarious look at what "Ecce Mono" might tweet about, follow @FrescoJesus

ANYWAY...

I've been working on my own artistic project recently, and here it is:

The only thing I have to do now is finish the damned novel this cover goes on. Otherwise, it's useless.

Writing could be going better, but as the previously mentioned personal drama suggests, I've hit a tiny creativity snag. Or maybe I've been over-saturating my brain with this story and I desperately need a break.

What do you all do when you've hit a wall, creatively speaking? Do you focus on a different hobby or go for a walk? I especially enjoyed making this cover -- maybe because I was still on the same project, but in a totally different way.

Any comments or critiques on the cover are much appreciated. And if you'd like to "restore" it with a monkey face (a'la the botched fresco above), please send me a .jpg.