SHE says I have too much jam......

"Starry Night in Heart's Desire" Hand-Carved, Mixed Media by Cara & Pam

An artist on The Charles Bridge in Prague who called himself "The Devil" and made devilly art. He was the jam for a lot of people's peanut butter!

Being an artist is a funny old business. Selling the things you create to other people sometimes feels even funnier still. I am constantly amazed at the choices people make here in our own little gallery and love to observe people buying art at other galleries, craft shops and street markets.

“I’ll take this! I have just the spot for it!” says a lovely lady who excitedly hands me a 3 foot tall painted cat that is holding a cupcake, wearing high heels and a pink bikini.

Really? I am thinking......you have just the spot for that? How amazing and perfect- and how very interesting that of all the things there are to choose from, you chose that.

And that is the magic of creating things. No matter what you create - how bizarre, strange, whacky, boring, cock-a-doodle-doo, tiny or massive – someday, someone will come along who needs it.

“They” say that each of us has a soul mate out there- the jam for your peanut butter, the fruit for your loom- and I think that could be true.

  I also think that every piece of art or craft, every painting that is painted and every drawing that is drawn has a soul mate.  When they find each other – magic.  Watching someone spot a piece of artwork that sings to their soul is a wonderful thing to witness. As an artist person, this makes me very happy indeed.

What doesn’t make HER very happy anymore is when I see other artist’s crafts and paintings and magical works that sing to MY soul. It happens a lot. A LOT, and I often inform Her that will possibly die if She doesn’t let me buy the lovely rug hooked mat or that my morning coffee would taste SO much better if I had THIS hand-made mug- I hold it up to show how Her how it fits perfectly in my hand and brings out the blue in my eyes. I haven’t died yet, but I HAVE had all credit cards, cheques and various methods of paying for arts and crafts removed from my pretty wallet. SHE says we have to draw the line somewhere.  I ask, can we draw the line on the boring, white wall you just painted  in the dining room? Ignoring my question, SHE says that the house is filled to the brim and that I should enjoy the soul mates that I have.  (Thank you to various friends who have been gifting me the teeniest, tiniest of arts and crafts.....a 3 mm tall kitten, ½ inch pottery pots! They are tiny but fill up my soul like a bag of puffed wheat left out in the rain!

P.S. If YOU need to fill up your soul with wonderful crafts....hand-hooked rugs, lovely pottery, hand-made jewellery, checks out www.craftcouncil.nl.ca . You see?  I have had to resort to becoming a pusher.

A Few Notes on Loving Goats.......

"For So Many Moons I've Loved You"

Hand-Carved, Mixed Media by Cara &Pam (sold)

I love my goat Rose and she loves me. She often stands outside my studio door and watches me while I paint. Sometimes she pushes her goaty nose against the window and makes nose drawings. Almost daily,  she dances a goaty jig up and down the stairs which makes me laugh and then eats my prized pine tree knowing that I couldn't possible get cross with such a comedian. In a month or so it will be her first birthday and I honestly can't remember what life was like before Rose. She has become the main attraction in many of my pieces and pops up almost as often as Papa Luigi, my so-very-squishy marmelade cat.
I must have had a goat-shaped hole in my heart.
SHE pretends that Rose is a bit of a pain and that Rosie is MY goat. She says that SHE never wanted a goat in the first place. I know differently. I might have been "The Skipper" but She was Gilligan and signed up for that three hour tour. I often hear HER singing in the back garden. Lovely little goat songs that only Rose would understand. And when She thinks I'm not looking, She dances with Rose and plays tag and IT and hide and go seek. Secrets are shared. It seems to me, that She also had a goat-shaped hole in Her heart. She just didn't know it.
(I am now trying to convince Her that I also have a rabbit-shaped hole, a sheep-shaped hole and two chicken-shaped holes in my heart. SHE says that THAT ship just isn't going to sail.)
I wonder if She would settle for filling the Red-Shoe-shaped hole in my heart instead?






Finding My Joy...................

"While Uncle Jack Was Jigging...." by Cara Kansala * Acrylic on Canvas 

Happy in its new home. Thank you R and P for sending the photograph.

I have a squishy heart. That's what SHE calls it. A soft, squishy heart that very easily gets broken but luckily, mends and grows strong again in no time at all.
Often times, I get  attached to my paintings. Probably because they are based on places I have traveled with friends, happy memories or stories I have been told by darling people I have met along the way. My paintings are a big part of me.They are my JOY. Sometimes, it is hard to let them go. Almost every time one leaves, I fall into a great panic and then get a wee bit sad. I often have a cry. She doesn't mind at all and is always extra nice. She has to remind me that the people who bought the painting were very nice indeed and that they wouldn't have taken it if they didn't love it, too. She tells me the painting will be happy in its new home and  then gives me diet Root Beer with ice and a licorice penny.
Sometimes, I am lucky enough to get a photograph of a painting in it's new home and this always makes me happy.
Today I found a new JOY just down the road and can't wait to get painting. In a magical spot, on the curb of the sea is a lovely little place that keeps goats. Happy goats that smile. Three of the ladies just had kiddies and they were the sweetest things since cinnamon toast. One of them had the biggest ears since time began. I have no doubt that when it gets bigger, it too will smile. What an amazing place this Newfoundland has been for me. Everything I have ever needed is here on this funny island. Oceany air, pinky red skies, friends who love to laugh with me and at me, goats that smile and JOY. An overflowing bucket of joy.

JOY

                                                           

Why I Never Paint Sill Life......

Even The Wee Italian Didn't Want Me to Paint the Sill

ME: "It is such a dreary day, I think I am going to paint the window sill."

HER: OH NO YOU ARE NOT!! I JUST PAINTED THAT ROOM WHITE LAST MONTH! CAN WE PLEASE JUST LEAVE IT ALONE? DO YOU HAVE TO PAINT EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE? I WOULD REALLY LIKE THE ROOM TO STAY WHITE......WHY DON'T YOU GO UP TO THE GOAT HOUSE AND PAINT SOMETHING THERE? CARA, I AM PUTTING MY FOOT DOWN ON THIS ONE!"

Wow! I am thinking that She really feels strongly about this. What I meant was that I was going to paint the window sill on canvas....the flowers, the blooms, the cat. On canvas. I wouldn't dream of painting over Her lovely, white room. I now have the choice of correcting Her and telling Her about the canvas and letting Her know that She misunderstood me OR I can let Her think that She is getting Her way and agree NOT to paint the window sill.
(because I am full of the badness.......)
ME: "Ok. You're right. We SHOULD just leave the window sill white.I'll go up to the studio"
HER:....full of relief,  "OK".

I'll let Her know later on or maybe when She reads this just how much impact  "PUTTING HER FOOT DOWN" had on me. I've no doubt what She stepped IN when the  foot went down........I just hope She takes Her boots off before coming into house.
P.S. Thank you SO much to G&S for the gorgeous flowers...it was such a fun lunch. Rose had a ball too!

      "Summer Sky" Upper Island Cove (detail) by Cara Kansala *Oil on Canvas

A Valentine's Day Truce

The Wee Italian: "Stan, Will You Be My Valentine?"

Stan: "OK"

My Artistic License is A Bit Worn Around the Edges but it Still Works.....

"Upper Island Cove- The Tiny Lime House by the Sea" by Cara Kansala 2012

Acrylic on Canvas * 4 feet by 3 feet

Upper Island Cove Sunrise...see, the sky IS pinkly!

Snow Day, Upper Island Cove

This past week, I decided that since winter clearly wasn't leaving, I would paint my own summer.
An artistic license. I have one. The photo isn't very good and I had to stand in line for a very long time to get it.There were endless forms to fill out and it cost more than I thought it would, but I have one now and I am happy.
On occasion, I have had to take out my artistic license to prove that #1, I had one and #2, I was allowed to use it. Some people who are a bit nervous about my purple whales and pinkly skies feel better when they know that I am indeed, certified.

For years I insisted I was Peter Rabbit's sister "Flopsy" and I still drink camomile tea every night before bed.

"Underneath the Stars" by Cara & Pam
*Currently on Sale at The Alexis Templeton Studio *
75 Quidi Vidi Road, St. John's

I have a quirky imagination. It often works the late shift, does over-time and is ALWAYS on call. If it had its’ own pager, it would be beeping. Constantly.

You can imagine, then, that when I read books - really, really great books, it’s like giving my imagination cotton candy cupcakes with gumdrops on top…..a sugary high like no other.
During a read, I drive Her insane. The characters become my friends, my buddies, my pals. I am living with them in their world and want so much to be able to pull them through the pages into mine.
“Should we invite Katnis and Peeta for dinner?” I’ll say.
“Sure!” She replies, until She realizes that these are not actual people with bones and eyelashes and toenails. They are characters from The Hunger Games book I am currently devouring.
“You seem worried. What are you thinking about?” She asks.
“Joan.” I answer.
“Joan? Do we know a Joan?” She says.
“She lives in her closet. Hardly ever comes out.” I say, distracted.
“IS JOAN A CHARACTER IN YOUR BOOK?” She hollers.
“Yes, but I am still a bit worried about her!”
Barbara Gowdy, you are awesome.
I nearly drove Her ‘round the bend while reading Annabel by Kathleen Winter….(one of my favourite books of all time, since time began). I fell so in love with the characters and went into a state of mourning when I turned the last page because the story was over. I wanted to move to Labrador.
Lucky ducks are the authors who get to hang out with their characters whenever they want. They can have pot-lucks and movie nights, quiet conversations over cups of tea and even go on road trips. They know all of their characters secrets. If I lived next door to a writer, I would definitively hope for an invitation to the get-togethers. Gardening and general yard maintenance would be a nightmare for them….”Hello, HELLO! Hello Kathleen! I see you are busy planting spring bulbs but I was wondering what Annabel is doing NOW?”
My head is bursting with all of my characters - friends I have made since I started to read. Raggedy Anne, Charlotte, Anne Shirley, Emma, Lisbeth Salander, Mrs. Noyes, the list is endless. I was introduced to them all, got to know them and still remember their names. Magic.
Also an avid reader, She and I have fabulous discussions about the books we choose to spend our time with. We read very different kinds of stories and maybe it’s good that we can’t really invite the characters over for dinner. Mrs. Danvers would have Diana Barry in tears by the second course.

A Fowl Day For Bird Watching.....

Image: "Lovebird" by Cara & Pam

Image: Hour 3, up the tree. At this point, Blanche wouldn't say no to a warm bed and a cup o' soup.

Blanche is one dedicated gal. Yesterday, she spent 4 hours patiently sitting in the bird-feeder tree, waiting for supper. Perhaps she was trying to catch a Valentine's Day present for Stanley. Maybe it was just a trap, to catch a bird and keep it for a pet. I'm not sure but clearly she is going about it the wrong way. She should be hidden from her target and she should should have at least 3 delights on offer.....perhaps peanut butter on a stick, suet AND birdseed. Soft music...."Sounds of the Forest" wouldn't hurt.

I know this because many years ago I waited for 4 hours in the shrubs myself. A plate of meatballs and sauce was the bait. There were a few lovely, Italian socks scattered around the pavement. Alas, I got my bird in the hand and now my goose is cooked. I hope Blanche knows what she's doing!!

P.S. On a different note, several minutes ago, I asked Her to please put my purse in the closet. Just now as I was typing away, BooBoo threw up into my open purse which was still on the floor. It is going to be one of those days.

For Sale: $2200 Cat Tree

Short on pedestals, SHE thought it would be a good idea to put my favourite sculpture in the kitchen sitting room.
A letter of thanks from the cats was left on the counter this morning:
Deer Missis Ladee Hoo Lives in hour howse and gives us the foods and digs in our sandbox,
Tank to yoo fur the new toy. It is gud fur jumpin' on and BooBoo got all her nales scrached. I chooed on the roap an' filed my teets on the pretti blu waves. Foofi carrved hees name on it too.
Yoo are a gud ladee. 
Can wee hav sum more foods pleese?
Luv Lily, BooBoo, Bear, Nana and Foofi