Bird Brain

Last night I went to a lecture on the migration of New York's American-Indian(hyphen? no hyphen?) tribes. The room was crowded and too warm and it smelled like pizza...which can be awesome if you are eating pizza and horrid if you are not. However, the lecture was exceptional and my fuzzy little brain focuses better when I'm inking. I decided it was officially time to christen the new sketchbook I got for my birth-day.

I sat next to some skinny and nerdy boy (swoon) who couldn't take his eyes off my page. Never intimidated by attractive onlookers - I kept drawing, fitting each bird into his respective nook and cranny. When the lecture was winding down he leaned over and pinched my elbow in that come-here-I-need-to-whisper-something-to-you way.

"Gee, you must really like birds, huh?"

YES. Yes, I really like birds.

In my defense it was a lecture about migration! I guess I should have been drawing cowboys and Indians. Stay tuned next week ;)

Happy Tuesday.

listening to right this second: "2 legit 2 quit" -- MC Hammer

30 By 30

Today when I woke up I was suddenly 28. twenty-eight. TWENTY-EIGHT!?!?

In two years I'll be #) - I couldn't type that quite right because I closed my eyes and guessed at the keys -- I've got two years to come to rips <--not an intentional typo, but Jen would leave it and I think I should too with it. Yikes. I remember when my mom turned 28 - vomit.

I often have people - mainly young artists, sometimes older artists -- occasionally random non-artists write me to ask how I accomplish everything I get done in a day. The answer is simple: LISTS.
I'm a list making fiend. Sometimes once I accomplish something I go back and add it to a list if it wasn't there before. I live for crossing things out.

A while ago Michelle My Belle posted something sparkly and inspirational, as per her usual. Seriously, is there anything that girl can't do?

I picked up the torch and started this list. Sticking to her parameters, this should be a list of things I'm doing this year -- and it is. I'm just thinking ahead and giving myself 24 months - YIKES ONLY 24 MONTHS?!!? to cross everything off it. We'll see where the next two years lead me. I sincerely hope you're all along for the ride. Thank you for all your support. You make my life more beautiful than it already is -- and I live in Brooklyn, so that's saying something.

1. Have 'Pammie's Jammies' published and on shelves in the Brooklyn's Writers section of 'Books on Court'
   
2. Increase blog readership
3. Have Amber Ink. turning an obvious and clear profit
4. Learn to sew and drape and make awesomemanawsome stuff
   
5. Get mega in shape
6. Take classes at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden
7. Form a group that inspires creativity and beauty
8. Be financially and freelance-ially set to be my own boss without a full time job-job
9. Travel the Mediterranean
   
10. Learn to speak a second language
11. Attend a kindling retreat
    
12. License my art to a major fashion retail brand
13. Fall in love
    
14. Illustrate for a rock star
15. Own an original Mary Blair
16. Be published in a magazine with national circulation
17. Learn to ballroom dance
18. Design a children's facility
19. Send more snail mail
    
20. Throw more theme parties
    
21. Learn to drive
22. Organize wildly amazing dinner club
    
23. Live in Coeur d'Alene
24. Watch every movie that's ever won an Academy Award for 'Best Picture'
25. Make a picture quilt and enter it in a contest
26. Scan and document all design sketches and licensing data so it's at my fingertips whenever I need it. In a word: Max-Organized
    
27. Own a fancy pants SLR camera and know how to use it
28. Give more - volunteer, support charity, randomly and to friends
    
29. Pick one topic a month to study ala 5th grade. So I don't ever worry about not learning.
30. Upcycle more in my decorating as I tackle this little apartment that I want to be magazine ready.

Ode to Chilly Dog Blog

It's once again the time of year where I get to do wild double takes over dogs in their winter finest. I have always freely judged and laughed at owners who dress their dogs in fancy fleeces. This year, thanks to the dog snuggie, my glee has run deeper than ever. One of the very first lessons ever learned at my mother's knee assured me that animals had their own coats and they didn't need ours. Thanks Little Bear (for everything). The thing is... I don't remember New York being as cold-cold as it was this last week!!!

I've never had a New York City dog. My dog was all island.
I was raised side by side with the worlds noblest, greatest, most wonderful dog. He was more than a pet, he was a brother. Seriously, since the dawn of time there has been no greater mammal to ever walk on all fours... If there were any question in your mind I offer up the following:Here he is as the cutest puppy ever. See? Not up for debate.
He appreciated the years I spent undergoing obligatory french-braiding on my mom's torture chair, even if I could not.

I'm sitting on the our front porch steps surrounded by my brother and sister in one of our many hours of puppy worship.
Palette never saw the difference between him as a dog and us as humans. Why should he fetch sticks when we were all throwing sticks? No. He'd throw sticks with us. We could all run into the water and get our own sticks. Pal was all about playing fair.
He was wonderfully patient and willing to waiting his turn, whether it was a family board game or...

opening our stockings Christmas morning... We'd all be gathered on the floor sharing everything we'd found in our sox and he'd stand alert pointing at the last stocking hanging on the hooks. He knew that our stockings were our loot and he was not interested. He wanted that stocking. Somehow he just knew it was his.Pal lived for Christmas. Santa brought him to us when I was eight and Ashton was five and April was a mere three years old. He was a Christmas puppy and he was all about tradition. It's almost as if Santa really had bundled him up and driven him in a sleigh to Hawaii just for us. He would hop and jump and thrill the minute the holiday decoration boxes came out of storage. I truly cannot imagine my childhood without him. He always was and always will be the greatest gift of my youth. I miss him fairly often, whenever I see a good looking Retriever on my Carroll Garden Streets, or when I hang those first few garlands up in my apartment.

Pal's one and only flaw was that he was a wimp. In the middle of Hawaii's winter Oahu temperature might drop to a frigid 62 degrees on the coldest of nights. Pal would stand outside our double screen doors whimpering and whining. How could we be so cruel as to not make him a hat and a coat and some gloves to keep him warm in the wind?

If I were lucky enough to have him here with me today. I'd want him wearing a scarf.

These pups were drawn in freeeeeezing plein air at Madison Square Park.
OH and YES. That is a Scotty in a doggie-hoodie.

listening to right this second: "every breath you take" -- the police

Going to the Birds

I've been peeking at Spoonflower.com off and on for a while now. They have weekly fabric design contests that seem like a hoot to participate in. I'm usually just swamped for time. I like the idea of whipping something up for a challenge in a few hours, helllow Project Runway Obsession... I decided to approach this week's Fabric-of-the-Week challenge in a similar way. I set a timer and gave myself three hours. Here is what happened:

The Color Palette:

The Challenge: Use It.
Oh. Use it to draw some birds. In a repeat.

The Sketches:

The End Result:
listening to right this second: "all will be well" -- the gabe dixon band

Ring Out the Old!

Ring in the New!

This morning I arrived moody and upset at the airport after spending a hellish red-eye flight next to Neanderthal man and his lesser-half child bride. I was already a little homesick. I know that with my family in Utah instead of Hawaii and my brother working for Delta that I get to see them much more than any other time in my adult life, but the drama queen in me likes to wonder "When will we meet again?!"

I hailed a cab from the curb of JFK. Stepping into the familiar yellow taxi I shook out my snow covered scarf. We left Queens, keeping to Atlantic Avenue in a wild flurry of snow that blanketed everything in sight. I couldn't help but feel a deep satisfaction and calm wash over me as we made our way into Brooklyn. When we turned on Court Street and I felt my neighborhood get closer, that familiar warmth of belonging made my pulse quicken in excitement. I hadn't been out of the cab long enough to grab my suitcase when the grocer from the fruit market across the street yelled out "Ahhhhh Happy New Year Miss Amber!!!!" I lugged my "way over-sized" luggage up to my third floor apartment. At the top of the stairs it hit me, we're at the end of a decade! I hadn't really put it together yet. I took a moment to reflect on the past. I was senior at Kahuku High this time ten years ago. Now I am here. (picture a big red x on a map of awesome)

I CANNOT wait to kick 2009 to the curb, let's be honest, it's been seven kinds of lame. At the same time, I smile so broadly on the the last decade.

Ten years ago I rang in the decade of double zeros with my family, Pacific Ocean side. I distinctly remember chasing my twelve-year-old sister down a sandy stretch of beach with a sparkler held aloft.

at that point in my life

• I hadn't ever spent a night completely alone.
• I didn't know what it felt like to have friends that are like family.
• I'd never been in love.
  
• I'd never swam in the Atlantic Ocean.
• I didn't comprehend how a computer could do anything but hinder you as an artist.
• I had absolutely no idea how anyone could stand talk radio.
• I swam faster than I walked.
• My skin was about ten shades darker.
• I wanted to be a full-time animator.
• I hadn't lost anyone close to me.
• I hadn't graduated from high school.
• I was more interested in biology than I was in any other subject in school, including art.
• I had in no way embraced my inner-nerd. I spat at her, embarrassed when she showed her 'glasses-face'.
• I had no idea how to walk in heels.
• I was torn, wondering whether Blink 182 or Weezer was the best band of all time.
  
• I didn't know how to ask for what I really wanted.
• I was often paralyzed by my fear of the unknown.
• I didn't know how to stand up for myself.
• I trusted so easily.
• I wouldn't ever guess that I'd live for tough contract negotiation or that I'd thrill at the challenges that come with new clients.
• I didn't have an identity or a style as an artist - I was fairly sure I wouldn't ever find one.
• I was terrified at the idea of disappointing my family and my community.
• I hadn't yet made the decision of Brooklyn's Pratt Institute over Valincia's Cal Arts.
• I was sure I that no matter my choice, I would want to work for a huge company in California as an animator after I graduated from college.

I had no idea that a decade later I'd be in love with my life, confident in who I am as an artist and an individual. How could I know that I'd be thriving, making a living as an artist in New York City? I didn't know that I'd have so many rich experiences or that I'd live through so many hard lessons. I didn't know that I would have so many people in my life who make living fun, exciting, challenging and oh-so-rewarding. Who could know that I'd love Brooklyn as much as I loved my sprawling white-sand "back yard"? When I'm here, I am home, my soul knows it.

I wish I could go back there for just a moment and really see my seventeen-year-old self. I know how scared she was and how worried she was that she couldn't make it in this big world. I know how terrified she was to leave her family all the way across the country. She loved where she was but she needed to go somewhere new. She wondered if it was a mistake to fly off to a totally new existence in a far off place where she knew nothing and no one. She wondered how New York could be the right choice. How could you ever feel at home somewhere so big and urban? Plus, what if she didn't make any friends? What if college at an art school was as hellish as high school had been? What if she wasn't even that great an artist? What if she couldn't do it?

I'd go back and hold her hand and tell her that she was in for such an 'effing-fantastic adventure. I wish I could let her know that in ten years time, at twenty-seven, she wouldn't change a thing about the path she'd taken. It's been a Robert Frost journey. I wish she would know not to care when people tell her she's throwing away huge opportunities. Then she wouldn't be so nervous when she turned some things down for other chances that just "feel right". I wish I could let her know that broken hearts mend, that career crises subside and that the people who matter most are the people who let you be yourself. Most of all I wish she knew that New Year's Eve 2009 would find her shimmying into something fancy and scrubbing India Ink from under her nails before running out into the night full of glee and anticipation for everything that is coming now, without a smidgen of worry. Then she'd know that it's a wonderful life and that everything works out the way it's supposed to. I wish she knew she'd be giddy about staring down a New Year, excited to get started on a new decade, "a new day with no mistakes in it yet."

Happy New Year, my loves. I hope it finds you and everything you love, healthy, happy and ready to pop the cork on a bright new future. Let's see what the next ten years brings us, shall we?

"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day." ~Edith Lovejoy Pierce

listening to right this second: "run" -- snow patrol

Owl Done

Hehe. Sometimes I crack me up.

You can see the progress on this little journey here
and don't here.
Voila!

Something Old and Something New

After twenty-five years of Hawaiian life, my parents recently relocated from the North Shore of Oahu to the Middle of Nowhere Utah.

As I prepared to vacate Brooklyn I packed my warmest clothes and made sure that I hadn't forgotten leggings and scarves. I laughed/cried when I got to unpacking at my parent's place and realized I'd absent mindedly packed not one, but two bathing suits. Old habits die hard.

I quickly busied myself poking around the joint, making sure that things were put "just so". After all, just because it's a new location doesn't mean that things should change. (This is where I start singing Fiddler on the Roof's 'Tradition! TRADITION!')

New: This "woodland upstairs tree". My mom was set on two trees this year! Witness our first major 'Hawaiian Christmas' violation. I can safely bet you that no one in Hawaii decked the halls with two trees this year....

New: ALL of these Ornaments! What? New Ornaments? This is not adhering to protocol. Ornaments can be given as gifts or purchased to commemorate important life milestones. They can be bought on vacations and picked up in small doses at after Christmas sales. They are NOT supposed to be bought in bulk to fit a theme!

But... this tree is pretty cute. I kind of do adore those funky little owls. You know I'm prone to loving you know who?
Old: The teddy bear snow on the windows saved my mom from my skepticism. I was totally afraid she'd shirk this very important tradition. Growing up in a snowless existence makes fake snow on the windows vital to creating the perfect holiday vibe. I was worried that with all the powder on the ground outside this vital bit of decor would go the way of the Dodo. How could I have ever questioned her? Oh. Wait. I know How:

New: This Downstairs Blue Spruce Christmas tree.
Ahwuah? A blue Christmas tree? It is pokey and sharp and unlike the Douglass Furs and Palm Tree Christmases that I was raised on. I paced around it, suspicious like a cat.
I poked around and slowly located all the important things that make for a perfect Christmastime.

Several Ice Cream Angels polka-dot this suspicious spruce. This may come as a heart-attack inducing shock, but I wasn't always wicked cool. As a seventh grader I became obsessed with making these ice cream spoon angels. Their little wooden bodies are crocheted into proper holiday get-ups. I turned a pretty fair little business selling them at the Blaisdell Craft Fair. Mom saved just the right amount of them to bedeck the tree forevermore. Their little mouth-less faces have been a Christmas constant ever since.
This Maneki Neko is a good luck cat. It's important that he's prowling in the branches. He brings a great New Year.
This Santa Icicle is one of my very favorite pieces to put on the tree. I like his crystal blue eyes and his snowy beard. There is part of me that secretly loves and the way he can stab people into being nice with his pointed stare and facial hair shiv. Hmm... right about now I'm loving the way this blue tree showcases the ornaments....
This chubby little mermaid speaks directly to my well documented obsession. It reminds me of perfect Christmas days by land and by sea.
This rainbow block was my first ornament way back in 1982. How could my parents know this Mary Blair-esque decoration would so perfectly speak to my design aesthetic decades later? It's one of my top five favorites on our overflowing tree.
I think I was eight when this ornament was wrapped in the brightest candy cane red wrapping paper and labeled with my name. It might have melted my brain. I'd never seen anything so perfectly beautiful.

Ever since it's been my "magic glass flying pony."
Never mind that it is not glass, it's some form of iridescent plastic. Forget that it's a Pegasus and not a pony, its title has stuck. I remember thinking it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Its presence on the new/odd/strangely alluring tree reminds me that The Christmas Spirit can transform things. So I might be in a snowy Utah Valley instead of frolicking on the beach of my youth, but my family is here and the ground is white and we're warm and lucky to have each other. I hope your holiday was family and fun and fabulous, on that note, Mele Kalikimaka and a Hauli Makahiki Hou!

The Mood is Right! The Spirit's Up!

Coming Undone

I'm still in the throws of an uber gigantic project that screams at me every time I try to find a moment to myself. It's been about two months of eating and sleeping said project.




Here are a few of the million things that sit undone. They hide in the shadows and mock me.





I itch to attack them.



You'll see them here in anticipated done-ness here at She Sure is Sketchy in the OH-So-Wonderful-New-Year that is creeping closer, ever closer.

Pantone Finally Gets Down With It

Me: Hey Pantone, do you know what the best color ever is?

Pantone: The color you've been blog rocking since 2006?

Me: 'Bout time.
Welcome to the party!

The first time I fell in love, when I very first felt that twitterpated feeling I've been chasing my entire life, I realized that when I'm head over heels I feel the same way about the object of my affection as I do about water. Even before I knew I was going to fall madly in love with She Sure is Sketchy, I knew what color it needed to be....

1.© AHMED... 2. © vjhreeves 3.© floralgal, 4.© Sarah Schloo, 5. © marksternphoto,6.© ArtsySF

These photos are visual manifestation of what I think of when I think of the purest inspiration. I am always happiest when working in this color. It pulls me to my roots and takes me home.

Pantone's color for 2010 takes me to my happiest place.

This bodes well.