The Musings of Molly

A blog primarily chronicling the artistic and writerly endeavors of a girl who moves with the change in wind patterns, and is always trying to puzzle out, and explore the life given.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Side note...

I know this blog is primarily suppose to be about my art but with fourteen days remaining till my existences changes, I have to share that I have finally made it to the bookstore to pick up some important books. Luckily for me, I have a friend who has had labradors before who has become my "Lab Lady" or "Lab Resource" because it's always comforting to have a go-to person that might know what you're going through introducing a little labrador into your life. Granted, I have had the gift of bringing one labrador up to some extent--at least was privy to the early days of potty training and whatnot, but I feel secure in having a wiser person to have my back. Upon a nice long email, with tips and trips, discoveries, and wish-I-discovered... I picked up two of the recommended books. Then a friend of mine who has a dog loaned me her Dog Training for Dummies to so all and all I'm pretty well stocked up with my reading materials.

I also put the invite out there to see if I could go visit my little fellow next week on my day off. I figure it might be nice for him to have another opportunity to meet me before we hang out for the rest of our lives together (okay I'll probably out live him, but he can hang around in spirit). So I'll see what my breeder says and if so, get my driving feet on and loop my fine self out to the Kentucky country.

Truthfully, half of my reason for wanting to go is also just to play with him a little bit more grown upish. Also so I can bring him his blanket and have it smell like his mum and siblings a bit too so he can have that scent around when he comes back with me. Luckily for him, his sister will only live twenty minutes away and maybe the family that picks her up will keep in touch with us.

There's a lot of responsibility in getting a dog, lots to read, lots of opinions to absorb. I figure it must be kind of like raising kids. Half of it you over prepare for and the majority you fly by the seat of your pants and hope for the best.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Swim Lessons

And tonight's study... a continuation of the story. Again, not sure where I'm going with this but it's a good practice of discipline for me so I am going to try my very best to keep this up. Granted I spent the first hour looking up furniture on craigslist, and mattress factories (I need to replace my air mattress before Orion arrives) and I aquired a truck loan for Monday but all my furniture pick-ups have fallen through so I have the muscles (thanks to my neighbor) and a set of wheels. I suppose it focused me for art, or let me have my minor pout time where I didn't want to sit down to work after a day of work.

Here it is:

Wednesday, January 19, 2011


I'm going to try to do a sketch in a story sequence every two or three days. With that said, here's the first. I'm just playing around with an idea of a dino that has to learn how to swim for some reason. I'm not sure where it's going or what I want to do with this story but I was sketching and had a fun light dino pop out so I'm just running with it to practice thinking like an illustrator again.

Part one:

Monday, January 17, 2011

Worst Painting Ever

Women are suppose to have good intution. We get feelings, senses, and those who are in-tuned, often can use these senses to guide oneself. I typically have a good color sense. I feel if something works or doesn't work--however, today, my color sense was overcast. Grey and foggy. Consequently I did the worst work ever and ended up just scrapping it to finger paint over it.

Sunday, January 16, 2011


Name choosing. Native Americans wait for an appropriate moment to determine a child's name. Parents flip through books. Writers dig through their memory. "If you choose a name, the dog that fits that name will come to you," a friend once said. I thought about it for awhile and landed on Orion. Orion, the hunter of the night sky, the three stars in a line that I could spot no matter where I was geographically, or spiritually. I have fond memories of feeling grounded as my breath curled in smoke up into the night sky as I walked in from my car, or standing on the front porch on my way to the bus stop. In San Francisco, in New Hampshire, Indiana, Connecticut, Ireland, Scotland, Ohio.. three stripes across the night sky. "Hello Orion," I would say up to the night sky. My older sister has a sequence of three diagonal freckles across her face and I use to call them her Orion's belt--whether or not she appreciated this is unknown, but since we didn't appreciate ourselves at all during much of our lives, I would assume not.

So Orion it has been for my unknown puppy. I looked through newspaper ads, rescue sights, breeders you name it. As noted from the previous post I have found my Orion pup. "Choose the name..." and Orion, son of a lovely white lab named Skye, is aptly chosen. I smiled thinking of his mother's name. Then I began researching the story of Orion--the Greek myths, and was amused to discover his connection to Greek mythology when his father's name is Achilles--another Greek figure.

Things happen for a reason. I think this is going to be a great adventure.

Monday, January 10, 2011

My soon to be Best Pal

This is going to be my new buddy. I visited him for the first time today at his farm out in Kentucky. As his eyes are not yet open, I'm just hoping he'll remember my smell. When I set him back down his mom sniffed at him the most so I figure I must've left some kind of scent on him. He was all snuggly though--I like to think it was us bonding, but as he was sleeping under a heat lamp, it's more likely he was just trying to stay warm. I can appreciate that too. So I talked to his mom and told her to take good care of him and said I would do the same. I talked with his dad, who was much more interested in just the fact a human was hanging out with him and his six other pals than in my promises of good care. Then I spoke with a bulldog, named Bella, who was going through a rough emotional time as she had a c-section and lost her only pup. I told her I was sorry and petted her velvet head.

All and all, a good day.

I'm now debating about the spelling of Orion's name. Orion or Orien. The trouble with Orion is my brain says, "Onion". I don't want to think my dog is an onion. (He looks like a potato presently but that'll change). Orien however says, "O'Brien" in my head and I'm reminded of my fifth grade boyfriend. Tough things to contemplate.

:) He comes home early February. I just realized February is spelled with two "r's". I pronounce it Feb-u-ary. Not, Feb Brew Airy. Weird. Anyways, Feb it is, and then it's he and I--in it for the long haul.

Monday, January 3, 2011


I began this piece for a friend of mine--her birthday was ages ago but that always seems to be the case with paintings I owe people (unless I'm on commission) but I wanted to play with exotic colors, or a totally unrealistic color palette and as I've been having fun with clouds as of late, I gave that a whirl too. So in whole you'll see my mini sketch and my base layer of paint. I'm slightly irritated with myself though because I did not instantly clean out my brushes (thinking I was going to go to Dunkin's then come back and resume working; only to have become sick from pizza and needing to go to bed because I felt bad) so I didn't get to the brushes until late last night and I'm afraid in my negligence I have lost the fan brush to the great beyond. Frustrating. I love that fan brush.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Birthday Mornings

I am awake before the rest of the world, having cheated last night and conked out around 10:30. Normally I would say one shouldn't spend her birthday alone, but I have the biggest smile on my face. I woke up, dug around for my phone, that was going off all night with the ball dropping, friends texting or calling (I vaguely recall talking to my friend Samantha who was also born on New Years) and found it full of happy wishes, and voicemails that just made me feel warm inside. Even my older sister who despises that I insist on a British voicemail called, "Hi, just to show you how much I love you, I'm leaving you a message on this ridiculous voicemail. Happy New Year and Happy Birthday. Oh, and your House Boy says the same." I hear hollering from her father-in-law in the back ground. A friend from work, who has a great sense of humor, but I am only just getting to know, "Happy birthday; try to not get too caffeinated tomorrow on your Dunkins." And so on.

So as I roll out of bed, down the hall to the kitchen, I smile as I pull a cup out of Maggie's gift to me, to make a small cup of coffee for the morning present openings. And while a friend of mine is no longer around, it still makes me smile of old times with that pal, where she would have her small cup of coffee in the morning just as I was doing. Plodding down the hall with my gifts and cards--that I was so good not to open ahead of time... I plunk down on my bed and started opening cards, and gifts and it just made me feel like I had all those friends with me. What a nice way to wake up in the morning with your friends thoughtfulness and caring. Each gift and each card made me smile and I certainly do not feel alone on this new year day.