February 17, 2012

Dirk Nowitzki, Pinterest, and bellybutton sweat

My bellybutton sweats when I get stressed. And not a cute, dewy kind of a sweat, but a full on soaks-through-my-shirt-and-starts-seeping-in-a-horizontal-line-where-my-stomach-creases kind of a sweat. Don't judge.

And the dumb thing? My stupid 18-year-old self did it to me when I got my bellybutton pierced in college. Apparently I never noticed the "may make you sweat in a 1-inch circle like a man" warning when I signed the death clause at the tattoo joint.

I also never noticed the "may hurt you when you gain 10 pounds and your stomach rolls in on itself when you sit, engulfing your entire bellybutton ring." But who cares when you're 18.

My other problem - directly related to bellybutton sweat - is that I get very stressed out when I do any sort of art.

And a little crazy.

For instance, I decided to make Rob a handmade freezer paper stenciled Dirk Nowitzki shirt for his birthday last year.

"I'll use this photo - this is going to be AWESOME!"

"Uhhhh...I guess a black stencil on a gray shirt wasn't the best idea. CRAP. I just wrecked Rob's favorite shirt. Oh shoot! What do I do? What do I do?? WHAT DO I DO???? WHATDOIDOWHATDOIDOWHATDOIDOWHATDOIDO ALSDKFJA;SLDKFJAL;SDLKFJA;LSLDKFJAS;LDKFJ." [aaaaaaand the bellybutton sweat begins]
 At this point in the creative process we enter "crazy."

"[insane laughter] I'm just going to paint right over it! hahahaha! [more insane laughter, accompanied by a big splotch of white paint right on Dirk's cheek] hahahahaha! TOO LATE NOW!!!!! [crazy painting and insane laughter] hahahaha! This is the worst shirt ever!!! hahahaha!" [and here I stop to shift my drenched shirt so I can soak up some more bellybutton sweat on a fresh area]

(I did redeem myself two months later by carving another stencil and creating a NON CRAZY Dirk.)

Now let's throw some Pinterest into the mix. So here's a photo I pinned months ago, with hopes of replicating in Jannika's room:

Ahhh, the dream of someday owning white furniture... That means no kids, no cats, no profuse-sweating-in-the-109-degree-Texas-heat Rob, however. But a girl can still dream.
Of course I'm too cheap to buy any pre-made stencil this photo was trying to sell, so I decide to freehand paint the image this past week, making some artistic adjustments as I went.

And things were pretty calm at this point, until I stopped to look at Jannika's rug, the inspiration for the whole room:
"Huh. The detail in this rug just doesn't jive with the simplicity of the tree. Oh CRAP. What should I do? What should I do? [and the bellybutton starts sweating] Whom can I skype? What should I do?? MOM!! I JUST PAINTED THE WORST MURAL EVER THAT DOESN'T MATCH THE ROOM!"
So I shaded the blossom circles.
And added leaves.
And repainted the entire trunk.
And went crazy again.
"[insane laughter] hahahahahaha! It's like the lovechild of a pug and a shagbark hickory! hahahahaha! I'm TOTALLY wrecking this!!!!! hahahahahahahaha!"
But when all was said and done (and I had wiped down my stomach and taken three ibuprofen)... I thought it was actually quite interesting. Take THAT Pinterest!

I'm going to pin this bad boy on Pinterest and see if I can beat my owl's record of one repin. (I appreciate you, Jodie Bailey, whoever you are.)

See that empty IKEA frame in the last photo? That will be filled with a butterfly sketch this weekend. Let the sweating commence.

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