The hazards of being an artist

I'm so honored that Moondog Treasures has chosen me as her featured artist of the week! Look for the link on the topic to the right titled "Other Places To Find Me" to check out her blog.

I've been taking a break from planning my next project to focus on using up scraps of paper to make mini journals. My paper organizer is so full I can't get it closed. I tend to hoard my supplies, which leads to a ridiculous accumulation of stuff that never gets used. I've been working on changing that about myself. What good does it do to have all these beautiful papers and supplies only to shut them away in a drawer and forget I have them? Use it!

With all the supplies I have, believe it or not, I do not own a Japanese screw punch. For you non-book binders out there, this is an essential tool! I have gotten away without one for this long, but have concluded it is time to invest in one, particularly after I stabbed myself with my awl a couple weeks ago.

My little "incidents", as I call them, are always so stupid in that they happen at the most unexpected moments. I'm always punching thru book board with the awl in a precarious manner and you would expect that I'd stab myself then. But no, I stab myself throwing away trash.

"What does an awl have to do with trash," you may ask. Absolutely nothing. I happened to have the awl in my hand, somehow fumbled it over the trashcan, jammed it into my palm and then flung it across the room when I drew my hand back in pain. Thankfully no one was behind me.

I washed the wound out but it was rather deep and I expect I didn't get it thoroughly cleansed. The next day my palm was tender and swollen with a red streak running toward my wrist. "Great, now it's infected," I told myself, as I tried to think of ways to avoid going to the doctor.

I really don't like taking antibiotics, and that's likely what a doctor would prescribe for this, so I tried alternative means of taking care of it myself. First I soaked it in warm salt water, then in Epsom salts before I went to bed that night. I kissed my boo-boo on behalf of my mother and said a little prayer. The next morning it was all better! Yeah! I've avoided the doctor once again (as I sit here coughing my head off...I may end up there yet).

Being an artist can be a hazardous occupation!