1182
acrylic on canvas 12x24"
XJR 14
another gem from Byrne-Brawn
this painting is available at
ijbemaa@gmail.com
Sunday 4 September 2016
Saturday 3 September 2016
Denny Hulme
1181
acrylic on canvas 18x24"
Denny Hulme
South African Grand Prix
Kyalami 1972
this painting is available at
Thursday 25 August 2016
Wednesday 24 August 2016
Tuesday 23 August 2016
Monday 22 August 2016
Sunday 21 August 2016
Saturday 20 August 2016
Friday 19 August 2016
Thursday 18 August 2016
Wednesday 17 August 2016
Tuesday 16 August 2016
Monday 15 August 2016
Funniest Animal Compilation in 2016
Funniest Animal Compilation in 2016 Visit My Home Page at: http://ift.tt/2bgTSiZ
Kompilasi Tingkah Laku Cewek di Tahun 2016 - Wajib tahan Tawa ea..
Kompilasi Tingkah Laku Cewek di Tahun 2016 - Wajib tahan Tawa ea.. Visit My Home Page Now : http://ift.tt/2bgTSiZ
Sunday 14 August 2016
Saturday 13 August 2016
Pasukan Gerak Jalan Paling Heboh Hanya menggunakan Rok Mini Cantik Pula hahaha
http://ift.tt/2bgTSiZ
Friday 12 August 2016
Wednesday 10 August 2016
Tuesday 2 August 2016
On living with a boy.
I bought my house shortly after turning 23. I lived alone for 5 and a half glorious years, which by the way, I recommend every girl does in her life.
Sure I had sleepovers, I had friends stay, I even had post-hospital stints where I stayed back at my parents for a few weeks. But all in all, for five sweet years, those two thousand square feet were my own.
I painted the walls wild colors. I bought a teal couch. I hung giant photos of palm trees, of me posing with koalas, of my friends and I laughing hysterically.
I broke shit. I fixed shit I broke. I you-tubed a lot, and consulted the google diary of home ownership more than an average person probably ever would (perks of owning a 1930s home, I guess.) And when I couldn't fix the shit I broke, I cried for a bit. Then I called my dad and he came and fixed it for me.
You don't really grasp the kind of freedom that comes with living alone until it's gone.
Gone are the days when I meticulously arranged my Tupperware, or I ran around with my pants around my ankles because the toilet paper needed refilled, or I stood on chairs to get the perfect angle of my homemade pizza for Instagram. Do you KNOW how weird it is for someone to walk in on you standing with the fridge wide open eating straight Parmesan cheese in your underwear on a Saturday morning?
On Memorial Day weekend, we said goodbye to Tate's bachelor pad in the heart of Indianapolis and moved him out to the suburbs. Being the type to always have something to look forward to, we (of course) fell in love with a house (also downtown) that same week, and if I remember correctly, had our offer accepted the day we were loading his eight--hundred pound dresser onto the trailer to go to the storage unit.
All of this to say that living with a boy is strange, strange territory. I'd like to think we're navigating it OK together. We've learned that I'm always right when it comes to taking the trash out, how to put away dishes, properly doing laundry, and so on and so forth. And I guess I've learned how to let him veg out watching four hours straight on the history of Irish Castles.
It is nice to have someone else to share doggy duties with, and my bed is a lot cozier now that I have a full-time snuggle buddy. I've enjoyed cooking for two, versus leaving myself with a mountain of leftovers. We've depleted my wine stock tenfold, and having the longest-running game of Rummy in history. We've managed to divvy out the chores pretty easily, and he makes me put away my clothes. Which I guess is a good thing, considering my closet hasn't 'thrown up' all over the bedroom floor in nearly 3 months now.
It still feels like this weird purgatory of having a boy living in MY space though. It's all MY furniture, my art, my routines and plans, my name on all the bills. And I can tell he feels like an extended visitor at times.
I think we're both in the same boat eagerly anticipating closing day (this Friday - eek!) on the new home. A fresh start for us to build a 'together' home.
Who knows, I may even let him have a say in how we organize the Tupperware in the new place?
Sure I had sleepovers, I had friends stay, I even had post-hospital stints where I stayed back at my parents for a few weeks. But all in all, for five sweet years, those two thousand square feet were my own.
I painted the walls wild colors. I bought a teal couch. I hung giant photos of palm trees, of me posing with koalas, of my friends and I laughing hysterically.
I broke shit. I fixed shit I broke. I you-tubed a lot, and consulted the google diary of home ownership more than an average person probably ever would (perks of owning a 1930s home, I guess.) And when I couldn't fix the shit I broke, I cried for a bit. Then I called my dad and he came and fixed it for me.
You don't really grasp the kind of freedom that comes with living alone until it's gone.
Gone are the days when I meticulously arranged my Tupperware, or I ran around with my pants around my ankles because the toilet paper needed refilled, or I stood on chairs to get the perfect angle of my homemade pizza for Instagram. Do you KNOW how weird it is for someone to walk in on you standing with the fridge wide open eating straight Parmesan cheese in your underwear on a Saturday morning?
On Memorial Day weekend, we said goodbye to Tate's bachelor pad in the heart of Indianapolis and moved him out to the suburbs. Being the type to always have something to look forward to, we (of course) fell in love with a house (also downtown) that same week, and if I remember correctly, had our offer accepted the day we were loading his eight--hundred pound dresser onto the trailer to go to the storage unit.
All of this to say that living with a boy is strange, strange territory. I'd like to think we're navigating it OK together. We've learned that I'm always right when it comes to taking the trash out, how to put away dishes, properly doing laundry, and so on and so forth. And I guess I've learned how to let him veg out watching four hours straight on the history of Irish Castles.
It is nice to have someone else to share doggy duties with, and my bed is a lot cozier now that I have a full-time snuggle buddy. I've enjoyed cooking for two, versus leaving myself with a mountain of leftovers. We've depleted my wine stock tenfold, and having the longest-running game of Rummy in history. We've managed to divvy out the chores pretty easily, and he makes me put away my clothes. Which I guess is a good thing, considering my closet hasn't 'thrown up' all over the bedroom floor in nearly 3 months now.
It still feels like this weird purgatory of having a boy living in MY space though. It's all MY furniture, my art, my routines and plans, my name on all the bills. And I can tell he feels like an extended visitor at times.
I think we're both in the same boat eagerly anticipating closing day (this Friday - eek!) on the new home. A fresh start for us to build a 'together' home.
Who knows, I may even let him have a say in how we organize the Tupperware in the new place?
Tuesday 12 July 2016
Tour de France 2016
acrylic on canvas 12x24"
sold
sorry fellow car nuts
i'm painting le tour for the next three weeks
painting every stage every day
hop over to
and join the fast colourful fun :)
Friday 1 July 2016
SOS.
I'm over here getting all panicky.
The builders told me the other day that the house is slated to be finished Friday. FRIDAY.
That's TODAY.
Suddenly the plan of 'waiting to put my house on the market until ours is finished' just sashayed up and biatch slapped me across the face. I woke up, after Lord knows what kind of dreams, in an absolute panic, POSITIVE that my house will never sell. That this was the worst idea ever. That we have a million things we should do to it before even listing it. That we missed the 'prime selling months' of Spring and early Summer. That it will sit on the market for months and months
Help.
SOS.
Drowning in anxiety over here.
Power of positivity, eh folks?
The builders told me the other day that the house is slated to be finished Friday. FRIDAY.
That's TODAY.
Suddenly the plan of 'waiting to put my house on the market until ours is finished' just sashayed up and biatch slapped me across the face. I woke up, after Lord knows what kind of dreams, in an absolute panic, POSITIVE that my house will never sell. That this was the worst idea ever. That we have a million things we should do to it before even listing it. That we missed the 'prime selling months' of Spring and early Summer. That it will sit on the market for months and months
Help.
SOS.
Drowning in anxiety over here.
Power of positivity, eh folks?
Wednesday 29 June 2016
Woodgrain tiles and industrial lights, be still my heart
(Note: While opinions are my own, this is a sponsored post, and may contain affiliate links)
The thing about buying a �fixer upper� that someone else is doing the fixing on� you�ve got to put a lot of trust into that fella.
Both Tate & I agreed, that since we were fans of the builders other homes in the area, we wouldn�t become those overbearing, nit-picky buyers who insist on choosing every single door know, window frame, and hardware accent.
That�s not to say a girl can�t dream though! Through this whole house-hunting process I�ve come to learn that, kitchens aside, one of the biggest �surprises� always ends up being the bathrooms.
Especially in flipped homes, they can range from traditional (think: penny tiles, porcelain claw foot tubs, etc) to super modern (floating vanities, bright chrome accessories, stark white finishes).
My tastes always fall within the traditional, boho styles. Tate's more of a modern, simplistic kind of guy. I won't indulge you on how many tiffs stemmed from a potential home's bathroom these past few months! I've spent a lot of time perusing the internet for mixes of our styles, and was pleasantly surprised when I came across all the great products offered by the online company, PlumbTile
I'm anxiously awaiting finding out what our new bathrooms will look like... in the mean time, join me for a little day-dream'y walk down what I'd love to see when they hand us the keys...
1) I absolutely adore this new style of wood-look tiles that are popping up. As a self-proclaimed "tile-hater" these have definitely changed my mind on the topic...
2) A sink that holds true to the antique style of the house, such as this one. Not to mention classic hardware to go with it!)
3) Minimalist accessories, such as this towel ring
4) A simple mirror, in an unexpected shape.
5) An industrial style light to add some edge to the space
6) A teak bathmat, for a little bit of nature.
I'd add some bright colored rugs and towels, a bold paint color on the walls, and a few plants to really complete the space.
What about your dream bath? What do you want to wake up to every morning?
sky waves
Remember me? That girl called Chelsea that would take photos and write things no one reads? Well, she's back! I mean, I'm back. Still getting back into the swing of things I guess.
After an unplanned break from blogging for over two months to focus on school work and getting my life back together, I'm here and more ready than I have ever been to put out fresh new content for you all.
Tonight, the sunset was pretty good. Just look at that divine sunshine diving under the cover of dark green leaves for another night until it greets us with wonderful warm rays tomorrow morning. Woah, poetic much? Even though the sky only glowed a gorgeous shade of red for approximately forty five seconds, I still managed to snap up some lil' shots in between cars driving home in peak hour traffic this Wednesday night. These photos have only gone through the basic stages of editing as I'm still wanting to get a proper photo editing program on my laptop...because, to be perfectly frank, the new version of Photos on Apple computers is really horrible and I can't stand the way it's like editing photos on my phone.
To the engineers of Apple all the way over in California: I want some professionalism here people not just some light and colour adjustments with a few filters thrown in for fun.
Alright, impromptu rant over. But thanks for sticking by my little space on the internet dedicated to my ramblings and beginner photography. Much appreciated.
Have a wonderful week and here's to many more blogging endeavours.
Chelsea x
Saturday 25 June 2016
Datsun 260Z
1180
acrylic on canvas 24x36"
sold
sold
Andrew Siddall
Dansport
Dansport
Datsun 260Z
East African Rally 2015
Thursday 23 June 2016
Monday 20 June 2016
On stalking, or networking.
Well, we did it. We bought a house. Just when all of my friends and family had taken to tuning me out for complaining, justonemoretime, about the insane housing market here in Indy, we stumbled upon one.
Stumbled probably isn't the right term. Stalked my way into one is probably more in line.
You all shouldn't have expected anything less than that from me though, let's be real.
Oh, and I should also mention the term "house" is being thrown around haphazardly here, as the lovely plot we promised a chunk of change for was actually minimally resembling a home when we agreed to it.
Exhibit A:
In complete truthfulness, those photos were actually a week after the papers were signed. There was even less progress, and even more mess when we fell in love with her.
Let me hit the rewind button first...
To that fateful date night in late February where the topic got brought up, and the 'why the hell not' got thrown around....
That first condo that had 4 offers the day after we went and saw it...
That house well fell in love with in early March, that was sold the night before we submitted our offer....
That next house we fell in love with in late March that was a slap in the face (as explained here)...
Those 482 other houses we saw....
The condo we fell in love with that had 8 offers the first day...
That time I wanted to say forget it, and live in my house in the suburbs for forever because I was over the whole rat race and couldn't help but assume OBVIOUSLY we weren't meant to live downtown for a reason.
Then I woke up, left my pity party, and did what any other girl would do. Started tracking down the builders who were flipping houses in the areas we liked.
And once I found one with a history of houses we both loved, I may have employed Facebook Messenger to do a little woo'ing and sniffing around to see what their upcoming projects were.
The houses they were doing were massive, and we weren't planning on producing enough offspring to fill 4 bedrooms anytime soon, so I waited, and touched base, and waited, and probably touched base a few too many times.
Then one fateful Tuesday morning, as Memorial Day weekend was crawling towards us, I heard that delightful ping on my Facebook (because who doesn't keep all social media avenues open whilst working... I thought that was the whole point of 2 monitors to begin with?)
An update on their two gargantuan houses... and then... scrolling... scrolling... what is this? A new project they were about to begin... in the same neighborhood as the first house we loved... 3 bedrooms... 2.5 bathrooms... the hearts in my eyes mimicked that overused iPhone emoji like never before.
Maybe I was jumping the gun a bit, but when you house-hunt in this market, any glimmer of hope gets you giddy.
Less than a week later, we had walked through the house twice, had a million conversations with the builder, had some life chats over Moscow Mules, and signed the papers making the house ours.
Contingent, of course, on the fact that it... well, gets finished. And finished well.
Tate thinks there are still too many things that could go wrong, and worries about it on the regular.
Me on the other hand, I pop by the job site every few days, chat it up with the latino workers, take a million photos of the "process" and email incessantly with the builder about what they're up to each day.
Regardless of my right-brained'ness and Tater's left-brained'ness... I think it's safe to say we're both elated to see our fixer-upper!
Stumbled probably isn't the right term. Stalked my way into one is probably more in line.
You all shouldn't have expected anything less than that from me though, let's be real.
Oh, and I should also mention the term "house" is being thrown around haphazardly here, as the lovely plot we promised a chunk of change for was actually minimally resembling a home when we agreed to it.
Exhibit A:
In complete truthfulness, those photos were actually a week after the papers were signed. There was even less progress, and even more mess when we fell in love with her.
Let me hit the rewind button first...
To that fateful date night in late February where the topic got brought up, and the 'why the hell not' got thrown around....
That first condo that had 4 offers the day after we went and saw it...
That house well fell in love with in early March, that was sold the night before we submitted our offer....
That next house we fell in love with in late March that was a slap in the face (as explained here)...
Those 482 other houses we saw....
The condo we fell in love with that had 8 offers the first day...
That time I wanted to say forget it, and live in my house in the suburbs for forever because I was over the whole rat race and couldn't help but assume OBVIOUSLY we weren't meant to live downtown for a reason.
Then I woke up, left my pity party, and did what any other girl would do. Started tracking down the builders who were flipping houses in the areas we liked.
And once I found one with a history of houses we both loved, I may have employed Facebook Messenger to do a little woo'ing and sniffing around to see what their upcoming projects were.
The houses they were doing were massive, and we weren't planning on producing enough offspring to fill 4 bedrooms anytime soon, so I waited, and touched base, and waited, and probably touched base a few too many times.
Then one fateful Tuesday morning, as Memorial Day weekend was crawling towards us, I heard that delightful ping on my Facebook (because who doesn't keep all social media avenues open whilst working... I thought that was the whole point of 2 monitors to begin with?)
An update on their two gargantuan houses... and then... scrolling... scrolling... what is this? A new project they were about to begin... in the same neighborhood as the first house we loved... 3 bedrooms... 2.5 bathrooms... the hearts in my eyes mimicked that overused iPhone emoji like never before.
Maybe I was jumping the gun a bit, but when you house-hunt in this market, any glimmer of hope gets you giddy.
Less than a week later, we had walked through the house twice, had a million conversations with the builder, had some life chats over Moscow Mules, and signed the papers making the house ours.
Contingent, of course, on the fact that it... well, gets finished. And finished well.
Tate thinks there are still too many things that could go wrong, and worries about it on the regular.
Me on the other hand, I pop by the job site every few days, chat it up with the latino workers, take a million photos of the "process" and email incessantly with the builder about what they're up to each day.
Regardless of my right-brained'ness and Tater's left-brained'ness... I think it's safe to say we're both elated to see our fixer-upper!
Wednesday 15 June 2016
Motorsports Hall of Fame of America
1178
my paintings will be on show on two beaches next week
Daytona Beach The Shores resort Spa Florida
Pendine Sands The Corron resort Spa Wales UK
here are the portraits
for the 28th annual induction
into the
Motorsports Hall of Fame of America
auctioned off for a good cause
cover of the program
all portraits are 12x12" acrylic on canvas board
Sunday 12 June 2016
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