Art du Jour 6

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All that cutting and pasting I did as a kid finally makes sense.  This took mad skills.

Yeah, I’m kidding, but I like this so much I might actually hang it on a wall somewhere.

In other news, our hide-a-bed has gone to a new home.  Young guys with no furniture graciously accept hand outs and will happily haul things away for free.  Our garage is spacious again.  W went to a mandatory nutrition class yesterday so that he can be in top form health-wise for hip surgery in four or five months.  We had a lively discussion about nutritionists and Canada’s Food Guide and coconut oil.  I won every single argument.  And then I ate a fudge bar from the freezer to emphasize my point.  I think my point was moderation, but come on, it was last night, who can remember all the shit that gets said.

While he was off hearing from someone else that he should eat a lot more green vegetables, I did the grocery shopping.  Don’t you just hate it when a store layout is planned by people who have never actually shopped?  Lightbulbs should be closer to the toilet paper.  That was one of my brilliant conclusions and the other was that I hate shopping.

To reward myself for voluntarily ruining part of my afternoon for a good cause, I went to Michael’s on the way home and bought a new sketch book and some oil pastels, proving that I don’t hate ALL shopping after all.

Have a safe and happy Halloween and I’ll see you in November (a month in which I will be writing something quite possibly similar to this every single day!)  How’s that for scary?

Art du Jour 5

This looks a little like one of my granddaughters!

This looks a little like one of my granddaughters!

And this doesn't!

And this doesn’t!

Scrolling through art boards on Pinterest has become my new thing, thirty days into a successful retirement. Well, can you fail at retirement? I sincerely hope not. Although having the inspiration fairy whack me over the head at midnight is never a good thing. I’m working on a weird multi media composition which I hope to finish today and share tomorrow.

W wants to know if I expect to make money doing all these projects. All I care about at the moment is keeping my brain in gear with something other than spider solitaire.

And my pencils sharp.

Art du Jour 2

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I have a deep respect for anyone who can look at a face and draw it and end up with it looking like the face they’re looking at. My results always resemble distant relatives. If not complete strangers.  So I’ve learned to like surprises.

This morning the ground is covered in snow and it’s still falling in big fat white flakes.  A man with a black umbrella walks his little dog on the slushy sidewalk.  Our neighbour returns from his daily trip to Tim Hortons but he won’t be sipping his morning coffee on the deck today.  Kids on their way to school saunter by with snow on their backpacks and their hatless heads.  Tough northern teens too hardy and cool to care about frozen fingers and frost-bitten ears.  Who would not be caught dead with an umbrella.

Big plans for the day – fill up the bird feeders for the blue jays, finally go through my ancient paints and discard the ones that are old and dried up and useless.  Make a list of what needs to be replaced.  Pay some bills. Try not to die from all the excitement.  Stay warm.

Art du Jour 1

Perhaps the title should be “The Good The Bad and The Ugly”.  I am practicing drawing faces.  I gathered them all up, snapped pictures of my pictures, saved and edited them and turned them all sepia.  Because it’s a sepia kind of day.  Big fat snowflakes coming down out there.

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It’s been an interesting Sunday pursuit and I’m thinking a daily art project might be a good feature here.  For days when words fail me.  Anyway, if I do 365 of these, just imagine how good I’ll be in the 300’s!  I don’t know why everybody’s right eyeball is blurred.  Trick of the light, or the artist.

Happy Sunday.

 

What Are We Doing Again?

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These words are so simple, and yet….

I can’t get them out of my head.  What does this mean?  The phrase takes me all the way back to high school English and teachers who analyzed poetry in particular,  but also pretty much every other written thing, to death.  I admit I liked trying to impress them with my twisted take on things.  I expect a lot of authors would have been totally baffled by the garbage we came up with that they never meant at all.

Anyway, I want to know what you think.  Please take my poll.

There are no wrong answers.  Probably there are no right answers either.  Thank you class.  No going home for you until you finish this.  I will mail you your marks.