. . . considered swine flu

(next to last wonky picture of painting)


I know one thing: if washing one's hands was 100% insurance against getting the swine flu (H1N1, whatever, swine is much more descriptive), artists would probably stay pretty healthy. I wash my hands about 180,000 times a day, just to get paint or glue or other gooey stuff off them. And I don't mean just run them under the faucet with lukewarm water. Oh, no, it's hot water, lots of soap, and a scrub brush. I used to have a big tub of some kind of soap along the lines of Lava, really abrasive, but worked pretty well. Of course, after a while the skin on my hands would slough off like snake skin, but they were clean.


The other factor that may save me (and perhaps other artists) from the dreaded swine flu is that I don't come into contact with a lot people down in my basement studio. In fact, no one. In fact, I could probably go for a long time without seeing anyone if I really tried. I sometimes worry about having some kind of crippling accident at home and not being found for days. But there is no one sneezing on me, or coughing on me, and whatever germs are in the studio have been there for a while.


My little ones, however, are human petri dishes. There is usually some sort of bodily fluid escaping from them somewhere. They are pretty cute when they sneeze or cough into their shoulders or upper arms. But I haven't decided whether to get the vaccination or not. How about you?

. . . posted 500 entries

Yeah, I saw that my last blog entry was the 500th. Wow. Seems like I should do something to celebrate, like give something away or quit while I'm ahead . . . I need some time to think about what to do . . . any suggestions?


Remember the "wonky" pictures I took before my paintings left the house? Here's another one. It's all crooked and crumbled up in the corners, but at least I have a record of it.


I'm working on some small "masterpieces" that I plan to try to sell on my etsy site. They will be cheap. . . ridiculously cheap. . . Some of them are studies for larger paintings, but I'm also recycling and reinventing some of the stuff I have had in the studio for a long time. That's as good a way of clearing out the space as any. Working with wood and power tools again is extremely gratifying. I will be able to try some collage and maybe even some encaustic on these pieces. The last time I tried etsy, I was so distracted by personal issues that I didn't do a very good job at all. This time, I'll be ready and organized. I promise.

. . . were keeping busy

but without much to show for the activity. Last week I had Joey at the house for a couple of days. He had a double ear infection, which seemed to clear up as soon as he got to my house. Although the days he spent with me were pretty rainy and dreary, they were warm and he played with his Barbie Jeep, we read stories, watched the Berenstain Bears on TV and generally just had a good time together.


Walter the Art Guy came on Friday and picked up all of my recent paintings. I hope he can peddle them, and soon. I hadn't taken photos of all the paintings, so I did that rather quickly before he left. So the next few photos on this blog will be sort of wonky.


Hope everyone has a fun, fruitful and art-filled week.

. . . showed an opposite

In opposition to the painting I showed in my last post, that came together so easily that it was guilt-inducing, this painting was a frustration from the very beginning. They were pretty much painted at the same time. I worked on this one, adding stuff, sanding stuff off, you all know the drill. Nothing was working. So, in a juvenile fit of pique, I placed a plastic sheet with leftover wet gesso on top of it and this is the result. The painting will probably not make the traveling team, but it certainly was informative. I do see some possibilities in this technique. And it is better now than it was before the gesso fit.

. . . quit while ahead

Have you ever had a painting come together so quickly that you almost felt guilty about it? That is what happened to me with this one. I guess it's because of my strict Catholic upbringing, because I can manage to feel guilty about almost anything. But this painting involved no suffering; it just happened and I quit while I was ahead.

. . . were irrationally nervous

about posting my art on my blog. . . yeah, even after all this time. My inner critic is not just whispering, it's screaming at me. And since most of my blog readers are accomplished and talented artists, I am squeamish about showing my work.



(this one is upside down)



Nevertheless, here are a couple of long but narrow pieces, loosely using the colors of the previous painting. My readers are getting everything I've painted, the good, the bad, the ugly, the ones I know just won't work. The ones that will eventually be painted over, and in the meantime will just take up space. You know that old saying, "even a stopped clock is right twice a day" . . . or "even a blind pig . . ." Well, maybe somewhere in here are one or two pieces that are actually okay.

. . . used the lines

from the photos I took a few weeks ago. . . the power lines. . . in this painting. This is really a lousy photo of this painting. The colors are off, and I can't seem to get them corrected. It's crooked, too, so the section of green/gray is cut off the top and the black area on the botom is askew. But you get the general idea. . .


Yesterday was a "Betsy Day". . . Steph took a day off to spend with just Betsy, no other kids, and they invited me to see a movie with them. We went to see "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." I loved the cityscapes in the backgrounds of the movie. And we went to a theater that featured lunch with the movie. . . what an inspired idea. And there were the only three people in the theater. Excellent.


I can't even remember the last time I went to a movie in a theater. I'm sure it was with the kids. Maybe "Toy Story." I do remember that as soon as the lights went down, I fell asleep. Every time. So the experience was really wasted on me. Oh, I do remember being so tired all the time when the kids were young.