It’s been a week, hasn’t it? Here are a couple starts.
Skeezer napping in the winter sunshine. I wish I had the original.
This is what my brush did. I held it vertically and painted my crazydance. Unfinished, I think. Vote!
Keeps me inside, so I’m painting on my iPad.
Finch, digital, Procreate
He would have been 74 today. Still not much easier to go on.
Just read it
That is the most commonly asked question. There is an alternate phrasing, usually posed to Ellen – how can you let him do this?
Her answer – do you think I could stop him?
And then there are those people who ask straight up if my wife thinks I am crazy, to which I reply, as does she, that this has been known for quite some time.
I’ve been talking about this trip forever. Any time Joe comes to visit or we see him for any reason references to the summer of ’78 come up. It was an opening up to the world for both of us. And as I’ve watched the world change in these many years, I’ve always wondered if it was still possible to take such a journey. This I know for sure – I couldn’t do it without such a supportive partner.
Ellen and I have…
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Happy day late you mothers.
I participated in a discussion on facebook recently about defining subgenres of speculative fiction, and the question of comic book superheroes came up. In practice, superheroes can draw from fantasy (X-men, Dr. Strange), science fiction (Iron Man), mythology (Thor, Wonder Woman), “realistic” (Batman–at least for the Batman character himself), or any number of other subgenres, but what they have in common is a fantasy of agency and justice, even when justice sometimes fails. This multi-focal genre has been adopted as speculative fiction by popular acclaim, regardless of the specific mechanism of the hero’s powers.
“La Gorda and the City of Silver” is clearly a superhero story. The world of masked and costumed luchadores is deeply rooted in the genre regardless of the apparent lack of overtly fantastic…
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I poured all of my cobalts blue , as well as phthalo turquoise, the only two-pigment mix in my pallet. There was a starters wash underneath. It’s a half sheet watercolor, with a few crayons, high flow acrylics and tears thrown in. This is dedicated to my late husband, James Michael Pensinger.
The shells are just weights.
Here are the dead paint tubes.
Wet, then dry
Then done. Flying fish. Watercolor on Legion paper. 10 x 7
I think I see flying fish
Here are a start and what I did to or with it.
I’d love some feedback. Watercolor, gouache, Inktense pencils on Fabriano cold press. Thanks for looking.
Today is gray, but color fell out of my brush yesterday. Here’s pour one:
Which way’s up? Jumbo Shrimp. About 14″ by 10″ mixed watermedia on Fabriano cold press paper.
On my easel a mixed watermedia piece. On Yupo,
One hundred smackers. Write me. Message.
About 12″ x 9″, watercolor and Inktense sticks on paper
With me. But I’m going to stick around.
On my easel: watercolor and inktense pencils on Arches block. (9×7)
I’m grateful for paint that runs Happy turkey day. Also that I have a place to live, a car and a great dog.
Work in progress. India ink marker (!) on damp watercolor block. Any thoughts on adding color?
Today we scattered ashes.
Recently I posted a painting and asked for advice. This is how it is now. Half sheet watercolor on paper. A fall wedding popped up to me. Love comments, criticism and more. I think it needs sharper images in the center.
And this is how it began
A few weeks and one spell of exhaustion ago I took a color clinic workshop with Nita Leland. Boy did I need the reminders. So here's the first watercolor start since then. All comments, ideas and critiques welcome.
Martha who still wants to be a painter if she grows up.
When I paint near Nita, I let loose. Selfie with cookie. SOLD woohoo!
The eyes have it, from my friend Jim MsKeever
On a downtown street in Lansing, Mich., a woman asked for our help. She was with her daughter, about 7 years old.
We could see in the woman’s eyes several things: warmth, strength, wariness. In the young girl’s, shyness. Perhaps fear.
The woman, about 30, wore a hijab. Her daughter had long, dark hair, uncovered.
There was a significant language barrier, but we managed to learn that they are from Syria and have been in the U.S. for seven months. They had walked from a nearby Catholic church, the woman said, to find Bus #5 to get to her appointment at a job-training agency.
She carried a folder with her. We walked, and I asked if there might be any information in it that could help us get them there.
As she pulled out a couple of forms from the job-training agency, I noticed a packet of penmanship worksheets, with…
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My love in the water