The Seven Deadly Sinners

Collaborative Efforts

My friends Denise and Chrissa used to come over to my studio on rainy Seattle afternoons and paint with me. We'd each start a painting and when someone said "stop", we'd have to switch paintings at that very moment and start working on whichever painting was handed to us. Wine and chocolate were always used to enhance the experience. We produced so many paintings this way that we developed a collaborative logo (see bottom right). Starting a painting and then giving up control by allowing another artist to paint over your work is a skill-enhancing experience and a good way to learn how to let go of attachments. Here's a small mixed media sketch created by the three of us.

The Face on the Wall

My bathroom wall is made of that cheap board that doesn't hold anything heavier than a postcard on a thumbtack. In the Time Before Me, someone tried attaching a towel hook onto the wall with unfortunate results. What's left is a ripped patch of paint and 3 holes, which I look at every morning when I get out of the shower.

And darned if the thing doesn't look back.

Don Knotts: 1924 - 2006

Away from the bright lights of the soundstage, away from the inquisitive eyes of the adoring fans, a young Don Knotts would indulge the part of him that was considerably less wholesome than Aunt Bea's apple pie or Opie's lemonade, wantonly careening head-first into a sordid netherworld of sin and debauchery so foul and corrupt that one's mind could scarcely begin to grapple with its stomach-turning intensity. Here Knotts would lose himself in the dark impulses and grotesque proclivities of a total sociopathic monster - a monster he was somehow able to keep chained up for years in a filthy, shadowy dungeon deep within the hidden recesses of his horribly mangled psyche. Only later in his searing portrayal of the demented, sex-crazed landlord Ralph Furley on "Three's Company" would audiences catch a frightening peek behind the facade.

EXTREME BLIZZZARD!!!

OK, I know this won't seem too impressive to those of you who reside in more frigid climes, but for us here in little old Seattle who don't see much severe winter action, it's always exciting to wake up to even a wee bit of something snow-like. Here are some pictures from around my building here a couple days ago. Wheeeee!

Shrunken Heads and FeeJee Mermaids

I was just over at BoingBoing and had to laugh; they've got a post up about Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, where I worked the first summer I lived in Seattle. I used to sell those goatskin shrunken heads, too, and did those things stink! A summer heated store, an old paper box full of shrunken heads; as I'd open it for a curious tourist the aroma would be overpowering.

Thing is, that was my first introduction to the Smell of Goat. So what did I know...months after I quit working there I went to a restaurant with friends, who ordered a delicious goat entree. None of them understood my complete refusal to eat something that smelled like shrunken heads.

A couple of days ago I posted on my own blog about YOCS; FeeJee mermaids this time. I found a site with amazing FeeJees, and then I dug a little deeper. Click, if you dare, on the "Studio Leftovers" button. If you've ever needed "1/2 dozen Skinned Squirrel Heads for $30", here's your link!

The Streets of San Francisco

I was walking down Market Street in San Francisco yesterday and saw a half naked man wearing an oversized pirate hat running toward me. I've learned to bring my camera everywhere I go in this city because one never knows what sort of human treasures one will come across. I got a photo as he ran by me and then whipped around and got a few more shots. His boxer shorts had a fake butt sewn onto them and a Bush/Cheney sticker was artfully placed near the "crack". He jumped up and down and hollered at passing cars so he made sure people noticed him. Funny thing is, most people just glanced at him and kept on walking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I only wish I had my camera with me a few days ago when I saw the Chicken Man. The Chicken Man is a tall fellow who wears a frilly dress and carries a HUGE sign stating that is a chicken. He clucks and gobbles when spoken to, and if he really wants to show off, he'll peck at things on the sidewalk.

The Red Ace of Spades

Once I saw a glorious beetle in the pages of National Geographic and so I drew it.

New From Borgco--

Ernest decides to follow in his wife Tovah's footsteps with his own product line - less pretty smelling, but in its own way, just as fiercely aromatic.

Still awaiting USDA approval (Ernest guards his "mystery ingredients" tenaciously), Borgnine Brand Chili promises to explode off the shelves, making Paul Newman look like the salad-munching pretty-boy he is. Some like it hot, some like it Borgnine!

The Problem no one talks about

This is why no one likes taking public transit in Calgary. There's a terrible Mammoth problem here, and NO ONE is doing anything about it.

Remembering Moondog, Approximately

Louis T. Hardin, better known as Moondog, stood for years on a frozen New York corner composing music and reciting poetry. Can you dig that crazy man? Beatnik sentry, in wool blankets, and a viking helmet?  Sleep on a grate, covered with headlines. He jammed with Charlie Parker, William Burroughs, cut a record with prissy Julie Andrews. Gone now, this Moondog. His icy legions, camped on either pole, are at their ease awaiting orders, when to start another icy squeeze. Real gone.