My Hero & Heartbreak

Never mind that other silly face. This face captured me stone cold in the market the other day and I got such an immediate pang of loss and sadness that my eyes filled with tears and the checkout lady thought something was wrong. I showed her the cover as if that were enough explanation but I don't think she was old enough to get it. I think I will go and rent "A Hard Days Night". It's been a long, long time. John was my hero, my idol and ideal. We would both never grow up.

self portrait Tuesday

Since I'm not getting anything creative done except holiday gifts, here I am in all my finery - the infamous Bog Coat, which has no buttons and even if it did, I couldn't button it, the damn thing shrank somehow, and my hat, because I forgot it's in the mid-20's out and washed my hair and don't have time to dry it. All my wet hair is crammed up in there. Later when it drys and swells up like wet wool will, I will look like a Rastafarian toting serious dreadlocks. I'm off to the mines...

We Got Big Balls

Yes folks, that's a full sized house cat creeping about in the decorations that were supposed to have been hung (today) from the trees outside where the ghosts used to be. My decorating team was called out of town (you know I am kidding here) so instead, I disguised myself as a productive person and went into the studio. It's such a mess that the only thing I could do was grab flibberty gibbets from my little black bag and crouch over the sewing machine trying to block out the chaos all around me. This postcard thing is seriously infectious. Here is the fruit of a short afternoon:

More Giving Thanks

What no pictures? Nope, just me checking in and giving thanks. Just got back from retrieving my son Jake and his car from the scene of a thankfully minor traffic accident. His first and no one was hurt but his lovingly hand built Honda took a pretty bad hit. Repeat out loud "NO ONE WAS HURT". I also went back to work part time today. It's a small office with small office routines, good company and flexible hours. If I have to earn and income of some kind, it beats all hell out working for nothing at JoAnn's or someplace equally heinous. And of course, now that I have to meet someone else's schedule, I am beginning to feel a twinge of creativity. At least enough to go in and start looking at all the treasures I brought back with me from New York. What in the world does one do with real, good quality wool? At least I think it's wool. I'll barbeque some tomorrow to be sure.