I was digging in the studio closet the other day, and noticed that I had some old stretcher bars stashed there, so I pulled them out. It’s been awhile since I’ve stretched a canvas, and I’d forgotten how hard it is on my hands to do all that stapling. Ouch!
I didn’t get the back margins perfectly even, so the miter isn’t as nice as it could be. It’s tidy, though, and that’s what counts, right?
Now, on to gessoing.
I love Granny Smith apples. I used to buy them by the bagful, because one of my dogs liked them, too. Elliott would eat them whole, or, when I ate one, would sit patiently and wait for me to give him slices. Harriet’s not too keen on them, unfortunately, so I don’t buy them as often now. They were on sale, though, so I got a 3lb bag of them today. Even if I don’t eat them all before they’re past their prime, I can slice and dry them in the dehydrator. Or, who knows, maybe I’ll bake a pie?
Addendum: Teh Google says that the Granny Smith apple was not introduced to the US until 1972. I had no idea!
Alsotoo, I like them best sliced and sprinkled with a little bit of salt. It cuts the sourness very nicely. That’s how I learned to eat grapefruit and tomatoes, too.
This is just the first layer. It’s a little more army green than I’d intended, but it’ll eventually be mostly blue.
I hate working with paint thinner, but there is just no other way to get this sort of spidery wicking of the paint.
True story: In a rebellious fit of stupidity, I once tried to use a mixture of linseed oil and paint thinner. The drippy effect was pretty good, but apparently, I’d used too much linseed oil and too little thinner. When I went back to the studio the next day, the entire painting had slid off the canvas. Weird, huh?
There has been an obscene amount of stomping up and down the stairs this evening. I think the Stompy Girls might be moving out.
Yay!
That is all. As you were, comrades.
I had a long and varied list of things I needed to shop for, so I had to stop at three places. One of them was Target, where I ended up in line behind a young guy who was buying:
1. Two bottles of toilet bowl cleaner
2. One jumbo bag of beef jerky (teriyaki flavor)
3. One bottle of KY Intimate Lubricant
M’kaythen!
At the grocery store, the man behind me in line bought:
1. Five Michelina’s frozen mac-n-cheese dinners
2. Five single serving jars of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup
3. One box of granola cereal
4. One bag of pre-washed, chopped iceberg lettuce
5. One roll of Scott toilet tissue
All the above were stretched out neatly, in single file, in the dead center of the conveyor belt.
Also seen at the grocery store, a young woman picking through packages of meat with a produce bag over her hand. Part of me thinks that’s very clever, and another part of me thinks it’s overkill.
I also picked up cat food and dog food. Pandora eats a little bit of kibble, but mostly she’s on canned food. When she saw the two flats of cans sitting on the dining table, she immediately jumped up and installed herself atop them. She knew those were for her.
I promised art a couple of days ago, but obviously, I lied. And by the time I finished last night, it was way past my bedtime.
This one has another packing tape transfer (a phrenology model), but it’s even fainter than the last one I did. I like the way it turned out. Tape transfers are kind of hit-and-miss for me. Often, the image pulls completely away from the tape, no matter how careful I am or how well I burnish. Some folks recommend soaking the taped image for a few minutes, but that makes the problem even worse. I’ve settled on taping, burnishing the hell out of it, then using a baby wipe to remove the paper from the tape. I haven’t had 100% success with doing it that way, but close to that.
This is a totally adorable demo for making tape transfers. I love that it’s a young boy doing it. He uses clear contact paper, instead of packing tape, but the technique is the same.
collage (altered Polaroid, anatomical illustration, packing tape transfer, and fragment from antique curtain) with watercolor pencil, watersoluble crayon, and found poem in altered book
9 3/8 x 11 3/4 inches
The Automatons
(a found poem)
More valuable than anything else,
his own desire for becoming.
The work and the excellence,
The common instincts of humanity
regarded as the highest virtue
And in the duties of tradition and custom
A convert denied
that destiny ruled his life,
Rejected demands and expectations
To devote himself
to the obstacles that were within him.
Only those who dared
could claim their autonomy.
I got my W2s this week, so I thought I’d be clever and file my taxes ASAP. Federal is fine. I’m getting $900 back, which is earmarked for car repairs and a couple of toys I’ve been wanting and/or needing.
State taxes? Oh boy! I used I-file, because it’s free, and I used it last year without any problems. When I got to the end of my worksheet, though, it said I owed $1100. Aieee! I’m not sure how that can be possible. I got a couple hundred dollars back last year. Of course, I move, too, and to a county where taxes are higher. I expected taxes to be slightly higher, but not that much. And, I expected some of the difference to be offset by the fact that my rent has gone up significantly, and I always file for renter’s deduction.
I just can’t imagine how my state taxes can have risen by $1300. I mean, my county tax withholding was only $340 and state only $897. There’s something seriously, seriously wrong with this picture.
Obviously, I am going to redo my form, as soon as their stupid software resets and will allow me to start over.
Grrrrr!
EDIT: Whew! I think the problem must be with I-File’s software. It was caught in a stupid loop, in which it wouldn’t let me delete or return to my worksheet. I went to the service I used for my federal return, paid the $29 to file state, and am getting $230 back. That’s much, much, much better than owing $1100!
I win!!!!
This one was taken by candlelight, which is why it’s underlit. I put an old lace curtain panel over the mirror behind her, to soften it. She’s a little dirty and the pigment has worn off her in patches, because she spent years outside.
This one is a little different from yesterday’s. The colors are cooler, and I used more flash. The downside of that is that there is a shadow in the lower left corner, but the fun side effect is that the tiny little hairs on the blooms sparkle like glitter. They look like they’ve been dusted with flecks of mica.
The Automatons
(a found poem)
More valuable than anything else,
his own desire for becoming.
The work and the excellence,
The common instincts of humanity
regarded as the highest virtue
And in the duties of tradition and custom
A convert denied
that destiny ruled his life,
Rejected demands and expectations
To devote himself
to the obstacles that were within him.
Only those who dared
could claim their autonomy.
red paper boat 