We have friends (hard to believe, I know, but it’s mostly The Missus’ fault – she’s too friendly), and among those friends are the Hughes family. Over the course of ten years, they have commissioned me to paint each of their three German Shepherds that have been part of their clan. This is the first, Junior. He had long ears, which I at first thought was a trick of the photos they gave me, but …
It’s Easter weekend, and I hope my Christian friends are celebrating in whatever way appeals to their notions of what it’s all about. I used to be one of you, but that ended about twenty years ago when I realized theistic believe didn’t make sense for me. Becoming an unbeliever (atheist, if you prefer) was my personal choice; I don’t expect anyone to do the same simply on my word. If belief works for you, …
I love repeat customers! This portrait is of Ginger, who belonged to the same owners as Bo. In this portrait, I really think I nailed the golden color of her fur. For some reason, I’ve struggled creating blonde and gold fur on these digital paintings. But this was the first where I felt confident all the way through without having to paint over weak areas. I think part of the recipe for success is not …
Bo was a singularly happy Bernese Mountain Dog. Well, that’s not entirely correct. Every Berner I’ve known has been, without exception, a super happy camper, so it’s hard to say “this one is the happiest”. And though I never met Bo in person, the photos supplied for this memorial portrait certainly gave the impression of a very happy dog. Possibly it’s the breed, or, more likely, the loving pet parents. Normally, I try to focus …
I’ve been spending a lot of time working on my graphite drawing skills. I’m still not quite where I want to be, but each drawing makes me just a little better… and a little wiser. I’m trying to be more bold with my edges. The drawings I see from other artists who give tonal shapes sharper edges always look so much better than murky fades. Attempting sharp edges doesn’t always work for me in the …
She was always the storyteller. She could make them up on command. Anytime. Anywhere. I remember one summer afternoon in 1968, we were waiting in the car while Mom was in the grocery store. It was warm and the windows were down, letting in a cool south Seattle breeze. “See that man right there?” she asked me. “The sweaty one with the blue shirt and the frown?” “Yeah,” I said. “He just came to the …
Too sick and tired for long-form blogging, so here are some angry shorts.
It’s been sixteen days since we were taken hostage. This is my secret note to the outside world. Hopefully someone will read it and spread the word of our plight. Though I have little hope for ourselves at this point, it may help others who find themselves in similar straits. Our captor is sleeping at the moment, and I have to be very careful as I’m typing not to make excessive noise, lest he wake …
A couple weeks from now we’ll have a new family member. We’re still missing Beorn a lot. Grieving. Personally, I’m a bit down and tired, with little interest in doing much of anything, though I’m starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Could be a freight train, I don’t know. The Missus and I often talked about what kind of dog we’d get when Beorn was gone. We both agreed it …
This is a very short story I wrote several years back. It seems appropriate to haul it out every time – in the words of a certain congress critter – “some people do something”.
