When I was a child my grandmother gave me the above plaque as a Christmas gift (yes, the colors are off and it has a distracting flash. I never was a very good photographer). I've often wondered who was the artist. There is no signature and no title. Not only am I a terrible photographer, I'm also a terrible detective, so I have no idea how to track down the information. If you know who the artist is, I'd be delighted if you'd tell me. Oh, the accompanying pencil sketch is merely my feeble attempt to copy the image.
Monday, May 21, 2018
Friday, April 20, 2018
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Since I couldn't think of anything to draw, I opened an old magazine for inspiration and chanced upon a photograph of an actor. Now, because I'm rarely successful in capturing likenesses, I thought I'd use his middle-aged features for reference to aid me in drawing an imaginary older person. I put the magazine away after roughing in the head, certain no one would ever suspect (or care) about my source. That's when Kathy walked by, said the face reminded her of someone and then amazed me by guessing the thespian (although, to be honest, it took her two tries). I was so surprised that I didn't even think to tell her she guessed correctly. In fact, I was so stunned that I quit working on the drawing, which is why the picture looks the way it does. I'm not so bedazzled with Kathy's keen detective abilities now, however, since she's been walking by as I type this and keeps guessing more and more people, most of whom I've never heard of. Still, it does make me wonder if anyone else could ever guess the model's identity.
Monday, January 1, 2018
The sun was beginning to set by the time I eluded my final pursuer. Having a moment to rest, I studied my surroundings. I had never been this far in the woods before. Some things ... or some thing... was moving in the overhead canopy, but the dying light and thick clumps of leaves kept the source of the rustling well hidden. Some distance to the left a full-throated basso choir of frogs commenced their evening performance. Dropping on the moss and resting my head against a dead sycamore, I thought, "So, water's close by and, in theory, the mosquitoes should be few. Not bad. I've slept in worse places." I then closed my eyes and fell instantly asleep.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
The above is an article written by Sarah that was published in the Beaver Creek Wetlands Association's "The Spotted Turtle," volume 3, number 4, Fall 2017. Yup, her mother and father are kind of proud of her.
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