Thursday, May 19, 2022
country cousin
"Would you like a white mouse or a gray one?" I ask.
"A gray one!" she says, emphatically."I don't want a TAME one!"
Ahhhhhhh, a little wild mouse.
Makes me think of the story of the city mouse and his country cousin.
Sleeping under a leaf seems a given and for that matter so does a basket.
one down
I found a marvelous doily, circa poodle skirt era.
Oh those flowers!
Up-cycling to the resuce!
A few snips and I had gathered a bowl full.
One down, 43 to go.
Sunday, May 8, 2022
very
What does a very, very long bulletin board in the children's
section of the library need?
A very, very long
list of characters to fill it from one end to the other.
I started in the centre, cutting my characters from discarded book pages.
A knight on horseback.
A fearsome fire-breathing dragon.
A bridge to nowhere.
Then I added to the left and right, left and right until the
space was spanned.
A towering,
flag festooned fortress.
A wizard and
his wise owl.
A leaping wolf
and prancing unicorn.
Puss’n boots.
Mary Poppins
and Alladin’s carpet on a collision course with a crescent moon.
A prince and
princess.
These all
became a back story to the action up front.
Black
silhouettes of a cottage, dimly lit.
A maiden between a
mushroom and a gnome.
Peter Pan and
Wendy aloft.
The tortoise
and the hare.
A swan watching a mermaid dive and fish leap.
A dancing frog and fairies
three.
A reader (of course).
A trio of
children.
A maiden in a
tower.
A mysterious
mouse, and birds of every kind flying high and low and left and right
and up and down.
(The blue background paper had been around the block a
few times and there were signs galore of tape doing what tape does best.
The placement of more than a few characters helped to hide the past
life of what was now, blue sky)
Re-use, Re-think, Re-tape.
Saturday, February 19, 2022
great day for ducks
Whenever it rained, my father would declare, "It's a great day for ducks." Good to know isn't it, that someone is happily paddling about as the rain sluices down.
Downspouts gurgle and purcolate. Wet windows waver like antique glass, and a thousand tiny squares in the window screen hold water droplets: abstract art, cross-stitched in silver threads.
P.S. My mind seemed determined to paint a chick instead of a duckling and I had to scrub out a couple areas and things got a bit muddy and murky. Just like a duck pond?
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