Friday, April 30, 2010

Nazi Piranhas Will Kill Us All!



Men Today gave us something new to worry about in February of 1963 -- Nazi piranhas!

And you should see the illustrations on the insides of these kinds of publications. Wow. It just keeps going....

And the covers. You should see the covers. Oh my!

Who was buying this stuff?
.

Chickens and Unintentional Consequences



Underneath every bird's feathers lies the quickening heart of a velociraptor.

And sometimes it shows. As the Associated Press reports:


As more states move to ban restrictive livestock cages, the campaign to free egg-laying hens from cramped cages and shift them to pens animal rights advocates call more humane could be poised to unintentionally boost deaths among those birds.

Researchers say decades of breeding to make the white leghorn hens that lay most of the nation's eggs more productive have also boosted the birds' territorial instincts, making them prone to pecking attacks so fierce they're often called "cannibalism."

Scientists and egg producers warn that deadly skirmishes that start with feather-plucking and turn into bloody frenzies when a bird's pecking breaks a flockmate's skin will increase if those same aggressive hens are moved from small cages with five to 10 birds to open pens that can hold dozens.

Animal rights groups want those pens to replace the small "battery cages" they call cruel because hens are so confined they can't even spread their wings.

Seven states have passed laws that will eventually ban or limit different types of livestock cages. Two of those states — California and Michigan — have passed laws that will eventually ban battery cages for chickens, as has the European Union.


The fact that chickens are vicious little bastards is not exactly news.

Cock fights are predicated on the idea, and yes they still occur the world over, whether in a ring and watched by betting men, or unseen in the gloaming light of the chicken coop.



And, of course, chicken cannibalism has always been with us.

The above ad is from 1939, and is trying to cure the problem by fitting chickens with little spectacles to block their vision when they raise their heads. The glasses were held in place by pushing a metal pin through the chicken's beak.

Of course these spectacles were rejected, as was the idea of keeping massive numbers of egg layers in "free range" houses where cannibalism was highest and where eggs were soiled, spoiled and smashed.

Instead, we went to individual cages, with a small number of birds in each cage, not because this was cheap or in a desire to be cruel, but because when raising 200,000 egg-layers, an investment in cages prevents chickens from being cruel to each other.

Of course, all of this massive chicken-and-egg production is predicated by a simple fact: We no longer live in the age of schooners and candles.

While backyard chickens may work for some, they do not work for most and never will.

Here's a fact: 70 percent of all Americans -- 210 million people out of America's population of 300 million -- actually live in urban areas which comprise just 2% of America's land mass, and 60 million Americans live in our core central cities.

And guess what? Backyard chickens are generally prohibited in those areas and not without reason. People don't pick up after their dogs; you think they are going to pick up after their chickens? You think chicken shit, chicken feed and chicks don't attract rats by the barrel? I assure you they do. So, yes, backyard chickens can work for some (generally folks who treat their birds as pets and who never actually take one to the pot for food), but they will never work for most Americans.

Meanwhile, out in forest and field, far from farm theory, it is the cruel season, as fox predate turkey chicks, goose nests are decimated by flood, fox kits are buried under the plow, rabbit scrapes are torn apart by bushhogs, and hawks pluck small birds while still alive to feed to their always-hungry chicks.

In Asia, where the wild chicken, called the jungle fowl, still roams, more than 65% die before they reach the age of three months.

Life is short and harsh, and rarely idyllic outside of the parameters of a farm yard.

Of course this is as it has always been. Chickens lay a lot of eggs for a reason -- they are supposed to die by the trainload, and yes most of those short lives are supposed to be miserable (i.e. death at an early age from disease, flood, weather, and predation).

This is not a matter of opinion, but of fact. Food chains exist for a reason, and so too do rates of reproduction, which are the response to the Call of the Wild.

If you know the fertility rate of an animal, you also know a lot about its mortality, and the relative "value" that Mother Nature places on any one of its lives. A whale or an elephant then, is more important than a human (and generally has a less miserable life), and so it goes down the chain to cow, chicken, and stink bug.

The job of a chicken, then, is not to be happy, but to be a self-sustaining food source for other animals. That is the purpose of the chicken and why it was put on earth.

And on that score, they are doing very well. In fact, they are doing grand.

Is there any animal in America that is more common than the chicken?

From a purely Darwinian point of view, they have been a great success. Not only have they taught man to house, feed and water them, but they have taught man to police their coops to mitigate chicken-on-chicken violence.

And when death does come (and it must), the death is as swift and as pain-free as possible.

Only a human would consider this failure. A chicken, I suspect, does not.

But don't take my word for it -- go to a commercial chicken house and open the door, and see how many chickens rush outside. Not a one, I will bet.

A chicken may be bird-brained, but they know where their bread and water is, and they know the value of staying with the flock, and they know the value of a roof in a world full of hawks.

The Mother Load


The exciting life of a pair of
hungry bees captured forever.
Acrylic on 5x7 panel board.
This painting is for sale.

Are You An Old School Dog Trainer?



Folks have been arguing about dog training forever!

Consider this: In that classic of antiquity, "Roman Farm Management: The Treatises of Cato and Varro" we find Marcus Terentius Varro's observation that sheep dogs are often loyal to shepherds despite the fact that few shepherds of the era (50 A.D.) were bothering to follow the sage advice of Hostilius Saserna, given in 49 B.C.:

"Whoever wishes to be followed by a dog should throw him a cooked frog."

Click and treat ... or not?

No matter.

Either way, we have a modern T-shirt just for you!

Either way you are an Old School Dog Trainer.

Say it loud and say it proud.

The front of our white ringer T-shirt, baseball jersey, and hooded sweat shirt says "Old School Dog Trainer," while the back has a fine line drawing of a frog, and the Hostilius Saserna quote from 49 B.C.




Perfect!

44 ORDER YOURS TODAY.

And order one for your dog too! Our markup is ZERO percent.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Free Willy

When I sense my strength coming back and my body coming close to peace again it is an overwhelming feeling. Chemo can have the power to make you feel like you're no longer human, but it also gives you the chance to realize what it is to feel human ... to feel alive. Today the sumo weight is lifted and my heart and chest are so full with happiness and warmth. My white blood cell count is now 22.5, double the high end of normal (10.1) after being just 0.6 on Sunday. I've hit yet another tipping point. I am absolutely certain that I've bounced back from this – in shock and awe, but certain.

Craig and I went out to dinner last night. It was the first time I had been out of the house for anything other than a trip to the cancer center or hospital. I felt like I was a zoo animal that had been held captive and was now being released back into "society" to mingle with my species. We sat in the tavern/bar area – our usual choice seeking a less stuffy atmosphere. I felt like everyone was looking at me and I kept staring at them, marveling at how many business men and women were huddled at the bar clutching their frosted beer glasses or delicate wine goblet stems, gossiping over office blunders. I stared at an older couple leaning in toward each other sharing calamari and field greens salad flirting with not a care in the world. There was so much laughing, chatter, air kisses, glass clinking, waiters bustling around. It struck me that despite how my last two weeks seemed to me like a painful, hellish eternity focused solely on my body's demise, the rest of the world hadn't stopped turning. People have still been going to happy hour, enjoying wood-fired stone pies, getting close in the dark corners of taverns. There is so much happening outside of my little cancer world. When the cancer and its treatment becomes so all-consuming it can be easy to forget that – and even worse, to forget that you're still a part of that greater world – cancer or no cancer.

For me, it was so reassuring to know that all the things I love about life are still happening and will still be there for me – with plenty of new things to try – when I get better. Just because I hit a wall doesn't mean everyone else doesn't keep moving forward. Being reintroduced to society also takes the pressure off. Sometimes you can feel like the whole weight of the world is on your shoulders with pressure to get through the tough times, that fighting cancer is the most important thing on all the Earth. But that is far from the truth. My little battle is just a tiny droplet in the big bucket of battles that every single person on the planet is battling within and for themselves and together as a whole.

Today I drove my car for the first time in a couple of weeks. I love driving my stick with the sunroof open. It's freeing and exhilarating to not be carted around in the passenger seat. I stopped to get gas and the woman on the pump opposite mine kept grunting and would get in and out of her car while she did her transactions. Swipe her credit card, back in the car. Pick the type of gas, back in the car. And she sat in there with such an angry scowl glaring at the pump for not working fast enough for her. She gets out again to pull the nozzle out of her car and says out loud, seemingly to the heavens: "It is soooooo windy out! Ugh! This is awful!" in the most sincere angry tone I've heard in a long time then got back in her car and slammed the door, seething.

Mind you, it is a beautiful day. The sky is a Crayola sky blue with just a few cotton ball clouds and it's close to 70 degrees. In April. In New England. All I could think to myself was 'wow.' Yes, it was very windy, a warm, embracing spring wind. But was that something to be so angry about? Maybe it was because I had just sprung captivity, but I have been relishing in this weather all day. At least I don't have it that bad, , so bad that something like wind whipping my hair (which she should be grateful she even has) could upset me to that degree, I thought as I watched this seemingly crazed woman. I wonder what she would do if I came at her with a needle to stick in a catheter in her chest to draw viles of blood ... the very thing that I had just come from doing for the third time this week. Being pulled from society has helped me to now see how wrapped up we can all get in things that don't matter in the least. Having gotten so close to having nothing so many times now I'm glad that I can have that clarity and know that the good things in life far, far outweigh life's inevitable little inconveniences. I think I've always had my priorities straight, but this experience has solidified their ranking tenfold.

Filming on "The Foxhounds" Begins



From The Wrap:

Production has started on a new documentary focused on Harry Markopolos, who warned about the Bernie Madoff fraud a decade before his Ponzi scheme came to light.

Entitled "Foxhounds," the film is based on Markopolos' bestselling memoir "No One Would Listen: A True Financial Thriller."

As an independent financial fraud analyst, Markopolos repeatedly warned the Securities and Exchange Commission about Madoff's practices only to have them turn a deaf ear.


Yes, the book just came out, and it's already being made into a movie. And no, Brad Pitt will not be playing me, but thanks for asking!

Morning Sunflower


Morning Sunflower stands out as
another lovely garden flower being
explored by a bee in flight.
Acrylic on 5x7 panel board.
This painting is for sale.

Will Crufts Lose Its Discount Sofa Sponsor?



The Crufts dog show is like an old couch kicked to the curb and left out in the rain: a broken down thing that looks bad, smells worse, and is now looking for a place to die in peace.

The problems started a long time ago, of course, back when it was the Allied Terrier Show.

Perhaps a clear warning was that it was always a commercial venture. Charles Crufts himself, believe it or not, never even owned a dog.

Crufts has always celebrated the bizarre and contrived; dogs with pushed in faces, bug eyes, and coats so long and thick they satisfy the pent up needs of even the most frustrated of wannabe hair dressers.

And of course, work was never celebrated, and inbreeding was not only encouraged, but required in breed after breed.

How could anything but disaster come from this?

Everyone saw it, but it was not until Pedigree Dogs Exposed put it on tape and explained it, that the consciousness of consumers was properly shocked.

In rapid succession, companies pulled out of Crufts, not the least of which was the BBC and Pedigree dog food.

Who wanted their products identified with animal abuse, defect, disease and deformity?

No one!

Finally, the Kennel Club found Graham Kirkham, a wealthy breeder of Dalmatians (a breed famous for deafness and a uric acid disorder that requires some dogs to have a hole drilled into the base of their penis).

Kirkham had a company that sold discount furniture, and in exchange for Crufts adding a couch to its logo (no, we are not making this up), he agreed to have his corporation underwrite the Crufts fiasco show.

Now, however, Dog World reports:


THE FUTURE of DFS’ sponsorship of Crufts may be in doubt following owner and chairman Lord Kirkham’s decision to sell the Yorkshire-based company.

Kennel Club member and Dalmatian owner Graham Kirkham is believed to have pocketed about £300m from the sale to private equity firm Advent International.

DFS sponsored this year’s Crufts and told DOG WORLD at the time that the arrangement between the company and the Kennel Club was based on an informal arrangement with no contractual commitment.


DFS's contractual support for Crufts is assured through 2011, but after that, things are adrift.

Who wants to pick up this dirty, damaged and smelly couch and make it the center piece of their living room? Anyone? Time will tell.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Another full day in the studio

For many many years I have practiced listening to and following my intuition....if I have a "sense" or thought about a certain direction, I don't question it. This means that my creative path takes me places that I never would have followed if I had put thought into it. And often, as in this case, a lot of the detail gets hidden in newly inspired layers. The french journal pages and the Reiki blessing symbols are barely seen now, but I like the mystery that this adds to the piece. You are required to spend some time looking in order to see what is there.

Today, since I had grout left over from grouting 3 new Reiki paintings I took the grout and applied it on her head piece and in areas on her gourd body. Then I mixed up some paints and did a thin wash of color over those areas....adding purple, plum, blue and grey washes. I then worked on her arms, covering them in antique blue silk velvet and attached them to her torso. Then I added some cool metal leaves around the edge of the gourd.
I'm rather exhausted...but in a very satisfying and spent way.







Lessons Learned









As I was trying to teach my 5 year old grand daughter to paint I realized
what a tremendous challenge it is sometimes to be able to convey a
thought or instruction to someone else, especially if that someone
else is 5. This picture was just thrown in for the fun of it.
First I paint mostly in acrylic. I love this medium because of it's fast drying time
and easy cleanup. I have found a few things which make painting easier, some of which I have learned from other artist along the way. As with any thing in our lives we learn from doing. I have been painting daily for almost a year. As I look back to past paintings I can tell the progression of my success. I felt that to post these few tips may just be helpful to those out there who are looking to improve. I know that I have certainly searched the Internet and other resources for all of the information I could glean. So enough rambling here is a small list of valuable things I have learned.

1. Never give up
2. Search Artist sites, Art blogs, And Art, Art, Art.
3. Study other artist paintings, notice shadow and light, value and chroma.
Define what it is in a painting which appeals to you.
4. Ask for critiques from other artist and put your feelings aside. Listen and
realize you can paint a better composition by allowing someone else who sees
things you may be missing to help point out areas of improvement.

5. Study the golden mean.
6. Take the time to do a value study when you first arrange your palette before
starting a painting.

7. Try to set aside an hour or two several times a week to paint.

8. Join art challenges as often as possible even when you think you are
not good enough. Some I have found very helpful and fun are as follows


9. When using acrylic paint invest in artist grade paints. I prefer heavy body.

10. I use an atomizer to finely mist my paints while painting in order to prevent
them from drying out.

11. I prefer a glass panel for a palette. The one I use is approx 11x14. I place it
standing on my easel when painting small works when possible. I secure it
by placing foam board behind and extending out to stabilize the glass. Clips
can be used.

12. I keep two jars of water. The first is a quart jar with a plastic dish washing
disc in the bottom for gently cleaning brushes and the second to rest my
brushes in while painting. This is extremely important in keeping your
brushes in good shape. Only put approx 1-1.5 inches of water in the 2nd jar
so the silver ferrel will be above the water level. This keeps the brushes from
becoming loose and wobbly.

13. Finally when ready to store my paints I simply give them a final mist. I
place a small cut wet sponge in the Mastersons wet palette box. I place
the glass palette inside and seal. This will keep for several days. Wash
the box occasionally to prevent mold from occurring.

14. Last but not least I use a razor blade type paint scraper to clean the glass.
A wipe with a wet paper towel and your ready to paint another masterpiece.

British Conservationists Wear Red Coats


Two predators cast an eye on each other.

The Daily Telegraph reports on a new publication with a forward by Sir David Attenborough:

It has been called the "Domesday book of British wildlife" - a new publication, compiled by 40 of Britain's leading scientists, provides a complete picture of the state of the country's wild animals and plants.

The book, called Silent Summer, makes for some grim reading. Farmland birds, brown hares, water voles and many butterflies and other insects are in decline because of changing farming practices and loss of habitat, it says.

There are, however, some success stories. The otter, which between 1957 and the Seventies disappeared from 94 per cent of its habitats, is now back at more than a third of those sites, thanks to a special conservation programme.

... [C]ontroversially, the book credits field sports with helping to conserve several species, saying activities like hunting and shooting are "almost universally good" for the hunted species and many other species living in the same habitats.

The 600-page book was written by a team of experts and edited by Professor Emeritus Norman Maclean, of Southampton University's School of Biological Sciences, and a leading UK authority on fish genetics and genomics.

The book records how some farmland birds, including the skylark, have seen their population fall by more than half in recent decades. Farmland birds are a key government barometer for measuring the countryside's health.

.... The book highlights the importance of field sports to the wellbeing of wildlife. Robin Sharp, Chair Emeritus of the International Union for Conservation of Nature, says that "field sports ... have been almost universally good for the hunted species and the non-hunted, non-predators that thrive in the same habitat".

Prof Sharp praises foxhunting and reveals that 86 per cent of woodland managed for hunting had vegetation cover – important for other species – compared with just 64 per cent in unmanaged woodland.

Managed areas also had an average of four more plant species, greater plant diversity and more butterfly species than unmanaged areas.

Prof Sharp also reports on a study of three areas in central England which found that all owners of land used for hunting and shooting had planted new woodland, compared with only 30 per cent of landowners who did not host hunts or shoots.

"This suggests that those who hunt and/or shoot provide significant conservation benefits," he said.

Prof Sharp calls on hunters and shooters to make more effort to explain the benefits of their activities to conservationists, policy-makers and the public.

"Overwhelmingly the target species for field sports have fared well over the last century ... More game-keeping, game crops and habitat management would undoubtedly achieve even more."


4To order a copy.

Sweet Nectar


I have been pleasantly bothered
by wasp and other flying things in
my garden. I was intrigued to capture
one in flight.
Acrylic on 5x7 panel board.
This painting is for sale.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The inside of the gourd has been finished with tempered glass. The outside of the gourd has layers of my french journal pages, upon which I then wrote Reiki blessing symbols and covered them with a crackle glaze and antiqued it. I like mystery. :)
Then I covered that with antique netting that has little dark irredescent
sequins on it and put some crackle glaze over that...then when that was dry....I added some paint.
I clearly don't know where I'm going with this, but the ride is fun!







Snowball


Snowball is another maltese on
5x7 panel board.

A Comeback?

I think I might be making a comeback. A slow, gradual comeback for sure, but I think it's happening. I no longer feel the dragging, debilitating aches and weakness of the past two weeks. I can move my legs, my arms, my fingers, my toes without sending my heart into overdrive. I can walk up the stairs without my quads aching and without having to sit on the landing at the top to catch my breath. My nose is no longer as attune as Sammy's which means I am no longer nauseated by every scent lingering in the air. I can get through a day without crying in pain or just pure frustration and exhaustion. There is still lots of room for improvement, but I believe I've crossed the valley and am on my way back up toward the peak of the next hill --- BEAM chemo.

I hit a very low point, the lowest I have ever been during this entire year, and have been riding that low wave truly without interruption since I started this DI-CEP chemo just under two weeks ago. For the first time I can confidently say that I was completely helpless and conceded. I couldn't do my daily walks and even stretching was exhausting. I've had no appetite and no energy to make my own food. By some stroke of kismet, Craig was off from work on April school break so I had him home to check on me, to bring me food, to bring me to all my appointments, to be my arms and legs and to console me when I couldn't slow my mind down and couldn't keep my emotions in check. But the weakness spilled over into the next week and I had to call my mom to come over early to help me to get something prepared for lunch and drive me to the cancer center. This chemo bout has taught me (finally) to ask for help and to say what I need and don't need. When you have essential no white blood cells (I got as low as 0.1) and your hematocrit is dangerously low leaving your body deprived of oxygen in its blood stream, pride is kind of thrown out the window. I would have let a perfect stranger bathe me if it met I didn't have to stand woozy in the shower.

But I came out of it, with the help of all that support and all the encouragement that I receive from the amazing people that I have in my life. Holy crap there were days that I did not think I'd ever feel like myself again, but again I'm amazed that now I can see that this too will pass on a very near horizon. My appetite is coming back and so is my regular sleep pattern – huge strides. And, most importantly my blood counts are making a comeback. Again, much credit must be given to my spongy, young bone marrow. I should never have doubted it. Also, a shout out to the O Positive blood donors out there whose cells are helping supplementing my own.

Craig and I spent 10 hours in the hospital on Saturday where I received two units of red blood cells and a unit of platelets to help me recover. After the platelets were sent through my port, I felt scattered hives start creeping up around my body. They'd be crazy itchy and then rise up as little bumps. One on my chest, then my head, then my back. I tried to pretend that I didn't notice as we both wanted to get out of there so badly and this was the last bag of blood, but I knew better. Once the bag had finished I told the nurse that I had developed some hives and when she saw them I got a figurative slap on the wrist for not calling her immediately. Now it meant more Benadryl and another hour for them to monitor me. I hate Benadryl. After it made me see the usual stars, I passed out sleeping. Woke up with chest pain and an EKG was ordered ... we thought we would never get to leave. But my nurse was fantastic and did everything she could to help get us home - including bringing me right into the nursing station for the resident on rotation to examine me there and look at my EKG results and see I was otherwise ready to leave. That was so much appreciated.

I've had to go back to Hartford Hospital every day since to get my blood cell counts checked but have not needed anymore transfusions. Today, my white blood cells more than quadrupled from 0.6 yesterday to 4.5, which explains the wrenching pain I had in my lower back and hips this morning - the biggest concentrations of marrow. The stem cells are beginning to transform into the cells I need and the Neulasta shot from last week is finally starting to kick in. My red cells are continually climbing, slowly, so my fatigue is starting to diminish, but my platelet levels are still diving so I have to be very careful with any bleeding. Teeth brushing was a blood bath this morning and last night I bent a nail low and the entire thing pooled with blood without the sufficient amount of platelets to help it stick together. They told me no hang gliding today.

As one nurse put it "the chemo is killing everything from your mouth to your anus," which explained why my gums were pulsing and sore with that just-flossed-for-the-first-time-in-months feeling and why my "anus" continues to be a point of sore contention. As my counts recover, the achyness is subsiding.

Like a germinating seedling, my roots are finding their footing on the ground again and my layers are starting to open back up and reach toward the sun. I'm still very fragile, but slowly, with enough tender, loving care, I can now see that I WILL be whole again and ready to take on one. more. round.

Will Passive Poultry Mean More Expensive Eggs?



Purdue researchers have developed peaceful chickens to reduce 'cannibalism' in factory farm pens. That sound like a good thing, but there may be a small joker in the deck. You see:

Researchers say decades of breeding to make the white leghorn hens that lay most of the nation's eggs more productive have also boosted the birds' territorial instincts, making them prone to pecking attacks so fierce they're often called "cannibalism."


What's that mean for "peaceful chickens"?

It means they likely produce less, which means fewer eggs per bird per year and, presumably, a higher price for eggs.

Will that matter? Probably not.

Eggs are so cheap now, that a few pennies -- or even 50 cents more a carton -- will not change how many eggs I consume, or what I pay for anything at the store or in a restaurant.

But will more peaceful chickens improve the lot of egg-producing poultry? Probably not. Egg-producing chickens will still be crowded, will still live in darkened sheds, and will still end up dead and in dog food after their egg-laying life is over..

I have made my peace with it. Nature is red in tooth and claw, and anyone who thinks otherwise should check the bottom of bird nests this time of year. Nothing gets out of this world alive, and the best any of us can hope for is ready food, ready water, a roof over our head, and a little companionship. Put in those simple terms, most factory chickens are doing far better than a billion people on earth.
.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Lemon Sour


Lemon Sour was painted for a challenge at
acrylic on 4x6 panel board.
UNAVAILABLE

In the Beginning


Repost from April 2005.

"The earth trembled and a great rift appeared, separating the first man and woman from the rest of the animal kingdom. As the chasm grew deeper and wider, all the other creatures, afraid for their lives, returned to the forest -- except for the dog, who after much consideration, leapt the perilous rift to stay with the humans on the other side. His love for humanity was greater than his bond to other creatures, he explained, and he willingly forfeited his place in paradise to prove it."

4 Native American folktale from "The Lost History of the Canine Race" by Mary Elizabeth Thurston

Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Doggy Man Cave



Someone wanted to see what the "doggy man cave" looked like without all the snow not on it. The answer is pretty rough! This was constructed from stone at the back of the property.

From the beginning, the plan has been for ivy to cover the whole thing, and for potted geraniums to go on the top. By September, the dogs will simply be disappearing into the foliage!

At the bottom of the dog house entry, are two rough blocks of stone which slip out when the inside is cleaned. Inside, the floor is solid concrete, and sloped to drain (the stones fit into the drain ramp at the door). On top of the concrete floor is foam insulation which easily slips out, and on top of that are rubber mats, with a thick bed of straw on top. No dogs have ever been dryer!

If you look at the tree to the right of the doorway in the first picture at top, you can see a little black box, which is my Moultrie game camera which I use to photograph visiting yard fox.

For the record, the dogs have another doggy man cave inside the garage, which is also insulated and heated. At night the dogs sleep inside the house, in their own individual crates located inside the laundry room.
.

Comfort Things


Comfort Things is an acrylic painting on
a 4x6 panel board. Painted for a challenge
UNAVAILABLE

Saturday, April 24, 2010

A blessing bowl....beginning....

A gourd....french journal pages...tempered glass....clay sculpted into a head....treasures collected, a pin, beads, antique trim....and a fan of black coral......Come back to see her unfold......