tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80886746056102502612024-03-20T04:42:22.597-04:00How To Fill The HoursAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-80565046340595976802017-04-17T12:00:00.000-04:002017-04-17T12:00:10.264-04:00Naughty, Naughty NatureI am sooooooo immature. Let me prove it to you.<br />
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Saw a picture of the Great Blue Hole in Belize and my mind, for no reason other than I am a child inside, thought "Oh look, goat.se Caribbean style!"<br />
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Yes, I saw this picture of Mother Nature's wonder and grandeur and immediately thought of a bunghole. And then, not 15 minutes later, I saw The Door to Hell in Turkmenistan and theorized that the Great Blue Hole ate some wicked vindaloo chicken. In case you don't know what the Door to Hell is, there was an oil field and it collapsed. The engineers didn't want noxious fumes to fill caverns and maybe nearby villages so they decided to burn the natural gas. The figured it would burn out in a few weeks:<br />
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It's been more than forty years.<br />
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That's not even the half of it. A few years ago I planted Jungle Gold African Impatiens in my shade garden out back. I did this for one reason and one reason only. the little flowers looked like twats. <br />
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They looked even more twat-like in real life.<br />
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You know, maybe it isn't me. Maybe it's nature. She's the one who keeps sexing up everything. Seriously, look at this tree.<br />
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That cannot be by accident. Still not convinced?<br />
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I mean, COME ON!<br />
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Oh and Mama Nature's got everybody's genitalia on display.<br />
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It can't be just me.<br />
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Because, I swear to God, this is real life passion-fruit. Not kidding or photoshopped or nothing. A true fruit growing from a tree.<br />
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There. Now you are immature too.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-2120348818533731142017-04-11T12:00:00.000-04:002017-04-11T12:00:00.163-04:00How Can I Paint When The World's Gonna End?There is a piece-- a project, really-- that I've been working on for two weeks now. And by "working on" I mean not doing diddly squat. Most of the tedious, not fun part is done I just haven't put brush to canvas and I don't know why. At night I lie awake thinking and plotting how I'm going to attack the painting. I do this because I don't sleep. And then my mind just takes a weird turn and I start thinking about the star Betelgeuse-- or, as I'm going to call if from now on, Beetlejuice.<br />
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This is the size of Beetlejuice compared to our solar system, so good thing it's 640 light-years away. It is about to go supernova. Aaany minute now. Or perhaps as soon as 10,000 years or maybe even it already has. We don't <i>really</i> know considering all news from Beetlejuice is 640 years old. Scientist now say that when it goes supernova it probably won't produce a gamma ray burst. Probably. Let's be clear. If it did produce a gamma ray burst it would kill us all. It most likely won't, assure the astrophysicists. Most likely.<br />
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Which means to me that it is not outside the realm of possibility. So it is possible Beetlejuice already went supernova and did produce a gamma ray burst and we've all been dead for 640 years, we just don't know it.<br />
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This is more worrying to me then the Yellowstone Super Volcano. It's gonna blow one of these centuries. It's kinda overdue but we can watch it and perhaps prepare as a global community. Oh sure, us United Statsians are clearly fucked and will have to depend on the kindness of our allies. But we've been spreading around nothing but goodwill lately, so I'm sure those of us who survive will be fine. BTW, here's an artist's rendition of the Yellowstone Super Volcano:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0ykE0eCAN_rNK-Jp8NoCUXHncpUJ_uot1GgtpOBuTpFAGxGnJ3QGL92yobERzQPaEYDHmFvpl5wA1n0YjZHn2R3gxa_Ew1COL1IKCN2Qh1HwQOyE34GKJHxoH-fiAn4TK2MowxaMSkQ/s1600/YSV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0ykE0eCAN_rNK-Jp8NoCUXHncpUJ_uot1GgtpOBuTpFAGxGnJ3QGL92yobERzQPaEYDHmFvpl5wA1n0YjZHn2R3gxa_Ew1COL1IKCN2Qh1HwQOyE34GKJHxoH-fiAn4TK2MowxaMSkQ/s400/YSV.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Isn't that super volcano beautiful? And while I'm sure that is a digital painting, I'd love to be able to produce something like this on canvas. If only I weren't worrying so much about the world ending. . .<br />
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Why yes, I do have an Etsy: <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Fallen Face Studio</a><span id="goog_257452753"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_257452754"></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-88666574808148470662017-04-03T12:00:00.000-04:002017-04-03T12:00:03.847-04:00There is Fan Art for Every Corner of FandomDo you know what there is a lot of fan art of? I mean besides the types of Stars both Trek and Wars? Breaking Bad. There are mountains of Breaking Bad fan art. Mostly of Heisenburg's head. Here however, is Isabella Morawetz's not-White's-head fan painting.<br />
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I'm going to be honest. I have never watched Breaking Bad, not even one minute of the introduction so I have no idea what this is a painting of and how it fits into the Breaking Bad world. I just really liked it.<br />
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Just because your favorite show hasn't been on TV for three decades doesn't mean you can't paint steampunk fan art of it.<br />
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I searched and searched for an artist name for this piece, but not only could I not find a name, I couldn't find the painting again either. If any of the five of you who read this know who the artist is, leave it in the comments.<br />
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And I also have a few fan art paintings of very obvious fan art subjects. The aforementioned Star franchises, Dr. Who, Minecraft and others. Here are some Futurama minis I done did.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RIKev6MxF-GUNG2Xu0cNaZVOaVA2XWyC3mX9SA4hyphenhyphenEGepZ7q1BJP7XA6Ay85QjguDYXfzuZ81R4FrW7RgpwQ3gwYOCTdXOaHdxYif-YjRhcbJ1aLOb577NTJf2DnKqcbgJ8IW8JK5kQ/s1600/Futurama+quad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1RIKev6MxF-GUNG2Xu0cNaZVOaVA2XWyC3mX9SA4hyphenhyphenEGepZ7q1BJP7XA6Ay85QjguDYXfzuZ81R4FrW7RgpwQ3gwYOCTdXOaHdxYif-YjRhcbJ1aLOb577NTJf2DnKqcbgJ8IW8JK5kQ/s400/Futurama+quad.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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But does fan art have to be a movie or TV show? What if you really like former president Richard Nixon and you paint about that? Does that count?<br />
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It could be that the artist, Wayne White, isn't really a fan of Nixon. He really enjoys putting words into his paintings. Other words include "BIGUNS" and "Artificial Cherry Flavoring". Now that I come to think of it, perhaps he does like those things.<br />
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And finally there is this guy who loves Taco Bell. Specifically, he loves Taco Bell's salsa/sauce (why do I think it's a guy? Dunno. Seems guyish).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXH7-Ak3wH-pALmd95uKNpOkKk0QdBazq39MlR7ZO4IU6mmRn6MFW-Rjw2obu3f-AxM7Fp-lnw5hHglndHXSc6zvZYBmj5DdMHNUw5BZamgcbzk_DuuEIS9dVUARN7kGXAEqKDPJZxyY/s1600/taco+b+sauce.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXH7-Ak3wH-pALmd95uKNpOkKk0QdBazq39MlR7ZO4IU6mmRn6MFW-Rjw2obu3f-AxM7Fp-lnw5hHglndHXSc6zvZYBmj5DdMHNUw5BZamgcbzk_DuuEIS9dVUARN7kGXAEqKDPJZxyY/s400/taco+b+sauce.png" width="300" /></a></div>
I traced this back to an anonymous Reddit user. I think this guy should step up and take credit for this fanfreakingtastic work of Taco Bell art.<br />
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Why yes, I do have an Etsy: <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Fallen Face Studio</a> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-54305344181826438222017-03-20T13:00:00.000-04:002017-03-20T13:00:32.923-04:00Music To Paint Mirror Balls ByThis all started when I woke up with these sentences running through my mind: Idle hands are the playground of the Devil. Do you wanna get funky with me? Do you wanna?<br />
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Obviously my brain had been taken over in a Disco invasion and I had to paint about it. However, having played Peter Brown's Get Funky With Me about twenty times since then, I've grown tired of it. How about instead of getting funky with Peter, we calm the fuck down and just dance with him?<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DKz2b0T2F3s" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Well hey, this song reminds me of when I was under-aged and getting into discos in NYC left and right. Seriously-- high schooling 5 days a week and disco-ing 3 days a week and working-- WORKING!!!! at a supermarket-- waaaaaay before I turned 18 much less 21. Reminds me of something. . .<br />
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It's Thursday and we don't want to do anything too strenuous, there is school the next day after all. A sit down with a pitcher at <a href="http://vanishingnewyork.blogspot.com/2014/12/back-fence-to-bark.html" target="_blank">The Back Fence</a> while listening to some live guitar music is a fine way to start the weekend. Yeah, when I was 16 the weekend started on Thursday.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ifj8fhlpcDM" width="560"></iframe><br />
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The lighting at The Back Fence is so reminiscent of something. . ..<br />
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Back in school on Friday no worse for wear because we are immortal. We sang this song at 78 rpms instead of 45 thereby rendering Thelma totally squirrelish.<br />
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"That's no moon!"</div>
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After school we end up here. Where's here? Why our favorite dance club where everybody knows our names, the beats are familiar and we all can meet at the bathroom to discuss the pickings out on the floor.<br />
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This is beginning to be a thing.</div>
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Surely this song was an oldie by the time we did The Freak out on the floor but I still remember hearing porn star Andrea True backing up our dance moves with her vocals.<br />
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Is it a disco ball or a mirror ball?</div>
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Isn't it nice that we made it home in time to get ready to go out? Saturday was the <i>real</i> party night. What is waiting for us out there, girls?<br />
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So dark and yet so light. </div>
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Are we fakers or are we here to snap our fingers until we put holes in our thumbs?!! <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/t6jpqgZMpJ0" width="560"></iframe><br />
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THAT'S RIGHT! </div>
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And so the sun comes up and it is now Sunday, the day when we slowly walk the walk of shame in the glaring early morning light with our high heels swinging from our fingers because our feet can't take it anymore.<br />
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And we take one final shot at our disco ball, sleep and store up energy for the next weekend ready to store up memories to post about years later.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-47838593988314534202017-03-15T13:00:00.000-04:002017-03-15T13:00:36.996-04:00I Regret Being Cheap and CautionCinnamon Cooney, of the fantastic lip tutorial, recently put up a how to on painting an old copper background which I loved. Here, you'll love it too.<br />
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I decided to experiment with it and since I wasn't sure how my experiment was going to work out, I used my very cheap school grade paint and acrylic paper.<br />
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Step One: Putting on burnt umber and phthalo blue with a big brush. </div>
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The elementary school burnt umber wasn't bad but the phthalo blue was
just. . . wrong. And opaque. Who ever heard of opaque phthalo anything?
Who ever heard of the word 'phthalo' to begin with? The people who do not want to say 'phthalocyanine', that's who.<br />
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Step Two: Draw outline of pitcher with charcoal pencil and paint around it.</div>
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I'd like to point out how well the drawing turned out considering I can't draw for shit as you can see by how many times I had to draw the belly of the pitcher before I got it right. Seriously, like three or four tries just to get an outline of a pitcher! Why am I here? Why do I even pretend I can art when I can't draw a simple pitcher?<br />
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Step Three: Get over myself and add layers.</div>
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With a sea sponge I layered on not cheap phthalo green and yellow oxide. Only because there was no phthalo green with the grade school paint and the two yellows were like lemon and sunshine yellows. You know, for painting rainbow unicorns.<br />
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Step Four: Use more yellow oxide and gold to layer on more, especially in the highlighted parts, then make a thin wash of white to highlight some more.</div>
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The End.</div>
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Note also how funky the lighting is in my painting room. I face a
north-facing window where I can look into my neighbor's hallway window
if they ever do anything exciting. Which they don't. I got a pretty harsh
100 watt overhead LED bulb which is a giant improvement over the dim,
dumb 40 watt fluorescent that was there until a few days ago. And last,
but not least, a goose-necked light clamped to the table that I use to
shine on stuff I can't see because I'm blind.<br />
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The upper left hand corner of this painting did not change from one photo to the next. Yet the time of day, the source(s) of light-- even the angle of the camera changed the colors a lot. I'd like to take it outside to photograph it in natural light but there is a snowpocolyps abrewing and I'm not going out there.<br />
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No matter which light it is in, I like the way it turned out but since I painted it on paper instead of canvas I cannot hang it in my home, I can only tape it to my craft room wall like a lovesick teenager.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-20384154996310856942017-03-13T13:00:00.000-04:002017-03-13T13:00:20.389-04:00Our Wide Eyed Little Primate CousinsI am in the middle of painting a tarsier. I am painting a tasier because I love painting eyes and I hate painting fur. I figure if I paint a tarsier I get to practice the hated fur and reward myself with eyes. In case you have no idea what I am talking about, here's a tarsier:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGKJFUb8aPg-DXo6YOST_TcYzLJmKZtq1T5hQL6UAogvU_QRBLXlNuTfO5hUnOuu0fengerMJpn9aJh-1FFfBZ8Ri7jVlHvoMfngTmoo86UQsAD41E2SED1-BId87HDFle6VVxBfMe_0/s1600/tasierforblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGKJFUb8aPg-DXo6YOST_TcYzLJmKZtq1T5hQL6UAogvU_QRBLXlNuTfO5hUnOuu0fengerMJpn9aJh-1FFfBZ8Ri7jVlHvoMfngTmoo86UQsAD41E2SED1-BId87HDFle6VVxBfMe_0/s640/tasierforblog.jpg" width="482" /></a></div>
The smallest totally carnivorous primate in existence. He looks like a much more adorable version of his ghetto cousin the Aye Aye.<br />
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O.K. Michele. What kinda of stereotyping, racist bullshit are you talking about? Ghetto cousin? Really?<br />
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Some of you will say that the above photo still does not make it right. Just because the Aye Aye isn't as adorable as the tasier doesn't make using that descriptor acceptable. Some of you may be right. But what if I tell you that the Aye Aye's most distinguishing feature is her fuck-you-finger? Her long, flexible, muscular index finger that she uses to lure prey?<br />
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If that's not ghetto, then nothing is.<br />
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But enough of our ugly Aye Aye cousins and on to our more adorable cousins named by Dr. Seuss-- the Lorises. Or is that Lorisi? Lorisus? However it is pluralized there are two of them. One is Slender and the other is Slow.<br />
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Slender</div>
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Slow</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0J2z48p6buNEiFQKQFc_6SueV7eHHR3kGqbUjB4PzsOMW0T0EzVlwvUCQos3GeJyT48JmJvtguWN638GQcMAh9s7UbV4sr9dDKevITedPIxGlSDyBRz8TVuiUCYsFS0dTPwE_4dnxTMU/s1600/slow+loris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0J2z48p6buNEiFQKQFc_6SueV7eHHR3kGqbUjB4PzsOMW0T0EzVlwvUCQos3GeJyT48JmJvtguWN638GQcMAh9s7UbV4sr9dDKevITedPIxGlSDyBRz8TVuiUCYsFS0dTPwE_4dnxTMU/s320/slow+loris.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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What's the difference? Well, one is skinny with bad-assed dance moves and the other is retarded, apparently. Oh and look at that Slow guy's face. It must be painted! The Primate Naming Committee should not have insulted him by calling him Slow. They should have insulted him by calling him Sad.<br />
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And finally, one more shot of the tarsier because I must:<br />
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Ah, what the hell-- one last one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rfMG60VUb4xGnJTmv2KDPtuJLRkkHWDzqAndzsCjbY1Tknc9GxN1Fq6F6718IDj3sXS_4Q073Ep39V-chATo3-hWleqwIQ-PXMRTlxCIUflkPB_KmRP4Oq6MUPbNS4tKb-OE-ey6PCc/s1600/winking+tars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rfMG60VUb4xGnJTmv2KDPtuJLRkkHWDzqAndzsCjbY1Tknc9GxN1Fq6F6718IDj3sXS_4Q073Ep39V-chATo3-hWleqwIQ-PXMRTlxCIUflkPB_KmRP4Oq6MUPbNS4tKb-OE-ey6PCc/s640/winking+tars.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Why yes, I do have an Etsy: <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Fallen Face Studio</a><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-75430571190223119612017-03-10T13:00:00.000-05:002017-03-10T13:00:17.345-05:00Will Kemp's Cherry and Carl's Glass GemsMore of an Art School style YouTuber (<a href="http://willkempartschool.com/" target="_blank">he, in fact, has an on-line art school you can enroll in)</a> Will Kemp taught me how to layer with acrylics. You could say Will Kemp's cherry busted my art bone. You could say that but don't. It's stupid. Anyway, here's the first part of Will Kemp's cherry.<br />
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Will Kemp's cherry is so complex that it comes in a four part series that contains five parts. I'm not even joking. This series of lessons was one of the best YouTube lesson I ever watched. There's no way I would have been able to tackle Carl's Glass Gem Corn without it.<br />
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"Carl's Glass Gem Corn? What the hell is that?" I can pretend someone asks so I may continue typing. Carl's Glass Gem Corn is a painting of corn cultivated by Carl named Glass Gem. The corn is called Glass Gem. Carl is the cultivator. The painting is called Carl's Glass Gem Corn.<br />
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Background.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wkcy3OQggbyJqRlUfSRTuH3-gaupuriX1SuLwMfPrNI0Bl5HUokrmAUmVLzUMIQI8gvAwkanU4JJta6Y8nGN1G0xVFxy6W054CDan4P-tkD-bZPYAVM2b0zGNH3ywWGMTqLwVJHJ-H4/s1600/gc1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wkcy3OQggbyJqRlUfSRTuH3-gaupuriX1SuLwMfPrNI0Bl5HUokrmAUmVLzUMIQI8gvAwkanU4JJta6Y8nGN1G0xVFxy6W054CDan4P-tkD-bZPYAVM2b0zGNH3ywWGMTqLwVJHJ-H4/s320/gc1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Under-painting layer.</div>
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About three layers in.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvbpus2TX-oTcgQYm43D-PZ7wmdsDOSwAWndfbkhhCU7rsnYKe1Q2BJrMcSnIrnTMoyzdV-YHnVi-iH-y8aCv2NZ3rc6Vu58vQ919cAQkrDDRW6IoPYEoS_YwcFVfEG2FQCYff6wlWz4/s1600/gc3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvbpus2TX-oTcgQYm43D-PZ7wmdsDOSwAWndfbkhhCU7rsnYKe1Q2BJrMcSnIrnTMoyzdV-YHnVi-iH-y8aCv2NZ3rc6Vu58vQ919cAQkrDDRW6IoPYEoS_YwcFVfEG2FQCYff6wlWz4/s320/gc3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'd say there are about 4 more layers in this one.</div>
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Another 3 layers plus shine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZw0snfJyD4PqtykSLDSMGykWDlB5xX03jBTOu9I0VDULSTGRbrgo4S8gIP1H07vVaaJPeyvj8dJwziDcLQr4_Qcis7c6OTowUcNn1kuBny_h4nGkR0MIV7Q5t7llyOP1zBI_VkcpMQRU/s1600/gem+corn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZw0snfJyD4PqtykSLDSMGykWDlB5xX03jBTOu9I0VDULSTGRbrgo4S8gIP1H07vVaaJPeyvj8dJwziDcLQr4_Qcis7c6OTowUcNn1kuBny_h4nGkR0MIV7Q5t7llyOP1zBI_VkcpMQRU/s320/gem+corn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is not how the painting actually looks. All these pictures were taken inside my far too gloomy painting room. It can't be called a studio, it's too dark. Here's a picture of the painting taken outside-- on a cloudy day, no less.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidU4R8APCuYPVO0V-7wTuxPiZo78xpb6ttFgs_GJn2QeGQeSk8Ydoqjq7P5S4fwYFwOAkLf8ZfhFL0e7YPbEBFTe7sZwYAWK-jPtHzKa4FS4owuP7yCAZAhtCuO98wr5biI9UOZZkeHww/s1600/gem+corn+outside.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidU4R8APCuYPVO0V-7wTuxPiZo78xpb6ttFgs_GJn2QeGQeSk8Ydoqjq7P5S4fwYFwOAkLf8ZfhFL0e7YPbEBFTe7sZwYAWK-jPtHzKa4FS4owuP7yCAZAhtCuO98wr5biI9UOZZkeHww/s320/gem+corn+outside.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This here one is more how the painting looks in real life.<br />
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Why yes, I do have an Etsy! <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Fallen Face Studio</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-4183263130376412532017-03-09T13:00:00.000-05:002017-03-09T13:00:19.438-05:00The Artist All Up In There!Just like any celebrity, artists want to be face forward too. "Look at me 500 years ago painting these dope paintings!" they'd say if they used 1990s slang. Only most of these were commissioned works and the people paying did not give them money to put their ugly mugs in the picture. But as we know, artists are crafty mofos. <br />
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Check out Jan van Eyck's Arnolfini Wedding.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAC_LfaIe8zTH_7hv1Ek_cmwxHkn2XxZoAldKV0a6yy-ZnBARb7P6NP1ins9imXGvFdp_UWOGheRSXBazaxLSFInvgvkPEV-WHuA6r3EIGVNJNx5PLtWRPY1Wv7ISW-uDatj9M65_pHuM/s1600/Arnolfini+wedding.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAC_LfaIe8zTH_7hv1Ek_cmwxHkn2XxZoAldKV0a6yy-ZnBARb7P6NP1ins9imXGvFdp_UWOGheRSXBazaxLSFInvgvkPEV-WHuA6r3EIGVNJNx5PLtWRPY1Wv7ISW-uDatj9M65_pHuM/s400/Arnolfini+wedding.png" width="291" /></a></div>
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The first thing we notice besides wow! what a beautiful painting, is that 15th century Italians waited for the very last minute to get married. Plus they had dog-bone shoes for their Shih Tzu. What you probably don't notice is good ole Jan hanging out with the family. Lemme show him to you:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MpOgJmNVeNf_oN6tvpVFuY_PRheK1inAju2QfL4J8SRsy-AfmXvCVR9zw5aHVoFhM1M7doerc1A3BWcyq4hGDh4STDJygIcqE70ieMTqREXhsThhrYLpbPdUapd4jqrAX5Z_HW0WK9I/s1600/arnolfini+mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MpOgJmNVeNf_oN6tvpVFuY_PRheK1inAju2QfL4J8SRsy-AfmXvCVR9zw5aHVoFhM1M7doerc1A3BWcyq4hGDh4STDJygIcqE70ieMTqREXhsThhrYLpbPdUapd4jqrAX5Z_HW0WK9I/s320/arnolfini+mirror.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This is how bad-assed (or desperate to be in the picture, you decide) he was. In the mirror in the background of the painting is the back of his subjects and the front of him (plus someone else), Because circles within circles, dude.<br />
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If the painting wasn't commissioned the artist could be much bolder. Johannes Vermeer was exactly that in The Procuress.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHS8st7WOTVu2UeTEZAxRamu_Ld_23lkEh65OP9OzXM7EISycEXzBxhrfzkJI-Gw-YfEODmzpHzq5C2Qk3ref3548j0a7R-4Os-Pls9AtJFjnQTMBaGVwmJJm5DeAeAaR7GZfL0b_BjZ0/s1600/procuress+vermeer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHS8st7WOTVu2UeTEZAxRamu_Ld_23lkEh65OP9OzXM7EISycEXzBxhrfzkJI-Gw-YfEODmzpHzq5C2Qk3ref3548j0a7R-4Os-Pls9AtJFjnQTMBaGVwmJJm5DeAeAaR7GZfL0b_BjZ0/s400/procuress+vermeer.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
You know, it could be a commission for all I know. Don't think many 17th century art patrons request paintings of hoes in whorehouses. Alas, Mr. Vermeer is not the tit-grabber. He's the alcohol drinker. A detail of this painting is usually what you see if someone is showing you a picture of Vermeer. Although the drink and tit grabbing are usually blocked out.<br />
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Another century passes and painters are getting bolder. Here Francisco de Goya as Spain's Court Painter, inserts himself in this for sure court paining: The Family of the Infante Don Luis de Borbón<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZX8Wwddtdvx1OnakNE97qLCCqGIfkixLH9Kc-g7kYpGtzdJ5XIQpxPNaqguIBT8gdROajTk0Kr03OhTkxYFTOj7Cb8cKE2SuAF0jBlzpNCA0m8I3QVYmfD8CqkqLb1-xOzKl8bLn_EU/s1600/Francisco_de_Goya._The_Family_of_the_Infante_Don_Luis_de_Borb%25C3%25B3n._1783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZX8Wwddtdvx1OnakNE97qLCCqGIfkixLH9Kc-g7kYpGtzdJ5XIQpxPNaqguIBT8gdROajTk0Kr03OhTkxYFTOj7Cb8cKE2SuAF0jBlzpNCA0m8I3QVYmfD8CqkqLb1-xOzKl8bLn_EU/s400/Francisco_de_Goya._The_Family_of_the_Infante_Don_Luis_de_Borb%25C3%25B3n._1783.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
I think he used a bit of misdirect razzle-dazzle. "No, Senor Borbon. I did not insert myself into your family portrait! As you can easily see, I was painting the portrait when some <i>other </i>painter painted me painting you. I mean, come on, most of you were looking straight at him!"<br />
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In modern times the artist doesn't even pretend to be painting anything else but himself. Right Norman? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9-g3CTp9c2RLO7W90504_Ny4cbsi4mzM18G8BXXOQhdg1SkpVPaOddeicdlv3eYRHcA6u9N6fUYDS3JMio8Gj0QeDUVglI7cAsEDHaZ00xzjI_WTdHpmwAKNHqyRCRsj6Ht3-Secmc8/s1600/norman+self+portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9-g3CTp9c2RLO7W90504_Ny4cbsi4mzM18G8BXXOQhdg1SkpVPaOddeicdlv3eYRHcA6u9N6fUYDS3JMio8Gj0QeDUVglI7cAsEDHaZ00xzjI_WTdHpmwAKNHqyRCRsj6Ht3-Secmc8/s400/norman+self+portrait.jpg" width="313" /></a></div>
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And finally we have a painting of a painter painting a painting of a painting painting himself.<br />
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I did, like, 4 days of research on this here painting and I think (not sure as I don't speak German) that this is an artist and writer named Armin Peter Faust. Any of you fives of people who read this can correct me if I'm wrong.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of course I have an Etsy. <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Fallen Face Studio</a></span></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-67368128797197995762017-03-07T13:00:00.000-05:002017-03-07T13:00:47.920-05:00More Internet Teacher LoveAre you a beginner acrylic painter but don't know your acetone from your elbow? Hie thee quickly to YouTube and hashtag yourself some BigArtQuest! There is some real learning going on over at Cinnamon Cooney's channel, The Art Sherpa. And Cinnamon is a work of art herself. I just adore her Ombre lips and matching hair. Plus, you can tell that just off-camera, she's a little bit salty. I like that imagined trait in a person.<br />
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The Rocky Horror tutorial I link to below is not part of The Art Sherpa's Big Art Quest. The Big Art Quest includes things like How to Make Custom Color Charts and The Miracle of Acrylic Mediums and Easy Skin Tones. These videos are actual lessons with definitions and homework and stuff-- that you don't have to do because it's YouTube! and not an expensive class you paid hundreds of dollars for. So blow it off, who cares?<br />
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I very recently watch this video (note Cinnamon's purple Ombre action) and was inspired to paint my own lips. Not my own lips that are on my face. No-- my own painting of lips not done according to this tutorial. Except for how to paint the teeth. I did suffer badly from "Chiclet teeth". The Sherpa fixed that.<br />
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Here's how I did it.<br />
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Picked a very, very pinkish peach and painted the whole canvas. Drew in the fang lips with a charcoal pencil (Don't be messy like me when you do this). First coat of teeth is grey, inside of mouth is black and the shadow is burnt umber.</div>
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First coat of magenta, oxide red and titanium white. </div>
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Second coat. And we're blending and blending and blending. . . .</div>
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Highlight them teeth! No Chiclets here. </div>
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More layers. More blending. More layers. More blending. Now shine them lips up good and glossy! </div>
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Ya know, that pretty much is what Cinnamon did in her video. Except my lips are Ombre and I did a lot more layers.<br />
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Ombre. A word that I have used maybe 3 times in my whole life and now I have a page on the internet, which means forever, repeating it over and over.<br />
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Why yes, I do have an Etsy! <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Pinkslinkie's Fallen Face Studio.</a> <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-2173246631274302012017-03-03T14:30:00.000-05:002017-03-03T14:30:22.697-05:00In The Beginning There was Clive, The Mad Welshman.I don't remember how I stumbled across Clive of Clive5Art but it was very early on in my art journey. I don't know why he it the spot so well. I liked his style of painting and I liked how he rambled on and I liked his accent and how he seemed like such a proper English gentleman who occasionally wore a thumb ring. Over the years his studio has grown and his production values have gotten better and he tries so very hard not to ramble and keep his videos short. I dunno, I love the ramblings. Here he is introducing himself:<br />
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Just as Angela Anderson showed me that I could paint pictures that weren't crap, Clive showed me I can paint pictures that I could be proud of. Not that I wasn't proud of some of my other stuff. You know, stuff that didn't look like crap always made me happy. But look at this study of a cat's eye I painted following one of his tutorials.<br />
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I could paint like this? Wow Clive, thanks for showing me I could.<br />
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Of course I have an Etsy! <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Pinkslink's Fallen Face Studio</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-85114614616895953352017-03-01T10:40:00.000-05:002017-03-01T10:40:42.632-05:00The Hours Continue to Need FillingBack in January of 2015 my face fell. Did the hospital thing and the rehab thing and, after about two months, my job told me that they did not want my wobbly, drooly, funny talking ass around no more. Also, jewelry making became almost impossible. Now what was I going to do?<br />
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After week of sitting at home wondering what the hell I was going to do with myself now that all I could do was walk into walls and drop food out of my mouth, I decided I wanted to paint a picture. Not to paint a picture, mind you, but as a stencil of sorts for a mosaic. I got some acrylic paint from my craft room and the lid of a cigar box and painted a flower-eyed view of the sky. Look at this piece of shit:<br />
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Boy, you could tell I hadn't painted a damn thing since elementary school. But I still had paint and I still had cigar box lids and I still had 24 hours to fill-- minus the sleepy time, of course. So I pressed on. I painted about 3 very, very terrible paintings before realizing that there were teachers out there, willing to teach me for free. My very first painting teacher was Angela Anderson and she taught me how to paint trees with sponges.<br />
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I do not have a picture of the painting I did using this tutorial (my fourth ever) because someone liked it and I gave it to them. Yes, I--me!-- painted something nice enough for someone else to want. Well now. This meant I had to buy supplies!<br />
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The thing is, ever since I picked up that brush 2 and a little bit years ago I have not put it down. Every day I paint a little. Every day I learn more with teachers who just give away painting lessons! They just give them away. For free. I am forever grateful.<br />
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Of course I have an Etsy! <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/Pinkslinks" target="_blank">Pinkslink's Fallen Face Studio.</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-71513321765279066282015-09-30T14:30:00.000-04:002015-09-30T14:30:15.222-04:00TV Screen Endangering CommercialsI need to vent my spleen as it has filled up with whatever goes into spleens. I've seen that commercial again. The one that makes me want to strangle a teacher. It goes something like this:<br />
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Two couples playing Scrabble. One person puts down the word 'you'. The next person says, "I'll build on that word," and sets down the letters n e f c . Another alert Scrabble player says, "Hey, that's not a word-- and you're a teacher!"<br />
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Then, the worlds most retarded teacher says-- and I swear she says this-- "Yes it is a word. It's pronounced "nefque" and it STANDS FOR Nassau Educators Federal Credit Union."<br />
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That's when I start yelling at my TV. "THAT'S STILL NOT A WORD YOU STUPID FREAKIN' BITCH!!!! AND YOU'RE A TEACHER!!!!!"<br />
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This angers me more than the people who cannot do simple tasks like drain spaghetti or peel an egg. The worst offender in my opinion is the dumb bunny who needs a Snuggie because she doesn't know how to use a blanket. A blanket. She has a problem covering herself with a blanket. I need to repeat this: She cannot cover herself with a blanket without major frustration and failure. This is probably why she needs to buy a robe and put it on backwards.<br />
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You know who else needs a cockpunch? That stupid fucking hipster in the Sam Adams commercial. The one who never tasted Sam Adams before. Why he never tasted it before, I don't know. Probably because he's a stupid fucking hipster and it's not PBR in a can.<br />
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But that's all right. You can be a stupid fucking hipster in your plaid pork pie hat if you wanna. Just don't try to sound like a smart fucking hipster by saying, "I obviously was selling myself short by not even considering this as a possibility." No, you were not selling yourself short. You were selling Sam Adams short. You stupid fucking hipster.<br />
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How about the guy that the worst thing that ever happened to him was that he had to leave work and wait in line at the post office. If that's the worst thing that ever happened to you, you need to STFU and go buy some more stamps. Although I don't find him half as rage inducing as the woman in that same postage scam commercial.<br />
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"Can you only get stamps? No, you stupid person. What a dumb question I just asked myself and ascribed to you so that I can talk down to you."<br />
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">HELP</span></b></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-52187229344138731552015-09-14T12:29:00.000-04:002015-09-14T12:29:26.008-04:00I Only Ever Leave The House To Eat These DaysA short while ago, me and hubby went to <a href="http://www.smorgasburg.com/" target="_blank">Smorgasburg in Prospect Park</a> and had a very lovely time. Almost everything we ate was delicious. Almost.<br />
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First off, it was a great day and a great crowd. Not to thin so as too look sad but not so crowded that a streetsweeper is needed in order to take two steps.<br />
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We went hungry. Don't see a need to eat anything before going to a smorgasborg, erm, burg. When we got there, we made a beeline to <a href="http://www.porchettanyc.com/" target="_blank">Porchetta</a> for a roast pork sandwich. This is NOT a picture of the roast pork sandwich. We were so hungry we scarfed down the delicious, delicious, oh so delicious pork sandwich which I didn't even think to take a picture of. I'm not sure what this is a picture of but it looks yummy, doesn't it?<br />
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I saw a sign for arepas. I LOVE arepas and had to have some. But instead of a delectable slice of fried cornbready and melted cheese heaven, I was given this . . . thing. <a href="http://www.palenquehomemadecolombianfood.com/#about" target="_blank">Palenque claims to be Colombian</a>, but they spell flavor with a "u". What self respecting American spells flavor with a "u"? These people ain't Colombian and that ain't no arepa. I took one bite and handed it to Dany. He was much more intrepid. I took two bites. We actually threw it away.<br />
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THIS is a corn and cheese arepa. A nummy, nummy corn and cheese arepa. Can you imagine throwing this beauty away?<br />
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Throwing food in the garbage made me hungry. Good thing there were a gazillion food stalls. <a href="http://bombaysandwichco.com/" target="_blank">Bombay Sandwich Co.</a> made giant samosas and mango lassi that were gobbled up posthaste.<br />
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It was now time for dessert. If you have read this blog before, you may remember the last time me and Dany were out and I <i>had</i> to have some ice cream, things did not end well for me. In fact, it all came out in the end. Explosively. Luckily for me <a href="http://alchemycreamery.com/" target="_blank">Alchemy Creamery</a> makes non dairy ice cream. It was almost exactly like eating regular ice cream except for the creamy part. I'da had seconds if it wasn't for the fact that I was finally stuffed.<br />
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We didn't get a coconut but we did spend quite some time watching this man swing his machete around like a Baby Doc Duvalier supporter. From far back in the crowd. And keeping a close count of his fingers.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZpxK9Vfwbyt-UpSwaKcs3hEzrGH8OqlgFdfhRBN-KbFqexp9lHD-IkEP_zJC-qKmWfoXhuRcM5plXRoesAFA29Sk7vOTI53RwQuZqbqb0O4gGGGcdlkEyhVbp6J3BFGtcyVGfyuncRs/s1600/P9060065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZZpxK9Vfwbyt-UpSwaKcs3hEzrGH8OqlgFdfhRBN-KbFqexp9lHD-IkEP_zJC-qKmWfoXhuRcM5plXRoesAFA29Sk7vOTI53RwQuZqbqb0O4gGGGcdlkEyhVbp6J3BFGtcyVGfyuncRs/s320/P9060065.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
And lastly, we did not rent a bike. This is a family sized bike. There were all sizes and we thought about it but the line to rent was about an hour long. I, for one, plan to go back to Prospect Park just to rent on of these and look like a complete dork.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-78366775788654903422015-08-31T12:22:00.000-04:002015-08-31T12:22:36.838-04:00Feeling Old? Here Are Some Buildings As Old As CivilizationSeriously only barely making one blog post per week but that doesn't mean I can't bore you with shit I find endlessly fascinating. Another data point that may be of interest: The worst I feel, the more I fucking curse.<br />
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Barnenez:<br />
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<a href="http://willy.anne.pagesperso-orange.fr/prehistoire/img-sites/barnenez-02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://willy.anne.pagesperso-orange.fr/prehistoire/img-sites/barnenez-02.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Earliest carbon dating for this site is about 4800 BC, out-dating the oldest Egyptian pyramid by 2000 years. Just so you know, this is how we was living just shy of 5000 years ago.<br />
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Gobekli Tepe<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLK4tE3obULgHQp_k-p-rS3AqVSj4b7mB-dR9nhD0LipbyvSTolg8DCE83rkOsASuHq6s61o6eL42YtfB_mll1mEol4prlsVsVnZxZ9BqTx3SdrL-tT_n4JnoDJ-ZPjOsvurc2ONMoAI/s1600/Gobeki+Tepe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLK4tE3obULgHQp_k-p-rS3AqVSj4b7mB-dR9nhD0LipbyvSTolg8DCE83rkOsASuHq6s61o6eL42YtfB_mll1mEol4prlsVsVnZxZ9BqTx3SdrL-tT_n4JnoDJ-ZPjOsvurc2ONMoAI/s320/Gobeki+Tepe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The digging guys-- who I have a romance all about if only I can get the freaking 1980's romance OUT OF MY DAMNED HEAD AND ONTO THE PAGE-- have dated this dig to about 7550 BC or so. My hypothetical romance dig dates long before this Gobekli Tepe. Don't worry. I'm not trying to change pre-history. Just trying to get some <i>boomchicka wow wow</i> in with the fascinating history of prehistoric digs. Also, my make-believe dig is in Eastern United States. A long way away from where this real site is in Turkey.<br />
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The Tumulus of Bougon or, even better, The Necropolis of Bougon<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQugYzZ14SrhPE8E0ftkuBa3t0c9xLmLkV6ofKoV1djUiiPcG4QysrtGoPwLAlcyZbUY6jZK6iRf9oKwDJ_rhxfq_JAYqvExCta1EeyNFqbjoVGVKcSEsE30ny3GtCUw_2SfyR3GD9wo/s1600/Bougon+tumulus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQugYzZ14SrhPE8E0ftkuBa3t0c9xLmLkV6ofKoV1djUiiPcG4QysrtGoPwLAlcyZbUY6jZK6iRf9oKwDJ_rhxfq_JAYqvExCta1EeyNFqbjoVGVKcSEsE30ny3GtCUw_2SfyR3GD9wo/s320/Bougon+tumulus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The earliest of these buildings has been dated to about 4800 BC and was found stuffed full of skeletons. More excavations in the French town of Bougon revealed even more building filled with skeletons. And arrowheads, broken pottery and beads. Which leads me to believe that the prehistoric French built sturdier houses for bones and garbage than they did for the living.<br />
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Saint-Michel Tumulus<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1tYWP-zLAC_VQjhlU5bEryELQRCAg_drjMyCWvyM_aE4vcE2554UvDPRcCrVC0YxY5vVMUBzpm4rKPk4_HY3DWOP7Xn9PC3xRrj1U3LRr1nr362Tn1Vg_C65aEcXzX6fIfknMdSsqmc/s1600/Saint-Michel+tumulus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1tYWP-zLAC_VQjhlU5bEryELQRCAg_drjMyCWvyM_aE4vcE2554UvDPRcCrVC0YxY5vVMUBzpm4rKPk4_HY3DWOP7Xn9PC3xRrj1U3LRr1nr362Tn1Vg_C65aEcXzX6fIfknMdSsqmc/s320/Saint-Michel+tumulus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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See? Another tumulus in France that survived from pre-history. Also filled with dead people. And don't be fooled like I was. This ancient burial mound is near Carnac, which is on the other side of France from Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy. Mound Saint Michel, Mont Saint Michel-- easy to get them confused. </div>
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See? Easily confused!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-1722378875403139082015-08-24T13:05:00.000-04:002015-08-24T13:05:04.092-04:00Totally And Completely BlockedCan't write. It's killing me. Gotta do it but words coming not at all. Imagine scene in head many times then words on paper go. But this not happening. Instead only pictures for paint. Romance and blog fall to wayside. I paint picture of dinosaur.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5-Gm0GgHAjbZfYHnZo5a2LFCaqeQxvNVS8yd1UvOQSA88qg6oxeeMvweAcd6w-p5EQwyVc0xWbdDPl3xvJR-8UtJYk3Svdn0ES1Z-9DR10e58-JKzkUCc91L2cgy08R9x2weoNEPK2I/s1600/T-rex.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5-Gm0GgHAjbZfYHnZo5a2LFCaqeQxvNVS8yd1UvOQSA88qg6oxeeMvweAcd6w-p5EQwyVc0xWbdDPl3xvJR-8UtJYk3Svdn0ES1Z-9DR10e58-JKzkUCc91L2cgy08R9x2weoNEPK2I/s400/T-rex.JPG" width="295" /></a></div>
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"Rawr" say T-Rex, "Asteroid destroy whole world. Michele no can write few ten thousand word. Michele be destroyed my asteroid!"<br />
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Michele now go stare at blank screen. Write maybe one hundred word. No word come. Michele wait for asteroid.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-25999964449543373882015-08-18T14:24:00.003-04:002015-08-18T14:24:45.518-04:00In Which I Pay Tribute To 80's Romance CoupleIt has been hot as balls stuck to thighs around here. Today is either the fourth or fifth day over 95 degrees. When it gets this hot, the tiny little electric fan on the computer table is very little use to me or my computer. What I end up doing is sitting down, sweating profusely after 5 minutes-- especially underboob, imagine I'm dying of heat stroke doing the strenuous exercise of moving my fingers across the keyboard and heading back upstairs to the only air conditioned room in the house. Trouble is, I can't write up there in the bedroom. The writing computer is the desktop downstairs. Upstairs is my Fire and my paints.<br />
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I hear that there are people who write novels on their Kindle Fire. To them I say, "How the fuck, dudes?" I can't even write a passable YouTube comment on my Fire. What I can do upstair, however, is paint. Right on my bed. Drives my husband batty. Here's a painting called Help!:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSO-gizGxvvdFISpaGt4y9daLKMJUtE6Ae4QgGB6AFto_1Cdu-vRto2zcn7ND__lWlSkv9dz_K77kTlMQFpE6ydvKPz4GRGyTS3zkJpXP67JCrZ2TzVnI6m-G-enDnyk6DAe3SbS2ze4/s1600/Help.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSO-gizGxvvdFISpaGt4y9daLKMJUtE6Ae4QgGB6AFto_1Cdu-vRto2zcn7ND__lWlSkv9dz_K77kTlMQFpE6ydvKPz4GRGyTS3zkJpXP67JCrZ2TzVnI6m-G-enDnyk6DAe3SbS2ze4/s400/Help.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yesterday I was feeling specially guilty for not adding to the 2,000 words I've typed so far. That's out of about 15,000 I need to finish this thing off. But I <i>was</i> thinking about 80s Romance. Problem was, I wasn't thinking about the hard crap I'm trying to get down now. It's really boring, early character and situation set-up that's bogging me down. Instead I was thinking of the ending missing chapters with the homina-homina bowchickie-wow wow. So I painted this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekIRibfd3EWR8QHpZ9S-iMpC0n6dSN2_6qSbdqRSmWxgyu3GG5gYjSuwR0LQrwZJESBzhBBwZJyHnyMFNRD4XGrPRsHcaTwc8zlYoJM_nv41nlj8TDOfhgS14lYEJdPoQJG0-VT_KgcY/s1600/80s+romance.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekIRibfd3EWR8QHpZ9S-iMpC0n6dSN2_6qSbdqRSmWxgyu3GG5gYjSuwR0LQrwZJESBzhBBwZJyHnyMFNRD4XGrPRsHcaTwc8zlYoJM_nv41nlj8TDOfhgS14lYEJdPoQJG0-VT_KgcY/s400/80s+romance.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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There was more wanted to impart to you all today but the sweat has dripped from my eyelash directly into my eye and now my eyeball is on fire like the rest of my sweltering body. I hear there is a cooler front making its way to us here in the Baked Apple. We should be getting some relief by Thursday night. I will be seeking relief right now by going upstairs where I won't die.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-45788598662730490692015-08-13T13:20:00.000-04:002015-08-13T13:20:03.023-04:00Space As I PromisedSpace painting is fun and easy. You should do it. Really. Here is a lovely young lady to show you a fast and easy way to paint nebulae.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OAcl3aYD4x8" width="560"></iframe><br />
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I tried this technique painting the bug nebula. Some call it the butterfly nebula but scientists call it bug and so will I. Here is a picture of the bug nebula taken by NASA:<br />
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<a href="http://www.nasa.gov/images/content/384572main_ero_ngc6302_full_full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.nasa.gov/images/content/384572main_ero_ngc6302_full_full.jpg" height="320" width="267" /></a></div>
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You can see why some call it the butterfly nebula. Anyway, here is my terrible rendition of the bug nebula:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPp5kLN5CtKcvzcLroYurESHmnscppUFOPTexzIWKJZNgl5t8kG-p-7QSVr1j5rfbkBaC1Z7cnMgTlj8kaFtafYVwQsL68EbgzUFZFG9gpU2MscN1QBZcVwaHSbEXP0k0Eij0xSD8Mq0/s1600/Bug+nebula.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPp5kLN5CtKcvzcLroYurESHmnscppUFOPTexzIWKJZNgl5t8kG-p-7QSVr1j5rfbkBaC1Z7cnMgTlj8kaFtafYVwQsL68EbgzUFZFG9gpU2MscN1QBZcVwaHSbEXP0k0Eij0xSD8Mq0/s320/Bug+nebula.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The green was supposed to be underneath the pink and red but the pink and red did not have the covering power. Still, so much fun to paint.<br />
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I also painted the Milky Way. I did not use the lovely Empathy Film's technique. I did sort of a free-hand, off the top of my head type dealie and was very proud of myself when two separate people knew it was the Milky Way on sight.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5o9WLhwP6SboELfmuRTeir-JkvSl965jRtRySoxrHIb_G2iYasGzq21ydwWAKNFOFqXhck0vMRkxyEpRuuhIt26IEFA1_7bgaoi45Pi-EREWicq4J7igTwvDNyzaAN7XH9WkJzvEg7A/s1600/milky+four.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5o9WLhwP6SboELfmuRTeir-JkvSl965jRtRySoxrHIb_G2iYasGzq21ydwWAKNFOFqXhck0vMRkxyEpRuuhIt26IEFA1_7bgaoi45Pi-EREWicq4J7igTwvDNyzaAN7XH9WkJzvEg7A/s320/milky+four.JPG" width="316" /></a></div>
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Here's where I point out that photographs of space paintings are non-representational. At least mine are. Some paintings look lovely in real life but take horrible pictures. Some are pieces of crap IRL but photograph beautifully. I could not get a good picture of The Milky Way to save my life. But this picture of the very, very bad painting of aurora borealis does not at all convey how awful this painting really is.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGt0cZkyimsD8YNdSk0FWN4TCXDhvpVadLpSX4RljUWQyO6ImtD3u2WDRGgh6NYRqfYMu8etg2lNzOGEspV2A-KjNqurPj5eeEYLWNPtB2N3j5fz90LR3nY9oQYd-QNnOH3Kg6ZiL2GTo/s1600/Nothlights+two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGt0cZkyimsD8YNdSk0FWN4TCXDhvpVadLpSX4RljUWQyO6ImtD3u2WDRGgh6NYRqfYMu8etg2lNzOGEspV2A-KjNqurPj5eeEYLWNPtB2N3j5fz90LR3nY9oQYd-QNnOH3Kg6ZiL2GTo/s320/Nothlights+two.JPG" width="242" /></a></div>
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This painting is worse than paint-over bad. It's burn the canvas bad.<br />
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I was waiting until I had the whole solar system down before I made a Space entry, but as I have mentioned, painting has fallen by the wayside while I struggle with getting down perhaps a grand total of 15,000 words in a very simple story. From Monday until right now at this very moment, I have gotten down 1872 words. I know because Word very helpfully mocks me with this fact every time I open it.<br />
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Now on to the solar system-- my second and third paintings ever were the sun and the moon. Don't remember which order. They came out nice. I must say, I've gotten much better at blending my shading since I did the moon. Still, I kinda like the stark rings around it.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigofFEOLjp0ss-JCGEuzF2qRcwEnWbioetUxKj073Ig_PV_OX1LhhlLzXk_Nd15xICIsQ1YAKiy2sEYVFPdjzBGas0aTei8jjudnT21GXxC9_Y1OKaDFEpG5AV8BE2phdXc9h52xcglLk/s1600/The++Moon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigofFEOLjp0ss-JCGEuzF2qRcwEnWbioetUxKj073Ig_PV_OX1LhhlLzXk_Nd15xICIsQ1YAKiy2sEYVFPdjzBGas0aTei8jjudnT21GXxC9_Y1OKaDFEpG5AV8BE2phdXc9h52xcglLk/s200/The++Moon.JPG" width="136" /></a><br />
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Since then I've been having astrological problems with my space paintings. Take Mars for example.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31efOqFbx7pVhyb53BWXEsnmrGgp2rieA06E4fPbVHkZpg3kDjfMLozu2T-JB5gXKtJswXwHS9TQQMRLaid2BaJ4FvgW50g8s3pMTpQyYlX2IRCFg8KcSoKtHsY7y2lXyRlex2qAqlr8/s1600/Mars+two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg31efOqFbx7pVhyb53BWXEsnmrGgp2rieA06E4fPbVHkZpg3kDjfMLozu2T-JB5gXKtJswXwHS9TQQMRLaid2BaJ4FvgW50g8s3pMTpQyYlX2IRCFg8KcSoKtHsY7y2lXyRlex2qAqlr8/s400/Mars+two.JPG" width="383" /></a></div>
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I painted stars in the shadowed part of the planet, as if you can see stars through Mars. It took me quite a while to figure out why, although my Mars came out pretty well, there was something very off about this painting.<br />
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My lack of an astrophysiology degree again rears it's stupid-ass head with Jupiter and Io.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfs-YWe8bwfvlyVaIfoLhbEcKBQ5qCZRI4j75mEuE0KAdppxHd1ImSqkwlapcedwIxctcyH5h7ouDS-0E6gTpzU9bamYCcgYjP_W7eNhUGs-JN35PK99p60Z2ZKSxoXEZ5kjG2jtWYZW8/s1600/Saturnnotneptune.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfs-YWe8bwfvlyVaIfoLhbEcKBQ5qCZRI4j75mEuE0KAdppxHd1ImSqkwlapcedwIxctcyH5h7ouDS-0E6gTpzU9bamYCcgYjP_W7eNhUGs-JN35PK99p60Z2ZKSxoXEZ5kjG2jtWYZW8/s400/Saturnnotneptune.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was supposed to be Jupiter and a very distant Neptune (why Neptune and not Saturn? Because I don't know how to paint rings), only that isn't distant at all. In fact, it's too close to Jupiter to be Io. Actually it is to close to Jupiter to live and far, far too large. What do I know about proportion and perspective? Apparently, about as much as I know about astrophysics.<br />
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As is evidenced by my Neptune's Moon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5PTuvZBqxHZrSshkXTAACbrnpU1oAYhul7QiBr86dQV2f0cOVKCFF57W2Gasm4mkpoaif4cbHB-_rf1oQUqSv9Hh6cQHOc247l1fK3CYXCgq7Lbs8N_1iM1wNmiV_hEtXc2dQa6jA9g/s1600/Neptune+from+moon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5PTuvZBqxHZrSshkXTAACbrnpU1oAYhul7QiBr86dQV2f0cOVKCFF57W2Gasm4mkpoaif4cbHB-_rf1oQUqSv9Hh6cQHOc247l1fK3CYXCgq7Lbs8N_1iM1wNmiV_hEtXc2dQa6jA9g/s400/Neptune+from+moon.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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What gave me the silly idea that it would be cloudy on Neptune's moon? This time I'm giving myself an out. Triton does have a thin nitrogen and methane atmosphere. So that explains the haze.<br />
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That's it. I don't know when I'll finish the solar system. After another 13,000 words AND I learn how to paint planetary rings.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-38235466367418556432015-08-12T11:45:00.000-04:002015-08-12T11:45:10.111-04:00Creativity Is Zero-Sum For Me So Therefore: TreesWhen I was a child I wrote. A lot. Didn't write for other people to see because that would be embarrassing, but I had notebooks and loose papers and snippets of stories all over the place. This continued well into my young adulthood. I got over being embarrassed and thought, hey! wouldn't it be nice if someone paid me for this? And that's when I realized nobody cared.<br />
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In my regular adulthood I discovered mosaic. This is where I found I had a love for boxes. If there was a plain box within eye sight, that shit was going to get covered in tesserae. I didn't write much, though. But I did make a beautiful mosaic box where we keep my deceased brother-in-law.<br />
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About ten years ago, my son gave me a how-to book, a set of tools and a box of beads and I started making jewelry. I love making jewelry and still make some on occasion. Right now, in my head, I have a pair of earrings inspired by my painting Honeybear.<br />
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Yeup, that's right. I no longer make heaps of jewelry because I started painting. A lot. I don't seem to do anything in moderation. In my computer I have folders just for tree and space paintings which I was going to share here once I painted all the planets and painted the perfect tree.<br />
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Well, now I'm writing again. From scratch and not re-doing old stuff. Which means the painting has fallen by the wayside and I may never get my perfect tree. So I'm sharing me tree folder with you now.<br />
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We'll do them in the order they were painted and see if I've made any progress.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-lKhdfjlTcgVtsxOktDEBKAuvcXXcLmPfJoxi-E38eojoTZjl-PDnaRxNI6mbL5yypy7AreokY31oZGHgjIgDcAsPzAWEBGjBjpWvfMIHD7khI696s5RTYobA82QtY4twJQnpLgRqwA/s1600/Trees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-lKhdfjlTcgVtsxOktDEBKAuvcXXcLmPfJoxi-E38eojoTZjl-PDnaRxNI6mbL5yypy7AreokY31oZGHgjIgDcAsPzAWEBGjBjpWvfMIHD7khI696s5RTYobA82QtY4twJQnpLgRqwA/s320/Trees.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
My first painted trees. I watched a tutorial by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyQ832N3sVc" target="_blank">Angela Anderson</a> and painted them. Not bad, I thought.<br />
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But I wanted to paint a realistic tree, so <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNJ5MKi7aPg" target="_blank">watched a lesson by Clive and did this practice tree.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QFTPAftOwAMpznprrXm5IPlRanlXhIq0AlVoJlhyphenhyphenABLqcBmMRxoO363JnnLacJ_Xy1JkYh0eCav_vuuTCw7TAmkZ-gUvPwDpLx0UNkDPM5Gq-ZUvWwkDce4N850OKZLqAijoftvUkOY/s1600/Night+of+the+Triffids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QFTPAftOwAMpznprrXm5IPlRanlXhIq0AlVoJlhyphenhyphenABLqcBmMRxoO363JnnLacJ_Xy1JkYh0eCav_vuuTCw7TAmkZ-gUvPwDpLx0UNkDPM5Gq-ZUvWwkDce4N850OKZLqAijoftvUkOY/s200/Night+of+the+Triffids.JPG" width="197" /></a></div>
Night of the Triffids (yes, that's supposed to be a walking tree) is actually me trying to figure out changing the value of a color using white and black paint. The base color is Ultramarine Blue.<br />
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The secret to Paper Birch is masking tape.<br />
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I really enjoy painting backgrounds. So much so that I don't want to ruin my background by painting over it. But this worked out well. I call it Tangletree. You Xanth readers will know what I'm talking about.<br />
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Now for a tree with leaves. Had a nice, stormy background. The grass is terrible and I was going for a wind-tossed look. Getting a little bit closer to the perfect tree.<br />
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Oh well, now we are a few steps back from the perfect tree. The canopy is far, far too small and didn't know how to correct it, so I named it Stunted Cherry.<br />
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Tomorrow I'll do my space folder, which is chock full of really terrible paintings. And some cool ones too. If you'll excuse me, I'll now go back to banging my head against a Word blank page.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-53920876907266563812015-08-11T12:31:00.000-04:002015-08-11T12:31:28.721-04:00If You Are of a Certain Age, Can I Ask You Some Questions?When I was a small child, the United States was going through a crazy phase. My abuela, who raised me, was pretty Old World. She wasn't about to answer these questions. So they stuck with me all these years. Perhaps an anonymous internet reader who is familiar with those olden, crazy times can answer a few of them.<br />
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1. Was Lyle Waggoner ever funny or was his total purpose standing next to Vicki Lawrence looking classically handsome?<br />
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2. Did Little Willie ever go home?<br />
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3. Did Peter Lupus ever speak in Mission Impossible?<br />
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4. Did you have to buy a pet rock or could you adopt a stray from the street?<br />
5. If you were really hungry, could you eat Baby Alive food?<br />
6. Did Gilligan's Island, I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched all travel Over The Rainbow like Dorothy did?<br />
7. Did grown-up, white, adult males wear plaid Sansabelt pants unironically?<br />
8. Was there a difference between Matchbox and Hot Wheels and did boys do anything with them besides stuff them in their mouths?<br />
9. Was I the only kid freaked out when Samantha re-modeled Darren's face?<br />
10. Loop or Ball?<br />
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Do you think you've seen enough of Lyle Waggoner? Have not seen any of Barbara Eden? Here's two bonus pictures for making it to the end of this blog entry.<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-88536320668325755382015-08-10T12:30:00.000-04:002015-08-10T12:30:16.038-04:00I Should Be Painting Less and Writing More80's Romance Couple have been left in the lurch. That's because I find writing difficult when people are around. Painting-- not so much. I don't mean blog writing or Facebook writing or messageboard writing, I can do that around people. Except for the blog writing, those things take no thought at all. Oh, I'm sure the people reading what I write <i>wish</i> I put some thought into it, but no. Pure fingertip diarrhea.<br />
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Now hubby has gone back to work and so should I. Painting-- FUN! Writing crappy romance novel-- work. But before I go back to work, lemme show you what I've been doing for fun.<br />
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This is Eye Without A Face because, duh! I rather like it. The paint color surrounding the eye is called Flesh. It is not the color of my flesh at all-- and that is after considerable darkening. Those paint makers know some pretty pasty people. </div>
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You do not know how many terrible paintings I can inflict on you. I even have series. One called Space and one called Trees. This is because I paint a lot of space and trees. Many, many of these paintings are very terrible. But that's for another day.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-57542200065731322762015-08-06T11:36:00.000-04:002015-08-06T11:36:31.349-04:00Girls! Girls! Girls!This entry came about because I recently called someone a Breck Girl and realized she was probably too young to know what I was talking about. So I posted a picture of a 1970's Breck Girl.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg7E0oNK9CbzJ4KQ74Z5r7aOGAq14MxzatEsm6lZd_pvqgsMwrH5X6fgoUuSL89uEbDQbjdA9VBLCHEWaylv74uvSG1Pxx13F7nQcKqPga5FAYVoAzyKC9WmI6DlGzTTk1wt2w8FxWdI/s1600/Breck+girl+blonde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg7E0oNK9CbzJ4KQ74Z5r7aOGAq14MxzatEsm6lZd_pvqgsMwrH5X6fgoUuSL89uEbDQbjdA9VBLCHEWaylv74uvSG1Pxx13F7nQcKqPga5FAYVoAzyKC9WmI6DlGzTTk1wt2w8FxWdI/s320/Breck+girl+blonde.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
Notice her paleness and her long, straight hairiness. This was typical of the Breck Girl. Usually blonde almost always white. There were 300 Breck girls starting in 1936. After a minimum amount of research, I've come to find out there were two black Breck Girls. I've found a picture of one of them.<br />
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Notice the lack of long, straight blonde hairiness. Fight the power, black Breck Girl!<br />
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This got me thinking about all the "Girls" throughout the last century or so. I went searching for my favorite one, the Mucha Girl. I LOVE art nouveau and Alphonse Mucha painted the (pronounced with a long eeee) art nouveau girls with long, flowing tresses and dresses. Plus flowers. art nouveau was all about stylized nature.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkrUupRr36jZdwZJ0TfjZTZUHRC01Jsu_QrWfKkFr-Y-cbMwX_abvxWrP4YRJGwp8DTDoGtfA99JAwhAgES-cZXp3U2uMdVGeU_oBHBtkBIX6ilSnFSsqOi0TkXe5q4aZIekY8vBiNGjs/s1600/Mucha+Girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkrUupRr36jZdwZJ0TfjZTZUHRC01Jsu_QrWfKkFr-Y-cbMwX_abvxWrP4YRJGwp8DTDoGtfA99JAwhAgES-cZXp3U2uMdVGeU_oBHBtkBIX6ilSnFSsqOi0TkXe5q4aZIekY8vBiNGjs/s640/Mucha+Girl.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Interestingly enough, Mucha died in 1939, just in time for the Breck Girl to be a thing.<br />
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These girls a cute and a little sexy, amirite? Well, they got nothing on the Ziegfeld Girls. This is one from about 1909:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaAPcfNhOQNxwizl-TOdXxs9qU-eccVtPMdkNwV3cno4RlvYP-ZbuRqTUDDc9nvOzZrFnDBRAmuk9ruvgW9qT2pp_rt6V14kEpSbamuSzqpEYL3NmSwGGT_7ppi7ALUViZSICeOPkXJo/s1600/Ziegfeld+Girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaAPcfNhOQNxwizl-TOdXxs9qU-eccVtPMdkNwV3cno4RlvYP-ZbuRqTUDDc9nvOzZrFnDBRAmuk9ruvgW9qT2pp_rt6V14kEpSbamuSzqpEYL3NmSwGGT_7ppi7ALUViZSICeOPkXJo/s400/Ziegfeld+Girl.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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Note her very close to nakedness. I didn't know women could get this naked in 1909. I thought their clothes were permanently hot glued to their bodies. Also, a minimum amount of research tells me the Ziegfeld girls arose from the Florodora Girls.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbsq9zz754ARCqtvWAeiozRDvy51jd45RC47sojqtei-nvv-Ui7yg8_tmkDjh0z-U8DVRxbz_MqAzQObuvtCac-LU4evSau-V0dEFSS1tgzaRmerOqW3alFm3VuRa6CUib01evyAZa5o/s1600/florodora+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbsq9zz754ARCqtvWAeiozRDvy51jd45RC47sojqtei-nvv-Ui7yg8_tmkDjh0z-U8DVRxbz_MqAzQObuvtCac-LU4evSau-V0dEFSS1tgzaRmerOqW3alFm3VuRa6CUib01evyAZa5o/s320/florodora+girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I knew of the Florodora Girls but didn't know they were a real thing. You see, I watched a whole lot of Our Gang (at the time I watched them, they were called The Little Rascals). In one episode, Our Gang put on a show. Alfalfa sang a terrible rendition of The Barber of Seville and the audience started chanting "We want the Floridories! We want the Floridories!" I didn't know they were chanting for this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29QrcA6dQL5McChvRLQnNYWrHhssj9PG0pz3ROfCAh5m7vRhjaoM3mMk0OCCSjg2FKvnkjYG9Ch9cv388ZIYJgTjQTI-te-f29GVvruF_9UR26rIAUsjMXems8klq32mOqpXRGiHjXvk/s1600/gibson_girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29QrcA6dQL5McChvRLQnNYWrHhssj9PG0pz3ROfCAh5m7vRhjaoM3mMk0OCCSjg2FKvnkjYG9Ch9cv388ZIYJgTjQTI-te-f29GVvruF_9UR26rIAUsjMXems8klq32mOqpXRGiHjXvk/s320/gibson_girl.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
Further minimal research (really, it's amazing what you can find out by typing words into Google) found that the Florodora Girls were in response to The Gibson Girl. Specifically to "loosen her corset". And if a girl ever needed her corset loosened, it was The Gibson Girl.<br />
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And here I ran out of Girls. I'm sure there are other types of Girls as they are pretty popular even now. I bet all of them find Jason Momoa pretty hot.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-66908053947484849932015-08-05T10:55:00.000-04:002015-08-05T10:55:45.587-04:00Starts Out Superhero, Ends Up Girlie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvusMyWWv1O3e86bFiFUOq3lWdups8do_inVnjKLjXD8WIKCRDOhk9Fl3dwCd9NJiP8YEtdjJHfjxoO_YdQVOCi9bg7yeNXYBE8nUo_3iEaWQg3uKHRhGqfpa4BV12umS4e0TIPMb7e8/s1600/aquaman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvusMyWWv1O3e86bFiFUOq3lWdups8do_inVnjKLjXD8WIKCRDOhk9Fl3dwCd9NJiP8YEtdjJHfjxoO_YdQVOCi9bg7yeNXYBE8nUo_3iEaWQg3uKHRhGqfpa4BV12umS4e0TIPMb7e8/s640/aquaman.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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This is Jason Momoa as Aquaman. Why the most beautiful man on Earth is playing the lamest super hero to ever have his own comic is a question for the casting gods. How Lisa Bonet escaped the Huxtable rape house and ended up married to him is a story for the romance writers at Penthouse.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVA1x6IPXuUc4bPVOyw5m2d0mW_ywI3_8m3E1CPoq6Bk1GQEtvCG9Kn9U6fFmTiulj5oVqd9zETzQu1lOaqMm7bpvfjfMBvuMFEbMrMoZw4fOl6TbVmpa_AMC9i8x5WCnSD3EGH9NBCE/s1600/jason+shirtless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVA1x6IPXuUc4bPVOyw5m2d0mW_ywI3_8m3E1CPoq6Bk1GQEtvCG9Kn9U6fFmTiulj5oVqd9zETzQu1lOaqMm7bpvfjfMBvuMFEbMrMoZw4fOl6TbVmpa_AMC9i8x5WCnSD3EGH9NBCE/s320/jason+shirtless.jpg" width="235" /></a></div>
Here are a few facts that you didn't know about the most beautiful man on Earth. In 2008 he got into a bar fight with a 21 year old guy on probation. Realizing he could not best him with fisticuffs, the young man decided he could bring him down and ruin his modeling and acting career by smashing Mr. Momoa in the face with his beer glass. After reconstructive surgery and 140 stitches in his face, Jason came back as Khal Drogo.<br />
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Those were his real dreads in Stargate: Atlantis. When they first hired him, the producers of the show asked Jason to cut off his dreadlocks but he declined. Four seasons in their weight was giving him headaches, so he cut them off. The producers did not like that at all, the fickle bastids.<br />
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He named his son Nakoa-Wolf Manakauapo Namakaeha. Apparently Lisa Bonet was too dumbfounded by his pecs to object.<br />
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Next time I'll do an entry on a person it'll be a hot movie chick, to even out the girlie.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-5803192100694040152015-08-04T11:30:00.000-04:002015-08-04T11:30:00.514-04:00Went To My Favorite Place, Had The Worst Time<br />
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<a href="http://www.thenauticalmile.us/" target="_blank">Freeport's Nautical Mile</a> is one of my favorite places to go and when Vacation Dany said, "Hey, why don't we get in the car and go to Freeport?" I was all over that shit like fish smell on a five day old catfish. I prepared myself for hours of spending a lot of money to see boats, hear live music and eat seafood-- three out of four things I enjoy doing.<br />
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Things started off badly. We parked in the municipal parking lot and wondered at the large gathering of perplexed women at the entrance. They were all gathered around the muni-meter. Muni-meter? We have to pay for parking now? Bummer! Oh but wait, it's only 50 cents an hour with a 14 hour max. Not a problem, I'm all for municipalities making a buck and taking care of business. 50 cents an hour was a very small price to pay. The only problem was was that they lied about the 14 hour max. The crowd around the meter formed because 1) WTF, meters?! and 2) Can I please have more than 2 stinking hours on this ticket, PLEASE!!???<br />
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The answer was "No." You can only buy up to 7:30 AND NO MORE! So we set our phone alarm for 7:20 so that we won't get our car towed.<br />
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That was frustrating. This calls for immediate ice cream action! Pipps it is.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcqj-9LXCQh28T022uWUUJxYMHFq97oDq10GpsuwWN7PdK-t0Tl4LVWfIVobfqlO0jQ3cUPK2tHlNxRxQX2XsVXTRdF9ZxSjhbAeH-mk8p5EZi-svgOst6i5QTAZsCvWPmDw80g9s3w8/s1600/Pipps.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcqj-9LXCQh28T022uWUUJxYMHFq97oDq10GpsuwWN7PdK-t0Tl4LVWfIVobfqlO0jQ3cUPK2tHlNxRxQX2XsVXTRdF9ZxSjhbAeH-mk8p5EZi-svgOst6i5QTAZsCvWPmDw80g9s3w8/s400/Pipps.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Homemade ice cream with a nautical theme. Whodathunkit? I ate my Graham Central with relish. Not the condiment relish, the adjective relish. Little did I know that my lactose was just about to get Fred Phelps level intolerant.<br />
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We meandered. I didn't get to a shop to buy some cheap sunglasses and we ended up at the Scenic Pier. That's the name. They couldn't come up with anything better. It is pretty scenic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-8pVzTwHj348LNNhTVAqzf-JEJ7wReaRBSng2ZxidipCBKPvFqeM9Zrdjt0eZyY0yluEtp-nBDewyPyDbV01Npxws2zdiIyZngdOXO_iHwvHNeLVvgRkrz4B286f1_YRFpB9nazlpI0/s1600/Beach+senic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-8pVzTwHj348LNNhTVAqzf-JEJ7wReaRBSng2ZxidipCBKPvFqeM9Zrdjt0eZyY0yluEtp-nBDewyPyDbV01Npxws2zdiIyZngdOXO_iHwvHNeLVvgRkrz4B286f1_YRFpB9nazlpI0/s640/Beach+senic.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Did some people watching. Got a shot of the best damned legs on the pier. Eat your hearts out, he's taken.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxBMzOOfXfp9LmDjVSY5bTreQUGAaOpNq6QCKYoiQKTam9lS-w7dryH6XAbhvXG6LiIotDrMc-snAEQspEg81s8Nh71MfoP_sdKtm1rFHvyx7guLvm1fm6LhvmoOthMjvQ-NSKx7VdD0/s1600/Beach+leg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxBMzOOfXfp9LmDjVSY5bTreQUGAaOpNq6QCKYoiQKTam9lS-w7dryH6XAbhvXG6LiIotDrMc-snAEQspEg81s8Nh71MfoP_sdKtm1rFHvyx7guLvm1fm6LhvmoOthMjvQ-NSKx7VdD0/s320/Beach+leg.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Also watched about a half a dozen young men move a massive amount of liquor, beer, projection screens and equipment onto this boat:</div>
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Party over here!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDX5u5bNF9RTbnuJKeTwU2hHGDWuFy6ATyxQ-2iNoaLH3Yd9vRX7SG68S_qc8qYnvuAPejjZcKPzqDS6bsPG_of-P7SQ3UCRX0cnKHTJX-KSX8ybXAXAn4mcP1G39vek1o33qQLEvF8dc/s1600/Beach+boat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDX5u5bNF9RTbnuJKeTwU2hHGDWuFy6ATyxQ-2iNoaLH3Yd9vRX7SG68S_qc8qYnvuAPejjZcKPzqDS6bsPG_of-P7SQ3UCRX0cnKHTJX-KSX8ybXAXAn4mcP1G39vek1o33qQLEvF8dc/s320/Beach+boat.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Spent a lot of time watching people frolic in the water and thinking </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkpvo2HhsahUf-I1QD1Jxb8wsG-2nMq1A5DPoP-PbwJzNgmv5zEo8x9gWF0JAPFzn6htW01FH1Qx2Bn54CtOzEwHgcUGm2ukpc5GDkx0f9mIm-CQNOZWcbpZw2Lw1tmQGfvP8HLMXowU/s1600/Beach+kayak.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkpvo2HhsahUf-I1QD1Jxb8wsG-2nMq1A5DPoP-PbwJzNgmv5zEo8x9gWF0JAPFzn6htW01FH1Qx2Bn54CtOzEwHgcUGm2ukpc5GDkx0f9mIm-CQNOZWcbpZw2Lw1tmQGfvP8HLMXowU/s200/Beach+kayak.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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There is one thing I really, <i>really </i>want to do. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkpvo2HhsahUf-I1QD1Jxb8wsG-2nMq1A5DPoP-PbwJzNgmv5zEo8x9gWF0JAPFzn6htW01FH1Qx2Bn54CtOzEwHgcUGm2ukpc5GDkx0f9mIm-CQNOZWcbpZw2Lw1tmQGfvP8HLMXowU/s1600/Beach+kayak.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFecIyMq3iVwhpqt4qFqd3TKWuMwj9ZPcX4XyQPcLcli6FylQY-4MprUYZH0PlmuvldiATBeUjOcfdr7Va51XniE_S8x5n6YF-xnHSANqp3CYzL-EBMCvQ9bh-g74YjE-xpsT6fqYWa5A/s1600/Beach+skiddo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFecIyMq3iVwhpqt4qFqd3TKWuMwj9ZPcX4XyQPcLcli6FylQY-4MprUYZH0PlmuvldiATBeUjOcfdr7Va51XniE_S8x5n6YF-xnHSANqp3CYzL-EBMCvQ9bh-g74YjE-xpsT6fqYWa5A/s200/Beach+skiddo.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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More than anything in the world right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOaMQnOc_Shc_ElGVcfl4rWzBqV64aPt1JY9IcaYzUEr9fgUMuoPII5DktaLyBbc2aBcKL3ljaZeWR15I4dzMeJWKUvlZx_OuJBB0qL1ersU5z_qHVOqpYEnQc1yGbLS20w1WOK9RutY/s1600/Beach+dog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOaMQnOc_Shc_ElGVcfl4rWzBqV64aPt1JY9IcaYzUEr9fgUMuoPII5DktaLyBbc2aBcKL3ljaZeWR15I4dzMeJWKUvlZx_OuJBB0qL1ersU5z_qHVOqpYEnQc1yGbLS20w1WOK9RutY/s320/Beach+dog.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And that is. . .</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySNbhe_oC80_w9-8Qs6ghyoUSOLKJu8V2ybzRbVXESupGP4eagTb7Y1F7Yii11A7QY4gHeliNsPCldywIwrqwOFcgwsqoMKbuo38lkD9OAhrTP76oYNM40JuDyI3jcP3PynaRss_spx8/s1600/Beach+tour.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySNbhe_oC80_w9-8Qs6ghyoUSOLKJu8V2ybzRbVXESupGP4eagTb7Y1F7Yii11A7QY4gHeliNsPCldywIwrqwOFcgwsqoMKbuo38lkD9OAhrTP76oYNM40JuDyI3jcP3PynaRss_spx8/s320/Beach+tour.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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To go to the bathroom.</div>
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It took the ice cream less than two hours to do it's evil work. I don't know why the ice cream decided to roil my insides. Perhaps it was the the graham crackers. Perhaps the Central Station. More likely the whipped cream on top added to the mayhem. But I really, really wanted to go to the bathroom in my house where I could be alone. But that was not gonna happen. Also, the alarm went off. It was time to feed the meter.</div>
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We walked back down the mile and passed this fun looking place: </div>
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And this sedate looking one</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn2KenaImSPJrQbG0do_F1ZVzlhC3bAWUogJlwgqWhNGy3ZNEYxU9vTnWJEBwDnMvGDVVLpOhc_qNpluifKAUPH9gdkeCMoF4AtihgFz0whNo7UO0QDkQPhODedhZMG_G6_sOnrbCsoY/s1600/Beach+paradise.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJn2KenaImSPJrQbG0do_F1ZVzlhC3bAWUogJlwgqWhNGy3ZNEYxU9vTnWJEBwDnMvGDVVLpOhc_qNpluifKAUPH9gdkeCMoF4AtihgFz0whNo7UO0QDkQPhODedhZMG_G6_sOnrbCsoY/s320/Beach+paradise.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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When we got to Otto's I had to stop. They have benches out front I sat and told Dany to PLEASE HURRY!!!!!!</div>
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15 minutes later our plan to go back to the fun beach party place were nixed because that's how long it took for Dany to mess with the damn meter. He did wrangle three hours out of it that time. But we weren't walking anywhere. We were going straight into Otto's so that I could BLOW THEIR BATHROOM RIGHT THE FUCK UP!!!!</div>
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But Otto's paid me back, big time. Firstly, the clams on a half shell were gritty with sand and pieces of shell.</div>
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Me to the waiter: Do you have hot sauce?</div>
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Waiter: There is cocktail sauce on the platter.</div>
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Me: Do you have hot sauce?</div>
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Waiter: Will Tabasco do?</div>
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Me: Yes, as that is hot sauce.</div>
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Secondly, Dany ordered the catch of the day with green beans and carrots. He was given a floured fillet on a bun with french fries. I ordered a broiled lobster with a baked potato. I did get a lobster.</div>
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Me: The catch of the day is a sandwich?</div>
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Waiter: That's how it comes.</div>
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Me: He ordered vegetables. I ordered a potato.</div>
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Waiter: Oh, that kitchen! I'll be right back.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnIwHPMYKTj28JSBdND4Yjb5iGlILKQz-11ddJ8trkRBFI2wTR8OP6ShTDCtcPsFj5pIkFoNFy10vj_CnF7o1k3oCj4VCQIg9POW6OvFdudXjpF-xKTXQ4Zccwnf3PpGb-PXmLKS3i24/s1600/Beach+dinner.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnIwHPMYKTj28JSBdND4Yjb5iGlILKQz-11ddJ8trkRBFI2wTR8OP6ShTDCtcPsFj5pIkFoNFy10vj_CnF7o1k3oCj4VCQIg9POW6OvFdudXjpF-xKTXQ4Zccwnf3PpGb-PXmLKS3i24/s320/Beach+dinner.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We did get to watch these guys dock right next to the restaurant and get served in their boat. Their waiter was far superior to ours.</div>
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Me: Thanks for the potato. Do you usually serve it unopened?</div>
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Waiter: Yeah, that's how we do it here.</div>
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Me: And with tartar sauce?</div>
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Waiter examines the plastic cup he just put in front of me: Oh hey, that is tartar sauce! Oh, that kitchen! I'll be right back.</div>
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Also, the lobster was like rubber. You're a sea food restaurant, how do you ruin fucking broiled lobster? The clarified butter did go good on the unopened baked potato. <a href="http://www.ottosseagrillny.com/" target="_blank">Otto's Sea Grill</a>, I would certainly go back there-- to shit.</div>
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Still, always pleasant to walk the mile and see the sights.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-zynwd2Z_FNQq1AOlTcBOq-QAR_2x87tZWnWm1kdzfJblq84Bji09nPKDl4RmQuenetmckkt2KtNF6wkW7YfKruufQEBzdc2Bl6zJcXNXJaxJVXkHgVPK2hI_IPCLnoMWDqZQ5CoL58/s1600/Beach+corner.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-zynwd2Z_FNQq1AOlTcBOq-QAR_2x87tZWnWm1kdzfJblq84Bji09nPKDl4RmQuenetmckkt2KtNF6wkW7YfKruufQEBzdc2Bl6zJcXNXJaxJVXkHgVPK2hI_IPCLnoMWDqZQ5CoL58/s640/Beach+corner.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-47568637966919117872015-08-03T11:29:00.000-04:002015-08-03T11:29:37.380-04:00America's Most TerribleHere it is just like I said. My terrible painting fails.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oX5tdo0APuWUw1RJ1Bdl_gOzRDfgI-CggXS5jMW7BqOC-yFJSbjkd-8y_bzqoE7OPzeW5a_t1Mtqzbc0O-Q1eqFKzB4-EACAMkrCZOjk8DeLOnWIKCxlhsBgD6q20LCRugBLgCd2zuA/s1600/Daisy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2oX5tdo0APuWUw1RJ1Bdl_gOzRDfgI-CggXS5jMW7BqOC-yFJSbjkd-8y_bzqoE7OPzeW5a_t1Mtqzbc0O-Q1eqFKzB4-EACAMkrCZOjk8DeLOnWIKCxlhsBgD6q20LCRugBLgCd2zuA/s320/Daisy.JPG" width="220" /></a></div>
First up is Cymbalta Daisy. With it's out-of-proportion petals and drab, depressing coloring, it was the first of my terrible paintings to get the gesso treatment. Only I didn't have any <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gesso" target="_blank">gesso</a> at the time so it actually got the white paint treatment. P.S., my son could not believe I painted over it. Had I known he enjoyed it, I would not have. Also, had I known this was the best flower I'd ever paint, I may have re-thought painting over it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJBienAv_pREJFZ6-RVEY8wuaSYqB1PFFp5PW0E_h9nHjKcckFgLtj4dJFyebbx0uyiFfnL91swaqLiPkz0miViw4Y_TscA8EMcTjt4xboEkgzu8En8deV5Of0zSCPLh1jLTjYcbBbAs/s1600/ugly+cardinal.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJBienAv_pREJFZ6-RVEY8wuaSYqB1PFFp5PW0E_h9nHjKcckFgLtj4dJFyebbx0uyiFfnL91swaqLiPkz0miViw4Y_TscA8EMcTjt4xboEkgzu8En8deV5Of0zSCPLh1jLTjYcbBbAs/s320/ugly+cardinal.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This terrible cardinal was painted before I realized you could trace shit. This is my attempt to free-hand paint a bird. I tried correcting his weird shaped body but all that did was leave a reddish tinge surrounding his stiff, oblong body. He has not gotten the gesso treatment yet but I plan on re-visiting the cardinal in flight and when I do, bye bye not-so-aerodynamic bird.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkDUJqSIxUG-xZX8DxkeRfS0cg0X8hbXzqY1GMFmp6V2P1roKpdb2WrB5CswMJQ9ATK8HcQGMV1XXq8PWJdT6kl3124-49kfe6iE7jR6oNbq6olESN4S3j8AKos_bYqHLXzQmDNoOiNM/s1600/Not+petals.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkDUJqSIxUG-xZX8DxkeRfS0cg0X8hbXzqY1GMFmp6V2P1roKpdb2WrB5CswMJQ9ATK8HcQGMV1XXq8PWJdT6kl3124-49kfe6iE7jR6oNbq6olESN4S3j8AKos_bYqHLXzQmDNoOiNM/s320/Not+petals.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
My attempt at one stroke flowers. This one I blame on cheap paint and canvas. The technique involves putting two different colors on the paintbrush and making a swooping motion to get a petal. The canvas was too rough and the paint did not cover well at all. This, of course, has been geeso'd and no one complained.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7th6-cqIM9iQIWhjGRvXQCsZPANUxUEeye2QkZkDub6YUKZxAQ4oUhym477XPfEOvQHg09rjY0SuJP8_F4-h0cw-p2Woc5RFs2XTdQQUbepKkGLQRs9b_Ha391BuDGOqssc1syrsC6M8/s1600/terrible+flowers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7th6-cqIM9iQIWhjGRvXQCsZPANUxUEeye2QkZkDub6YUKZxAQ4oUhym477XPfEOvQHg09rjY0SuJP8_F4-h0cw-p2Woc5RFs2XTdQQUbepKkGLQRs9b_Ha391BuDGOqssc1syrsC6M8/s320/terrible+flowers.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
My flower problems continue. These flowers were so terrible, I didn't bother to paint the stems. Some of the smaller brush flowers aren't too bad, but those large flowers are beyond terrible. I gesso'd the fuck out of this field of mutant daisies.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOjOzM5-TuEXSMqMbIMJWgMgZjN9ya7zQnr3uToEqJzC6BFfaHkdnhDTa2gMuF73dGLHBmv5BQSl_1h4cCr9vISvOJrzpRkfh4Ceb6Bi0-tYhPhFDenoRpjVFibdbolz6PrLJIcxIvSY/s1600/practice+tree+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOjOzM5-TuEXSMqMbIMJWgMgZjN9ya7zQnr3uToEqJzC6BFfaHkdnhDTa2gMuF73dGLHBmv5BQSl_1h4cCr9vISvOJrzpRkfh4Ceb6Bi0-tYhPhFDenoRpjVFibdbolz6PrLJIcxIvSY/s320/practice+tree+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This picture of my painting of a tree looks much better than the actual tree I painted. If you look closely, you can see the failed one-stroke flower petals in the background. This means I'm not only terrible at painting, I also suck at painting over paintings.<br />
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Believe you me, there were many, many more fails. I would show them all to you except I usually don't think, "Wow! That's fucking terrible! Let me take a picture of it." Usually.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8088674605610250261.post-939509145815159232015-07-30T12:39:00.000-04:002015-07-30T12:39:12.291-04:00Some Of My Least Terrible PaintingsAs I have mentioned before, I've been painting terribly. A lot. Mostly in the middle of the night because I'm so bad at it, it's a crime. Some of my paintings are more terrible than others. These here are some of the less terrible ones.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJvNcHhPxVOyCuBaXsp7h87cq82hUiaRsnByuJCwPIY6hFTQr0bqYQj5Fsk1C_mVQO51uyulGfV2rzFuVjfcuMJmoxwNe_yoATjP-NbjOrtAYbpLkSamASWFoSxiFvK29w6jxOSHVnzw/s1600/Coward.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJvNcHhPxVOyCuBaXsp7h87cq82hUiaRsnByuJCwPIY6hFTQr0bqYQj5Fsk1C_mVQO51uyulGfV2rzFuVjfcuMJmoxwNe_yoATjP-NbjOrtAYbpLkSamASWFoSxiFvK29w6jxOSHVnzw/s320/Coward.JPG" width="317" /></a></div>
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This one is called Coward (yes, I name my paintings. I have even started signing them. Someone has to take responsibility for this crap). It is called Coward because, when I started painting it I envisioned a dark, sunset-y scene with a flock of silhouetted birds flying across the sun but when I was done with the sunset part, I was afraid I would ruin it with birds. So I didn't paint the birds. Because I'm a coward.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHmSf4eb-iG6GLF219QCqv9hvdkdSiu2of3BazSUjqIsdTXE4wIWTHfVcMLAUk3b8DGfyNEblpNbLKJyWIAjTdISzyZY8eMV1Clpu2kYNF7A1KNG0W6zYaWmf8kd-ishsfcPgLairQ7s/s1600/Beach+wave+two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHmSf4eb-iG6GLF219QCqv9hvdkdSiu2of3BazSUjqIsdTXE4wIWTHfVcMLAUk3b8DGfyNEblpNbLKJyWIAjTdISzyZY8eMV1Clpu2kYNF7A1KNG0W6zYaWmf8kd-ishsfcPgLairQ7s/s320/Beach+wave+two.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Since painting from my own head was yielding such terrible results, I tried painting with step-by-step instructions from an expert. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/HoneyBmama" target="_blank">The Art Sherpa</a> would surely chastise me for calling my paintings terrible. But look at her beach wave and look at my Beach. The waves in my painting are just terrible.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGl1JHe97EuV7B46nI6YxUSuxyG_Er7Wl1eLnhUO9Xpj11jiv9-o_RKYg9BDDKrQKJ7itmTyZvJsgYgkcTj3FiixUJ59J9Q6b-Xj8HHCnJMNEdQCY_QkF6riQeieoa07w2YYNjZrwN1Jw/s1600/Mars+two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGl1JHe97EuV7B46nI6YxUSuxyG_Er7Wl1eLnhUO9Xpj11jiv9-o_RKYg9BDDKrQKJ7itmTyZvJsgYgkcTj3FiixUJ59J9Q6b-Xj8HHCnJMNEdQCY_QkF6riQeieoa07w2YYNjZrwN1Jw/s320/Mars+two.JPG" width="307" /></a></div>
Back to painting from my own head. Since I already had a sun, a moon and The Milky Way painted, I tried my hand at Mars. My terrible, terrible hand. After I finished it I realized that the shadowed part of Mars should not have stars in it. I am not only a terrible painter but a bad astronomer. Not <a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/bad_astronomy.html" target="_blank">The Bad Astronomer</a> mind you, but bad enough not to realize you can't see stars through a planet.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zZyhgXUvFLfKm7SeShEgclJPPfPDQREPIoiFwEefx94cPn7w3FzjqhHNfsDFLvkgxpX0lOoqY_Cf0cytbzg0Ae_9JWLPMWj4qDev2NLfJmYAQPeR8GF-3yR_n4pj0yQsfBv0L6qaOtQ/s1600/Moon+Cat+Two.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zZyhgXUvFLfKm7SeShEgclJPPfPDQREPIoiFwEefx94cPn7w3FzjqhHNfsDFLvkgxpX0lOoqY_Cf0cytbzg0Ae_9JWLPMWj4qDev2NLfJmYAQPeR8GF-3yR_n4pj0yQsfBv0L6qaOtQ/s320/Moon+Cat+Two.JPG" width="308" /></a></div>
Moon Cat shows that I was correct in being a coward with Coward. I had a nice moonlit landscape going that I originally wanted to put a cat in. When I was done with the moonscape, I talked myself out of chickening out and painted the cat. The terrible, lopsided, too fat cat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlRlxBuT9pumvI9Dy1T05o_A1wdYoMz23cQcX4HQWaeq6CdjiB0EjKu6MtDV8Im1PrRuUEulkvwEOHiIYR3-EhRilJOBJb7tlDNfVrqXk1qv1mI7z98rAqNPR70Te-71ENbYwR8jqcNM/s1600/Night+of+the+Triffids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlRlxBuT9pumvI9Dy1T05o_A1wdYoMz23cQcX4HQWaeq6CdjiB0EjKu6MtDV8Im1PrRuUEulkvwEOHiIYR3-EhRilJOBJb7tlDNfVrqXk1qv1mI7z98rAqNPR70Te-71ENbYwR8jqcNM/s320/Night+of+the+Triffids.JPG" width="316" /></a></div>
This is Night of the Triffids. Why did I paint this? I don't know. Alls I know is it can't be terrible because I made it up in my head so this is exactly what a night of triffids would look like.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXsc2GxvX5wLZMHvpvQkoQ5xdVlAbKrh0UZ_5OqJlInb0nf-aH0LrTeaP4qv0F7ScM-iak58x1Gbj2DJDtRnqlhdINJSK92wqkw_VC8Fu3NwS42atltCaDsU7Bg4N7Muq0TW4XnWnGp0/s1600/Paper+Birch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXsc2GxvX5wLZMHvpvQkoQ5xdVlAbKrh0UZ_5OqJlInb0nf-aH0LrTeaP4qv0F7ScM-iak58x1Gbj2DJDtRnqlhdINJSK92wqkw_VC8Fu3NwS42atltCaDsU7Bg4N7Muq0TW4XnWnGp0/s320/Paper+Birch.JPG" width="311" /></a></div>
This is Paper Birch. I don't have anything bad to say about it since I quite like it. Although two people thought it was a painting of bamboo.<br />
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Maybe someday I'll post pictures of my more terrible terrible painting. Maybe Charles Barkley will comment on their terribleness.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10124993466253044816noreply@blogger.com0