Note: The image I had previously posted here has been removed at the request of the creator of the source material.

I try to contact the artist when I use some part of their artwork in my work, to let them know what I’ve done, to give them a chance to see it in the context I’ve put it in, and to give them a chance to say “no thank you” to what I’ve done.

In this case, the artist does not want me using their work, and I am removing it from this blog and destroying my file of the original piece to comply with the artists’ desire.

This is an open offer to anyone who sees something that they believe is their image being used on this site without their permission. Notify me, I will take it down.

End of transmission.


It is a bright, sunny, breezy day. The wind chimes are banging around, making a klonky, beautiful sound that mixes with the mad, insistent birdsong that seems to be emanating from every hedge and shrub in both the front and back yards.

The whole fucking world is alive.


I think I might have to stop at Dick Blick’s in the city when I pick up the Woman on the Verge and get me some more canvases.

I have to learn how to paint. I am not color-blind, exactly, but I’m color ignant. I don’t know how to work it. It’s like music for me. I can sure appreciate it when it’s done right, but I can’t make it happen myself.

But I can paint in monochrome. Until I learn.


Being off work and just doing art makes me greedy.


Also, I think I have ruined the bulldog.