?

Log in

No account? Create an account
breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Today, the 100th strip of Digger went up! Wooo! 100 pages! And the mail is already trickling in, since it was, err--well, let's just say that this is a strip worth reading, since there's a rather upsetting development, and people are, to judge by the response, rather upset.

I had originally wished that this particular strip could fall on a Thursday so that we could cliff-hanger over the weekend, but p'raps in retrospect it's just as well.

http://www.graphicsmash.com/series.php?name=digger&view=

In other news, went over to friend's place, stuffed self at Memorial Day. Four varieties of beef. I am one with my inner bovine. Then we watched old episodes of "Have Gun--Will Travel" which was quite entertaining.

Still finding time around the edges of the work I HAVE to do to slap some pixels on this other painting. I have a theory. This is "The Three Kinds of Painting" according to Ursula. Some paintings you do because you have Deep Meaning to convey, emotional tour-de-forces requiring tourists (Hmm, "I'm a tourist on someone else's emotional tour-de-force" would be a good line for some highly specific set-up) and rich tapestries of personal symbolism to weave.

Obviously I have as little truck with these as possible.

And then there's the ones you paint because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe you didn't quite know why, maybe you just had to get that out of your brain before it ran amok, generally you're just painting it because "Ha! Cardinals! but like--cardinals!" or whatever your personal equivalent may be.

Most of my art probably falls in this category.

And then, of course, there's "Fear my l33t art!" art, which you do, generally in order to paint one specific part of the painting to prove that you can. And this piece I'm working on is definitely one of those, and thus should probably be subtitled "I can TOO paint checkerboard tile!" which is, needless to say, a bloody exhausting process, but there you are.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Today, the 100th strip of Digger went up! Wooo! 100 pages! And the mail is already trickling in, since it was, err–well, let’s just say that this is a strip worth reading, since there’s a rather upsetting development, and people are, to judge by the response, rather upset.

I had originally wished that this particular strip could fall on a Thursday so that we could cliff-hanger over the weekend, but p’raps in retrospect it’s just as well.

http://www.graphicsmash.com/series.php?name=digger&view=

In other news, went over to friend’s place, stuffed self at Memorial Day. Four varieties of beef. I am one with my inner bovine. Then we watched old episodes of “Have Gun–Will Travel” which was quite entertaining.

Still finding time around the edges of the work I HAVE to do to slap some pixels on this other painting. I have a theory. This is “The Three Kinds of Painting” according to Ursula. Some paintings you do because you have Deep Meaning to convey, emotional tour-de-forces requiring tourists (Hmm, “I’m a tourist on someone else’s emotional tour-de-force” would be a good line for some highly specific set-up) and rich tapestries of personal symbolism to weave.

Obviously I have as little truck with these as possible.

And then there’s the ones you paint because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe you didn’t quite know why, maybe you just had to get that out of your brain before it ran amok, generally you’re just painting it because “Ha! Cardinals! but like–cardinals!” or whatever your personal equivalent may be.

Most of my art probably falls in this category.

And then, of course, there’s “Fear my l33t art!” art, which you do, generally in order to paint one specific part of the painting to prove that you can. And this piece I’m working on is definitely one of those, and thus should probably be subtitled “I can TOO paint checkerboard tile!” which is, needless to say, a bloody exhausting process, but there you are.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

There was an absolutely furious yammering going on out on the deck--it sounds like somebody running a gravel-filled squirrel backwards through a rusty wood chipper. I finally got up to see what it was, and discovered a juvenile pine warbler clinging to the tree next to the suet bar, screaming/chattering its head off. A woodpecker had claimed the suet bar, and the juvenile's parent had been driven a few feet away to the railing, where it was waiting for the woodpecker to leave. The juvenile, however, was thoroughly freaked out, too clumsy or inexperienced to flee, scared AND ravenous, and didn't shut up for five minutes until the woodpecker finally stomped off (it's surely anthromorphizing to imagine him saying "Christ! I hate it when people take their kids out to eat and they scream the whole time!") and the pine warbler parent returned to pack suet down the shrieking gullet.

The number of babies that get brought to the suet feeder's pretty cool, though--I've seen woodpeckers, brown-headed nuthatches, Carolina wrens, and now the pine warbler.

And now, blessed silence descends...

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

There was an absolutely furious yammering going on out on the deck–it sounds like somebody running a gravel-filled squirrel backwards through a rusty wood chipper. I finally got up to see what it was, and discovered a juvenile pine warbler clinging to the tree next to the suet bar, screaming/chattering its head off. A woodpecker had claimed the suet bar, and the juvenile’s parent had been driven a few feet away to the railing, where it was waiting for the woodpecker to leave. The juvenile, however, was thoroughly freaked out, too clumsy or inexperienced to flee, scared AND ravenous, and didn’t shut up for five minutes until the woodpecker finally stomped off (it’s surely anthromorphizing to imagine him saying “Christ! I hate it when people take their kids out to eat and they scream the whole time!”) and the pine warbler parent returned to pack suet down the shrieking gullet.

The number of babies that get brought to the suet feeder’s pretty cool, though–I’ve seen woodpeckers, brown-headed nuthatches, Carolina wrens, and now the pine warbler.

And now, blessed silence descends…

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.