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Showing posts from January, 2011

How should an artist be?

Recently I created a set of ten cigar-tin stories for a collector in Toronto. Not only was this different because of the number involved, but also because she asked for the artwork to be done along specific themes. Making it a bit of an assignment (instead of my usual method of just pulling threads out of the air). And it was fun to do, these small acts of solving. And the collector was so excited and gracious when she got them that it made the whole effort that much more worth it. I mean, let's be honest: at $20 a pop I'm not in this to get rich. So it's always nice to hear from customers, and to know that you've added something absolutely unique to the corners of their homes.

heaven's prisoners

"It's okay," I tell Oona. "We all start out as prisoners ..." "... even daddy (and back in my day we couldn't even afford proper bars)."

baby, it's cold outside

A thank you note from my nephew Shawn. Because he's awesome. I especially enjoyed the alien spaceships, swarming around the Kong-like giant snowman. Apparently there is also a cat named "Tiggy" in there as well. * * * * * A very fresh (as in fresh hell) -24 degrees Celsius this morning, making the walk to work something of an adventure. The biggest problems are your glasses (which begin to fog and then frost over) and your legs (which go stiff). At a certain point where I knew I was done crossing roads, I just took them off (the glasses, not my legs) and went the rest of the way blind. As for the frozen thighs, that's just the cost of doing business -- I was already wearing long johns. What's next? Ski pants? Snowmobile gear? A space suit? The coffee I always carry froze into chunks. Which is still not as bad as you'd get in Winnipeg , where every winter day is colder than a witch's tit on Easter Sunday. * * * * * C has a sinus cold right now. It&#

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother

Well, we've come a long way from lawn darts and BB guns . Even farther still from those days in the park when a younger and (more) malevolent version of myself played "Rock Wars" with my friends (the rules? throw rocks, either eyeball-shaped or in impossible-to-avoid handfuls, at your opponents ... or just anyone in range). Ah, what a golden summer afternoon it was that we spent smashing bottles up and down the old highway. Now all the conversations go like this ... Me: So you had a good weekend? Friend: Oh, we had a *great* weekend! We *always* have a great weekend! Me: Uh ... always? You're never glad to get back to work? Friend: Oh, never! Never never never! I'm *always* sad to leave my kids on Monday morning. Me: Uh huh. My friend drives me a bit crazy with this at times, with this glorious-children stuff, with this forced-air system of inflated self-esteem. Everything is reasonable, and negotiated, and constantly fucking charming. So of course I've been

there are those who say i am not an optimist

girl in hat and gloves ; india ink on math paper. * * * * * More cascading brain failure for yours truly today, when Oona decided she was lonely and C decided to take on a full-out coughing fit, and they coordinated their efforts for a quarter after four in the morning . I had *tried* to go to bed early, getting that tired-deep-in-the-lungs feeling around nine or so, and C was out at Toastmasters anyway (if it's not a cult then what's with the secret handshake, and why is every 'speech' entitled "The Nighttime is the Right Time"?), and I was trying to avoid that total cognitive collapse that usually overwhelms me by Friday. No such luck. Soon enough I found myself setting the microwave for a minute-twenty-seven and then standing there, mouth open, watching that little bottle of milk go round and round. So yeah: today should be brilliant. It's not even ten and already I've got the kind of descending thoughts that must have scuttled within Boxer when

semi-permanent brain damage

This image made by the talented (and very weird) aleksandra waliszewska . * * * * * Well that was (not) fun. Woke up late this morning. An hour and fifteen minutes late. I've always hated this, even as a bachelor, but now with the Two Chickens it feels like a minor apocalypse, with all four horsemen running riot in my skull. To say my thinking was impaired is like saying that the Germans had some difficulties on the Eastern Front. Have you ever had a two-minute shower? I have. I've also left a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the fridge, and then walked three kilometres in -29 C without having had so much as a coffee. Warming! But I'm getting ahead of myself. * * * * * When I emerged from my two-minute shower, and came upstairs wearing my bathrobe like a toga because I couldn't find the arms, I asked C how we should "do this". "Well," she said, "I'll get Oona dressed as fast as I can and then you two can ..." "Uh, wait wait wai

distracted acrobatics

I've been making (painting) these cd books lately (you know: the kind you leave in the car, for all your 80's music); this one I gave to C at xmas. * * * * * It was just Oona and I this last weekend; C went up to Ottawa for some kind of Toastmaster's jamboree (?!). On the way to the train she said she was worried about us ... despite the fact that I do all the cooking and I'm regularly alone with Oona and I was, in fact, at home with her for four months this summer. We'll be fine, I said. And we were. And Oona really, really enjoyed the french fries I got from the drive-thru at Wendy's. The rest of the weekend had its bumps, of course, but these could usually be straightened out with a steady supply of Cheezies. * * * * * January is acrobatic already. Painting commitments for March and May, plus a spring show I'm planning with Susan . Trying to wrap up an illustrated novella (always one more change, one more twitch that needs to be worked out). A wh

snow is exhausting

Oona fell asleep while I pushed her stroller through a snowstorm this morning. Must be nice, the gangster life.

More Realistic Games for the Wii Fit

Early Morning Groan Roll Snooze Bar Elusive Dropped Shower Items Weight Scale Humiliation Baby Stroller Snow Push Death March Cubicle Slow Dance Broken Chair Posture Time Carpel Fun Tunnel Grocery Store Psychotic Episode Oona Ski Pants Wrestlemania Vegetable Chop Recycling Tour de Stink Alcohol Great Escape Tooth Brushing Your Spiritual Emptiness Full Body Collapse

some people need nothing and want nothing and are free

A journal I painted for C. * * * * * Big winter snow day, a clean slate in white and grey, and the perfect sort of day to give some serious thought to my New Year's resolutions. I've kept it to ten. 1} Be less like a North American male (read: fat) and more like a Japanese teenager (weedy, pekid and far too interested in comic-based adventures). C got a Wii Fit Plus over the holidays, then lured me into taking its body testing. When I was done, it informed me that I really needed to get down to 185 lbs, and then changed my avatar (or Mii) from tall and average into a fat little dumpling person. Thank you, Japanese dementoids: I haven't seen 185 lbs since highschool. 2} More spankings for Oona. This one I don't really have to do myself; I just have to hand her over to Auntie Catherine, who absolutely *loves* to dish out spankings. "It relaxes me," she says, rubbing her hands together. 3} Less pink eye. A tough one, but in this case I decided that less is