People are always telling me that my work is too dark. So I've put up this sunnier story, but even it has a shadow, as its original publisher – a fine Atlantic Canadian literary magazine called the Gaspereau Review – is no longer in business. ---------------- It was a simple enough thing and that thing was simply this: Edmund Kelley was a gentleman. Of course his mom called him her 'little gentleman', as in 'Oh Edmund, you are my perfect little gentleman,' which did seem to hold to a certain logic that these type of things often follow, considering her affection for him and the fact that he was, after all, only ten years old. Still, Edmund himself was not particularly fond of the diminutive aspect of that title. Gentleman was enough; gentleman summed up the whole thing rather nicely, thank you. He was definitely a more refined version of your average child. He lived in a state of perpetual Sunday m
Draw things, paint things, write things, make things.
is that a unicorn i see? fantastic.
ReplyDeleteHa-ha. very funny and sweet! Enjoy!X
ReplyDeleteWas she out observing the buffalo before doing the middle one?
ReplyDeleteVery paeleolithic
a true artist is born!
ReplyDeletecan mummy cook more often please?
ReplyDeleteHolly: it could be. It might also be the cops.
ReplyDeleteAnna: Thank you, but on a whole other level it's rather worrying.
Kaz: There are no buffalo here, only bikers.
Astra: Either that or a mental patient.
Lulu: She could, but we'd need more insurance.
True artists start early!
ReplyDeleteInspiring...the middle piece looks a bit like Pollock, and I can not help but wonder if he had someone cooking at home.
ReplyDelete