Some Oona drawings, lately. Spooky, ethereal ... an apocalypse in primary colours. Wonderful. But then she brings *other* drawings home, which are obviously not hers.
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Stealing? Not so good (at least wait until you're doing your MFA). But one of her daycare teachers gave her an out by saying that the kids sometimes 'exchange' or 'trade' artwork. Hmmm.
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Another reason for Fall: the smell of wood smoke in the dark.
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What do you call a donkey with three legs?
A wonkey.
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Here are some owls I drew for the invitations to Oona's birthday party.
Also: children's birthday parties are completely off the hook.
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There are some new things in the shop.
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A last note on this Syrian business, which has demonstrated, once again, how enervated the public discourse has become, how shrugging and turn-the-page. At least we could be honest about it. At least we could say: look, all we really want, for as long as it lasts (read: sixty years, then bust), is cheap electronics and lots of parades. THANK YOU. If anyone *really* cared about what a bad guy Russia is, then we wouldn't be sending all our millionaire athletes I mean amateur athletes I mean athletes to the fucking Olympics.