Signs of the Times

When we were growing up, we seemed to have this notion of New York being the most crime ridden place in the world - no, the universe... (Don't you love how kids do that) But this morning I was browsing the news on CNN and I read about a shoot out in Madison Square Gardens where the suspect had been shot and no bystanders were injured. (Talk about a Christmas miracle...) It reminded me of the all the violence my own family have been subjected to in the last few years, and suddenly it dawned on me: New York is a BREEZE!!! While driving home from church, some of my family got caught in the crossfire of a cash in transit heist - it was so bad, that their car was shot at - how those bullets managed to miss the driver is another absolute miracle.
Then there was the time Les got hijacked right outside the Temple... Okay, that was Joburg and we all know how bad Joburg is, but still - if I wasn't aware of it before, it's glaringly obvious now that crime is spiralling out of control in this country.
My hope for the new year is that where ever possible we can educate and focus the youth - if they have positive goals and are driven to make themselves better, there won't be room for getting up to mischief and crime. If only crime and drugs wasn't so damn glorified by the media - if only money wasn't so lauded by society and everyone could acknowledge that actually, there are some things worth more than money can buy...

Special Message for Viwe

I have to agree with you about the shirtless thing - as great as it was to see how hard all these boys worked to get in shape, they were all a little too obvious in their tatty baggies and no shirts. There was a lot of painful stuff to sit through!!!

Still moving...

Can you believe that we are still re-arranging and arranging stuff?? So yesterday I went and had a look for lace curtains. For those who don't know what lace curtains are - you are completely excused. NOBODY USES LACE ANYMORE!! Except for a few pedantic and ocd people who have to have that sheer covering (that eventually gets mouldy from the window being open unless you wash it once a month, and I'm not even keeping up with mount neverest, why would I possibly go and add to it??) Honestly, if I had a sandblasting machine, I would have done the windows in order to save myself the nightmare of trying to find acceptable lace curtains to certain family members who shall remain nameless (protect the innocent and all that..)
So, I go to PEP (!!) and I have my dark Jackie O sunglasses and the scarf to cover my hair (Just kidding - that would make me WAY too obvious - I walk past as if I'm going somewhere, then I trip into the shop like it wasn't actually meant to be...) And I find one OKish set of lace curtains and one positively hideous one that I think maybe I can sneak into a really small window in the new place.
Ha! Not a sausage of a chance... They walked in and it was though I'd poked them all in the eyes with toothpicks. Amidst wails of "No! Stop! What is that? Where are we?" I took the offending lace down and buried it so deep in the cupboard I knew there was no chance that I'd ever have to hear the wails again.
And so the rest of the family have banned me from shopping at PEP - or at least, banned me from buying lace - which is fine with me since I didn't want the blasted stuff in the first place... Aah, it was all a psychological ploy to rid us of the lace...
Anyway, the place is great apart from the brand new carpet that got flooded on Saturday morning - oh, you mean I didn't tell you about that?? Well, we set up the washing machine and the outlet pipe, but with the first rinse cycle, the outlet pipe rips out the sink and floods the bathroom, passage and toilet... It was ankle deep after only 20 minutes!! So Rescue Richard tips the entire laundry basket and all the towels we possess in an attempt to suck up the water from the carpet so that it doesn't stink. Needless to say, as furiously as we worked and slaved, the carpet smells ugh!! Fortunately Nanna gave us this amazing little gadget that sprays air freshener on its own. You set it for how many seconds you want it to wait before it sprays again and every now and then you hear a little sppprrrt as it blasts a boost of fragrant air! Of course, it's always good to be sitting on the loo when you hear it, since it scared the living daylights out of someone recently... We won't go there.
Last night I started painting the cupboards. I'm sure if we're all honest with ourselves and each other, we'll recognise that there are certain things we become a little obssessive about. Mine is cupboard interiors. They have to be a light colour and I abhor paper in cupboards! Unfortunately, I seem to have chosen a most inopportune time to start this whole laborious process. The weather has been unseasonably wet and cold and this new place is cold to begin with, so the paint (gloss) is NOT DRYING!! Much to my horror and the annoyance of all the family who are walking around sniffing and coughing and clearing their throats. So, I don't think I'm going to be popular this holiday...

The Move

It took only 3 hours to move everything into the new place. Wow! Kathy is amazing - I couldn't keep up with her! Anyway, it's taken us the past 2 days to pack stuff and rearrange and get everything organised.
Last night I went out with Vimbai and Yvonne to see New Moon. It was a little disconcerting having the entire movie theatre filled with tweenagers and it was even worse watching the movie with them since they were under the misguided notion that it was an interactive experience (I blame play stations!!!).
I was once again reminded why I read NM so quickly - skipping over all the pathetic lovesick schtickk between Bella and Edward. Of course, in the movie I was subjected to that whole dreadful ordeal in addition to really inexperienced or just plain bad acting...
Apart from Jacob, that is. If only the book had been written about the wolves! I loved every minute that Jacob and the pack were on the screen, it was so brilliantly done, I really enjoyed it. As for the beginning and end of the movie... Ho hum, yawn... Ok, Emmett was good - but could somebody PLEASE do something with Jasper's wig and constipated expression??? Somebody give that boy an eanama. (Don't judge me with the spelling - I've been up since 3am with Rachel)
It was great to get out and I was so grateful to Emma who played mom and took care of bath time, supper time and nursing when Rebecca cut her head open falling out a box... Don't ask. Rich was busy putting up curtain rails and lights and fans...

Sad Blogger!

I know I've been a dreadful blogger the last while, but trust me, it is far better than inflicting my morbid and uninspired writing on anyone!
Don't get me wrong, like most insane artists, I have moments of extreme happiness and exhiliration followed by complete downers. I'm trying hard to master the process of dealing with things that I can change and living with things that I can't change - and most of all showing grace under pressure.
I don't think that's working though! This has been such an awful year, I want to say I'm glad it's almost over, but I have a nasty feeling next year is going to be an equal match.
We are moving on Monday and that's going to be very very interesting. Hopefully that'll provide a laugh or two - if not a severe injury when someone drops the piano on someone else's toe!

The Windy City

There is one thing people love to moan about when it comes to Port Elizabeth: it's the wind. I really don't know why people move to a place called "the windy city" if they don't like wind. I mean, isn't the title a little bit of a hint as to what you're going to experience?? Visitors and residents alike constantly complain about the wind but I LOVE IT!
I love it because it hides the sins of society by blowing all the pollution out to sea for some other poor sod to deal with! I like it because it drives parents to scream at their kids in the parking lot: "You are never allowed to open a car door ever again!" I love it because when you're standing in it, you feel like you're riding a horse or standing on the front of a boat or something and it sometimes has traces of the salty sea air.
PE wind can be graded too:
1. There's the gentle breeze that tickles the tree tops and you barely notice it's there,
2. there's the playful tug on you and your clothes that is fine as long as you don't have kids who regularly tug on you not so playfully and end up wearing down your square shape of patience to a pea size ball,
3. there's the not playing anymore wind, that starts to annoy and irritate people, but this wind generally finds surfers and boardsailors smiling broadly,
4. there's the howling gail that makes surfers and boardsailors foam at the mouth and their eyes glaze over so that you know you won't possibly be able to communicate with them until 24 hours has passed.
5. and finally, there's the occasionally blow your skin back with the G's wind - which is rare, but exists...
Actually, as most boardsailors will tell you, the wind doesn't blow that much in PE - at least, not strong enough for them to enjoy it!

Recession Woes

Ok, so - I think I've been rejected by almost every gallery that is still managing to keep it's doors open at the moment... What a daft time to try and break into the market! But at the same time I have this "I told you so" feeling. I knew that this style and subject matter wouldn't go down well in South Africa, and being the mule that I am, I refuse to change what I'm enjoying and what I know works for me just because people are too intimidated by vaguely religious or even blatantly religious artwork. Come on! Rembrandt revelled in it - what are you so scared of??
So, I guess I'm destined to strengthen my character by watching everyone else sell crappy work while I slave away at my closet artwork. There's one more possibility which I'm reticent to even attempt, but I might have to just to appease the suburban mediocrity...
EPSAC is having an exhibition...
Now, let me describe an EPSAC exhibition: You have the hip artists - let's call them framer artists, because framers love their work and sell loads of it - they have fashionable "in" paintings that are the buzz of the moment, then you might have one or two who's who - the moderately well known artists, and then you have the garbage kitsch... oh my! These are artists (and I use that term with extreme generosity) with no formal training and no regard for technique. When I look at the work, I shudder as though someone has just walked over my yet to be dug grave, or dragged their nails across the chalkboard... It's the type of work you'd find an oriental or indian man painting in a large factory for very little money of a place he's never been to, but is trying hard to imagine it... (Somehow I think I've jumped on this hobby horse before...). And last but not least, there are the Sunday painters. These are people who view art as a hobby - like building model aircrafts or scrapbooking (Oh boy, I'm going to offend half my family with that statement). Their technique is equally horrifying as they transfer paint directly from a tube like making a withdrawal from an ATM, not even bothering to capture subtle nuances of colour by ACTUALLY MIXING PAINT!!
Now, call me a snob, but I cannot bare to put my work within a 5 mile vicinity of work like that. It messes with my karma and offends me horribly.
What a snob! No wonder I don't sell anything on a more regular basis!

Hello!!

Sorry everyone - we've had battles with our pc at home and viruses galore, so I haven't been able to upload any images. We're still in the throes of pc repair, so you'll have to wait patiently for my next lot of illustrations which I am enjoying soooo much!
Hope everyone is well, will keep you posted.

Siphiwe

Siphiwe and the Magic Stone

An illustration I did for a book called Siphiwe and the Magic Stone.

Design for Fabric of New Painting...

The scanner gave in after 2 scans, so this looks awful, but this is the gist of the idea. The colours aren't quite right - the background is going to be more of a mustard yellow than yellow ochre and the reds are supposed to be one red and one orange. I'll play around with the greens.

Mimi & Sisi Inc

Here they are at last...

Time for Change!

I thought it might be appropriate to select this blue template - not only have I tried just about every other template, but it seems to match my current "blue" phase. Ok, I think my blue phase is lasting way longer than picasso's - everytime I work on canvas the predominant hues are all blue!!!

So, it's time for a change. I've been doing more drawing than writing and the last couple of days have seen me develop and idea for printing on fabric. I had the idea of making this fabric and designing bags, then I thought - why just bags? these could be effective T-shirts. Then I thought, what about little books for small girls - very basic stuff, since the design you'll see is really basic...

The name started off as "girlbuddies inc", but after saying it a few times, it just didn't seem right, so all the girls in the family were in our lounge last night and we were discussing this and we came up with: "mimi & sisi inc".

Unfortunately, I can only load the images over the weekend, so you'll have to wait with baited breath til then!

Danger Pay

This morning dropping the children off at school, I recognised the need for some sort of danger pay as a parent dropping kids off with other crazy parents who drive like lunatics. My brother has lived in the US and England and the first thing he said when he came back to South Africa was how badly we drive. I have to agree with him. I think it must have something to do with the country's mentality or mindset about authority: 'authority? sorry? what was that? a new brand of washing powder? sounds a bit long and pompous for washing powder, don't you think?'
Not only do people ignore stop streets and traffic lights (which south africans affectionately refer to as robots), but I have seen drivers ride on sidewalks, swerve from the right hand lane - across three lanes - to the left turning lane, drive up a one way street and then reverse back out of it.
So, I'm thinking - I wonder when insurance companies are going to catch onto this whole thing and start charging higher premiums for parents driving within a 5m radius of schools.
You should see what these people do!! This morning I sat behind a person who had stopped dead in the middle of the road - not even bothering to pull to the side a little bit and guess what? It was a little grade one - so you can imagine the goodbye happening inside the car... eventually after about 5 minutes, the child stumbles out of the car with a suitcase almost as big as she is, and she clambers up onto the sidewalk. In the mean time, a couple of cars in the parking bays, are waiting with their reverse lights on while this twit is blocking their exit.
So, we drive a little further and hit the pedestrian crossing guards. No, not literally - although I did wonder to myself if the school ever had a really over zealous crossing guard who swung the stop sign and accidentally smashed someone's windscreen. I guess that's why they have the whistles...
By the time we arrive at the grade 6 entrance, there's a real genius who has pulled up onto the parking spots, but is parked horizontally instead of vertically, taking up 3 parking bays in the process... oh my goodness! I think I need a camera with me when I drive around - you wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen!
Everyone in PE is paranoid about swine flu at the moment - whether it's gastric flu or just plain flu, you can be guaranteed the chemist is going to tell you to get yourself tested just in case! I was listening to someone speaking about the concern if this hits the townships - poverty is so rife and HIV is already a pendemic, so if swine flu gets in there we're looking at a mammoth catastrophe. Apparently 15 people have already died in one area of India and since the health management in our country probably isn't a whole lot better, we'd be looking at this mortality rate and higher once it hits the ground.

The Artist Quandry

I wonder if it's normal to go for months and months at a time without picking up a brush? I don't think it is actually - I think that's probably the difference between artists appearing on Top Billing and artists tenaciously slogging away at an objective of some sort!
Whatever the case, I finally picked up the paintbrush yesterday. I did some finishing touches to my last two works and then spent the rest of the night hounding publishers via email. My next objective is to sand down some canvases and start producing some acrylic work in a different genre.
Halfway through my email list, I wondered if this action was actually going to bare any fruit - I mentioned my doubts to Richard who proceeded to give me a lecture on doing something completely different... (And now, for something completely different...) and that's when I was reminded that really - men and women are communicating on vastly different levels. Or maybe it's creative people vs non creative people??
Rachel sauntered over while I was busy and helped herself to a brush and water. She then proceeded to paint water in an old dictionary the girls had in their book shelf. It takes so little to make her blissfully happy. The creative vibe became contagious - Rebecca and Emma got stuck into their fabric painting to recover the cushions. They're looking really good. I had suggested we make covers for the lounge cushions because they're looking a little worse for wear. At first I watched them and thought... Hmm, maybe we'll just cover those old cushions at the back of the linen cupboard and keep them there until their 21st birthdays.... But now they're looking quite good! Mine are taking forever - but I am inclined to go a bit overboard with detail.

The Universe has a Sense of Humour

Last night Rachel was restless and sounded as though she wanted to vomit again, so I stayed up until about 1am to make sure she was ok.
So, we're rushing to get ready this morning and have the usual bickering between Emma and Rebecca and the usual yelling from mom threatening the next person who opens their mouth is doomed to ONE WEEK OF KITTY LITTER DUTY!!! TRY ME, GO ON!!!
Nostrils flare and smoke escapes my ears and I think the surrounding neighbours close their windows and doors - but that's ok, cos someone around us has an alarm that starts at 4am and finishes at 6am. Just wait until I get my hands on that poor sod...
So, we're all done and we race downstairs to get into the car and as I lift Rachel to put her in the car seat, I hear that warning cough...
Emma yells, "Get her out the car, Mom, QUICK!'
I grab her and aim her mouth away from the general direction of the car and her clothes when suddenly it rains baby porridge. Well, I pat myself figuratively on the back - that was a good save! Only, Rachel's not done yet - in fact, she goes and sticks her hand in her mouth when the next batch of porridge makes it's speedy exit... Sigh...
By this stage, Emma and Rebecca are hiding in the car, making noises like eyeww! and gross! I grab the keys, run back upstairs with Rachel who is staring at her gooey hand and muttering about how yuck it is and how she'd very much like to have that washed right now if you don't mind...
I managed to take 4 minutes to clean up and get back in the car and back on the road! I think that's a record!
After being down about the career and up again after realising it's not so bad, someone who was at Technikon with me was on TV last night. He is a BRILLIANT ceramic artist - I adore his work, but I can't help feeling the universe has a sense of humour that I'm not finding at all funny right now!

Humble Pie

I remember reading a quote that said something to the effect of: never compare yourself to others, there will always be greater and lesser people and you will either be inclined to think more or less of yourself because of it.
Well, Sunday gave me a real lesson in humility.
For a couple of weeks now, I've been moping around feeling miserable and hard done by, wondering how long my creative genius (ha ha ha ha ha ha) will continue to be stifled and suppressed as I subject myself to the suburban necessity of income generating work. I met a lady from Zimbabwe on Sunday and she told me a little bit about herself and her family.
I'm in awe of her and people like her - people who sacrifice and who face trials but never become bitter or angry and who calmly face whatever comes along with cheerfulness and unwavering faith. She reminded me that although things are really rough, there are people who are worse off - and no, that doesn't remove the problems I face - but it does somehow make it a little more manageable. And for some or other unknown reason, it gave me back a little bit of hope which I've seriously been lacking after so many disappointing rejections.
Even Rachel keeping me up all night didn't deter my more positive outlook!
P.S. Can toddlers who don't talk please come with a mini computer that when they're crying miserably at 01h30 you can identify why exactly they're yelling at you??

Ode to Terry Pratchett

I was horrified to learn that Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with alzheimers. I adore his work and I thoroughly enjoy the discworld characters.
I've just finished the reaper and am reading Jingo. I remember someone saw one of his latest books - well, for SA anyway! I think it was called Monstrous Regiment or something - at any rate, someone saw the cover which is slightly different to the normal covers and they brought me some books, thinking the author was in the same vein... The books were by Stephen King... I took them to the book exchange the next day! Stephen King is just not my cup of tea, thanks. If anyone knows anything about Discworld, you'll know that there's a guild for just about everything - a thieves guilde and assassins guilde, etc. So, in my feverish state of flu in the last couple of days I watched the news and discovered that there was in fact a "guilde" for unemployment! In Durban or is that KZN? a bunch of unemployed people looted two large chainstores of food and groceries. The representative of the Unemployed Association said that people were hungry - and that they weren't actually looting, they just couldn't pay for the food. ??? I wondered if reality and fiction were slowly beginning to merge, or perhaps the fever was slightly worse than I first suspected!
Where's inspector Vimes and Carrot when you need them?

Ridley gets Weird on us...

I watched A Good Year and I sort of wondered what the heck happend to poor Ridley Scott that he made such a bad, out of character movie. And let it be known that Russell Crowe was positively pathetic - apart from wondering when on earth he was going to shave that stupid dirty face hair off (I think we've discussed the whole issue of not everybody being able to carry off a goatie - well, the same applies to unshaven faces...). The awful hairy mugg made his nose look bulbous and growth like and as for those horrendous "hip" glasses... Evidently, Russell is just not meant to wear glasses as well as sport an unshaven mug.
The scenery is amazing, but lets face it - even the most absurdly inept photographer (if you look that phrase up in the dictionary, you'll find my name) wouldn't be able to mess up the Tuscan landscape. And, having been versed extensively in cinematography, one would sort of expect Ridley to come up trumps when it comes to capturing images and compositions - whether still or in movement.
I don't know if it was Russell's very poor attempt at an english accent that repelled me like citronella does the cats, but honestly - that english/australian drawl was even more laborious to endure than American actors making bad attempts at South African accents (Leonardo excluded).
I'd like to say I could sit through that movie again to soak in the amazing scenery, but I can't - I have some paint on canvas that I'd prefer to watch as it dries!!

Swine Flu

I heard on the news this morning that swine flu has jumped from 2 cases to almost 100 in about a month - maybe less. We're told not to worry since it's only people who have been travelling that have caught it... The number is somewhere around 96 but will only be considered an outbreak if it reaches 100. This sounds really familiar... oh, I know - wasn't this the whole story with Zimbabwe and the infected water and was it a cholera outbreak a few months ago?
I also heard they've discovered that the crime stats have been doctored and crime is really far worse in SA than we're lead to believe. NO! Really?
You might be wondering when we ever get any good news - I'm wondering pretty much the same thing...

Cars and Rain

Richard has a Ford Baki and I have a Ford Tracer - they're great green cars with low running costs but there is one annoying drawback: there's a manufacturing flaw in all these vehicles and the windscreen and some other unknown place I can't find yet in my car LEAKS LIKE A BUCKET! Up until a few weeks back, it wasn't a big deal because we seldom get rain and when we do, it's a maximum of two hours and then it stops. But here's the thing: Rich has this awful problem that when he pulls away or stops, a splash of water lands directly in his lap (how's that for Murphy's Law's aim??) and it's a little embarrassing when he gets out the car. So, when it rains before he leaves for work, he sighs resignedly and hangs his head low as he walks out the door!
Up until last week, I really only had the problem of a puddle developing under the petrol pedal, but last week I noticed in the pelting rain that the windscreen wipers weren't wiping the rain on the windscreen... That was when I realised it was dripping on the INSIDE of the windscreen!! Oh boy! The girls and I had a good laugh at that.

Laughing

Last week was a really stressful one, so it was fantastic that some friends visited on Sunday evening and we ate scones and laughed ourselves silly. The first thing was remembering the day Rebecca came home and kicked her shoe off, only to have it break the window and bounce back into the flat (we're on the first floor, which meant she would have had to run downstairs to fetch it!).

But then we got onto another topic - Richard bought a cat skin a long time ago and he always wanted to use it to freak someone out, pretending he had flattened the cat in the car! I don't think he got the opportunity. Rich somehow got onto the topic of cats being run over, talking about how the cat would have to run to the freeway and wait for an 18 wheeler - it took me a while to catch on that he was referring to the nine lives!! We were in hysterics... ok, maybe you had to be there...

My newest favourite Russian Author!

There's something about Russian authors that I really love, the latest is Sergei Lukyanenko. The book I'm reading is The Night Watch and I seem to remember a movie being made about this - and if I'm remembering the right movie, it was made by a Russian/Polish director producer.

It's a fantasy novel about vampires and like all my favourite Russian writers is beautifully crafted writing with pangs of melancholy and fatalism. But the weird thing is how history and politics influences even fantasy writing - it is such an interesting read. The day watch are the bad guys and the night watch are the good guys but they never fight - they merely keep watch over each other. When the night watch does something good, it automatically entitles the day watch to do something bad to keep the balance. (Ok, that's an embarrassingly simplistic paraphrasing...) The interesting part is how these night watch people act as a type of "security police" and when they come across vampires, they have to show their implanted tag which glows a luminous blue and this automatically relays any offenses or violations of their treaties and laws. It's amazing how that part of Russian history and social "programming" has such and ingrained effect that it even crops up in fantasy. It's as though that's the only way of life they know - being policed constantly. The story itself grapples with all the usual moral and ethical dilema's of trying to control and police people - especially people who haven't committed any crimes, but who harbour the potential for crimes. I'm onto Story Two, but if I hit any "oh no, why did the writer feel the necessity to shove that in??" parts, I'll be sure to make another blog entry and let everyone know as soon as I've shut the book.

I once read an Anne Rice book and it started out so brilliantly - the synopsis on the cover sounded so revitting - recalling my rusty knowledge of Egyptian and Mesopotamian art & architectural history. But the story turned out to be a complete disappointment. Not only did it feel like she was dragging the story out to fill a page number quota that her publisher had insisted on, but it became evident that her publisher had also insisted on a little M&B scene just for the masses.

What an Amazing Weekend

I had the most brilliant weekend. On Saturday I sat and read with Rachel on my lap - well, sometimes on my lap, other times climbing all over me like a monkey on a jungle jim! Or is that gym?? I finished two books inbetween Rachel's climbing. Anyway, today was pretty laid back too - since there's a public holiday tomorrow, I took today off and we ended up going to the chapel and letting the kids play sport in the hall while I sat and worked on a painting and Rich did some work and met up with the elders quorum president.
I've been writing for the last few hours - working on Salt Water and listening to a stream of CD's that have gathered dust for a while. I'm listening to my favourite song by Midnight Oil right now: Now or Never Land. I love that song it's got a pacific island feel to it. I hope nobody was imagining I might be considering beds are burning... Blech! If it wasn't for Earth and Sun and Moon, I would probably abhor Midnight Oil. It's amazing how music affects what you're righting! I was listening to a BYU Men's choir and when I went back to read what I wrote, I doubled over in fits of laughter! It was like reading something from the Baroque era. (Baroque: a style of art - if memory serves me from around the 17th-18thC - very grandiose and overdone) But it worked in the story and while this flow of writing might stop as suddenly as it started, I am finding the story exciting to write at the moment.
I don't actually see myself as a writer - I just have these stories that keep seeping out and I really just want to get them on paper. Even if they're never published, I want to have them written down - from start to finish.
I have a good idea of the outline, but as I write, things keep happening - unexpected things that surprise me and that amazes me about writing. In art you plan something, draw it out and more often than not, it's pretty much what one expects - there aren't any surprises. Unless of course the kids knock over a bottle of dirty water or the cat runs through paint and then leaves mucky coloured paw prints all the way across your very expensive paper! I love how the characters suddenly do something that you don't really expect them to do and the writing becomes like a living organism existing on its own with the most amazing magical feel to it. It's wonderful.
I don't know if it's just me, but I'm finding increasingly that I can predict stories and what will happen. I'm not sure if this is a result of reading a lot, or being older! It's like you don't have to read the rest of the story - and for me that's an OCD thing! Mind you, there are still one or two that have surprised me. I have to watch the end of a movie or read the end of a book. It's essential for me to see how the creator of a piece envisions the end of the story... The only movie I have not felt the need to endure to the end was Napolean Dynamite - sorry Joanne! That movie was awful!

Who Can Find a Virtuous Woman Series

Broken Telephone

So, I think it's time for the family to be taught some telephone manners... On Sunday someone phoned for Richard, but he was in the bath. The person was trying to get hold of someone in the ward and asked if Richard knew why he wasn't answering his cell. Rebecca had answered the phone and made the fatal error of speaking to the person on the other end, and then calling the relayed message to Rich without putting her hand over the receiver, or putting the receiver down. Anyway, at one point, Rich called to Rebecca that the individual was "in bed" and wouldn't be going to church. So, Rebecca says to the person on the end of the phone "my dad wants to know if he's dead"!!!

Branding...

Swaziland is debating on passing a bill that will make it legal to brand HIV positive people on the butt...
So, a woman phoned in and told the DJ that her dad got a bit paranoid about Gert van Rooyen (who was kidnapping kids) and he BRANDED THE KIDS on the butt just in case!!! Come on!

So, if there was any doubt...

On the sabc news tonight we had an expert economist announce that we were officially in a recession. After Trevor Manuel did his best to placate everyone into a false sense of security (did anyone actually believe him??) the powers that be are now finally admitting to the crisis. I don't suppose this has anything to do with the fact that the denials happened before the elections and the truth is now being exposed after the elections...
I'm mildly irritated by people who lie blatantly and badly (sorry, Trevor - you fall into that category) The other day we went and had a look at a really old house that looked ok from the street. Oh my goodness! The walls were so badly affected by damp that THEY WERE CRUMBLING!!! And the estate agent was burning incense in just about every bedroom. What the heck does that tell you??? So he tells me the price and I burst out laughing - I couldn't help myself. I tell him as politely as possible that I wouldn't be prepared to pay half of that, so he nonchalantly tells me how much the renovated house next door went for - just to give me an idea of what houses in this area go for. So my friend asks casually, when was that house sold? And he replies, about a year ago. A year ago houses were being sold for R50-100 000 more than they were worth. I guess the poor guy is desperate to sell - he did mention a couple of times that it was an urgent sale.
So, at the moment, my imaginary dartboard has an image of Trevor and the estate agent and I'm mentally throwing darts at them - hmm... maybe I should rather put them in the stocks and throw rotten food at them...
Heavens no! We're in a recession! Pick up that rotten food and can it!

A special Message for Kings & Denae

Some Germans on the pier tried to convince Emma to write "Thomas" instead!

Congrats Kings and Denae!!

Adverts from the 70's and 80's

Hey missy, your stones chirp got me thinking about some of the adverts we were subjected to in our youth...
Remember the Rama soft ad where the guy butters a brick and takes a bite? I seem to recall some kid trying it and ending up in the Dentists chair!
And how about that pantihose advert?? "If you're as big as a house, small as a mouse..." I don't even remember what the rest was or what the pantihose were!
I suppose the fact that television was still very much in it's infancy accounts for the appalling viewing. My children can't believe we sat in front of the TV at all. But then, I feel pretty much the same about Sponge Bob Square Pants - Come on, Joanne - that is just not funny. Ed, Edd and Eddy I can still muster a giggle or smile here and there even if it is a little gross at times, but SBSP really isn't funny. And I don't hear the kids laughing.
Remember how the whole family used to sit in front of the Cosby show and everyone would be in fits of hysterical laughter?
Either TV has lost it or we have - I can't be sure which. Maybe it's both.

Beefing Up Bowls and More Kidney Stones

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Missy, that beefing up bowls really got me!

I forgot to mention that the week after Richard's last stones were lasered, he continue to complain about being in pain. We all rolled our eyes and told him to get on with it and then on Saturday morning, 15 minutes before we left for the cricket, HE PASSED ANOTHER KIDNEY STONE!!!

So much for concluding the kidney stone saga. Who goes straight to cricket after passing a kidney stone, anyway??

The Mountain goes to a Cricket Match

The Indian Premier Cricket thing is going on at the moment and against my better judgement, I went with Rich and Emma while mom looked after Bex and Rachel.

First let me just say I have no business attending sports events... I seem to bring this bad omen where ever I go... I attended a volley ball tournament and a guy collapsed on the court with a heart attack, and at the cricket, a few rows away, a woman collapsed with a heart attack. A coincidence? I think not...

So, they have a DJ at the cricket and we arrived 2 hours early to get good seats and for those two hours, the music reverberrated through the stadium and I watched the structure suspiciously, wondering how well the architect did at school and whether he was any good at calculating the endurance and resilliance of the materials he was working with. Then I began to wonder if he knew the effects of bass and sound on materials. That got me thinking about Joshua and what pitch the trumpets were at to collapse the Etruscan walls to dust... (Or were they Phoenician? Or Babylonian?)

So, as I'm fretting about the structure collapsing and being trampled to death, my mind then wonders onto the fact that cricket has to be added to, to make it interesting. Then I got to wondering how dumb and inattentive the organisers actually thought we were that we had to have a blaring DJ, a bunch of girls trying to be cheerleaders (Denae, you would have laughed yourself silly) and fireworks everytime a team hit a 4 or a 6 or ran someone out. I was just wondering where the Bollywood dancers were... And I also began to wonder if anybody actually came to see the cricket... There were rather large groups gathered around the cheerleaders who's routines looked more like pole dances than cheerleading routines - and in case any of you are wondering how I know what a pole dance looks like, IT WAS ON OPRAH!! So, they're standing around taking pictures, and as I walk past from the loo, I notice THEY HAVE FISH NET STOCKINGS ON!!!! Eyew!

In case you assume I was a complete wet blanket, I was the only one in the family who stood up for the really bad Mexican wave!

My headache finally subsided yesterday after a couple of strong tablets! The cricket was on Saturday...

Developing Work

The first painting is a quick sketch of a new character called Khagiso. The second painting is more work on the Talents painting.

The Kidney Stone Conclusion

So, if there was any doubt before, there's definitely none now: I am not nursing material. Rich went into hospital and had the stent removed and the last 3 stones lasered. I arrived at the hospital as he came out and I helped him put his clothes on. This time the pained expression was more from the wedgy he got from me dressing him than the actual pain he was experiencing! Anyway, eventually he has something to eat and the tray with the food hovers above his groin area.
Rich asks feebly for me to "lower it" and I assumed he meant the tray with the food on it, so I press the lever but forget to put my hand under it to stop it from slamming down at high speed...
His eyes rolled back and he let out a few groans. Then I establish that actually he meant "lower the bed". So I hunt for a lever to lower the bed and his eyes pop open in horror and he says, "Just leave it."
Eventually, the nurse walks past and I ask her to show me which lever lowers the bed and in a terrified start, Rich says "No thanks, I'm fine!" his eyes are still enormous...
So, I guess it should be no surprise then that this morning instead of phoning me to come and fetch him, HE WALKED HOME!!!
Sigh, I meant well, you know.

Voting in SA

So, I got my "little" black smudge on my thumb that resembles a painful slam in the door, but I'm really disappointed to find the ANC has no real opposition. I was really impressed by the arguments of COPE's spokesman in a debate the other night. He was the only opposition who wasn't finger pointing. He spoke of practical problems that weren't addressed and the need to address them while all the others talked wide berths around the point... In spite of the lack of performance, the country is still not ready to vote a different party into government and are quite willing to continue living in squalor and poverty while the upper echelon reap the benefits of policies that suit the wealthy and well connected. So, what can you do?
I believe education is a huge key, but also we need to get rid of all intimidation. This morning in PE one of the COPE representatives was shot to death in his lounge by 3 assailants who got away in a vehicle with ANC stickers.
Not to mention what goes on in the rural areas...

The Burning Lipstick...

Ha ha! Denae, I breezed through your blog and the make up entry reminded me of an experience I had. I might have told you this one...
I was sitting watching TV one evening and I saw an advert selling this lipstick. I didn't catch the whole advert, just the bit about getting a free mascara with this amazing new lipstick. So, I went of to the shop that was advertising the special, found the lovely colour that suited my skin type, and didn't bother to put it on in the shop since I don't fancy putting that tester near my mouth thanks very much.
Anyway, I get home, go to the bathroom and put on my fabulous new lipstick. I walked down the passage (which isn't a long way - it's a short passage) and the overwhelming burning sensation starts searing my lips - and I don't mean just a little tingle to tell you it's working - I'm talking deep heat, vicks kind of burning... I race back to the bathroom and start removing the offending specimen - which doesn't really help, since although the colour is gone, it's still burning like the dickens...
That evening, as I'm sitting considering if it's actually possible for lipstick to be rotten to the extent that it burns the living daylights out of your lips, I see the advert again and this time, I watch really carefully - undivided attention time.
It turns out, the lipstick has collagen in it, for fuller, plumper more kissable lips. Hmm. I think this might be just the thing for me. Richard is inclined to call me snake lips at times and this sounds like something I could really use... Of course, then I start imagining Goldie Hawn in First Wives Club and I take myself back to the bathroom for a test run.
So, on it goes again, this time I prepare myself for the searing fire and I wait for the "plumping". Well, after an hour, I realise that I'm going to have to be happy with the colours that suit my skin type and burn like the dickens for at least the first 10 minutes of wear...

So...Am I going to have to walk to hospital again?

Ha ha! Thought that might grab your attention! While everyone was settling into a chocolate frenzy on Friday and the town resembled every Sunday from the early 80's, (No shops were allowed to open on Sundays in SA) Richard was writhing in pain and agony as he struggled with yet another bunch of kidney stones.
We live around the corner from the hospital and a few years back when the kidney stones started, Richard phoned me one morning to come and fetch him from work in the 8am traffic. I was due to see one of my students off at the airport - he was off to Kenya for 2 years and I got moderately het up at the thought of a major detour in the opposite direction of the airport. So, I finally got back to the flat and barely screeched to a halt (the car might have been still moving as Rich collapsed out the door...) and I told Richard to wait at the flat, I'd be 15 minutes. He moaned dreadfully and I told him to stop being such a Nancy and wait at the flat. I knew if I dropped him at the hospital, I'd have to stand and fill out forms as he sat on the chair all grey with his eyes rolling back...
Well, I raced off to the airport only to see Mawande's aeroplane glide smoothly into the glaring white sky. By the time I got back to the flat, Rich had walked to the hospital and do know that he milked that one...
When he tells people he had to walk to the hospital with kidney stones, they look at me completely horrified...
It takes one minute with a walker, man! There's an old age home around the corner too and the old folk often take a stroll to the doctor in the medical suites attached to the hospital.
So, as Richard sat quietly in a corner with beads of sweat at his hairline, he asked rather pathetically, 'So, am I going to have to walk to hospital again?'

Thanks Missy!

An Innocent Abroad the Net

A few weeks back I got an email in my junk box that said something to the effect of: Have seen your work and like what you do, we have a site you might want to join because there are jobs going that would definitely suit your work. Oh, my goodness! This was tantamount to offering a dying man in the desert an oasis of bliss hosted by a suspicious fantastical figure...
Obviously there were a number of warning signs - but let's face it, when you are in the desert of your career, producing work quietly in an encapsulated tomb in the hopes of producing a big enough portfolio to KNOCK THEM DEAD when you finally have your solo exhibition, the last thing your hopeful little conscience does is pick up on the indicators of a scam as your excitement swells to ludicrous proportions in the hope that this is your break - finally!
Well, I eagerly went and joined the site before checking out the jobs and the people on the network - then I went and checked the jobs and suddenly it became glaringly clear that this individual who had sent me the email (which I'm sure was a generic) had no idea what my work looked like...
Besides the fact that some of the jobs that were posted were laughable, "Looking for someone to make me a jersey like Princess Dianna's from the 80's" (Ok, not that bad, but close...) the supposed "business people" on the network looked more like talent scouts for movies that don't get to the video store, nevermind the cinema... Including a very suspicious looking person calling themselves Oprah Winfrey... Hmm.
The final straw was when I got a friend request from a guy in India who looked like he was trying out for a part in Baywatch.
And I thought Facebook was bad...

Talents & Therapy

So this is Talents and the Therapy painting - the therapy painting is inspired by a colourscheme of african design and patterned mosaics - I'm still going to include a beige and blue in that design, the Talents painting is still in the very early stages and needs a couple more layers. The background I've ignored for the time being, but I'm contemplating a subtle less detailed pattern - the type of pattern that is made on the floors of the huts.

Prelim Therapy Painting

I've been feeling a bit jaded by people and circumstances that seem unjust around me and somebody suggested I vent my frustrations through a symbolic painting... So, here's the prelim drawing.

The Profitable Servant or Talents?

Painting titles are still a work in progress for me.

Hi Missy

So true!! But does repeating the mantra instill belief eventually? Kind of like you don't really want to paint and you start working and eventually as you work something brilliant happens? Or having someone repeatedly tell you something and eventually you actually believe it?

The Profitable Servant

What a surprise - with a lot of pent up anxiety and stress and frustration, I worked on the new painting this past weekend (In between coughing up a lung and trying to look sympathetic as Rich suffered more kidney stones). I managed to get a good few hours in on Friday and Saturday night - packing up around 1am and only dozing off an hour later.

Rachel has thankfully recuperated from broncitis and I'm getting there. I think the weather is really aiding and abetting the perpetuation of illness though. It has been appallingly hot in spite of the cool mornings, and the inclination is to put the fan on which doesn't really help the already infected!

So, I had a discussion with Nan in which we spoke about internal critics. She told me the adage "you're your own worst critic" just isn't true. I agreed, since I know someone who is a much worse critic than I am. She went on to say that she never critisizes herself and I was surprised at that. I gasped, Really? I'm awful - I always look at the work and think it doesn't look professional enough. Nan yelled NOOOO!!! YOU MUST LOVE YOURSELF AND YOUR WORK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!!!
So, I'm to repeat vehemently: I LOVE MY PAINTINGS! I LOVE MY ART! It sort of reminds me of a tongue in cheek litho print I did when I was studying: I combined a self portrait with a picture of an artist from the 70's holding up a sign that read: I'm a Real Artist.

I've been thinking about Norman Rockwell this weekend. I was thinking about the subjects that he painted - the old fashioned virtues and neighbourliness - and how he did all that in a little studio in New York City. I wondered if he painted those subjects as a longing escapism, or whether in the midst of the violence and decay of the city he was witness to small, innocent scenes like that.

Almost Weekend!

I have one painting looking at me forlornly from the corner of the room - I say painting, since that is what it will eventually become, but at present, it's more like a hazy colour outline of what will be! I tried to do some work last night, but I managed to do one pot in the painting and that was it. I haven't really thought these colours through and I haven't worked on a painting for more than 3 months, so I'm really forcing myself to soldier on.
The thing about having a lull or block or whatever you might have, is that it seems to sort itself out if you just sit down and work. Someone once said to me that you have to produce bad art at times to get to the good art. (Anybody ever seen Leonardo's St John? It's supposed to be one of the worst paintings ever - you won't find it easily. I still think it's brilliant - so there goes that theory) Maybe it really isn't bad art after all - maybe as the artist, you're just so critical of what you do that everything you put down just looks bad. Actually, that pretty much describes a lot of what I do! Talk about being your own worst critic.

Good Movie

I have never been a Leonardo da Caprio fan - he just seemed to be a bratty little boy that squealed a lot - but I have to confess, my steadfast and immovable opinion of him is changing. It started with Blood Diamonds.

Imitating a South African accent without sounding really stupid is a feat very few actors have accomplished - even Denzyl Washington couldn't manage it. In fact, if I think about it, I really can't think of any actor who has pulled it off. I remember watching one of the Lethal Weapon movies with the SA baddies in it - when they spoke, the whole audience erupted in laughter - it was such a bad attempt... But ol' Leo got the accent down REALLY close. Richard and I looked at each other in amazement. The other great thing is the character - he's real and self serving - the true nature of man and he plays the part with gritty conviction. Even his "turn-around" - the process of him opening himself up to more than just looking out for himself is convincing - it's not the Hollywood unrealistic "I've seen the light even if it is just for the end of this movie" and usually that kind of momentary conversion just doesn't ring true.

So, when I got a movie for Richard yesterday, I noticed he was in it and thought, well, the last one wasn't so bad, may as well try this one.

The movie was called Body of Lies and the language is not for the faint hearted. The story is brilliant. Leo's character is once again a realistic portrayal of a man working in Iraq. He knows and understands the culture and is one of those poor abused men in the ranks - "working on the ground". He sees everything that his boss conveniently doesn't and he gets to do all his dirty work. It reminded me a little of the movie Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal acted in about the wive of a muslim who is falsely arrested and detained and tortured because he had a cell phone call with a man whose name was the same as a known terrorist. That movie dealt with the futility of torture, proving that a man will say anything if he is tortured. That's a really simplified summary, by the way. Body of Lies is pretty much about the Americans going into Iraq where they don't know or understand the culture and what they're dealing with. (Remember Black Hawk Down?) It touched on the efficacy of the Jordanian police or special forces. It's written by David Ignatius. He's been a journalist in the middle east for 30 years. He met with a top CIA official and asked him who was making a difference in the war on terrorism, the guy immediately said the Jordanians and he was told some stories which started him on Body of Lies.

The movie is by Ridley Scott, who I really enjoy.

So, between the movie and the normal Saturday run around, Emma's ear drum burst and she's rolling around in agony, Rachel has acclimitised to the bed (but won't sleep there in the day time) and I'm preparing a little get together to celebrate the exhibition and prize giving on 20th March. I'm thinking of having a Mexican theme for some or other unknown reason.

Heat Wave Continues

Holy cow it is so hot. I don't know if it's just me, but I do notice a marginal drop in the temperature of the wind or hot breath that follows you around like an over eager dog... I am so ratty this morning! It's hardly noticeable, I know... Unless you're my family, of course.

We put Rachel in a bed last night. What a daft idea. I woke up growling at everyone, snapping at them and asking irritably whose bright idea it was to put the baby in the bed. Actually it was mine, and rather have sleepless nights now than in 6 months time when she's sleeping through the night. Who am I kidding? This kid will NEVER sleep through the night... Well, that's the way it feels right now anyway.

So, when she finally fell asleep with Rich at 8pm last night, I thought - oh great! that wasn't so bad... Ha! By 10.30 - 11.00 she was up again, walking around with her 4 essential items: the bottle, the blanket, the furry cat (not the real one) and the dummy that everyone tries really hard to pry from her mouth. I eventually got out of her room at 1.30am - and I felt like those guys from WWE must feel like the morning after. Now I know why there was so much banging going on in the bedroom at night! That kid is like a puppy who can't find a comfortable spot... You know how they scrape the blankets and make circles for hours before they eventually collapse? Well this kid was rolling around, kicking her legs up and down, kicking me in the back and flapping her legs over me as though I were the edge of a swimming pool and she had her feet in the water. The best was the occasional head butt as she sat up and then threw herself down. She really loves doing that - I'm amazed she hasn't broken her nose yet. At one point, I'm convinced she was lying there, squeezing the teet of her really worn out bottle and squirting milk in my face. Like the kicking wasn't punishment enough for wrenching her from her little safety cocoon in the cot.

Sigh! So, this morning I was a gruesome sight (I really feel sorry for the people I work with...) with a temperament to match. And then a friend sent me an email of the shark in the harbour... Yes, this is the same harbour that Emma swam in 2 weeks ago. Oops - I'd better ensure that Emma's Nanna doesn't read this... I have a sneaky suspicion the shark is a great white. Gulp. So much for sailing lessons...

Did I mention I also forgot my friend's birthday? Unforgiveable!

My hair is reacting strangely to a couple of bad dye jobs - Rich keeps looking at it and shaking his head. Then he asks ever so politely: Can't you do something about that eastern european look?

Growl.

Good News from the US

I got the news that my work has been selected for a purchase award last week - although thrilled, I was a bit disappointed when I got the instructions on where to go for the opening of the exhibition! I don't even have a passport!
I have to chuckle when I consider that my paintings travel more and see more people than I do! Other than that, life continues in the sweltering heat (what happened to February being the hottest month???) and with the insane politics in the background. I heard an economist say the next quarter for SA is looking more positive - I have to wonder if that's his way of saying the glass is half full... We'll have to wait and see.
Emma might be sailing in a regatta next weekend. She really seems to have the knack for it. Thanks dad for passing that along!

Ah...

Today I was driving behind a biker and I really had to chuckle to myself. Every year we used to have something called the Buffalo Ralley where bikers around South Africa met in PE and have a raucous weekend somewhere on the outskirts of town. Countless bikers fight a losing battle trying to declare the innocence of bikers and their intentions. After all, we can't paint everyone with the same brush is their argument. Not all bikers are rough looking, rough mouthed and rough mannered. Well, this biker went and tarnished their fragile argument in one foul swoop. I don't believe he was actually South African - the number plate was completely foreign and his dress didn't smack of the local leather supplier... The obscenity on his jacket wasn't enough to stop me smiling at a flood of memories from the 80's. His hair was long and spiral permed (or maybe that was natural??) and it reminded me of my dad and my brother listening to Iron Maiden, Kiss and some German named Ingve Malmsteen. I preferred Joe Satriani, but my dad only acquired that taste a couple of years before his death - better late than never, I guess. I never got the whole heavy metal thing - and waking up to a screeching Australian on a Saturday morning didn't do much for my liking of ACDC. (Although, I have to confess, I did know the lyrics to "Sink the Pink" and I confess I actually did sing along) But one thing was synonomous with these characters - the long spiral permed hair that was essential for throwing your head back and forth jerkily enough to make all chiropractors grin gleefully at the potential fortune to be made from these old men desperate to cling to the last glimmers of youth and infamy.

If anyone remembers Iron Maiden, you'll remember the posters with Eddie - how on earth Wayne managed to sleep peacefully amongst all those posters is still completely beyond me. Anyway, so the biker has this clash of 80's and modern biker gear. Not knowing anything at all about motorbikes (except how to ride a scrambler) I couldn't say anything about the bike apart from the fact that it was bright yellow. His pants and boots caught my attention, thought. He had bright red pants - so the overall impression was of a primary coloured heavy metal freak... His pants were multi zipped which had me wondering if he had a MacGyver kind of supply in his pants, you know, nuts and bolts in this pocket, leatherman in the other... Then I thought that would probably make his pants too heavy and as odd as it might seem to me, this guy was seriously about image. His boots reminded me of a very strange boy named Jacques in my 2nd year of art studies. Jacques was very quiet and always dressed in black and he sort of slinked around the art studio tentatively making as though he was stalking you and about to act out the shower scene of psycho... Actually, I think he was acting out psycho... He was a brilliant artist though. He was focused and had direction and produced the most amazing stream of work that linked together with real professional integrity. He produced photographs, prints and paintings of industrial scenes and derelict buildings. Jacques wore boots like the biker. I wonder what happened to Jacques...

Anyway, here are some more doodles.

Movies

I watched the Village for the first time a couple of weeks back. I am so bowled over by that movie. What a pleasure to see the amazing cinemagraphic little masterpieces in various scenes not to mention incredible story and beautiful, meticulously crafted characters. I'm inclined to dislike fads: if there's an actor that's "hot" or a movie that everyone raves about, I find myself avoiding those things because I don't want to be influenced by popular demand. So, I knew the story of the Village, but it was such a treat to watch that movie.
I was riveted by the scene where everyone hides and calls for her but she stands holding out her hand for him and from that moment he always holds her hand.
And his speech on the porch when she asks him why he is sitting on her porch... o my goodness!
There are a few actors I would not like to run into in a dark alley - they have a sinister kind of aura or countenance. Joaquim Phoenix and Christian Bale are some of them... But I have to admit, that Phoenix boy can act.

Dusting the cobwebs off the keyboard...

I can't believe it's been such a long time since I visited my blogspot, nevermind actually writing something!
Aside from the disastrous consequences of the global recession reaching our neck of the woods - factories/plants and numerous businesses closing or on short time - the year has started out slow but is picking up.
Here's a message especially for Trixie: I consider myself a professional artist - I don't know if others would considering I don't earn a living from it! Every year I begin with the overwhelming hope and enthusiasm that this year will bring the break that will allow me to ditch all other income generating jobs and devote myself entirely to the pursuit of artistic happiness and tranquility, this year is no different! I have recently sold work to galleries in the US and had paintings published in magazines. That was really exciting.
My paintings take a long time in between motherhood and the 3 jobs I juggle, so I have this constant dilemma of doing the paintings that I love which take at least a year to complete and producing fun little doodles to try and make a break in the more commercial art side. I have millions of ideas for artwork, but the limited time means only the tip of the iceberg is exposed. I am somewhat challenged in the marketing area - I am shy and really really bad at selling anything... In fact, I end up giving paintings away to friends and family. So, that's about the gist of it. I love painting portraits too.

Thanks Viwe! Got the rest and I'm looking forward to this new year - hope your new year started out well.

Thanks D - you're a star!