Illustration Friday: I Spy...

There are many things in life that make no sense to me, and now that I live in Arizona, I find most things to be a bewildering blur of excess. I did a book last year on the theme of the Seven Deadly Sins. Each "sin" had a person peeking out from behind an illuminated manuscript inspired framework. This one happens to be "Gluttony." I wonder what he spies from behind the border of his page? He reminds me of the guy in the Hummer in front of me that refused to let me merge.

People here are enormously wound up in appearances, be it cars, clothes, or hair color. A friend who is developing the tiniest streak of grey tells me someone had remarked how confident she must be to wear it.

If grey hair is indicative of wisdom and confidence, I must be Yoda. *

Buy some art. You know you can afford it, and I need the money. http://stores.ebay.com/Natalie-Schorr_W0QQsspagenameZMEQ3aFQ3aSTQQtZkm

The Joy of Paint

I am painting my house just now. Usually, I paint with very muted, unobtrusive colors, kind of like my drawings. Now that I am here in Arizona, where the landscape is pretty muted unless you are just really into brown, I decided to spice things up a bit and use some real colors. The kids are responding very well, although my husband has yet to see what's going on. I'll be interested to see his reaction. I also thought I'd do a few drawings in color, which is really stepping out for me. They are still just drawings of dead people on trash, but maybe someone will take a risk on one. I hope so.

And if my husband hates it, I can always repaint. *

Both are available at http://stores.ebay.com/Natalie-Schorr_W0QQsspagenameZMEQ3aFQ3aSTQQtZkm

Illustration Friday: Total

I am on a diet. While this is not really news, as I am perpetually on a diet, I am trying to take this one very seriously. Since my surgery, the list of what I can't eat is almost larger than the list of what I can eat. No popcorn, nuts, seeds, berries, etc. Because I am supposed to take in some phenomenal amount of fiber daily, you might guess that my diet has become mostly vegetables. That's OK, as I like veggies, but the amount I need to eat to get the requisite daily fiber count is making me totally crazy. When my husband came in and found me drawing tortured turnips and onions, he backed slowly out of the room. I guess I can't blame him.

I have a tendency to exaggerate. *

http://www.cafepress.com/ottoblotto?pid=8246890 See me here

Illustration Friday: Wired

Like most Americans, I am not good in the morning until I've had a little coffee. Not that I ever drink enough to get truly wired. Leaving a bit of a dull edge can certainly have its advantages. Americans, Baby Boomers specifically, seem to have an uncontrollable need to be enormously busy, multitasking themselves through every waking hour. I am a Boomer, so why don't I feel like that? Perhaps it is time for a serious confession.

I have never been to a Starbucks. *

Now, I know that is hard to believe. I looked into one from inside a bookstore recently, but I couldn't make heads of tails of how to order, so I decided not to go in. Since I have no shortage of humbling experiences these days, I figured it was best not to invite shame and humiliation by stuttering through some incomprehensible order while the people in line behind me speculate as to which planet I had just fallen from. I think I will stick to McDonalds. There, I can ask for coffee, and be reasonably assured that what I get will be close to what I want.

Good thing my standards aren't too high. *

See this work at http://www.cafepress.com/ottoblotto.112398700

Illustration Friday: Hide

I recently had a heated debate with my gas grill. The grill won. To say that I have looked frightful for the last couple of weeks would be a gross understatement. First and second degree burns over my entire face and neck, and frizzled remnants of hair have certainly made me want to hide, even in a place where I am completely anonymous to begin with. Nonetheless, life goes on, so I have been forced to accompany my children to their dizzying array of activities and bear up to the stares of others the best that I can. It is a humbling task, one from which I would rather hide.

Hiding is not the same as being hidden. Here, I am hidden despite my best efforts, even though I am not hiding. There are rules to hide behind, expectations and memories, and I am still there, peeking out, waiting for the gentle breeze that will tell me what's next.

http://www.cafepress.com/ottoblotto.161505196See me here.