And then a work trip brought me to the Tennessee State Capitol (that is in Nashville for those of you that don’t know, although most people from where I am from, think Memphis and Nashville are the same thing. They are the same, just like San Francisco and Los Angeles are the same). A local rep told us that there are often bills up for vote that involve horse meat factories. He said that the Tennessee legislation is bad for ya if you are a woman, gay, a teacher, or a horse. I would hate to hear what kind of lady parts factories those crazies have in the works!
By some twist of fate (and long spans between blog posts) the latest completion photo happens to be of a:
No 18 in my mind:
I think hearing about the horse meat farm put me in some kind of mood. Usually I would think: transportation, the wild west, Amaragosa, but no, I imagined a fate nearly as bad as the unthinkable horsemeat factory for this horse. I imagined he had been styled by an Urban Outfitters catalog stylist. I’m just in a really dark place.
That is what talking about horse meat will do to you.
When I look back at my phone pics from the past week or so, the overarching story I see is: work, work, dental work, and monkeys. I’m sure everyone goes through that life phase.
In order: Gorilla thoughts, Jon Langford at Thacker Mountain recording, springtime lion love, fancy case for new crown (didn’t get a picture of the look on the dentists face when I asked if I could keep it), homemade Gucci Mane CD found in Target parking lot, springtime eagle love, Dixon gardens, giant T-Rex tearing into a Tri-tops at new dino exhibit at the Memphis Zoo, a siamang napping in the sun, and B’s b-day present.
I had a chance to cool out with culture this weekend. It’s been a touch stressful at work (I have been a cat-herder for six weeks now) and when I can’t take a week to vacation in Bali, I turn to things like the dusty camera shelves at thrift stores and the European painting collections at our local museums. (Who is hip now, huh?)
I like still lifes of dead game, fruit, and flowers but what I like even more are portraits (go figure - I drew a portrait for my completion pic yesterday). The Dixon has a few good ones right now and I was particularly enchanted with the painter’s descriptions of the women in their portraits. Here are my favorites (punctuation accurate):
“…much intelligence and delicacy of feeling”
“…lively, spiritual, intelligent, and full of playfulness”
“…a Lady of goodly Personage, somewhat taller than ordinary French Women are, excellent Eyes, black hair, and of a most sweet and affable Nature.”
That last one was for a Flemish woman, who we all know are much taller than French ladies.
So the question is, what would your eighteenth century painting description be of your portrait? What would a Frenchman with a brush say about you?
“…lively of spirit, Lady of GODly personage, wholesome of face, handsome of height, and Skilled in lemonade Arts”
I guess I have to think about mine longer.
Hello from the longest stretch of non-posting in KayekillA history. Excuses to come. For now gaze (if you can, I am posting from my phone so can't vouch for quality) upon this collection of keychains I just saw in an art gallery in Oxford. It is nearly identical to one my own mother used to have hanging at my grandparents house. No.Stayl.Ghah.