Celluloid Man

Celluloid Man, acrylic, 30x24
(aka Celluloid Man Meets his Match)

I had primed this canvas but needed a different size for a planned painting. Rather than put the canvas away, I set up a palette with ultramarine, cadmium red, cadmium yellow, and white and began painting without a single thought--started with an oval.

I took a photo of the first day's work, printed it out and toyed with ideas--Self-anointed One and Candle Man. I needed a reason for the melting (other than the heat here in southern Virginia). After a couple of days, a memory surfaced. Aha!

When I was very young (4 or 5) I loved a small celluloid doll that my father bought for me during our trip into town. As I sat with my mother in the front yard under the shade of the trees, she said, "If you strike a match to the doll's feet, she will smile." I did--and was horrified as I watched her melt. I cried for days. My mother had a great sense of humor but it was missing on that particular day--this is one of the few bad memories from my childhood.

Mothers, don't let your babies grow up to be artists.

It's a Wonderful Blog

Thinking Cap, photo from Taj Mahal in Atlantic City
(It took six attempts to get my head aligned with the faucet.)

I began following Harry Kent's blog Tachisme because I loved his self-portraits. His post from today--collaborative abstract painting and the accompanying comments--made me don my "thinking cap." Great reading.

Updated Sat., July 17. Wrap-around mirrors always fascinate and confuse me.

Third Thursday in South Boston

Six painted chairs were on display; there was great music; stores were open late, and lots of people showed up--despite the hot weather.

I almost bought my own painted chair. At $60, my left brain kicked in (I use it infrequently) and said "Buy it, take a deduction, and resell it for at least double at the October art show--a better return than the stock market." Bidding picked up and it sold to the lady on the stage. (Now I can legally deduct only the cost of materials--or was that law changed?)

Before the auction I took a walk looking for a breeze and, instead, found a beautiful side street. Celeste was right when she said backs and sides of buildings can be more interesting than fronts.

There was an underlying sadness at the event. The friend who talked me into painting the chair lost her daughter today--there was a car accident last weekend--and her grandson remains in the hospital. There was a silent prayer.