MMMMMMmmmmmm . . . butter is just so good.
It's amazing how something so simple and yellow can make one so happy. This morning I eschewed my usual boiled egg/V-8 breakfast combo (which is kinda blecchy but, as usual, it's one of those "at what price beauty?" or, more specifically, "at what price keeping my ass in my really expensive jeans?" things with me) from my workplace cafeteria in favor of TWO boiled eggs (that's right, people, ya heard it here) and one precious lovely slice of sourdough toast . . . with BUTTAH. I actually saved it for "dessert" and savored it for as long as possible. I found myself lovingly licking the last little bite of crust before shoving it down and gobbling with relish.
Ahhhhh. Butter. Butterbutterbutterbutterbutter.
As for my portrait drawing yesterday, it went well and was chock full of little surprises:
a. Not everybody draws - some people whipped out oil paints, water colors, etc.
b. Not everybody finished in the allotted hour, so some people whipped out cameras and took my picture.
c. Who knew it would be SO HARD for me (the person who can't even sleep if Skip is in the same room reading a book) to stay awake when sitting frozen before a blinding light in a hot room full of strangers?
d. Who knew that said struggle to stay awake would result in a bunch of portraits that made me look really angry . . .
e. . . . and, interestingly, rather manly? (For the record, I was not wearing the pointy shoes.)
f. I was encouraged to choose a focal point in order to avoid moving my head, and ended up choosing a branch on the pine tree outside the window that looked almost exactly like Don King.
Oh, and I was right about my coworker - he confessed that he'd really been looking forward to drawing my hair. In the end, he was not as happy with his work as I was, and wants another shot at it, so who knows . . . ? I might end up doing this again in the next few months. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to getting more copies of Auntsie Pants portraits! I have the one from my coworker, but am expecting a couple more; the rule is that they don't have to give you a copy, but most people do unless they're just wildly unhappy with their work - or, I suppose, with you . . .
Ahhhhh. Butter. Butterbutterbutterbutterbutter.
As for my portrait drawing yesterday, it went well and was chock full of little surprises:
a. Not everybody draws - some people whipped out oil paints, water colors, etc.
b. Not everybody finished in the allotted hour, so some people whipped out cameras and took my picture.
c. Who knew it would be SO HARD for me (the person who can't even sleep if Skip is in the same room reading a book) to stay awake when sitting frozen before a blinding light in a hot room full of strangers?
d. Who knew that said struggle to stay awake would result in a bunch of portraits that made me look really angry . . .
e. . . . and, interestingly, rather manly? (For the record, I was not wearing the pointy shoes.)
f. I was encouraged to choose a focal point in order to avoid moving my head, and ended up choosing a branch on the pine tree outside the window that looked almost exactly like Don King.
Oh, and I was right about my coworker - he confessed that he'd really been looking forward to drawing my hair. In the end, he was not as happy with his work as I was, and wants another shot at it, so who knows . . . ? I might end up doing this again in the next few months. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to getting more copies of Auntsie Pants portraits! I have the one from my coworker, but am expecting a couple more; the rule is that they don't have to give you a copy, but most people do unless they're just wildly unhappy with their work - or, I suppose, with you . . .