There’s so much science in art.

Recently my other half asked me ‘What’s the deal behind the phrase “As mad as a hatter”?’

Well, he was asking the right person, I actually know the answer.  Years back when hatters where hatters, mercury was used in the process of hat making.  So this was all before people knew that mercury wasn’t good to handle and lick your fingers after, get it on your skin and such.  So hatters would handle mercury and get mercury poisoning, which would become evident in them going nuts.  Hence the phrase, as mad as a hatter!

In a similar vein, here are some of the nasty things that artists – or art handlers – have to take risks with.

As I say to my students.  Once you get the temptation to lick your brush, wash your brush in your wine or drink it after, remember that one of those pigments might be phthaloCYANINE blue.

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Tales from the field #5.

There’s something to be said about driving one of the most popular vehicles in the country.  When you get to the parking lot, you get to park in the Silverado Section

Silverado Section

Oh look! Another Silverado. Oh look! Another Silverado…………..

Colors and words.

A friend passed along this video about words for colors, and how words for colors develop in different languages.  It reminded me of a friend of mine, Gordon, with whom I was having a discussion about some coworkers who had sat across from me at a meeting wearing fuschia, chartreuse and magenta blouses which in a row, were quite visually difficult to look at!  He looked blank at me and said ‘I’m a guy, I got blue, red, green, yellow… nothing more complex than that!’

Tales from the field #3.

So this is a fresh tail.  Sorry, was that a typo?  (All will become clear in a moment.)  Behind my booth at the fair in Scottsdale, is a dispenser for dog poop bags.  There wasn’t much of a crowd while I was eating the free breakfast.  (Oh, sorry, that’s a breakfast that you paid for in with your booth fee.  I’m not much of a muffin eater, but in cases like this, You Will Enjoy The Muffin Whether You Like It Or Not!)  So I’m reading the graphics on the side of the box.  I was wondering what design innovations Mutt Mitts might have come up with in the Joys of Dog Ownership department, but it turns out they are just bags.  With instructions, in case you didn’t know how to clean up after your pet.  Apparently there isn’t yet an app for that.

dogpoopbags

Brings a whole new meaning to artificial intelligence being no substitute for natural stupidity.

The whole subject reminds me of one night I stayed with an artist friend for a show, and after the Saturday of the show we walked her dog.  She commented that if aliens looked down at the whole dog-human relationship they could misconstrue the whole scenario.  Who feeds whom?  Who walks behind whom?  Who picks up whose poop and takes it home?

The balloon of knowledge….

Here’s November’s monthly newsletter.  As an addendum, I realize I was actually working on 25 commissions in October.  When do I find time to clean the house?  Oh, wait……

Sonnet Challenge #14

This is the last one in the series suggested by Eric in Ventura.  His phrase was:This is the last one in the series suggested by Eric in Ventura.  His phrase was:”The attic, grandma’s art hidden behind the attic crawl space”
Having gotten close to the end of the list of suggestions, I’ve been working off on my own for a while.  I completed six sonnets on the weekend during quiet moments at the art fair and I’m now over the 100 mark!
Grandma’s attic
It’s an expected death, but still, she’s gone –

in heaven with Grandpa – her life love – again

and now it’s up to us to clear the home.

Sixty years of chatchkis, what a pain!

The auctioneer comes first and takes the best.

Next the ebay guy, then Goodwill runs,

and lastly to the dump with all the rest

but family albums.  Oh!  The attic’s full

of paintings!  Whose are these?  My God, they’re hers!

We’d no idea she was so good at art.

And dates! She’d painted in her youth for years,

but none since when our Grandpa stole her heart.

So sad, on these walls only now we see t

he artist her life wouldn’t let her be.

Tales from the Field #2

Here’s an icebreaker I’ve been using for years – finally thought to take the picture to go with it, and found a willing victim in Boulder City yesterday.

oddshoesSomeone walks by, or walks in with a ‘boot’ on.  I’ll sneak up to them and ask “Don’t you just hate it…….when you go somewhere nice……….and when you get there, you realize………..you’re wearing odd shoes?”

This lady was with her husband, so I then asked her whether she sustained the injury because she kicked him for snoring.  She had a great come-back.  “No, but I can now!”

April one year I had that conversation then asked the lady what she’d done.  She said she’d had a new ankle the prior July, but it had broken again.  Oh, I asked – is it still under warranty?