Word on the street is that Perp Choc is saving the drawing of me (Kurt) with my finger up my nose* as a Christmas present. That I am the only one on the street saying this doesn't mean that it isn't true. Especially as other people on the street are now repeating it. Soon it will have to be true.

*It has been said that I am picking my nose in the picture. This is untrue. My tradition is to pose for photos around the world with my finger in my nose, but it is merely a pose; no picking takes place (at least not during the taking of the photos). Like Vicki Stripɘs, my nose has traveled much and deserves to be featured in trip photos at least once per voyage.

Bottom Line Group

I gave in to the monster Friday (who is apparently called Teddy).  I stayed at the "Bottom Line" group for 6.5 hours.  After drawing for 5 hours I was ready to leave.  Unfortunately it was so packed I couldn't get out even if I wanted to.   (And I did.)  I sat and continued to draw the same pose multiple times for the remaining hour.  Normally I'd concentrate on just one drawing for that hour and a half, but I was as done as dinner and could only do quick sketches.

There were some artists who came in late and ended up drawing the backs of other artists, not having a view of the model at all. 

It started off well, but by the end I was scribbling and unable to get anything lined up correctly.  Had I been thinking I would have just went for something abstract, but maybe next time.  Or not.  I don't think I want to do a double session like that again.  Not with 35 other artists physically packed into such a small space.  My poor friend next to me kept bumping me.  Easels were in danger of toppling when knocked with a leg stretch and I put my high boot heel into somebody's coffee mug.

Teddy is elated and like a drug addict, only satisfied for a short time.  Already this morning he's screaming for more.

BTW.......I got in trouble AGAIN for swearing on the blog.  I pointed out that I didn't actually swear.  What I wrote was "f***ing".  This, I explained, stood for "fudging" monster.  I was then asked why I didn't just write fudging.  I replied that I was using it in a way that was to imply a curse so I wrote it with stars.  Fudging monster is not a swear.  Parents are such hard work.

Never Leave Your Cell Phone With A Teenager

Monster:   "My name's not Hank"
Sandi:  "La,la,la,la.....I can't hear you!"
Monster:  "I said, my name's not Hank.  It's Teddy."
Sandi:  "Huuummmmm.......I still can't hear you!"
Monster:  "That's okay.  I've got all day.  BTW.......Where the heck did you get the name Hank anyways."
Sandi:  "It just came to me."

Well "Hot Chocolate" dumped me again this week.  Work my ass! 

On the topic of Hot Chocolate, his name came up in my art class yesterday.  He came as my guest to one of my classes last winter and one of the ladies currently in my class remembered him.  She mentioned she thought he was quite attractive a couple of times during the course of the morning so I guess Hot Chocolate Jr. isn't the only hot dude in that family. 

A word to the wise, never leave your work cell phone in the hands of a teenager.  These are not normal human beings with normal brain functions.  It's a medically known fact that their brains go off-line for a few years before reengaging and becoming normal again.

Another thing to note....you should never allow your husband to snap a photo of you flashing your boobs at him (with your bra on....or off for that matter) on said business phone that he might land in the hands of just such a teenager to monitor while in the shower as he is awaiting a call.  Big mistake.

If you do this you may come back to find that said teenager has used that particular picture as a background for his phone screen and may consider putting it as your caller id picture that goes out to all the people that your husband calls.  All your husbands business contacts that is.  Around the world.  Japan, Korea, U.K, U.S.  (You get the picture.  Or in this case....hopefully you didn't!)

P.S.  My Thursday mornings are now free for any takers.

Killing the Monster

Cheese Slice Bob from next door drove up just after my tantrum and came over to chat.

Cheese Slice Bob:  What'cha doing?

Sandi:  Hmmm, having a bad art day.

Chees Slice Bob:  So how's the painting coming?

Sandi:  [Blank Stare for a few seconds]  Ummm.......Okay......well, not today, but okay I guess.

Cheese Slice Bob:  Ah!  That's good!

I had just started the clean up and I think he was enjoying one of my female nudes and probably didn't hear much of what I said.  At least he kept sneaking peaks at it.  He was feeding the monster.

Today I hate art.  Actually, for about a half a month now I've hated art.  I hate the monster that drives the desire to create the art.  I want to kill that monster.  

I draw at home, group sessions,  coffee shops, paint in class.  I live and breath art.  I watch how the light hits a persons face in the grocery store, imagine how I would capture a small smirk on a stranger in a coffee shop, wonder what colours I would use and what direction the strokes would take when seeing a landscape.  (And I don't even do lanscapes!)  I can't turn it off. 

The monster drives me on a primal level.  It's instinctive, this desire.  I have to do it.  I try to stop.  I ignore the monster, tune him out, refuse to give in.  The desire grows stronger until I can think of nothing else.  Like a chocoholic thinks of chocolate when abstaining (I know all about that!)   My monster demands to be satisfied, but he never is.

I hate art.

It felt good to throw everything out the window!  I really did it.  But then Cheese Slice Bob stood enjoying my nude painting.  At least that's what the monster would have me believe.  My monster rejoiced as I wavered thinking that could be true.

I Hate Art!

Dejected at having the failed in my attempt to completely eradicate my monster, or even subdue him for any length of time, I returned the objects to their places in my home.  Then for good measure, the monster punished my tantrum by stabbing me good and proper in the wrist with a needle sharp colourless blender.  Bastard!!!  Broke my lawn gnome too with the canvas.  Idiot!

I HATE ART!!  And I HATE that F***ing monster!

P.S.  His name is Hank.

We had a house full of kids here last night getting all horrifified up  (if I may create a word) to go out pillage the neighbourhood for candy.  Okay, maybe pillage is a strong word, but not for what one kid did to my roast beef! 


I bought a fairly large roast to feed a few extra kids.  I kid you not, one small, skinny Asian 15 year old girl ate half the fair sized roast beef all herself, at least 5 whole potatos and veggies on the side.  Three full large plates of food later she was done.  My daughter tells me she eats like this at school too.  One of the other kids, a 15 year old male, was seen picking at small amounts of food, eating very little.  When I asked my daughter about it later she told me he had never, ever in his life yet used a fork, and was having great difficulty trying to pick up his food.  They went looking for our chopsticks but couldn't find where I stored them.  It's probably a good thing though.  If he ate like the other kid we wouldn't have had enough to feed them both let alone the rest;-)  Oddly enough though, there was lots of broccoli and asperagus left.


One really nasty, horrible joke was played on us this Halloween.  We got 6 cm of snow the night before and it hasn't all melted.  Yuck!  I hate cold!


Looks like another blogger is throwing in the towel.  Ve from Ve's Fantastical Nonsense is calling it quits.  Time to clean the side bar up.  It's such a sad task.