Cutting Through Attachment

Made in Costa Rica, 2006.

Swept

Balloon

An oldie for this week's Illustration Friday theme of "balloon".
I made this back in the fall/early winter of 2005
and, funnily enough, the theme is still pertinent...
(And, yes. That is little toddler Pen!)
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r e p a i r

A very hastily made, in at the last minute,
Illustration Friday piece for the theme
: repair :

worry

This weeks Illustration Friday theme is worry.

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W i d e

I created this piece this week and then noticed that it fit perfectly with the Illustration Friday theme: wide.
It is about my response to my wide open future.
Every image in this piece is from a photograph I took in Paris last month.
It's a snapshot of my life recently.
I am happy to say that if it were a snapshot of now...
she would have a foot out of the box!


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Illustration Friday : Theory

Yep, The Prince Of Peace
kindly lent me his red 80s slouch boots.

Illustration Friday: choose

Yes, that's me!
Yes, the wellie boots are tethered.

Illustration Friday : Blanket

Blanket Statement


... the joys of communication ...
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Illustration Friday: Tales & Legends

In at the last minute, and badly scanned, my "Tales and Legends" theme for Illustration Friday this week. Inspired by a James Tate poem:

It Happens Like This

I was outside St. Cecelia's Rectory
smoking a cigarette when a goat appeared beside me.
It was mostly black and white, with a little reddish
brown here and there. When I started to walk away,
it followed. I was amused and delighted, but wondered
what the laws were on this kind of thing. There's
a leash law for dogs, but what about goats? People
smiled at me and admired the goat. "It's not my goat,"
I explained. "It's the town's goat. I'm just taking
my turn caring for it." "I didn't know we had a goat,"
one of them said. "I wonder when my turn is." "Soon,"
I said. "Be patient. Your time is coming." The goat
stayed by my side. It stopped when I stopped. It looked
up at me and I stared into its eyes. I felt he knew
everything essential about me. We walked on. A police-
man on his beat looked us over. "That's a mighty
fine goat you got there," he said, stopping to admire.
"It's the town's goat," I said. "His family goes back
three-hundred years with us," I said, "from the beginning."
The officer leaned forward to touch him, then stopped
and looked up at me. "Mind if I pat him?" he asked.
"Touching this goat will change your life," I said.
"It's your decision." He thought real hard for a minute,
and then stood up and said, "What's his name?" "He's
called the Prince of Peace," I said. "God! This town
is like a fairy tale. Everywhere you turn there's mystery
and wonder. And I'm just a child playing cops and robbers
forever. Please forgive me if I cry." "We forgive you,
Officer," I said. "And we understand why you, more than
anybody, should never touch the Prince." The goat and
I walked on. It was getting dark and we were beginning
to wonder where we would spend the night.
- James Tate

More poems by James Tate at:
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/jamestate/

My first ever...

Blog posting.

Illustration Friday entry.

And second time playing with PhotoShop.