Ding Dong the Holidays are over! The house is quiet, the decorations are put away, and the next houseguest won’t be here for another couple of weeks. It’s almost February and I’m still going strong with my New Year’s Resolution. Who would think not giving a damn would be so easy?
My son and his girlfriend headed back to New York last week. Everyone was a bit under the weather during they visit so we didn’t get to talk as much as I would have liked. She recently returned from Amsterdam. The home of Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and Vermeer filled me with many unanswered questions. For instance: Did she prefer the nights in Holland or the Hollandaise? And is there any way you can go out to a restaurant in the Netherlands without going Dutch? I have more, but I take it from your silence not to continue.
Also, Downton Abbey has started up again. I thought it would never get here. The costumes, the sets, the dramatic pauses, it all means one thing: I have at least one hour free for the next several weeks while my wife and daughter are watching. There’s nothing like an English melodrama when insomnia flares up. Even our pilot lights had to be relit.
Now I can get back to my favorite sport, sitting on my ass. Which, of course, should be worked into everyone’s exercise routine. And why not? We are becoming more sedentary with each generation. Embrace your derriere, metaphorically of course. Literally can get you arrested in thirty-eight states and all U.S. territories, except of course Puerto Rico. If God didn’t want us to spend so much time on it, why did He make the gluteus maximus the biggest muscle in our body? It just makes sense, and isn’t that what this blog is all about? That’s not a rhetorical question. I really need to know.
I might even have a glass of wine while I write this. Don’t worry dear reader; my manliness is not in jeopardy. I promise it will be a red. You will agree that all white wines are feminine, and that includes Chablis, Sauternes, white burgundy, and don’t get me started on Zinfandels. You may be tempted to order a white on a first date if you are in any way nervous or clumsy and fear a spillage. But it will go from her thinking, “Hmmm, I never had a date admire my shoes before,” to a very suspicious “Hmmm, I never had a date admire my shoes before.” Reds are the only sexy wines to order. If you do order a white order a chardonnay. It’s the beer of wines.
Once again I rambled on too long with nothing much to say. For now I hear closing credits downstairs, which can only mean one thing, the end of another installment of As the Clock Clicks. I guess I’ll just have to start my drinking earlier next week. Until then, save the last complaint for me.
Below is a simple painting test I did while the weather is too cold to venture out for plein air work. The camera on the left was done with a graislle underpainting and a series of glazes. The one on the right is a direct painting with the same lighting setup. I worked from a photo for both pieces, so not to have the drawing become a variable. By the way, that is my very first camera growing up.