Rubber duck

1/19. Rubber duck, oil on linen panel, 4x4 in. SOLD

This duck is part of a Russ baby bath set that was given to Breagha a while back. I think it's one of the cutest duckies out there, but apart from being able to squirt water out the little mouth hole it functions poorly as a bath toy (being tall and top-heavy).

Old English word of the day:

snáw [snau]: snow.

Here are some shots of Breagha I took late this morning, taking advantage of some rare snowfall. It was already starting to melt by this time but there was still enough to have some fun with. [Every time she sees her duckie on the computer screen she points and goes "quack!" - or something between "kaaa" and "kaaaaack."]

Alphabet block

9/29: Alphabet block, oil on canvas panel,approx. 5x3 in.

I tried to keep this fast but it went over half an hour so I won’t call it a sketch. I took the time to mix my normal colors here, and missed the slight feeling of excitement that using less familiar ones had given me these last few days. Maybe trying out "the other kid’s crayons" was more satisfying, or I’m not as sure of my normal palette’s versatility as I was. Either way, this is somehow better than my previous attempt at alphabet blocks, which took considerably more time. Being more spontaneous in color decisions is key, I guess - fewer decisions, with more confidence, or something like this.

Writing yesterday's egg post got me thinking more about the term "viking," the Old English form of which was wícing [wēch-ĭng], from wíc, the word I found so difficult in the riddle of the swan. I had never put the two together before - the root word plus the suffix making a new word, in the way that æðeling "prince" was made from æðele "noble." What the dictionary has on the supposed origin of viking sheds more light on another meaning of wíc, which gives the riddle an even more playful, "riddling" quality. Maybe more on this later (I know you love it)....

Alphabet blocks

8/24: Alphabet blocks, oil on canvas panel, approx. 5x3 in. Not for sale.

I ended up making them kind of wobbly somehow, but I think they're still cute. My wife let our daughter start playing with some of these wood blocks this week, and she has a blast with them - lining them up and sliding them along the window sill, transferring them from one container to another, hitting us with the hard corners....

Scots Gaelic word of the day:

brèagha [brē'-ə]: lovely, fine.

I used to take refuge in studying less-than-useful things (and always will, to a lesser degree), the way some people would turn to strenuous physical activity or alcohol. Immersing myself in something like Gaelic when I was home from art school one summer helped take my racing mind to a place where I felt it could be held still, as well as get broadened a little at a time. I had a teach-yourself book with tapes to listen to and at some point I was sure I knew enough to converse with a Gaelic speaker, if I'd wanted to converse with anybody, except I spent only a summer at it and very soon forgot most of what I learned. A few years later when (thanks to my dad) I had the chance to visit Edinburgh, I would have been near clueless had I heard or read any Gaelic, and today I maybe remember half of one percent. But the word brèagha always rang in my mind - it was beautiful, perfect and fine, one of those rare words that reads and sounds, to me, to mean exactly what it means. I never had a fetish for Scottish things, but the Gaelic (really, any authentically Celtic-derived) stuff is seriously beautiful, though challenging to get a real sense of. I'll never claim to be an expert, but I hate when you see mass-market mishmashes like "Celtic Woman" or gross deceptions like the use of Irish bagpipes in the soundtrack of Braveheart, a movie about Scotland. (I like to annoy my wife with this complaint. I don't care that Mel Gibson chose also to shoot it in Ireland or that the modern bagpipes wouldn't have even been invented yet. But come on.)

I had always hoped to someday have a kid, and although the idea of a little boy version of me running around was nice, for some reason I always "knew" that if I were to be blessed with a child it would be a little girl. And often with that thought came an image of the page in the glossary of my old Gaelic book and the feeling I got every time I had read the word brèagha, so much that I knew that that would be her name. My wife kind of liked it too.

I don't know what Scottish people think of the word, but interestingly you'll find it is given as a name to dogs more than people (there's maybe a cat), if you look it up. Back when I was in Edinburgh I even met a dog named Breagha owned by a very nice man. I think it is sort of funny, and I hope my daughter doesn't hate me for it later. That is, when she's done hating me for the weird spelling.

Tha i brèagha an-diugh.

Work in progress(?): Alphabet blocks

I didn't have much time last night so I kept this to under an hour. Maybe I'll finish it tonight. Yesterday I made it into the local Jerry's Artarama for the first time (don't ask me how I'd never known it was there before) and quickly looked over their Gamblins, Williamsburgs etc. just as they were closing. Tried some Gamblins here for the first time (on a little 5x3 panel) and I think they may change my life.... I guess this is how seriously out of touch one can get when he has given up painting for long periods of time.

Not to disappoint my die-hard collectors ; ) but I've upped the starting bids for any pieces 5x7 and larger to $45 - to help offset outrageous eBay fees, gas prices, effects of global warming and such.

Baby's snap beads

Snap beads, oil on canvas panel, approx. 4x6 in.

8/17. These two beads still have their shape while others are half destroyed from aggressive chewing. Also probably made from poison plastic as all toys seem to be. My angles here are maybe a little wonky.