|Not sure of the age of this fabulous machine - 80 years?|
|Pamela's tyger, tyger burning bright...|
|In the forests of the night...|
|What immortal hand or eye...|
|Could frame thy fearful symmetry?|
Thanks to Marie for the fabulously organic sewing machine she kindly lent us this week - along with the lantern, hibachi, bongos and plant in a pot!
From the top - Marie's wonderful apparatus, Pamela's pastel tiger, Chango's inspirational meditational, Sarah's flowing sewing machine, bongos.
Well done to Maurice for grappling and persevering with the baffling mysteries of one point perspective - keep up the good work. We all get to the vanishing point in the end.
By the way, that red glow is the heat of our passionate creativity - baby it's not cold outside...
And so long Chango.
I knew Chango's days were numbered, but not having seen him for some weeks, I had not mentioned that as far as being our one and only canine cohort, he was on his last legs - all four of them.
How people like us artists - who are supposed to be a little more observant than most - managed to not see the 'No Dogs' sign in the porch as you come in, I don't know.
I guess like most people - 'you just see what you wanna see...'
Apologies. Chango has been relegated to his home studio, sketch book and pencil in paw...
...and keep drawing...