I did this painting recently during a figure painting class. Mostly we worked with nudes but this pose was with a costumed flamenco dancer. Here’s a link to a painting by the teacher, Charles Vinh, which was up in the gallery when we were taking the class… It was good to get instruction on painting on canvas – mostly I’ve worked on paper before… or on the computer, of course!
Busy, busy this summer! Anyway, here’s a doodle for your viewing pleasure – I guess I’m in a fishy mood… This is a black perch – which name seems curious since – it isn’t black!
By-the-way, did you know – yin-yang is cute?? Well, I’m sure you’ll think so after you check out the picture!
UPDATE: From the comments for a cute poem that goes – dare I say – swimmingly with the picture! Tom Radcliffe (c) 2010
A perch may perch on perch of rock
while far above a Lesser Scaup
might dip its feet in the briny deep
where far below the fishes sleep!
A perch may think the deepest thoughts:
Why is it “black” when it’s clearly not?
But a scaup knows all and more besides:
the secret succulence of tides,
the mysteries of the land and air,
it knows them all but will not share.
Which leaves the perch to perch in peace
to contemplate catch and release
or meditate with empty mind:
who knows what answers it might find!
Another random doodle… I was trying something a bit different technically and although that aspect was not a great success, I think the drawing is still cute in the end.
I was thinking about doing something themed for Canada Day or even the 4th of July – Bonne Fête to our neighbours! but in the end tropical fish lol
Someone sent me this link a couple of days ago (in time for Canada Day) and if you are in the mood for an amusing pro-Canada tune, check it out!
UPDATE: Another fun and also touching poem from Tom in the comments! (c) Tom Radcliffe 2010
Although not all that glister’s gold
sometimes a diver, brave and bold,
who plunges after pirate treasure
finds a gem that’s without measure:
little fishes, living jewels,
scales of gold that isn’t fool’s
adorning innocents that roam
amongst some old Phoenician bones
that lie beneath the sleeping sands
where corals grow and leafy strands
of seaweed wave; anemones
add their voices to the sea’s
great silent susurration, slow
and gentle, down below
where little fishes dart and glide
living life on stranger tides.