March Flies By The Creek, An illustrated Story

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The March Fly

Recently I went camping and one of the hazards was the notorious March Fly. I'll be adding a story to this in the near future.

  Below is my self-portrait with March Fly.

           

Below: Two versions

After the insect introduction is over...

Killer Portrait: Axel Rudakubana

 

Lion Eyes

 

Jesus Saves

 

September 2024 Portrait Group Drawings of Klara in Her Studio

 

                 Klara's large mother doll, she made, was on the couch next to Klara.

                                                                 Klara's foot, Glen and Liz

Chloe the Cat Sat On The Lap and a Spelling Rant

 Everyone who knows me knows I love cats. When my cat, Chloe lays on my lap she more accurately, SPAWLS. That is a sign of trust. I just admire the beauty and grace of cats, and they have always been my companions, affectionate and uncritical, unless I am late with their food!

I am not sure if I like the black frame, but it is something I sometimes add to my pictures. In this first sketch Chloe is laying on my lap as I watch TV. I have my nice comfy Ugg boots on and an old, oversized jumper which you can partially see in the foreground.

One of the best things about art is 'artistic licence'. (By the way, my spellchecker keeps telling me it is 'license', well up you spell checker 'cause I am not writing 'Merican'. As a noun in British and Australian English it is spelt the way I spell it. Mind you I do use some American spellings that were actually introduced into Australian English in the 1960s - I still remember that grade six lesson. 'Color' instead of colour' and 'labor instead of labour were the ones. Now the old spellings have snuck back which is kind of stupid because who needs those silly 'Us'?

  Oh, where was I before I rudely interrupted myself? So, I drew Chloe, who was sitting nearby and thought why not include the TV, which was actually in the other direction? Mind you, that TV looks a little like a window, which I suppose it is, metaphorically. Then, rather than try to draw what was flashing by on the screen I transposed a couple of characters from my last train sketches. (That man was loud and was what we once would have called a 'cretin' or 'moron' - I forget the distinction - but I suppose that would not be nice because he was harmless).