Like a thud.

There are times when we all make a comment, or share something we enjoy and it come first like a graceful bird from our lips.... that upon contact with open air bloats to a dodo and greets the ground with an enthusiasm of ground meat.  Splop.  I have these sort of things all the time.  I think other people do as well, how could they not, but mine are mine, precious and unique in the abject embarrassment they give.

So why talk about them now?  Is it because I've mostly grown out of those comments?  No.  Is it because I no longer care as much?  Probably.  Is it just because I derailed something at work?  Definitely.

Woo. Go me...

St Paddy's 2015

We've done our St Patrick's already.  The parade was held on the Saturday past, fine times were had by all provided you didn't need the men's room.  We went home and had our corned beef and cabbie and it was good.  We wore our green and had our family time.  We then on Sunday had corned beef and cabbie again w'me fam.  It was good but I thought the rolls we had on Saturday were better.

Something of note, the wee new bae, Boo, took to the pipebands fine.  She held to her mommy but she didn't fuss.  The lad was much more interested in the parade this year, pointing at things I should take pictures of.  He pet unfamiliar wolfhounds, waved at the numerous pols that use the parade to... well, parade.  It was good.

I think I would probably feel different if we had something more to do this evening to celebrate.  I think I should make the time for something.  Art, perhaps.  I need more art.

Times a changing they are.

I remember back in the day when I was on a dial-up modem trying desperately to get a song from online.  I would occupy the line for three hours to get one song, usually a 3 megabyte mp3 of a ska tune or somesuch.  That and you couldn't play it until it was finished so you don't know if it was even a good copy or not.

So it goes.

Nowadays I have a Spotify account.  Just today I've listened to about five albums from several different artists and if I don't like what I am listening to I can just choose something else and it plays immediately.  Younger me would have a conniption fit.  Older me laughs and laughs...

So it goes.

Remember the small stuff kids, it gives perspective.

Radio Silence

Blogs die.  Simple truth, aye?  I've seen many go that I've enjoy reading.  Wherein the author states I will write a post with (x) frequency and then other projects come along, the blog dies and the internet gets another abandoned building.

Others simply stop for a while and then come back in a new form or they are still the same but with an added maturity.  Others don't learn from the past and are abandoned again and again like a smoker that is trying to quit again and again.

I think my blog, this thing here is more like the last bit.  A smoker who cannot quit.

In the time that I last wrote in this blog I've had an artistic revelation of sorts.

Dennis Sheehan, Day's End.

The painting above was painted using a two color pallet.  Two. 

I recently watched a couple of videos of Mr Sheehan doing his thing and in each he used a burnt umber and a dark green.  The tools used were a three inch wide paintbrush like what you get at Home Despot, linquin oil  and paper towels.

I've read about people using a limited pallet before to great effect but it didn't sink in until I watched it happen in front of me.  I want to try it out for myself and if I do I will be sure to document it and put it up here.