Ancient History

Follow Me?


Still life

Click here to create your own painting.

Stephanie from Adventures in Babywearing made her own painting. She linked to the site. I made one, too. The answers I gave while taking a short and baffling quiz generated a Work Of Art worthy of display in a locally-owned motel on a state highway. Free Color TV!

In the lower third of the painting, you’ll note the colors brown, green, and white. This represents snow, mud, and money—apt for the season, apt for what we’ve been doing recently. We are trying to buy a used car for my husband (tale of woe found here).

It isn’t going well.

The slashing scratches in the bottom half of the painting convey the typical paint job on cars in our price range. The small blue and chartreuse dots are bubbles of hope—tenuous, colorful, innocent, bright. They are easily popped, however by the large white #1 in motion.

This figure represents the white Dodge Durango we went to see at a local dealership yesterday. We found it on the internet. The price seemed dreamy, the location was near. We thought we’d load the kids in our one and only car for the trip. Armed with the movie Ratatouille to entertain the kids during the more boring moments of car purchasing, the eight of us set off believing we’d come home with a new car.

We arrived at the dealership. My husband went to find the car while I sat with the kids, listening to Remy rhapsodizing on saffron and cheeses in the back. I tried to read. I didn’t get far. My husband returned shortly with the news that the Durango was there. It had no motor, however. That slightly important information had been omitted from the ad.

What now? we wondered.

We didn’t have another possibility lined up. We discussed other car lots in the area and other cars we’d seen online. Suddenly, a voice squeaked from the back. It was Joel: “My tummy hurts!”

Note the painting. The colorful looping in the center is Joel’s tummy and it’s contents. The yellow crescents represent my husband’s baseball hat, which he took off, handed to me, and I passed back. The red abstract figure represents the collective horror of Aidan and Ryley, who were sitting on either side of Joel as he threw up into a baseball hat as we cruised west down 104th avenue in Northglenn, Colorado.

Our car-shopping trip ended. We drove home.

We are going back out today. We’ll take a bucket. That isn’t in the picture.

10 comments to Still life

Leave a Reply

You can use these HTML tags

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>