Old Friends

They'd been friends for a very long time.

"Old Friends"

Watercolor

3”x3” - painted on a small card

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I Believe in You

I hope that you believe in yourself

as much as I believe in you.

"I Believe in You"

Mixed Media

Original available here for $10

6"x4" on cardboard

Prints available on request.

(Printed image may be slightly cropped for printing purposes.)

My original paintings are available in my online gallery.

Let me know if you're interested in prints of my paintings.

  I welcome commissions.

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Tiny Bouquet Magnet

I've decided to upcycle a bunch of refrigerator magnets. 

Tiny painting challenges are so much fun!

"Tiny Bouquet"

So much cuter as a painted magnet, right?

To purchase this magnet, click here.

My original paintings are available in my online gallery.

Prints of many of my paintings are available in my Etsy shop. 

Let me know if you're interested in prints of my paintings.

  I welcome commissions.

Please click the links below to share my blog.

Being Brave

I was brave today.

Not in the risk my life way or anything like that. No, I was brave in a hair way. The thing is this. I have tons of hair clips and barrettes. And I consistently put them in my hair in the morning. But I always, always, take them out before I manage to actually be seen by anyone outside of my family. Maybe I prefer to hide behind my hair. Perhaps I don't want anyone to know just how big my forefivehead is (big foreheads run in my family). Perhaps it a remnant from my punk days in high school.

Well today I put a clip in my hair and I left it in. All. Day. Long. Feeling like a superhero...and my fivehead appreciated the opportunity to see the sun!

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Shedding a Little Light on Things

I've been the guinea pig for a lot of my husband's photography lately. He's really quite amazing and carries about a million kazillion facts around in his head. He also has the habit of talking to himself while he's working on something which makes it so I'm privy to said facts.

Today the facts were all about photographic lighting, f-stops, and other such things.

The thing is, I have absolutely positively no idea what he's talking about. And as he goes on and on spewing out brilliance all I'm hearing is the teacher voice from "Peanuts", so I burst out laughing.

You know what happened next?


Dave: "OK, now I need to tell you about it all over again."


And he did!

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Days Gone By

I was digging through my desk drawers at work last week. It's not the most organized space, but it's OK, there's not much in there to keep track of. I noticed one thing, though. I have a TON of hair ties and there are some in every drawer. I haven't a clue as to why, but it's a fact. And I also have a ton of them at home.

AND I'm getting my short hair cut to an even shorter length tomorrow.


So I'm thinking that I must gather all those hair ties up and add them to my "Days Gone By" collection...current members are my nose rings, my many containers of crazy color nail polish, my belly dance stuff, my biker jacket, and on and on.

Mind you, "Days Gone By" is decidedly not a life sentence, every item is available for resurrection at a moment's notice.

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California Dreaming

I happened to notice that today is the five year anniversary of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's deaths.  As sad and shocking as that day was, it was also a day when one of my most favorite memories was created.

My boys and I were somewhere between Austin, TX and San Jose, CA at a Holiday Inn Express on a road trip to my brother's house.  We'd tossed our stuff in the room and headed straight to the pool.

Now, I'd noticed all the Harleys parked out front, but had no idea that the whole biker gang had also tossed their stuff in their room and headed straight to the pool.  My then fourteen and ten year old sons and I just considered this to be yet another fabulous adventure on our second voyage out west.  We jumped right in and had some amazing conversations with the most oddly tanned people I've ever encountered.  Seriously, riding a motorcycle  for hundreds of miles with only a bandanna upon your head leaves you with quite a funny forehead tan.

They were all fabulously delightful...and the best part, at least for me, was the biker dude who insisted upon serenading me with Dionne Warwick's "Do you Know the way to San Jose?" over and over and over again.  I was in biker babe heaven!

Click here to purchase this piece.

50% off of everything in my Daily Paintworks shop through the end of the month.  
Email me the one(s) you want and I'll adjust the price.  Thanks!!!  kalilparsons@gmail.com
 

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Come on in...the Water's Fine

And this is why I should always bring a friend for my kid when we go swimming.


Me:  "Is it cold?"

Little guy:  "It's fine, mom.  You'll get used to it."


I go down one step.  It's not even close to being fine.


Me:  "It is cold."

Little guy:  "You're a wimp."


I go down one more step.


Little guy:  "Jump in, mom."

Me:  "I know, I really should."


He gets out of the pool and checks his phone.


Me:  "Did you get a call?"

Little guy:  "Nope."


AND HE PUSHES ME IN!!!!


Me:  "Oh, this is nice!"

Little guy:  "You're welcome."

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In Awe

I love being in awe of fellow humans.

There's this fella who walks dogs in our hood.  Sometimes up to fifteen dogs...maybe more...all at once!  He's amazing, this guy.  He's surrounded by leashes and dogs and they all, no matter the size, walk down the street in perfect pace.

And while that's utterly and completely amazing to me, what amazes me even more is that his zen dog walking/whispering powers travel at least fifty feet.

Here's the thing.  Any time a dog is walked by our house, our big dog, Scout, goes ballistic.  Then Hazel goes ballistic because she assumes that Scout knows what the heck she's "talking" about.  But when this dog walker walks by, with his crazy calm brood of pooches, our dogs just stand and stare.

The force is strong with this one.

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The Fuzz

So sometimes I let my imagination get the best of me.  And somehow it always ends up just being a humbling humiliating experience.  Believe me, I'm not new at this game.  (Check out my worst episode here.) 

Anyway, I was at the gym and I kept noticing that when I was lifting weights over my head I was getting looks.  I'm thinking...

"What, is some hot chick behind me?"

"Do I have a booger in my nose?"

"Could it possibly be that my muscles are getting awesome?!?!"

So I walked back to the locker room with just a bit of a hop in my step.  I stood at the sink to wash my hands, then raised my arms up to take the big honkin' clip outa my hair, and...

OH MY GOSH, you've never seen so much black shirt fuzz stuck in armpits...ever!

Me:  "Oh."

Ah, well....

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My Old Dog Rocks!

Feeling great love for our old lady, Scout.  Ya know, if someone came up to me, seemingly randomly, and pried my mouth open and shoved a pill down my throat and then acted like I should be just fine with it, well, they'd have another thing coming.

But Scout?  She just looks up at me with love and adoration in her eye (she only has one good one left).  "Mama loves me!"

And she's right.

Sweetest old dog ever.

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Follow the Bouncing Ball

So today as I drove to go pick up my kid from karate a golf ball bounced into my lane and proceeded to bounce, bounce, bounce down the lane in front of me...until I overtook it.  I rather wish there had been some music and lyrics to sing along to as I followed the bouncing ball.

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In Need of Support

So my little guy went out in drag for Halloween this year.  And while he got to have the delightful freedom that a skirt allows, he also go to experience an issue that is not so delightful.


Little guy:  "That bra you had me wearing didn't hold these up."  He held up the roller derby socks I'd "enhanced" him with.

Me:  "Not enough support, eh?"

Little guy:  Yeah, they kept popping out."

Me:  "Yup, it happens."


Super mom here...doing my part to bring up a man with empathy.

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Lemonade Love

My yard without a lemonade stand looks nekkid!  I think this is the first time in about ten years that there's not a lemonade stand in front of my house during the Austin City Limits Festival.  Apparently being almost fifteen is too old.  And being eighteen is WAY too old.

But...when it all started, and the little guy was four and the big guy was eight, they'd hold up signs and enthusiastically shout to passers by.

"Ice cold lemonade!!!!"

My little guy would run down a house or two and try to talk folks walking down the street into making a purchase from his big brother.  My big guy would hold down the fort managing the money and distributing the bev's.

It's funny when a tradition finally goes by the way-side.  Funny, nostalgic, and totally appropriate.  Those little salesmen will be missed this year, I'm sure.  Feeling super glad that I still have one of their signs from the first lemonade stand ever.

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A Fishy Tale

I'm thinking I'm getting older...or more paranoid...certainly more neurotic.

You see, I've developed a couple of phobias over the past two months of riding my bike on the trails. (I love summer!!)

1. I am terrified of runners' loogies.  You know, like when they just spontaneously send one flying no matter that a sweet little bicyclist is coming from behind...right in the path of said loogie.  Ew!

2.  I am petrified of crazy monkey hand talkers.  And I can say that because I am one (see my blog post about my own hand talking).  As I pass people walking and talking I'm just certain that one of them is going to throw an arm out, surely telling their friend, "The fish was this big," and whack me in the face giving me a black eye or a bloody nose.  Seriously, it could happen!

Course I have to say how much I love that my imagination goes into overdrive on these deliciously long summer rides of mine....

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A Gi Epiphany

I've been aware for quite some time that sports equipment has a smell.  The soccer shin guards...woof!  The football pads...ugh!  But what has managed to top everything thus far has been the karate gear.  Head gear, gloves, and foot gear...oh, my!

Until just lately, that is.


Little guy:  "Hey mom, I left my gear bag unzipped after practice and it doesn't smell."

Note...his habit for about a year now has been to leave all his gear (including his mouth guard and cup) crammed, zipped up in his bag, until the next class.

Me:  "OMG, you had an epiphany!"

Little guy:  "That's stupid mom."

Me:  "I'm a poet and I didn't know it."

Little guy:  "That's even stupider mom."


I may be stupider, but it sure does smell better 'round these parts!

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