His Magesty, the Queen

"When you become the image of

your own imagination, it's the most

powerful thing you could ever do."

-RuPaul

"His Majesty, the Queen"

All works are copyrighted and all rights are reserved by the artist.

My original paintings are available in my online gallery.

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The Queen

I'm madly in love with tearing up catalogs and magazines and creating art inspired by all that rich color and texture.

"The Queen"

Most of my paintings are for sale and I welcome commissions.
Please click the links below to share my blog.
I'd love to hear from you...feel free to leave me a comment.  

This painting is part of a year-long online art class (instructor Annie Hamman).

Eating my Words

OK, so weirdly enough, I'm writing two blog posts in a row that involve gray hair.  Perhaps it's because I recently had photos taken of myself and my delightfully sweet husband zoomed one up super close and pointed out that I do, in fact, now have a few gray hairs (I say they're just a lighter shade of blond than the rest of my hairs, not that going gray is a big problem for me or anything).  Perhaps I've just been lucky to run into some slightly older-than-I peers of late.

Anyway, as Hazel and I were running up a hill tonight I caught up with a woman.  I didn't see her face as I only saw her from the back, but she had salt and pepper hair.  I had the silly thought to myself, "Hey, I'm still faster than someone."  And then Hazel had to pee, so I stopped.  I heard the pitter patter of feet approaching us...and than that lovely salt and peppered woman ran right by us, full tilt.  Hazel and I started running again, at our regular pace, and that woman totally left us in her dust.

I love surprises.

I love eating my words (or thoughts).

I love running.

I love.

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Pain on the Periphery

Driving in my car...the kid turns on the radio...

And it was Journey.  Now I am a child of the 80s, after all, so of course I still manage to hold on to at least fifty percent of the lyrics.  I start singing along.  The kid hates it.  I decide that today, just today, I'll not make a sound.  But I am going to act out the song as best I can.


Little guy:  "You're hurting my peripheral vision, mom."


And throwing caution to the wind, I kept it up for the whole song.  I figure on Monday morning I'll schedule an appointment with his optometrist.

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My Fanny Pack...I love her so!

Because I'm so fond of sassing it up, and because I really want to have my children driven to hang out with me, and because I'm all about being a trend setter...I am personally bringing the fanny pack back.  Yes, it's sassy.  It's the same awesome black and pink one I've had since the late 80s.  Yes, my children jump at the chance to join me when I'm wearing it.  OK, that's a lie.  And yes, I am personally bringing the fanny pack back. 

You know, it's one of those things that purely reeks of utility.  It doesn't even try to be anything else.  It's hands free, it holds stuff, it rocks.

And to complete my evening look (atop my delightful spandex), I've decided to attach a blinky light for when the sun actually sets.

Yup, sassy, useful, safe...it rawks!

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Feelin' Fancy!

Ya know, it's the small things, it turns out.  It really is.  You see, the other day at work I decided that I really, really needed something to eat on.  OK, back up.  I always eat my lunch in my classroom when my class goes outside with my assistant.  Now I could go to the lounge, but I really, really love alone time, so I gift myself with some of that every day at work.  What I used to do was sit at my desk, place my food on top of spiral notebooks or some such thing to keep containers that had condensation on them from getting all over my desk which has a freakish problem with being damaged by the tiniest bit of water.

Anyway, the other day I decided that I was special enough to deserve a better scene...so, being my crafty self, I got a large piece of construction paper, tore up many, many colorful pieces of tissue paper, glued them on the paper, and then laminated it the next morning when it was dry.

And I tell you what, this girl is feeling mighty fancy with her one-of-a-kind Kali original place mat.  Yup!  And it goes perfectly with the cloth napkins I pack in my lunch. 

Fancy is as fancy does, people.

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Lookin' good...Feelin' wimpy

So the young one has been totally manning up lately.  Not the rising to the occasion and taking care of stuff kind of way...a little, but that's not what I'm talking about.  I mean in the bulky muscles kind of way.  It's something to behold that kind of transformation that comes with absolutely no effort, purely built by teenage boy testosterone.

As he walked around the kitchen tonight in a muscle shirt...


Me:  "You are so good lookin'."


He looks at me, comes over beside me, leans in and...


Little guy:  "You have tiny muscles."


Hmmmm...not sure what the right response is, but I'm pretty darn sure it isn't "Thank you."

Might just be a good time to ask him to tighten his abs and let me sock him in the stomach a few times.  It's win-win.  He feels like a stud...I get to slug him.

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