death and oranges

Been alone with the kids for a few weeks. 

I fought with a painting, put it aside, started over with a smaller canvas. The eyes and nose are still pissing me off, but I'll get them under control after blocking in the dress.

I'll taper those reaching fingers a bit more on the next pass, make them a little less human. The orange is doing ok, I'll soften the shadow. 

Oranges and sneaky hands is a theme I come back to because of stories my mother tells about thieving creatures of the night and the temptation of fruits you can't find in the underground . 

(Chronicles of Muu is about one of these guys - link in side bar)

chicken update

I let Plucky out of the coop to exercise the babies, and she went into full fighting cock mode, chasing me around the yard with my skirt in her beak, trying to slash it to ribbons with her heel spurs. That is gratitude for you. And the chicks are still small enough that they roll down the roosting ramp like dumplings, so she puts her head out and looks at me expectantly until I come scoop the little dingdongs up in handfuls and stuff them up into bed with her. 

She's back in the coop until I can figure out how to build a playpen with the roll of chicken wire I bought. 

I've got a stack of coop-building books and a hammer. I can do this. 

I'll be billing her for the shredded hippie skirt.