I Hate Mondays

Especially when it snows! Here's another kitty picture.

I Hate Mondays, collage/acrylic on wood panel, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Planning on getting more painting done while the white stuff falls.

In Her Element (Commission #2)

In Her Element, 8 x 10, collage/acrylic

Elizabeth W. Seaver
sold

This for the commissioner's grand-daughter, a swimmer and singer.

(Though I am absolutely sure she would never compete in a flowered bathing cap.)

Thomas on a High Wire 28/30

Thomas on a High Wire, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

Life is hectic this morning, and I don't have time to to interview Thomas to find out his story. Will you please do it for me? 

Leave me a comment and tell me one thing about Thomas that I do not know. Right now, he's a blank slate.

Thank you for reading and following my blog, everyone. I appreciate you more than I can express.

Sunny Bird 27/30

Sunny Bird, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

A bicycle built for one, was in Sunny's opinion, the most wonderful invention--two-wheeled freedom under the summer sun. Because, let's face it, the nest was crowded, and some days he just needed to get away.

Billie was always hungry and squawking. Their parents had to fly far and wide to find enough to feed him. Millie was a happy sib, but had a piercing giggle which drove a spike through Sunny's eardrums and interrupted his reading. Pierce just wanted him to play pick up sticks all day, pulling on his wing and pulling him away from the sculpture he was building in his head. He loved his family, but he lived for the day he could move out and make his own nest.

When it all got to be too much, he jumped on his bike. He found that if he pedalled fast enough, the white noise as he cut through the wind made a perfect Sunny-sized space.

Oops! 22/30

Oops!, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6, Elizabeth W. Seaver

Sold

There comes a time in most parties when a little too much fun flies around the place. This time, poor Rachel got in its way. No one meant for her to wear a cupcake, but it happened, and once the shock wore off, everyone sped away laughing, leaving Rachel with icing dripping down her forehead.

How do you handle such a socially embarrassing moment? Do you stomp your prehistoric dinosaur feet and flounce home in a storm of plumage? Do you laugh with everyone else and find a sink to stick your head in? Or do you act cool and nonchalantly eat the cupcake off of your own head, acting like that's what you meant to happen?

Rachel is captured on the horns of a dilemma.

Off to Practice 20/30

Off to Practice, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

sold

I know, I know, "We're only on number 20?" Imagine how I felt painting them!

In lieu of a story for my painting today, I will treat you all to my favorite Christmas song ever. Enjoy!