Party Animal, Too

Party Animal, Too, collage/acrylc, 16 x 20

Elizabeth W. Seaver
sold

Happy New Year, everyone.

Have fun, but be careful. I'll see you all in 2013!

Would You Like to Swing with a Duck? 30/30

Would You Like to Swing with a Duck?, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

 

It is hard to believe that my 30+ day odyssey is over. All the paintings in my 30 x 30 show are up and out, and what a fun thing it has been to write and interact with my blogging friends about them. Thank you for joining me on my silly journey.

 

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"Peabody, can't you do anything right?" his teacher asked. "Everyone knows how to use a stapler--look at all these flat staples on the floor. Clean this up!"

 

"Peabody, I told you to clean your room. You've been daydreaming again, haven't you?" his mother fussed.

 

"Peabody can't ride a bike!" the neighborhood kids teased. "Peabody doesn't know anything, nyah, nyah, nyah."

 

Well of course none of that was true. Peabody was no different from everyone else. There was lots he was good at; it's just that it was hidden way inside, out of the view of most people most of the time. Inside, he created rich, complicated stories in his imagination. And far away from critical, prying eyes, he drew pictures to illustrate them. One day, he would publish his fabulous tales, and he'd show the whole world what he could do.

 

On top of that, as if there needed to be more, Peabody could swing. He was fearless and stretched himself completely horizontal, pulling himself straight up to heaven. The whistling wind and freedom from earthly troubles created a bubble of happiness all around him. He could feel it from the tip of his blood orange colored beak to his sunset toes.

No one could imagine or swing like Peabody.

 

 

Uphill Climb 29/30

Uphill Climb, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver

This was by far the dumbest scheme ever, Polly thought to herself as she pedalled at a snail's pace towards the rocky crest with the mountain biking club. Well, she was technically behind the mountain biking club rather than with them--way behind. I mean, in order to meet people, you actually had to talk to them, right? So far, when they'd stopped for breaks, she'd sweated, gulped, panted, tried to look nonchalant, chugged water and limped around trying to ease her charley-horsed muscles, but she'd not met one person or been capable of saying a single coherent word.

 

Back again in the saddle, which she noted was getting mighty sore, she began to be afraid that it was possible to pedal so slowly as to roll backwards down the mountain. She distracted herself by recounting all her efforts to make friends since she moved to California: a sky-diving fashion show (the heels were a daring choice of footwear, but hadn't actually been a great idea on the landing), extreme beach bathing (you haven't lived until you've gotten raging sunburn wearing a thong--for a time, she achieved a certain notoriety as That Thong Girl, but she hadn't actually made a single friend for her pains,) then there was the Saturday she went skating at Venice Beach. She felt grateful that her scabs had finally gone away, even though her technician winced when Polly went to have her legs waxed.

She looked up to see whether the top of the hill was any closer and blinked. Was someone actually waiting for her up there? And could it be the best looking biker in the bunch...ho, boy, was he adorable! She forgot her aching legs and burned out lungs, her dry mouth and her empty, complaining stomach, sat up straighter and accelerated to caterpillar pace to meet him.

When she got there, he said....."

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.

River Song 26/30

River Song, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6

Elizabeth W. Seaver
Sold

For my favorite singer/songwriter whose creativity flows from a river into which I will never step. Keep making your music.

Present 25/30

Present, collage/acrylic, 6 x 6, Elizabeth W. Seaver
Sold

Finally, on the third morning of shopping for it, Isadora found the perfect present for her friend Pilar for her birthday. It wasn't just an ordinary birthday present, one that would be played with a little while and then break or sit high on a shelf, forgotten. It was special. Isadora wanted it to say to Pilar what Isadora could not say out loud. She wanted the present to say thank you for hugging her when her kitty died and what fun they had when Pilar threw the surprise party for her and for the worm bisque Pilar made when Isadora got sick that time. It was hard to find a small token which expressed all those things and fit into a box, but she did! She wrapped it in paper and ribbon as beautiful as Pilar.

Crumbs were all that remained of the corn meal cake, and Pilar opened her gifts. The stack of gifts dwindled until one lovely pink box was left. Isadora sat breathlessly on her chair, hoping that when Pilar opened her gift, she would know all the warm feelings in Isadora's heart.

Pilar slowly untied the ribbon and draped it over her neck. She carefully pulled the tape off and placed the wrapping on a stack of paper to be reused throughout the year. "OH!" Pilar gasped when she finally removed the lid of the box and looked inside.

What was in the box? You tell me.