The June heat in Austin makes everyone cranky midday.

Part of Texas’ charm lies, to some degree, in its insanely diverse and bizarre bug population. I suppose this statement is purely subjective; I know an equal number of folks who think this fact is amusing and of people who think this fact is a nuisance. But it’s not a question of “half-empty” or “half-full,” but a matter of survival. Because when you pass things each day like, say, rat-sized tarantula wasps dragging impaled tarantulas across the road (and turning their heads to INSPECT you as you cross paths), it’s all about how you can handle the situation:

You could run, for instance, but this might make you attractive to such an aggressive predatory insect. This might also attract all the wandering ankle-biting neighborhood Cujos.

Or you could stand there, frozen like a deer, and hope that you might blend into the asphalt and surrounding trees. But the problem with that is the wasp might decide to fly over and hang out on your shoulder with its paralyzed tarantuala buddy before it decides to lay its EGGS in the abdomen of the totally doomed arachnid.

Don’t forget that you could also be hit by a truck rounding the corner while you stand there staring at the natural beauty.

Better yet, you could raise an eyebrow and whip out your Super Soaker (that you carry in the baby jogger when out for neighborhood walks, you know, for those roaming Cujos). But wouldn’t THAT just stir things up?

YEE HAW!

I’ve been browsing some wonderful little paintings by Amy Ruppel, another bird/egg aficionado. These are so buttery! I want to touch one–I believe they have a layer of wax embedded in them somehow? I’m hoping to hear back from Amy on her technique. FUN!

How cool!
Amy sent me this in her response (thanks, Amy!):
I use beeswax, indeed. I cover a piece of wood with wax I’ve colored with pigment, then collage on top paper birds and shapes I created digitally, then layer clear beeswax over that… then I sometimes (most of the time) draw back into the wax, and fill the lines with oil paint, then wipe the excess away. A quick pass with the propane torch, and it’s set in for eternity. Have you taken an encuastic painting class? it’s so much fun, and very rewarding. It’s such a forgiving medium, full of happy accidents!

It’s like setting up a new fort. This platform is taking some getting used to but in time it’s going to feel like a fun place to hang up ideas and document the time. Here is a photo of Ford and Chas atop the igloo-bed, atop the quilt my mother made during the 1972 summer olympics, while I was probably napping in a white wooden crib within a sunny yellow nursery, in a small fourplex on Vassar Lane, in the sweltering Houston heat.

Blogging time will likely be restricted to midnight hours, as every moment during the day is nowadays occupied with kidstuff. I can expect to grow red eyeballs and get more irritable with time, unless I start working in the quilting and crafting in the afternoons when Chas naps and Ford gets stir crazy–after all, the heat is stifling outside during the midday hours. In fact, I’m off to start his rock collection. I think he’ll enjoy learning about what makes the Hill Country so hilly and rugged.

blah blah blallh

Thank you for setting me up with MT, even if I know it was only because you were embarrassed for me to be seen under Blogger.

I have decided to get certified in order to teach art again at UT. I keep getting these urgent jabs into my conscience that Mrs. Ory is rolling in her grave, hoping I do so, that I may continue what I started ten years ago in Houston, during my first two summers off from college.

I have decided to get certified in order to teach art again at UT. I keep getting these urgent jabs into my conscience that Mrs. Ory is rolling in her grave, hoping I do so, that I may continue what I started ten years ago in Houston, during my first two summers off from college.

I have decided to get certified in order to teach art again at UT. I keep getting these urgent jabs into my conscience that Mrs. Ory is rolling in her grave, hoping I do so, that I may continue what I started ten years ago in Houston, during my first two summers off from college.

Here is One plus Two very good reasons to feel fortunate. Happy Father’s Day.
Love, s