Psssst...

I'm still around. Just caught up in a whirl of holiday, and vacation, and being sick. Whatever is going around, I got it - and it laid me low for about 2 weeks. For a while there, I was bound to the couch with a pack of tissues, chicken soup and hulu.com... but now I'm slowly getting back to the usual routine, including work and painting. No real updates painting-wise right at the moment, therefore, but perhaps I can entertain you with a few photos from a brief Philadelphia trip we took before the holidays? Here, I'll try:

Here's a tidbit from Reading Terminal... I'm still dying to know, WHERE IS JUAN???

I love this graphic from the airport bathroom: why do they feel they need to show you a baby's butt? In case you get confused as to what end of the baby to change?

We encountered some sort of drunken Santa convention on Walnut Street. Freakish.

That's it for now - more once I'm back up and in the usual groove...

Hohoho

Merry Christmas!

Bleak.

I've been feeling a bit bleak, cold, gray, wintery of late - kind of like this:Finally this overwhelming mood of "meh" is clearing and things are looking more positive. Aiding in this upward spiral was a recent visit to the Dorton Arena for a Carolina Rollergirls match (proper terminology: "bout"). Man, that roller derby is fun stuff. I still don't 100% understand the ins and outs of various fouls and penalties and such, but I figure I'll get there eventually. And if not, oh well - I *still* don't understand the various fouls and rules and details of basketball after 25 or so years, yet I manage to be able to get the general idea and enjoy the game.

Mostly, though, when watching the roller derby, it gives me the urge to find some good old-fashioned skates (NOT roller *blades*, tried that, I'm clearly not meant for rolling along "in-line") and skating around on my own. I'm not remotely brave enough to ever try the derby, though, I've already learned many times over that I am a fragile, prissy person, disinclined toward any activity which might risk - or, in this case, openly court - bodily injury.

I'd prefer to skate around solo... that's just how I roll.

P.S. By the way, this sign is still there, intact, saying the same thing. Maybe they really mean it! Enjoy! Enjoy!

Wonderland.

So I'm just about done with the painting I'm putting in the upcoming show at Flanders 311, "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" In case you don't get the reference, it's a riddle in Alice in Wonderland; this is an Alice-themed and -inspired exhibition. Here's the piece I'm putting in the show:

this is how it all begins 2008 oil on printed fabric (toile) 16"x20" ...by me, Diane Feissel

Enjoy.

Saw this sign at a dry cleaner's along Western Boulevard here in Raleigh:

...and I was very glad these guys don't own a hair salon. If you have any question as to what to be thankful for this holiday, you can start by being grateful that your dry cleaner is not louse-infested. Happy Thanksgiving!

More commissionage.

Now that I have my dance moves down straight, I'm ready to post another portrait commission piece I (finally) finished recently. Here's one I sent off to Illinois last week:

d - portrait commission, oil on canvas, 2008, 16"x20", by me, Diane Feissel.

Currently I'm finishing up a painting for the next group show at Flanders 311, which is an Alice in Wonderland-themed show. Wheeee. It will be up in December and January.

And when I'm finished with this painting, I will definitely be doing the cabbage patch. Whoooooyeah.

Something new, every day.

It's true what they say, you really DO learn something new every day! Whether or not that thing you learn is of earth-shattering importance, however, is another matter.

John and I both had a mutual revelation of the earth-shattering variety this past week; we realized we have both misidentified the following dance as the "Mashed Potato" for years and years:

WRONG! That, of course, is the "Cabbage Patch," despite the fact it appears to have nothing to do with cabbages or their patches (or those freaky-looking dolls). I mean, come on! Doesn't that kind of look like what one does when one makes mashed potatoes? Kind of? And yet, this dance is the "Mashed Potato":

So what exactly does this spazzy movement have to do with mashed potatoes? Stomping grapes, maybe.

I'm wandering off to initiate a local chapter of the C.T.M.S.S.D.H.T.R.N. (Committee to Make Sure Stupid Dances Have the Right Names).