Day 216: Flying Folk
Chester seems awfully perturbed lately by this perpetually barking dog in our neighborhood. I often wonder what he is barking about non-stop like this. Is he akin to the dude I walked past in SF last week shouting “THE END IS NEAR”? Or is it something more like “Hey! Is that a pigeon? My fence is in the way! I can’t see! Other dogs! Help me out! IS THAT A PIGEON ON MY LAWN?!?! If it is, F&*$ OFF, PIGEON!!!!” Perhaps he was so animated today because he wanted to shout from the rooftops about the state Supreme Court’s decision that Prop 8 is unlawful! (Woohoo! Finally some sense in this mad world!) Chester doesn’t bark back, so I’m not sure if they even speak the same doggie language.
The oil portrait is chugging along (today was hair), and it’s getting kind of eerie. I’m not used to faces in my studio staring back at me all day- that look like me, no less. So today I did the 6th of these little dictionary page city illustration mini-canvases- ‘Flying Folk’.
There are some hills in San Francisco that make you wish you could fly, just in case you take a wrong step and go tumbling down some insane gradation. And SF has a history of ‘flying’ in another sense, if you catch my not-so-subtle-drug-reference. So it seemed funny to me.
This page includes some other intriguing nuggets as well, like folderol, flying squirrel, foible, fog (hee hee, too perfect!) and Fokker- which, apparently, is a German plane, which my husband knew without reading the definition. He would be the 1 guy out of 100 whom, if polled by Family Feud about “What’s a Fokker?”, would answer “A Plane”.