Mythic

I glazed mugs for Great Harvest Friday. The side facing the (right-handed) customer has a logo impressed by rubber stamp, the reverse side one of my bird or animal paintings. Gordo, the owner, gave me a list of favorite patterns, some usual--hummingbird, horse, bear--some less so: platypus, walrus. He also said his five-year-old daughter would really like it if I could do a unicorn.

Here's the thing: I live in Eugene. Home of Fairyworlds, the Oregon Country Fair, and many, many old hippies. I long ago decided to limit my paintings to things I could see. Actual, non-mythical (and non-extinct) animals and birds, so there could be no argument about whether I was doing it right. (Except the time a wildlife biologist pointed out that Northern Spotted Owls have brown eyes.) I don't do dinosaurs, dragons, mermaids and unicorns. Really.

Oh what the hell. I made her a unicorn.

This damn pandemic

It's breaking my heart. Saturday Market just distributed their requirements for reopening, and I'm gonna have to suspend my "Please Touch" policy for the duration.

Sigh.