NFS Best Buddies

I spent an afternoon last week messing around with a sketch of my two grandsons. They live clear across the country in Seattle.

I've used these two quite liberally in a few of my paintings over the years, and while this is not a very good representation, it was nevertheless great fun, and almost like having them right here in Maine. They are after all, my best little buddies, who also happen to be best buddies.

Best Buddies • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • NFS

SOLD - Goldfish

A friend posted a photo of the new pink Goldfish packaging for "Princess" goldfish crackers on Facebook the other day. This is corporate America at its best. It will do anything to pump sales to girls, but not a whole lot to pump their mother's pay scale!

I don't eat these things, but was curious about them, so did a little digging and found out the crackers were invented by a man named Oscar J. Kambly in 1958, who launched them through his Swiss company called Kambly. It was just a puffed cheese-free fish-shaped cracker called a Goldfischli. They’re still available under their original brand in Switzerland. In 1962, Pepperidge Farm (now owned by Campbell's Soup Corp) founder Margaret Rudkin brought the recipe for the cracker back with her after a trip to Switzerland. Her company created Finn the goldfish as the mascot - no one knows why he wears sunglasses.

Goldfish • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250

#274 Scanning the Skies

A stargazer by nature, I spent an inordinate amount of time in my youth during the month of October scanning the skies for witches and flying monkeys. I was terrified, thanks to the Wizard of Oz movie we all dared each other to watch every year on TV.

These days, when the moon is full out in the countryside, I look for Eliot and E.T., the result of many years of therapy.

Scanning the Skies • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250

#273 Fall Weirdness

The big fall rollout has begun. Up in the western mountains it is well underway.

I find this time of year fascinating. There's an element of something otherworldly at work out there as the countryside begins to morph. It might have something to do with the hazards of shrinking daylight hours - like getting caught in the dark on an evening walk. We forget that a giant twisted fallen limb up ahead on the side of the road is just that, and that the rustling of those little leaf tornadoes are simply a dying daytime breeze. There are no giant hissing lizards in Maine, we assure ourselves.

Fall Weirdness • 8" X 8" acrylic framed to 12" X 12" • $250