« March 2012 | Main | May 2012 »
I am up to my eyebrows in projects.
They line my pockets and peek out of my sleeves.
They clamour for my attention.
However...
You, dear reader, dear friend, deserve a little attention too. And I wanted to clarify something. I asked about the beginning of May. Sweet May of flowers and birthdays and other spring things. May is also a new month, and with a new month comes a new giveaway. I've got something in mind...
Unless you have a better idea?
We'll talk soon.
xoxo
How I wish ...
The end of April.
Almost May.
You know what that means, don't you?
They were never meant to last, you know.
These were just the records of daily life.
Business as usual.
An accounting of facts.
And yet here they are.
100 years later.
200 years.
300 years.
Pored over. Cherished.
Ink and paper having become a currency of their own.
Those ruffles from yesterday?
A corner view of the most swoon-inducing pile of old French stencils.
A few brass, but mostly zinc.
Well worn. Well used. Layer upon grotty peely chippy painty layer.
Utter fabulousness in terms of fonts and styles and heart-twanging serifs.
What letter is imprinted on your heart of hearts?
This is a particularly fetching example of rufflishness.
Do you know what it is?
I'm not sure if this fellow started out in life as a pull-toy. Perhaps,like many of us, years had passed before he realized what he had become.
He is a mishmash of wood and composite, with metal ears and iron rods in his legs. He has been unceremoniously bolted to a wooden base, with checkers nailed on for wheels. He lists heavily to the left.
And yet, he still stands proud, confident that he has worked hard.
That he has done his best.
Enamel and rust.
Lifeblood of the Brocante.
And then the scribbles took on a life of their own.
They moved into their own shadow boxes.
Took their accessories with them.
And lived happily ever after.
I've been playing with Scribbler.
Scribbling.
And scribbling some more.
And then
when I am all finished
I scribble
one
more
time.
