House Of Curmudgeons

It may not stick around, but for the past few days it has fully been spring here in Edmonton. The sidewalks of our neighborhood are ice free and covered in gravel or wet sand, people are out in t-shirts merrily chipping away the last vestiges of ice and lawns and flower beds are bare and showing the sad and withered remnants of last summer. I have towels at the front and back door in rotation to clean dog feet and keep the sand being tracked in from outdoors down to a minimum. The windows were open for most of the day, I barely needed a coat to go to the market today and I picked up some lovely ready-to-burst tulips in a pot while at the market, mostly so I could draw them and plant them in the front bed when they are finished blooming and permeating the studious-little-flat with their lovely fragrance. Next week could be a blizzard, I realize that, but for right now I am not wearing socks and it's spring, dammit!

With spring also comes the yearly neighborhood canvasing of the JW's. I don't answer the door and I am about ready to leave them a note asking them kindly to stop ringing the doorbell everyday. The dogs go crazy and it scares the shit out of me when they do. It goes from peaceful and lovely to ringing bells, skittering feet and frantic barking. With the nice weather, the kids across the road have taken to playing street hockey on the small patch of road in front of our house. I like it. Coltrane does not. She sits tall on the ottoman, making low, disapproving growls whenever there is too much movement or yelling or a high stick. She's a very watchful and nosy neighbor. So between Coltrane giving the kids hell under her puppy breath for having too much fun outside, the JW's coming by daily to talk to me about God and making the dogs insane, (is my house marked with a black 'X' for 'non-believer' or something? Plus, why the hell are they trying the back door after I won't answer the front? Persistent fellas.) and me refusing to answer the door for them and any other door knockers, I have labeled us 'The House Of Curmudgeons'. Don't call on us. We're busy ignoring you!

The perils of having a studio at home.

Amidst all the fracas of the day, I worked on this:


It's a slightly keystoned detail of a piece that isn't a Toronto graffiti alley. Are you impressed?! It's still a Toronto scene, but it's from a rad shot I took off the steps of the AGO after seeing the Alex Colville exhibit last fall. I have this one and one more to complete and then I'm ready to hang my show at the Artery this Friday.

And then I begin on the next show.

Hopefully the door-knockers settle down so I can get some work done without taking a break to calm down my four-legged security alarms.