Dancing with crocodiles
Originally uploaded by scroobious_pip
Sunday afternoon and I’m pondering work. Well, work but not work. I’m not questioning how I’m going to complete my latest data segmentation. Rather, I’m wondering how to slice ping pong balls in half, without slicing my fingers at the same time. Yes, believe it or not, that is work! This is another example of why they call it the silly season. Emails are issued from managers who either genuinely love to ‘glitter and be gay’ or they think that they need to empower people to take on some christmas cheer for the benefit of team culture. Whatever the reason, on Friday morning my first email of the day was from my boss saying we needed to decorate our area in the theme of “9 sleeping crocodiles” and do so on Monday morning. Out of 6 possible “we”; only 3 were in actually in the office on Friday. (One I really can’t criticise since they are but a thought of an employee… a recruitment ad and just past resume reviews). So the 3 who were in the office discussed it. Well, colleague 1 said to colleague 2 – do you know we have to decorate? To which colleague 2 replied, ‘I heard’.
So to get nine crocodiles, I need to cut ping pong balls in half and draw eyes on them so they are look like they are emerging from swamp water. Given that I am allergic to shops in December (amazing condition that I share with a small but significant portion of the population), I walked up to the local street shops hoping that the $2 store was open and they had ping pong balls. That they did – for $1.30 for six. I know I’m not the first to comment on the strangeness of $2 stores selling items for more and less than $2. But here’s one I bet you’ve not been asked… why are freckles call freckles?
They look nothing like a freckle. Well, if I had freckles like that I think I’d be somewhat alarmed. Why aren’t they called blotches? Probably some marketer thought freckles would sell better than blotches. I really can’t see why. And while I’m asking questions critical to the survival of our species why are the little bits on top called 100s and 1000s? Which ones are the hundreds and which the thousands? They look the same to me.
After considering why freckles were called such I continued to glare at the lolly filled shelves. I could have snakes; chocolate frogs; jelly babies; bananas but no bloody crocodiles. They even have dinosaurs! I think the crocodiles of Australia should unite and take their case to the anti-discrimination board of sweets. If indeed there is such a thing as a crocodile confectionary, please set me straight now before I whip up a revolution in these much unloved reptiles.
Skeletons require teapots
Changing topic entirely (yes procrastination at completing the work project); I have attempted to add a teapot for one of my skeletons. (Triptych of paintings featured top right). One of the skeletons already has a violin. I’ve work on the piece more since the above photograph was taken and the violin is now much more prominent. I feel that the other two may be jealous. Their friend has music and they have nothing. Why a teapot? Well, why not. I’ve used teacups and teapots before in my art. I like their shape and their quirkiness and sub-consciously it’s probably just another connection to alice in wonderland. I also thought about a rhinoceros. I like them too. I tried to think what a skeleton would need? My mother suggested a handbag and I told her that I had already thought of a suitcase. Mum did remind me that most people would say chains or something more traditional. That just doesn’t work for me. I need to inject some warmth into the piece. Really, who wants to look at skeletons with chains… yawn!
Teapot drawing hampered by cat
I failed in the teapot drawing stakes. It wasn’t my technical drawing ability. Rather this furry friendly thing that kept knocking my hand off the canvas. So pleased I had a stick of graphite in my hand rather than paint. Anyway, half way through I realised that the teapot was really too fat for the space. I need something longer. A hatstand perhaps… that could be cool. Every skeleton needs a selection of hats; I have little doubt this is the case.
The logical path
Hmmm… when confronted with the thought of making crocodile paraphenalia for work on a sunday afternoon there is really only one logical path. Nanna nap time.