I have made a blue flower!
And purple... just for you!
There's a rose patch at the church I've been going to. Alongside the sanctuary. I almost took some shots the other night, Wednesday evening, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself nor have any curiosity as to why. So I snuck back this evening. Just something to do.
That is a factor... as if you're a kid making something for to present to Mom and she'll fawn over it and put it on the refrigerator. LOL There is actually a hormonal hit; I forget - dopamine? Some endorphin. I do feel better after getting something to 'work up' and am ever fascinated by the digital capability. Yes, I'd really like to take a class. Although I can imagine silkscreening the first picture on a t-shirt, or sequencing multiplicity design on a fabric, I wouldn't have any commercial aspirations.
They do sort of remind me of the designer Vera and her sheet collection from 1968! Florals, but dabbed on the screen freehand. I did very well selling her ensemble at Bloomingdale's, along with Bill Blass and Pierre Cardin. Pricey sheets and pillowcases. Then the dusters and spreads. I made 2% commision working in the Domestics Department, above and beyond the hourly wage. 20 hours a week. Pretty good. Saved just about all of it. Had half scholarship toward the $2000 college tuition commencing 1970, paid the rest myself.
Funny story, sort of... worked Saturdays, Tuesday and Thursday evenings. There was a fellow who'd come of an evening and stare at me on the floor. A couple of times he followed me into the bathroom, leering at me. The final straw was when, as I sat on the commode, he peeked through slit between door and stall divider. I swear; can still see his reptilian eye. Because it was a work situation, I couldn't knock the shit out him. I said nothing. He followed me back onto the sales floor.
I went over to a fellow in Bath and Beyond-like who was very fey and cool enough we got along fine. He was thirtyish; I was sixteen. I figured he was gay... whatever. I told him what was going on and asked him to tell that pervert that I was straight and my girlfriend was Mafios connected. He did so. Never saw him again.
That is a factor... as if you're a kid making something for to present to Mom and she'll fawn over it and put it on the refrigerator. LOL There is actually a hormonal hit; I forget - dopamine? Some endorphin. I do feel better after getting something to 'work up' and am ever fascinated by the digital capability. Yes, I'd really like to take a class. Although I can imagine silkscreening the first picture on a t-shirt, or sequencing multiplicity design on a fabric, I wouldn't have any commercial aspirations.
They do sort of remind me of the designer Vera and her sheet collection from 1968! Florals, but dabbed on the screen freehand. I did very well selling her ensemble at Bloomingdale's, along with Bill Blass and Pierre Cardin. Pricey sheets and pillowcases. Then the dusters and spreads. I made 2% commision working in the Domestics Department, above and beyond the hourly wage. 20 hours a week. Pretty good. Saved just about all of it. Had half scholarship toward the $2000 college tuition commencing 1970, paid the rest myself.
Funny story, sort of... worked Saturdays, Tuesday and Thursday evenings. There was a fellow who'd come of an evening and stare at me on the floor. A couple of times he followed me into the bathroom, leering at me. The final straw was when, as I sat on the commode, he peeked through slit between door and stall divider. I swear; can still see his reptilian eye. Because it was a work situation, I couldn't knock the shit out him. I said nothing. He followed me back onto the sales floor.
I went over to a fellow in Bath and Beyond-like who was very fey and cool enough we got along fine. He was thirtyish; I was sixteen. I figured he was gay... whatever. I told him what was going on and asked him to tell that pervert that I was straight and my girlfriend was Mafios connected. He did so. Never saw him again.
This one is real; as is.
Applied an acrylic finish toward softening.
Something of a coincidence: downloaded a collected W.B. Yeats for $.99. The women in my family are of Irish descent. This is one of my favorites. Read paper version some thirty years ago. Several rosie poems... from what I gather, connection with Rosicrucians. That I can do without. DaVinci Code babble.
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