This post brought to you by NPR and a local vendor.
Firstly, I heard a story on NPR yesterday about Romero Britto. He's an artist. He's an artist who believes that making art about happy things, and then making it widely accessible, is just as viable as starving in a garrett somewhere turning out dark smudges of angst on cardboard.
An example of the "happy art":
Before yesterday, I didn't know Romero Britto. I am hopelessly uninformed, or so it would seem, because apparently the guy is ubiquitous in Miami and Europe.
You know, the WORLD.
For those of you who are also maybe no so familiar with Romero Britto, go here to see more of his stuff, to wander his empire (which consists of a 70-person factory that assists him in creating his works, right down to some folks who help him color in his art.....), to assess whether or not you believe that happy art in bright cartoon colors is the right art for you.
Then, turn the page, and go visit our dear friend Malach. I know that Malach paints, but I didn't truly realize that Malach PAINTS.
You wouldn't expect it from a social services softball pitcher, would ya?
I like this one in particular:
Malach, how much does that one go for? I'd buy that before any of the Brittos I've seen....
Spent the night on the couch last night. The AC is coughing its last humid breath, so it would appear. The bedroom is the hottest room in the house, and last night was cloyingly damp to boot. It was like trying to breathe inside a puppy's lungs...
Pneumatic comparators, they flow.
The AC dude has already been called. I can't spend another night knowing that my lovely bed is 20 feet away but it's too hot to sleep on it.
Did some weeding out in the front last night.
That thing about mosquitoes only coming out at dusk? A LIE.
12 bites and 1 wheelbarrow full of weeds later, it was a done deal. Phewf.
The suckerpunch bit, of course, is that it will need to be done again, very very soon. Unphewf.
Have yourselves a dandy day, people. I'mma off to work now to conquer! Something!