In the Shadow 6 X 8 oil on linen panel
A recent upgrade in our phone lines resulted in a mandatory change of my phone number. I am now one digit off from an ” after hours spot ” known as a getaway for husbands and wives- not necessarily those who are there together.
At least 3 or more times a week, often in the wee hours after midnight, my phone rings next to the bed. It’s like a de-fib machine, startling me awake, with some voice asking if this is the club. Are they kidding? Why are you calling a club at 3 AM? How can you not know what number you’re calling at that hour? I’m not changing my phone again- I have cards, mailers, printed material and am not going to re-do everything.
Our other phone, which is a business number that rings in the house was also one digit off from a local electrical service company. Every day, we got calls from people looking to hire electricians.
Pre-dating these occurences was my time at home in my teen years when after finally getting my own phone, I was yet again, one digit off from a well known dance studio and fielded more wrong numbers. Usually resulted in slamming the phone down, feeling hugely disappointed that it wasn’t the object of my teenage heartbreak angst.
A funny pattern to follow you through your life, don’t you think?
I was careful not to have the lady in the shadow, above, have any digits off. She probably needs them all to dial my house at 3 in the morning when she’s looking for her boyfriend.
Maybe I need to release a few of these in the club to clear it out and allow me a good nights’ sleep……………
The title was not intended to refer to the case of the careless carpenter. He’s probably at the club too. Or working for the electrical company.
Tags: geckos, oil painting, St. Croix, wrong numbers
Asheville: The North West of The South East 
April 27, 2009 at 8:47 pm |
Another winner of a painting, Bonnie. I like the play between the red on her dress and wash of light in the background to her left.
A real gecko this time, not just a little anole. Threaten ’em all with a bushel full of these things if they don’t change their number!
April 27, 2009 at 10:05 pm |
A fantastic painting, Bonnie. I always love it when I’m notified that you have a new post. My desk is filled with … and you’re photographing a chartreuse gecko..and feeling a sense of finality with a new painting. It always makes me smile. I always stop to see what you’re up to and am never disappointed.
April 28, 2009 at 1:47 am |
Nice painting. I like the sense of depth created by the chiaroscuro of the subject and background.
I feel your pain about the phone number thing. My current bugbear with phones is tele-marketers from call centres (many in India). I know that a lot of them are just trying to make a living and I used to be polite with them in the past.
I’m not any more because I’ve been getting so many calls from them that it’s just ridiculous.
April 28, 2009 at 12:03 pm |
Great play of light and shadow in the painting. The darks move you around the painting nicely. Love how you convey personality in such a “painterly” way. Also love starting my day with one of your posts. You make me smile.
April 28, 2009 at 1:47 pm |
This Lady of the Shadows is lovely… you achieve so much with so few strokes! I like your use of complementary colors as well – very sophisticated and intuitive. But as beautiful a painting as this is, it is much more interesting with the “one digit off” story, which had me laughing out loud this morning! Believe me, with more snow in the forecast, it is hard to make me laugh out loud – but you have done it!!! 🙂 Thanks, Bonnie.
April 28, 2009 at 2:11 pm |
I thought there would be a Roald Dahl “Man from the South” connection in here somewhere. I wasn’t disappointed.
April 28, 2009 at 3:11 pm |
Don- amazes me how locals are terrified of these lovely mosquito eating beasts.
I’m happy with the way her dress is faded and washy looking.
Mary Ann- if I ever need to photograph a buffo toad, I’ll come to your garage.
Thanks for your sweet comments.
Razz- a ten dollar word: chirascuro. I love the sound of it and the look of it whether in photography, painting or real life.
JoAnn- always appreciate knowing you enjoy what you find here. It keeps my brush active and my typing fingers encouraged. Thanks for visiting again.
Joanne- sometimes I have no idea how I’m going to tie-in a painting to some random thought that might be related or might not be. But like snow in near May, it sometimes comes out of the blue. Sheesh, and it’s 90 in NYC, I hear.
Thanks for checking in again and surely spring is close.
Ross- best that I’m not a betting person. I need all of my digits. Willy Wonka AND Man from the South? The guy had some literary spread…….
April 29, 2009 at 12:57 am |
That’s pretty fascinating, Bonnie, I have to admit. I think you should start calling them – having all your friends and colleagues call them – “them” being the club, and asking them if they do portraits…….or something. What hours of the day would de-fib THEM??? Call at that time.
Ha Ha
But, meanwhile, I like this painting – the foggy, undefined character, but yet, the obvious gesture of the swayed posture and practiced exposure of the knee…………..
Again, you wrap up the essence in two dimension and living color!
April 29, 2009 at 2:43 am |
Scary title, Bonnie! I was hoping a hatchet wasn’t involved, and am grateful that it wasn’t.
Funny story, though. As annoying as it is, you’ve of course, made lemonade out of lemons while retaining all of your fingers. Brava!
April 29, 2009 at 3:44 am |
Nice painting, funny story, creepy lizard.
April 29, 2009 at 12:57 pm |
Solveg- ha! I love your idea of calling them. I’ve thought about putting on a refined British accent and saying we are now under new management, how may I direct your call!
Unique term: practiced exposure of the knee. I like that the best.
Thanks for the many good comments. Hope you’re feeling fine.
Terry- bet you know which club I mean. It’s annoying but at this point I give callers the correct number and they always apologize and sometimes we both laugh. Depends on how late it is.
Jala- yup- you said it all.
April 29, 2009 at 3:44 pm |
Gosh, Bonnie… That must be such a pain in the tooosh… (how DO you spell that word??)
Your blog succeeded once again in sending me off into my day with a BIG smile on my face!! Something for which I often thank you as a smile on your face is about the best thing to have these days.
Very nice very loose painting. As much as I admire the looseness.. I think I’ll NEVER be able to achieve it. but it’s fun working at it.
April 30, 2009 at 2:35 pm |
What a hoot! And what a fantastic piece of writing. You start with a fabulous painting and take us on an amusing winding journey of *%##$ until you bring us back.
First, my sympathies on your digits.
Second, I fear you may be going the way of words like Maggie Steifvater.
Some folks get compensated for aggravation with multiple talents.
April 30, 2009 at 5:10 pm |
Marian-some days it’s easier to put a smile on someones’ face than it is to get a good painting out. I’m glad when I can do at least one. If I get both accomplished, I’m thrilled.
Nancy- putting my name in the same sentence as Maggie- what a flattering notion.
Ah, but my painting muse is on a walk-out.
Thanks for your always terrific comments.
May 2, 2009 at 7:31 pm |
Your story made me thing about how my experience of hearing our phone ring has changed over the years. As you say, in my teen years, I looked forward to phone calls. Now I fear that it’s either a telemarketer of bad news. I much prefer email.
May 4, 2009 at 12:12 am |
Woman in the shadow, lizard in the light. Both interesting to look at.
Open a room for rent and charge $500 an hour. The advertizing is already paid for.
May 4, 2009 at 4:26 pm |
I think wrjones has a point! Opening a love hotel a domicile wouldn’t cost you a marketing dollar. You could be Bonnie of St. Croix, Madame and Artist.
My little cousin is getting married in August and his dad sent all of the out-of-town guests the hotel information… except the phone number he gave for the hotel advertised the merits of sexy female companionship… Not the kind of guests that may have found any humor in the petite mistake 🙂
May 6, 2009 at 10:00 am |
Indeed, when doing hands, always Always ALWAYS count to five… a missing digit can be quite critical.
She does look like she’s awaiting her boyfriend (or just about to call your house and inquire whether her husband is there).
Love your loose brush strokes and the fact you just hinted the figure and face rather than fully rendering every detail it. This is what I’m striving for. I am very good at striving… not so much at getting there.
May 8, 2009 at 2:03 am |
Funny, I’ve been accused of being one digit off. And your right on with this painting. No one digit off here. I really like the fresheness and the looseness in the way you handle a brush. Makes me know I need to loosen up some. It’s gonna happen.
Thanks,
Eldon