Skip to main content

Apples and Pears, Practically Free

I was standing in an unusually long line at the register of the craft store waiting to buy dowel rods and things for Daughter No. 2. She needed to build a suitable cage-like thing to protect an egg in her physics class—you know, that egg-drop project that kids have been doing for years. So, I was standing there waiting and waiting and waiting, and I fell prey to the $1 bins. No. 2 said more than once, "you don't need that," but when something is only $1, of course I do need it, and there is no arguing.

I got a bag of clips, the kind you clip on chip bags to keep chips from going stale. I use those things for frozen peas and powdered sugar and whatever else I don't want spilling all over the pantry. And then I bought these—two small canvases stamped with the outline of an apple and a pear. And I bought a small pack of acrylic paint. It's all crap, I realize, but I needed it. All of it. And all for just a $1 a piece.

I have never painted with acrylics, and I suspect these crappy little tubes are not the thing to learn with, especially if all my paint brushes are watercolor brushes. Here is what I created anyway.

Yes, I know real fruit doesn't come in these colors, but that's not the point. The point is to create, and since I had no idea what I was doing, I created these artistic beauties. I feel a new obsession coming on, and I feel the need for more cheap canvases stamped with fruit.

Alan Alda and Carol Burnett made a middle-aged buddy movie years ago called Four Seasons. One of the female characters was a constipated photographer who photographed nothing but fruit and vegetables for years and years. I think I'll become her but with acrylics instead of film.

Comments

dive said…
Wow!
Those are great, Robyn!
That looks too much fun.
Hey, weirdly enough, you, Rich and I have all posted art posts today.
Robyn, there's no end to what you can do with fruit. Although I don't usually take photos of it much unless it's hanging from a tree or a vine.

Dive, I guess we can call this artsy Monday. :))
Utsav said…
Robyn, these do look like fun, although I just plain suck at anything artsy. Your 3Ding is so great. The whole idea, including the image of you sitting down and painstakingly doing it, seems quite cute to me :). Do keep us posted on more fruits.
Scout said…
Dive, it's like a coloring book but with stretched canvas. As with crayons and paper, I am not much for staying within the lines.

Rich, fruit is easily recognizable at least, and relatively simple.

Utsav, I am many things, and cute is one of them.
Anonymous said…
Good for you Robyn - they are such fun paintings. There is some budding creativity in there.
Google Rebecca Hayward and have a look at her art. She is David Bellugi's wife - lives and paints in Florence, Italy. You might be inspired to create beyond the realm of the everyday. I rather think that there might be some interesting compositions lurking in the subconcious of Robyn's mind!!
Gina said…
For a buck, those are pretty darn good!
Alifan said…
Oh dear now I will have to get my drawing cupboard open again, you have made me want to start drawing....

Dive and Full started to draw at school and so I gave up when they brought their great artistic items home.....

Still I did decide when I was 30 (OMG that was a while ago) to go to evening classes and actually passed an O level exam then....

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...