Above: That's me and a small friend on the left. I'm taking my first "selfie." (No filters were used. No adjustments were made to this image.)
Actually I've taken "selfies" before—like the time I came home from the allergist and started to get huge, unsightly welts all over my body, even though I'd waited the required 30 minutes; I like to have visual aids when talking with the doctor—but that was before they were called selfies.
Friday I went off to visit a bird friend TJ. Her owner Jennifer wanted me to meet two other birds I'd not had the privilege to meet before. (More on that some other day.) I've sketched TJ at Paws on Grand and Wet Paint on numerous occasions.
Well during my visit TJ convinced me once again that baggy clothes are the way to go! After sitting happily on my shoulder for a couple minutes, and nuzzling my neck with her feathered head TJ dove down the wide open collar of my 2-sizes too large sweatshirt and t-shirt. She stayed down there quite sometime, stopped in her downward progression by the belt of my camerabag. It was like having a pouch, with something squirming around and nesting.
After a long while TJ did emerge, only to return again for a long sojourn, bored as the "adults" talked about what was going on with the two young men stuck in the alley ruts just outside the window—"Oh, they've got Arizona plates," I finally realized, that explains it. Minnesota boys know how to drive in the snow.
The following images are sort of sequential. TJ's owner took them as TJ disappeared, reappeared, and did it all again. Each time she probably wandered around in my shirt for 15 minutes or more. I just laughed and continued talking. You get the general idea. No captions necessary. I didn't sketch any drawings of TJ or the other birds because it would have been impossible to hold my paper near me while I sketched. I didn't want to squash her! And then I simply ran out of time as I was needed at the folks'.
The first sketch I could find of TJ is this study I made from a photo, but you get the idea of how she looks when she isn't blurry.
Click on any of the photos to view an enlargement. (I'm not quite sure how to line rows up in Typepad, so all I can say is they are 1, 2, 3 from left to right.
Later that night when I got ready for bed I took a shower and was surprised by all the tiny little claw marks all over my chest. "It looks like I had rough sex with the tooth fairy," I told a friend.
Below: I check out what TJ is up to down there. (And no, that's not Dottie. That's Emma my first Alaskan Malamute Bitch, on a shirt I made for clients one year. It reads: "Track with Your Dog…Find Jimmy Hoffa.")