For a long time, I have been a little too “colour inside the lines” for my own liking, in many parts of my life. Today, I am not making a metaphor, I am talking about art.

Yesterday’s virtual course Pen & Paint - Paint & Pen! by Danny Gregory was a perfect path out. In three short hours, Peter and I each sketched and painted (or painted and sketched depending on the technique) four individual fish (see below). 

I quickly embraced the idea offered that “there is no federal quality inspector coming to judge my fish” and went from precision to who gives a damn?!  I would never choose to paint fish so that made it even easier to not care.  I think Danny likely knows this.

Peter gave me the course as a thoughtful Christmas gift. He never shys away from giving me creative wings and I love him for this. He’d taken courses from Danny Gregory’s Sketchbook Skool before, and knew there would be value here for me. 

Admittedly, I arrived in front of the screen feeling impatient and not in the mood for three hours of art. A lot had been going on in my week and I felt reluctant to commit my Saturday afternoon. My impatience continued for the first 30 minutes. A bit too much time was spent on set up. But once we got though that, I could have kept going all day.  There really is magic in learning in real time with a good teacher, my partner, and 400 other people from around the world. 

A few techniques will stick with me for sure (wet on wet, glazing etc.)  What I most remember, though, is the exhilaration of creating my fish however I wanted. I can bring this into my printmaking life. It’s time to carve looser lines and print pink foxes! 

First the inspiration images provided, followed by the fish painting.

Monk Fish

Reference Image

My Sketch

Orange Roughy

Reference Image

My Sketch

Big Mouth Bass

Reference Image

My Sketch

Perch

Reference Image

My Sketch

We just “put Christmas away” for another year. It is always a relief. This time I said a special thank you to Nanny Chandler (via her treetop, that I am grateful to gave). She was a formidable, insistent, generous woman, and she taught me a lot.

Peter and L. have a fondness for our disco light treetop too. Peter especially seems fascinated that a little upside down cup inside the dome spins when heated slightly by the bulb. It is a sight to see. It makes us feel like the spirit of Nanny comes to visit us each Christmas.  

On the first day of ‘26 I printed a red fox. It is my first animal. I enjoyed this simple project a lot. There will be more. 

 

I might have just “fixed” the “it won’t drain” problem in our washing machine “by myself”! 

In 14 minutes, I’ll know. Let’s say 30 minutes, because we all know that front load washing machines lie about the minutes remaining. 

I tried being next level, like my partner Peter, and downloaded the LG Thinq app, but I think our washer is dumb. I debated whether it was wise to risk running a cycle after I did all the drain stuff. Peter would have tried harder to find a way to run a spin-only cycle first.  He is patient and meticulous. I, on the other hand, decided to channel my father, and bullishly started the cycle.

Now I’m sitting on the top of the closed toilet to keep a watchful eye.  So far, Speedwash: The Movie is humming along. In a half hour, I’ll either have clean towels or a flooded floor. Naturally, I’m hopeful for the former. 

Appliance draining, disgusting clean up jobs, and all matters mice are usually Peter’s domain. Sadly, he—our Director of Gross Departments— broke his arm on Thursday :( He innocently misstepped while box jumping, after having completed 55 successful jumps. My friend Alana says having a sports injury is way cooler than slipping in the shower. Sadly, the hurt is the same. 

We tag-teamed the washer repair. And I am actually thrilled to help. Peter did his usual web searches for video answers. I am the on-site appliance repair person. He talked me through the manual draining step over FaceTime. And told me how to clean the filter. After that, I flew solo as he had to go. Many lasagne pans full of water later. And after cleaning a very clogged filter, there are only “2” minutes left in the cycle…

I am not going to dance yet. 

1 minute…

No water on the floor. Vigorous spinning…

Ahhh…done! The machine is singing and I am dancing to the finish song. The washer may not be SMART but I am. And I learned that I can still handle some gross when needed! 

I landed in Montreal on Saturday evening, and couldn’t settle myself, even though I was with my long-time friend Monica. We were both hyper, or ungrounded. Or so it felt to me. We later blamed it on the heat, and worries about our planet warming up. But I knew, for me, it was more about leaving my responsibilities at home with Peter, and being away from L, who is at camp, and O who is going through transitions. I was thrown off by all my parts getting louder, as I took an “self-indulgent break”.  

The heat has proven itself a central character in my Montréal visit for sure. So too have sloth, greed, gluttony, and the rest of the gang of deadly sins, those loud self-judgy parts that live inside me. 

All the sins are on exhibit at Musée beaux-arts Montréal in an exhibition called Bad Girls (or Présumées coupables). This is what got me thinking about why I feel shame when I have too much fun, too much privilege, too much freedom. 

Have you ever felt badly for celebrating yourself, prioritizing rest over productivity, losing your cool, feeling jealous, acting on natural desires to have nice things, eat good food, or experience intimacy?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes.  

It had never occurred to me that the “seven deadly sins” were a Christian morality code, created in The Middle Ages. Nor did I know that the patriarchal ruling class so feared feminine power that they weaponized shame as a means of controlling it. 

The gallery was filled with images like the one below. I was interested both in the images themselves, all quite ugly depictions of women, and also in the print versions of the artist’s original drawings, mirror images, with some refinements made in turning them into prints.  

I saw the exhibit with Monica, but had another, seemingly unrelated but not unrelated at all, conversation over lunch today with my long-time amigas, Sonia and Karina. Our chat was about gender and sexuality. Our views are wide ranging and I found it all quite provocative. One cannot have highly intelligent women friends and not have their thoughts provoked, after all. 

But I’ll stick to the deadly sins for now. I find it sad that concepts started centuries ago, passed down through generations, can, centuries later, steer my ship. This nagging sense of guilt I carry, a sense that who I am is not enough or somehow wrong, plays too central a role in my life.

In the end, it’s been a wonderful, reconnecting, thought-provoking, thought-defending week. I’ve delighted. I’ve been stirred up. I’ve shared a lot, and I’ve kept quite a few thoughts to myself. I’ve felt joy. Guilt. A little shame. Even anger. 

But, my God, the gluttony was delicious.