I sold the piece I entered up in Baltimore, this piece to be precise. I won’t be sure of how much I get for it until I get the check (it was an art auction), but it’s at least 50 bucks (I started at $100, and the gallery keeps 50%). Entirely too little, based on the amount of work that went into it, but at the same time, it’s a piece that I don’t like as much as others, and is thus not very likely to be in my wall anytime soon. And thus, $50 in my pocket sure beats a painting sitting and collecting dust in the closet. Better for me to have one less thing to keep track of, better for the painting to have someone that appreciates it more then I do. I’ve got scans as well, so I can continue my magical fantasy of selling prints of all of this stuff to eager buyers.
I finally got around to reading The Tipping Point, which gave me mild Freakonomics flashbacks and makes me want to go prowl around the social sciences section of Ye Local Library. Also need to get ahold of the two pre-Miles Bujold books at some point. Read her fantasy book “Curse of Chalion”, it was OK but fantasy just doesn’t seem to be my cup of tea, methinks. Either that, or I’m reading the wrong kind of fantasy.
The cats were getting all yowley last night and staring at me with googoo eyes, as it was dinner time. So I got out my camera and decided to mess with them. They’re so used to eating out of the bowl, I wondered what would happen if I just laid the bag of food down in front of them. Took them awhile, sniffing around and staring at me and such, but eventually they figured out what was going on. Kinda.
They each managed to nibble a little bit, then wandered off, apparently bored with the exercise, deciding that waiting for dinner wasn’t worth dealing with this weird bag that also extruded food. I want to put little saddles on them and get gerbils in cowboy hats to ride on them.