Under deep it's percolating

Even in winter, deep under the ground the seeds are percolating waiting to be birthed in spring.
{This is available as a print}

Hopper House-out back behind the barns where the wild rabbits winter. I pictured them the other night in the storm, hunkered down, safe and warm out the wind gusts.
{Can be made into a print, just email me}

Earnest the pig and his crazy quilt

Earnest inherited a crazy quilt from his great great aunt three times removed...or something like that. On sunny winter days, when the round quality permits, I allow it to come out of mothballs and lay it out for the little pig, and any others he invites, like bunnies and mice.

These scenes in my heart are what get me up in the morning, along with homemade bread, toasted, a fire by my mate, and the ability to somehow believe the world won't blow up in the near future and the wind and sea will somehow be here for future pigs and people.

{This original drawing now available at the shop.}

Bunnies and the gloomies

I sat in the studio looking at the painting desk, bunny at my feet. I just kept painting bunny blobs. Bunnies are pretty addictive I guess. It raised my dull mood. I was sort of blue all day and I really don't know why, so I just worked through it, walked through it as I did chores. I sort of wondered who I was. I guess as artists and people we might be swimming along and all of a sudden the thought comes into our heads,

What am I doing?

I feel like I'm making good art, have my portfolio online really up to date. I've made some nice books. And then I did the very bad thing we artists sometimes do: I compared my past accomplishments to some current successes of other artists. You know, you see a very good and nice artist getting a book deal and you go into that Self Debbie Downer conversation in your head?

It's pitiful to think that way. I snapped out of it. I began to think about:

What project do I want to work on more than anything?

And I didn't have an answer today. That can lead me to the gloomies, when I don't have a focused direction-like a new book or series of pieces. It will be okay.

But I bet a lot of you artists friends out there have the gloomies and Debbie Downer moments. It's part of it. It always passes for me, at least it always has.

Here's to bunnies.

Isabelle Noir

I like having her in the studio. Small interactions like these can keep a person joyful, even under doubt laden clouds. A bunny in the room simply makes those heavy clouds move a bit faster, or appear less doubtful. That is my experience, anyway.

Introducing...Isabelle Noir

A video posted by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm) on Dec 6, 2016 at 11:29am PST

Some of you know the story.

I was minding my own business...standing at the local animal shelter signing paper work for the three elder cats we adopted to be the first residents of the Healing Cat Cottage, and there sat in a cage...a bunny.

A jet black bunny.

"Bunny, " I said to her softly. I looked at Martyn, "Bunny, " I said to him.

That was about all it took for me to adopt her. I've always loved rabbits. I haven't had a small studio mate for sometime, not since a wonderful little chinchilla named Tucker lived me for many years. This bunny was found outside, with very long toes-many inches, curled-and her bottom was completely matted with feces. She clearly was loved at some point, as I can turn her over and trim her toes, look at her teeth and she is very docile and responds to my voice.

She is also very hard to photograph, black animals are. So she will be a real challenge.

She has a large cage where she sleeps when I am not with her, complete with toilet rolls to play with, a bit of good hay, some pellets and a daily snack of lettuce leaf, and a small bit of carrot or apple. {I have had numerous rabbit people write me, unsolicited, with their warnings and advice about over feeding-so there is no need for more dire warnings.}

I have named her Isabelle Noir.  I hope in time to take a magnificent portrait of her, sitting still on white linen, looking right into my eyes. I suspect this will prove very difficult.

For now, it is just very nice to have her hopping around while I paint. We are still getting to know each other, but she seems to really like it when I come in the room.

She is the smallest Misfit, and loved in a big way.