I’ve made far too many viking hats.
Way, way too many.
And each time I decide I’m finished, there’s a family I like but they have kids and pets, and I mean it, this years crop is the last.
Last years harvest included my best friend friend Kathy, who I decided to paint. Her face is about an inch and a half. I’m a lot farther along than this close up, and I’ve removed the blue tint from her skin, but I’ve reworked and scraped her mouth half a dozen times.
By the fourth time I wanted to call her up, drop my voice into gravel tones and say, “you’ve got a sucky face,” when she answers the phone.
She knows me, she’d laugh and then I’d have to explain. If all go wells, I think I’ll surprise her but the sword needs highlights and I’m considering chain mail.
In the meantime, these pics are of family and friends – you know, all those outgoing (not me!) people.
Honestly you will not catch me in a viking hat, and I never danced around the campfire wearing pig snouts and bird beaks like the other family members.
I won’t say this distresses me but I once muttered to Dad, “I’m adopted.”
“No, Honey.” He wiggled his fingers at my sibs. “You’re mine, the rest are adopted.”
Nice try, Dad.