watercolor and gouache on paper, 7.4" x 11.25"
From the dusty vaults...
This was painted in the Adirondacks, sometime around Summer '01, I think.
Frogs apparently make good models. People will pose, but they're always, like, "I have to go check the roast," or "I have to run out at quarter-of," or "Are you done with my nose? Can I move yet?" Frogs don't do none o' that.
After an hour, this handsome fellow still hadn't budged. No complaining about stiff joints or anything of the like. If he had an amphibian picnic to attend that afternoon, he gave indication of no such pressing engagement.
It could just be that he was a jerk, that the other frogs and newts never invited him anywhere. I'm not ruling that out, and as I've always gotten on pretty well with difficult social types I'm not sure I would have noticed. Still, he posed like a champ, and I'm posting this as a tribute to his princely virtues and resilience. I dearly hope he went on to live a long life and father thousands of patient, virtuous children.
4 comments:
Lovely stuff, Adam. So lovely that I can only half-enjoy it, what with the burning jealousy, and all.
So nice that I have a new stop on my morning blog tour! Be sure to post lots. Like, hourly.
I think the frog was dead.
Thanks Joel.
And yes, I too wondered if the frog had indeed kicked it, so I poked him.
He promptly gave me the finger.
I love the images, but the writing is just great. Yup. Great. I should visit here more often. A delight.
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