Dayonda
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102 creative works found
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PEONY- A prized flower for both its beauty and for its fragrance. A stylized, abstract peony, here. Original Art / hand drawn in Arthause Studio Xtra, sized in Photoshop Brought back Nov 2009 / [Featured in Graphic Editing Group 28 May 2008. Thank you!]
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Life just carries us along- / Unless we decide to do something about it. / Keep trying, keep creating, keep pushing the edge!
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Pond Scum?
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Each heart is different; / each the same. What I hold dear / you may despise. Yet when we meet / there is something we share.
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WOOLY, MY WOOLY Wooly, my baby; Wooly my heart, / you fill up my mind, and fill in my Art. To see is love, to hear is to purr, / And it’s good for me to stroke your blue fur. And now I see you’ve caused enough trouble / to sleep where you dropped right here on Red Bubble! / -=Dayonda / Taken with CASIO XLIM 12.1mp “Pocket” camera. (If you get one, upgrade the battery right away, and use the old one for a spare.) Wooly is a rescue baby- and he’s the live-wire in the house: He pats the other cats on their bums as they walk past, bites his girlfriend Molly’s neck, shows off for our friends… I picked him up thinking he was a little grey-flocked fuzzy “kitty bank”. He woke up instantly and began crying with his first waking breath. / He was hungry and thirsty. A later converstation with the woman who had offered him and and his brother at the yardsale where I found him was, / ”>shrug< They’re prob’ly dead now. They ain’t bothered me for awhile.” / How I wish I’d taken Wooly’s brother as well! Wooly’s about 3 years old at this “photo session”. and he had cause enough trouble to fall asleep where he dropped! On the best chair, of course! / __ / Wouldn’t you love a “REST & GET WELL” card with little Wooly to illustrate how to rest properly?
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I’m a squirrel with a glorious tail, / and I’ll tell you what I do: / When somebody parks by my fav’rite tree / I hurl down gutch and goo! / And if you try to look at me / I’ll run right up the back of the tree! / I am now, and will remain FREE, FREE, FREE! Any proceeds from the sale of this picture are pleged to the Australian Wildlife Fund to help recovery from the bush fires of 2009
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FROM THE OLD DESERT RAT: Back when I was a kid, / just the scent of the / blooming citrus / would make / you drunk. Back when I was a kid, / Palm Springs was / always moving. / Sand blew / all over. The wind blew twice a / year in Palm Springs, / six months south, / then six north. We lived with granparents, / my family and I, when I / was a kid down in / my desert. That part of my life was / what made me love / wind-whipped / palm trees. That sound meant I was / safe, loved, sleeping in / in a dresser drawer / when I was tiny. And sleeping beside my / grandmother when I / was a young girl, / I was safe. I was safe. Dayonda A fractal from the 1960s made in a nifty little program that I can’t remember the name of—If you look at it closely, it’s just a bunch of little pictures. Back off from it and you’ll see the whole picture- the palm tree. This is not my photo, it’s a clip-art item that came with one of my art programs. However, I’m the one that did the crazy-quilt optical thing with it. -=DS
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A puzzling sort of a tee / Hee hee hee! What’s at the end of the puzzle?
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Back in the mid-1980s, the Tooth Fairy lived in Idaho, and we corresponded regularly. Volunteering in a hospice with end-of-lifetime patients and their families and friends, she was a certified grief counselor, the steady hand that held the devastated up until they could stand again on their own. / There are several stages of grief, and my friend often dressed up as a magic fairy to lead her groups- she said it helped break down the walls people put up; a short, brunette, pudgy, middle aged, freckle faced lady in a shimmering, draped gown with a sparkly halo and a magic wand wasn’t very frightening, and she could often reach people through an “If you could be granted any wish. . .” approach. / As months and years of dressing in this getup passed, she became more and more comfortable in it, to the point that she once thoughtlessly scheduled a dental visit right after a Grief Counseling session. / Not thinking a thing about it she popped into the Dentist’s waiting room, signed in and sat down. It was a small, very rural town and she mostly wore her outfit to her meetings and then changed into jeans and a sweat-shirt right away, but people knew who she was. She was alone in the waiting room for some time, in her gossamer gown, her magic wand, and crown. / When her name was called and she toddled back to the inner sanctum, she found that treatment area was the one at the farthest end of the clinic, and as she started to rustle down the way behind the other patients, she noticed some rustling in the little cubicles, then the office was suddenly filled with choruses of, “Mom, Mom! LOOK! It’s the Tooth Fairy!” All the other patients were children, and a few had spotted her and given voice. / Thinking quickly, she reached into her pocket and found a tissue- and some change. So at each little treatment cubicle she stopped, gave each child a Tooth Fairy Blessing, knighted the child with her wand and gave a bit of change to each one depending upon the child’s age. With empty pockets but full heart she finally made it, glowing with pure joy, into her own treatment chair. / “I’ve never had so much fun at the dentist’s in all my life,” she told me in a letter that evening. / (R) Dayonda 09 Nov 2008 / / 576 views as 16 Dec 2009 / Drawn in Corel Painter Essentials 4, lit by Light Artist. / EXPERIMENTAL because this is the first from-scratch painting in CPE I did. / / / / Thank you very much, IMAGE WRITING!
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Hand drawn in pen and ink, then put into the computer. Often known as a donkey, in the southwestern US this guy’s a “burro”. / He’s also, and more formally, an “Abyssinian Ass”. There are burros with the Cross on the back, rumored to have been descended from the one that Christ rode on when he was welcomed with a parade by the masses, just a day before many if not all of these same people demanded his death. Not just the crossed ass is available, there are also spotted asses, giving rise to a girlfriend’s naughty-sounding invitation to see her “spotted ass”. She’d whistle, and the object of the discussion would come trotting out. See a good article on them and a great picture of both coat types here. On the shoulder of the Cross burro, you can see the arms of the Cross, but it you don’t know to look for it, it just looks like an odd shadow. In the pics of these little asses, you can also see that the burro is fairly small, and an average-size man riding a burrow almost has his heels dragging on the ground. They’re still an ideal animal for pack trains and for riding in country that doesn’t have regular roads or fuel stations on the way to a destination. Burros in history were ridden by such of the lower classes who could afford them, and it was a crime to ride a horse unless you were of royal blood. They were used by most people as pack animals. Each burro is a Workers’ Union of one, refusing to work when they don’t want to work. The burro will simply stage a literal sit down strike when he or she feels like it. The same burro may be seen later carrying half a dozen children, or two skinny adults, or a miner’s outfit for 6 months at a time, so that there’s nothing to see of the burro but his tail and ears. I actually learned to ride horseback on a burro jenny, a jack is the male, named Peggy. Burros are useful dead or alive. Boots were made from their hide, and I’m afraid they’re also delicious (yes, I’ve eaten burro often); long before there were any hunting laws protecting them in the Desert Southwest US, where they’re actually a nuisance like rose eating urban deer, one good burro would fill the freezer and feed a family for a long time. The burro is well-known for its voice, my father used to sing an ode to the burro at odd times: Sweetly Sings the Donkey At The Break of Day; Someone must go with him or he’ll run away! [Chorus] Eeeee Awwww, Eeeee, Awwww, Eeeee, Awwww in the most startling, grating manner in the known universe. Sure-footed and reliable, these ‘biscuit snatchers’ and ‘blanket eaters’ as they’ve been called in roundup camps, where they actually were tied to beeves intended for market that could not be handled otherwise. / Tied to the most unmaneagable steer bull, the burro would simply wear the steer down using its stubborn streak, and when leadership was determined to belong to the ass, the two of them would head on back to the roundup area. / / The cowboys made sure their blankets were rolled and stashed where the burros couldn’t get at them. Good bandits, the highly intelligent animals have long been known for their ability to pick locks or find other types of ingress way to get in. Biscuits for the day were usually made in the morning. If they weren’t put up in a burro proof area, there would be no biscuits for the remainder of the day. A dish of beans with no biscuits for lunch and dinner wasn’t very appealing. Nobody left anything out on the clothesline, either, because the clothes would most often be eaten before they were dry. Often bred to horses, which are much larger than burros, their sterile breed or produce offspring, offspring are mules, which have all the same wonderful traits of their burro parent, but they’re bigger, tougher, and sought-after for racing, packing, and general range riding. I have seen a series of photos of a mule swinging a cougar by the tail until the cat was so disoriented that the mule could kill it. If anybody knows who took the mule vs cougar pics, I’d like to let her know that these have been passed on the Web from person to person, that the pictures are amazing, and that I hope it’s not copyrighted work! / Dayonda
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This must be the original. I found the original folder. It was taken on a very bright summer day when the shadows were very bold. note: 01 Sep 2009 / ______ A gear that drives the right track on an ancient front-end loader. Captured with CASIO 12.1Mp pocket camera Going to an early dinner at the Country Cousin Restaurant in Centralia WA, US, I spotted two old work horses that I hadn’t really paid attention to before. If you just can’t see it I “stood the tractor on its side” for the tee. / Also available in picture form. This tee is pledged to the Wildlife Renewal Appeal re: Australia’s bush fires. / Dayonda 22:34 2/20/2009 US Pacific Time
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As with any of my coloring-in book pictures you my download it and color it in. It is still my copyright, however, so please don’t publish it as yours. I hope you enjoy coloring it; I have done so on this owl several times with several different colors. You might notice on the left and right middle-sides there’s a night blooming flower. / Enjoy: / Dayonda / Maka1967 colored these guys in and got them FEATURED in COLLABORAL DAMAGE / Thank you Maka1967! / What’s most wonderful to me about it is that Maka and I are on opposite sides of the world—he’s in China, and I’m in the US. The Internet lets us collaborate internationally. What a fantastic tool it is! / P.S.: / Here’s a trick I learned as a kid: Follow the directions at your own risk, and never turn away from kids doing this. / Buy the Owl on a white or very light colored shirt. Color in the blank spaces with regular Crayola type wax crayons. When finished, place several paper towels inside the shirt, under the colored area, and, if you have any, use waxed paper under your iron on a low setting to melt the color into your tee. If no waxed paper, use more paper towels and don’t “skate” the iron, but place it, hold it for 1, 2, 3 seconds, and move to another section. Replace the paper towels and press again two or three times. Rinse carefully in cold water, then “pickle” with cold water, salt and vinegar overnight or so to “set” the dye. Wash it separately, on cold, and hang it to dry. Never trust it with your other whites, nor in the dryer. You’ve now made an alternate style batik where the wax carries the color instead of blocking the color. Good luck, and listen carefully: I’m not responsible if you muck it up! I’m just telling you what I used to do as a kid. -=DS
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I had to pick the stubborn little thing up, which only fueled her fire. She’s very aware of her superior position in the house, and she owns Daddy. Sometimes life doesn’t go the way you want it to, even if you’re a spoiled-rotten cat! The Rolling Stones put out the song YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT. . . STONES. / Or from the original vinyl Rescued: Molly went from being a starving little mother-to-be on the street to having her own house, bed (once ours), and her very own daddy (she thinks). While she likes me somewhat too, she’s daddy’s girl. / She didn’t want to move off Daddy’s feet, so I had to help. I might add, but it’s obvious, that she’s gotten a bit plump since she moved in here. Any Tabby with brown hair behind its ears is a brown tabby. On this bedspread, the brown in her coat really stands out! Normally she looks kind of raccoony grey. CAMERA: CASIO EXILIM 12.1 MP / Zoom: extended to visual zoon, not electronic / Lighting: Indoor, incandescent / Setting: Sports
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It’s not plum blossom time yet here, but here’s a (fractal) painting of an interesting old blooming plum tree. / Any proceeds from this picture are donated to the Australian wildlife Fund for bush fire recovery. (The Ancient Plum Tree) [Usually blossoming before the last snow has disappeared, the Japanese plum tree heralds spring. While its dark, jagged trunk and branches symbolize old age, its pale blossoms represent purity. © 1999 Benoît Schütz]
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A young bird molting baby feathers and putting on a grown-up suit. Any profits made from the sale of this picture is pledged to the relief of wildlife resulting from the terrible bushfires of 2009 in Australia. Olympus E500, I don’t remember which lens or settings as I didn’t write them down, and have lost the records, as far as I know. ~ I’m not this depressed, but I love this whole Psalm ~ / “THE BOOK OF PSALMS—PSALM 102 * / A prayer of the afflicted; Zion shall be built up when the Lord appears in his glory. Though heaven and earth perish, the Lord who created them shall endure forever. / A PRAYER OF THE AFFLICTED, WHEN HE IS OVERWHELMED, AND POURETH OUT HIS COMPLAINT BEFORE THE LORD. / 1 Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come unto thee. / 2 Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble; incline thine ear unto me: in the day when I call answer me speedily. / 3 For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth. / 4 My heart is smitten, and withered like grass; so that I forget to eat my bread. / 5 By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin. / 6 I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the desert. / 7 *I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top. / 8 Mine enemies reproach me all the day; and they that are mad against me are sworn against me.
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Any profits from the sale of this picture or tee shirt are dedicated to the the Australian wildlife relief fund, dating from the terrible fires in Victoria. The crow is perching on my large birdbath, peering in my window, demanding goodies from us, inside. / This guy spent the summer of 08 bothering the outside cats, chasing the squirrel around and around its own tree, trying to sneak up on the neighbor’s dogs when they slept, and generally caused riot and ruin in our quiet, country neighborhood. To the crow’s credit, it didn’t start this nonsense until its two children were fairly self-sufficient. / In September, just before the noisy crow rookery mob move south and our winter sets in, the mama of this pair made her two children take complete baths, one at a time, in our large birdbath, making sure each ducked its head all the way under, and that it rocked sideways on its belly in the water so its wing-pits were washed. Papa had to help with the second youngster, who did not want to duck its head. He had it fly down to him, talked with it quietly a minute, and then it went back and bathed properly. The next day the chidren, though still showing some baby-yellow at the corners of their beaks, left on the flight south with everybody else. Then it became too quiet, the squirrel collected nuts without being disturbed, and I missed the crows terribly. / CROWS ARE: / Country folk, devoted parents, mischief-makers, cat chasers, bread-snatchers, dogs’ eyelash pullers, and when you listen to them, you realize that crows actually sound like ducks. /
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See the wall art comments to see what a character this guy is. I missed his family and rookery when they went South last Fall because they were so entertaining! It’s all there, what this rotten bird did to entertain himself and us last summer! / / Any profits from the sale of this tee shirt, or its companion wall art is donated to the relief of Australia’s wildlife devestated by the bush fires of Victioria, 2009
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Tucker tucks into the grub on a windy day. This is the man of the house. He and his Mrs. had 6 strapping youngsters, and it was great fun to watch them play on the tree and under it. Captured with Olympus E-500, (All settings Auto: Lazy me), with Olympus 140-600 lens @ 600. Photographed through my back window.
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Loosely, VERY LOOSELY patterened on a photo by PMarella. / The photo is exquisite!
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Older cousins cuddle with and look after younger ones outside the well-house out here. One stray cat, now “Peanut Butter Sweet” successfully raised one calico daughter. Then before we even realized they were “plural”, Peanut had a lovely litter of tabbies, and a month later, her daughter presented us with a show-case litter of 3 patched calicos, one orange male (Barnie) and 3 little tuxedo children. All wild as hyenas. They’re taming up by watching Peanut obviously enjoy being petted and talked to. Tonight I fed most of the cousins by hand and said each one’s name as I handed him / her a bite. But my vet bill is going to be as big as a mortgage! / The is an outfit here that will pay half for me, and most local vets will take payments. So my main joy is in taming them and spending time with them. / 50 THINGS: Almost 50 paws in the pile… (48 paws.) Over 50 whiskers, though! / COMPACT CAMERA: CASIO, EXILIM 7.2 mp / CONTRASTING PERCEPTIONS: Orange baby stands out! / RESCUE: Well, their mom / grandma is a rescue… does that count for the children we’re saving and keeping, do you think? / >No more ‘ciao; it’s now “miao”< / Dayonda
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Kaleidoscope / 20 Sep 2009
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Wooly’s eyes are green, and his coat is blue-grey. But he’s so shiny, that irridescence shows a multiplicty of colors in close-up. This is lit naturally; he’s between the east and the west window. / Camera: CASIO Exilim 12.1 mp / Rescued Wooly: He was in a ‘yard sale’ next door, very hungry, and there was no price on him because he had no value to his current owners. A tiny kitten then, I should have taken his brother, too, because a month later when I saw them again and asked about the other one, they shrugged, “Guess it’s dead,” was what they had to say about him.
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Happy colors and lights for the December Holiday that we can no longer call “Christmas”. . . in civic displays and school, at least. Disgusting laws, to me. / For a Challenge in A KALEIDOSCOPIC KRAZE. / For 50 THINGS: Counting rings and lights and baubles, it must count up to at least 50. Don’t you think??? Anyone may make this up as a crochet project if you pass the instructions on for free, and to me! Wouldn’t it make great placemats?
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A kaleidoscope shows colors, not always ones you expect to see! This one surprised me completely! / Made in Pattern Pie by Well Crafted Software, / Sized in Photo Filtre 6.2.7 because Pattern Pie has to be resized after it has made Kaleidoscopes. / It’s least expensive way to go that I’ve found. / And it’s soooooo much fun! / See our work at A Krazy Kaleidoscope ! / TILE- wouldn’t it make a lovely one?
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