Day 298. She Only Wanted to Eat Scrambled Eggs

O.K., I most definitely did not paint this baby in one day.  In fact, she's been hanging around since January.  I worked on her, and left her.  You see, she's really me going through a phase where the only thing I wanted to eat was scrambled eggs.  Scrambled eggs with sriracha sauce; with shallots; with chives and truffle salt; with organic feta cheese; with extra-sharp cheddar.  Whatever, I just couldn't get enough.  The other day I tried to make scrambled eggs, and the smell of them made me feed them to the dog.  I guess I'm over that phase for awhile, but here was my tribute.

Anyway, while I'm painting and drawing a painting a day, I'm also frequently working on larger pieces as well.  I didn't touch her for so long, because I liked the way she looked and didn't want to "mess her up." However, I have a show coming up, and I had to finish this gal.  Tonight I thought, you've got to let her go--you're done.  And so she is.

 16" x 20" Acrylic, peacock feathers, beads, scrambled eggs

 The turquoise/teal background has glitter in it--can you see above?

The peacock feathers in her hair and on her sweater came from a pillbox hat that I traded a painting for at an art show.  Ebert got a hold of it and tore a small hole in it.  It was ruined for wearing, but it wasn't ruined for mixed media.

 3-D Egg

Close-up of table cloth.

Day 23. Simple wants - Hashbrowns (No Longer Available)

At times all you want from life are some hash browns--the cubed kind--with a little shredded cheese and a few drops of sriracha sauce in a little Anthropologie bowl.  When you're tired and cold...the comfort of carbs, dear ones, are what you need.

I'm a little crooked here.  I could say, the picture is askew, because potatoes will skew your weight, but omg, that's a little much!

Now for some fingerling potatoes, Irish butter, and crème fraîche.  So good!

Here's a little savory pie rampage I went on:

Bacon, cheddar, Broccoli--the entire pie and a slice

Here's a roasted acorn squash, red onion, and sage galette:

Day 8. "Cold Germs" $25

Do you know how you can feel it coming?  Hammer pounding at your forehead, tired, weak.  You don't want to believe it.  You refuse to believe.  You start popping more Airborne pills in the hopes that you can avoid it...but you begin to feel those cold germs entering your body.  You frantically make chicken soup with lots of garlic and onions and some sriracha sauce to burn it out of you.  You feel yourself in a losing battle though, as you hear your husband, who got it from work, let out huge sneeze sprays that circle the house.  I tried.  I mean, I actually used a scott towel before picking up the coffee pot.  I washed my hands when I turned open door knobs in our house.  And then...I ate an orange (vitamin C, you know) while typing on the keyboard...a keyboard he had just been using.  The prior night I had sprayed it with antiseptic spray--no fool am I--after he used it.  But this time I forgot.  And as my infected fingers came away from my lips, I could hear the shower scene music from "Psycho" play.  I feel doomed.

I mean, I want to feel sorry for him, and I do.  But...I'm starting to feel worse for myself, knowing that the stage he's in right now, with those audible gasps of "uhhhhhhhhhh" after every nose blow, will soon be me.  In desperation, I untwist the top of a bottle.  "Oh mighty Airborne, save me from this dastardly cold fate."