If paintings could talk…well, in this case they couldn’t because haven’t we and a bizarre scandinavian song that took the Portlandia type world by storm that we don’t know what foxes say? So she says nothing. But I say that this foxy lady started as a dog. The dog kind of dog that could be any variety, the New Yorker cover kind of dog where they are dog shaped and I held it up, feeling sassy and fun, showing my painting buddy and she says, “Oh I love it, what a cute cat!” Wrong answer. So I pouted and futzed and the more paint I added the more creature it became until suddenly, all on her own, she was Foxy Lady, and I swear I only showed up and watched it happen. Once I was invited, of course, she did need riding boots and a ribbon ascot. I am in charge of showing up, the zookeeper, how the animals behave, is anyone’s guess. xo
“Foxy Lady”, 11×17″ framed, available at ElizabethW, Carmel-by-the-Sea, 831.626.3892