I've recently gotten into candle making and have found a wax that works well for the type of candles I'm making, a few classic scents like apple/cinnamon and vanilla, and some colors I like. These photos are of a torso I've sculpted with the intention of making a mold of it that I can then... Continue Reading →
I’m in my den reading, when Fleegle walks in. “Hello, Mr. Stinky Butt,” I say, using one of my many endearments for him. “My butt doesn’t stink,” he says. “I can reach around and lick it. It’s always clean.” “So that’s what that goobering sound is in the middle of the night that wakes me.”... Continue Reading →
Still unable to sleep, I listen to Fleegle snore. He sounds like a train struggling up a steep grade with a freight load of fat Labradors. I nudge him with my foot under the covers. “Straighten out your neck and maybe that freight you’re pulling won’t be so heavy.” “Is the soothing rhythm of my... Continue Reading →
Twinkles lived in the West Hills of Portland on Vista Ridge. It was a nice neighborhood in that the houses were expensive and large. Families could live in them without running into each other for days, which was good because many of the families’ members didn’t play well together. Divorce rates were high, affairs a... Continue Reading →
I’m tossing and turning in bed, struggling to get to sleep, when Fleegle asks, “Where do babies come from?” I look through the murky darkness in the bedroom at his black silhouette sitting on my bed. “The stork flies them in and delivers them to houses of families who want them.” “What’s a stork?” “A... Continue Reading →
When Arthur arrived at the cafe, the hostess seated him outside on the sidewalk patio at his favorite table right in the midst of the diners where the people watching was best. He ordered a glass of wine, not because he liked it but because he didn’t. It would last a long time and he... Continue Reading →
I am currently cleaning up the flaws and tool marks on these two Frenchie sculptures in preparation of making molds of them.
“I was getting headaches until I got the second one,” Dinty said, an earphone in each ear with wires leading to the cell phone in his shirtfront pocket. “Now all my calls come in stereo. Like a voice inside my head, right here.” He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “If it’s my boss,... Continue Reading →
Raud Kennedy 