Monday, January 28, 2008

Pink Artist offering, part 4...


Fourth square for the Pink Artist project, I don't think this one needs much explanation. The face/head is a vintage bumpy glass foil back cab.

I'm having so much fun with these!

5 comments:

Hélène H said...

Oh, Grace, it shows ! These are all so lovely and fresh ! They're like little fountains of joy.

girl_gone_thread_wild said...

Blessings. Beauty. Bold. Bosoms. Blossom. Bravery. Brilliance. Genius.

You are really making it tough on me to choose ONE for the doll... but I've got to say the wall hanging will be just as thrilling once finished thanks to you artists who are going above & beyond the calling.

Ahh. Someone pinch me.. i'm going to faint again.

LOL

lots of love... Monica

Phyl said...

I love these colors together; and am partial to sequins/beads together.
You're driving MM crazy!
I'd better get my ass in gear and start beading!

freebird said...

These are just sooo nice. Each and every one of them.

Grace said...

Hi all and THANKS. Helene... "little fountains of joy", I love that!

Monica - I know I've said it a million times, but I'll say it again... I can HARDLY wait to see what you do with them all!

Phyl - thanks and yes, me too on the sequins and beads together.

Freebird - thanks so much

Leaves of Grass

This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body - Walt Whitman