When I restarted my business in the 1990s, I was eager to work and eager to do work that would build my portfolio. I was doing mostly boat portraits, transom banners, quarter boards, and that beautiful booth fee payer spoons, spatulas and cutting boards.
I entered my shop this morning to smell linseed oil, varnish, and wood shavings.
I have never been overly fond of lobster.
This is my second run at the Steam Yacht Zaida. I've used different techniques and am more satisfied with the outcome.
In some circles, I have been known as a master of the vernacular
The nature of rapid information flow is to gradually make the exotic common.
Apartments, even whole houses, are replaceable. So you can move from one city to the next with little apparent effect: the events that happened there and our reactions to them are what mattered.
he last time I saw her was in August of '75. She wore Oregon Buff and Bikini Blue, and was swinging casually at her mooring in the Townsend Gut.
It was the barest glimmer of gold. Barely a speck. I took the empty cup and dug into the coarse sand, trying to recapture that gleam.
While you are thinking tomorrow of the sacrifice in war time take a moment to think about the Merchant sailors who gave their lives to supply the war effort.