Back in the early '90's I decided to take a couple of night classes at the University of New Orleans, so I chose two that I pretty much knew I was going to do well in. No sense going back to school and being the class dunce when you're old enough to be everyone's mother. So I took a Creative Writing class and a class called Drawing On the Right Side of Your Brain, which is really for people who have been told all their life that future scientists and brain surgeons really don't have to be concerned that they can't even draw stick figures. I've always been more of a right brain person--the intuitive, artistic, pretty much space cadet side. Left brainers, on the other hand, are rational, clear-thinking, by-the-numbers kind of people who are good in math and science and sucked at fingerpainting in pre-school. Then Betty Edwards came up with this interesting theory and convinced all the left brainers that they really COULD fingerpaint with the best of the right brainers. Here's a link to the Drawing On the Right Side of Your Brain website, if you're interested.
This was one of the first things we did and I was so proud when the teacher pinned my drawing on the wall as an "excellent effort" by a left brainer. Little did she know that I had sneaked in under false pretences and was actually a wacko rightie.
This guy is supposed to a Renaissance courtier or something, but without the hat, he REALLY looks like a guy you'd see dancing like a maniac with his shirt off at Parade disco on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Awhile back, Shara of Monkeybox wrote about a bad painting she'd seen for sale at a truck stop, and I told her about the bad painting I bought at an estate sale where the recently deceased lady of the house fancied herself an "artiste". Her oil paintings and sketches were all over the place, and of course NO ONE was buying any of them because all her subjects basically looked the same. And even though the South is famous for inbreeding and all that, I don't think that was what she was depicting. When I saw this painting, I started laughing and said to the estate sale lady, "My gosh, that looks totally like an 'after' painting of a woman who had a major sex change!" and then of course felt horrible when I was informed it was really a painting of the recently deceased lady's beloved also deceased husband.
So I paid way too much for this and it's been hanging in my hallway ever since. When anyone asks who it is, I just tell them it's
Chaz Bono and so far there's only been one person who has pointed out that (1) Chaz is blond and (2) he's a tad chubbier in real life.
The rabble has spoken, and it is indeed SONNY Bono. Who has probably been madly flipping over in his grave ever since his daughter became his son.