Thursday, February 28, 2013

near rothko chapel

photo: jetheriot

i dreamed . . .

. . . it was September in Catahoula. Luke was in the sugar cane fields photographing a large sycamore. He’d positioned a tall stool, nearly half as tall as the sycamore, in the shade of the tree, and I saw him at a distance, a tiny figure climbing up and down the stool, trying to get the perfect shot.

project houndstooth

photo: jetheriot

Day 7 of the painting project in Weimar, Texas. I added faux frames around the door and the window. One more day, and we should be able to finish the painting.

under the roux-flower tree

jetheriot

app reminder



This is how the daily reminder will appear on the Peaceful Habits app. Rather than writing a reminder phrase that tried to nag the user into using the app, I thought it would be more helpful to write the reminder as a gentle distillation of the app's purpose.

i dreamed . . .

. . . I swept cheese crumbs off of a granite countertop into my cupped hand. I said, "Bill, you go to church quite a bit, right?"

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

sycamore

photo: jetheriot

Monday, February 25, 2013

good fortune

photo: jetheriot


Wonton Food Corporation is about seven blocks away from where we live in Midtown. When I ride my bike to Montrose I go right past it. I don't know what else they make in that warehouse, but they sure do bake a lot of fortune cookies. The smell of egg and vanilla is always thick in the air around that block. Yesterday was so breezy I could smell fortune cookies as soon as I walked out our front gate, seven blocks away from where they were being baked. I took it as a good omen.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

the deception


The black-and-white commercial opens with a cartoon housewife hanging her laundry drearily on a clothesline. A Grinch-like voice-over sings.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

peaceful habits board book

mr. & mrs. grackle

photo: jetheriot

i dreamed . . .


. . . I discovered a large insect nest stuck to the lowest branch of an oak tree in the back yard. The nest, a hollowed-out growth of the oak tree itself, was large enough for me to poke my head in it.