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Review: The Little Foxes
Two things struck me about the Bette Davis classic The Little Foxes. There were no foxes. I knew I had watched the movie a long time ago, and I especially remembered the staircase scene. But I was confused seeing it this time, because the staircase was way smaller and darker than I remembered. Turns out…
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Rewriting the Novel: Weirdness
When I was painting the birdbath I kept thinking, “These are the craziest colors. I am so far afield. These colors are way too bright, too exaggerated.” And then come to find out, they weren’t too strange. That’s how I am feeling about the book. What I am writing is crazy exaggerated stuff. For example,…
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Weekly Paint Progress: 7/29

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Who Am I to Criticize
I recently watched the Covid news, and of course, condemned the legions of unmasked virus-deniers who live in the southwest corner of my state. Right after that I took a hot shower, which my first neurologist told me I should never do, and then I ate a tasty lunch of sous-vide pork loin, even though…
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Cleveland Indians
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Overbought
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Olympics
I must have been partially asleep during the Olympic opening ceremonies. I “remember” these things, and yet they can’t be real: The announcer said that the Winter Olympics are in “just a few months” and I thought, “The Winter Olympics are in just a few months and no one is canceling them?” But it’s true,…
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Foot Update
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Rewriting the Novel: Slow but Steady
This week I made up pages of predictable garbage, but I did it consistently. The words were still slow. Saturday: 1 hour = 1.5 pages Sunday: 15 minutes = one sentence (Literally, this sentence: “I wondered if the stove was still on.” It means more in context: there’s been an explosion and gas is screaming…
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Weekly Paint Progress: 7/22
