I don't really know what Menopause and feathers have to do with each other, but that's pretty much what sums up my brain right now and therefore is blog fodder.
Also, my computer is fixed!!!!
A word to the wise:
When Apple tells you to install new RAM, they may or may not forget to tell you that the PRAM needs to be reset. Don't even ask me what a PRAM is. I don't know, nor do I care. Nope, I don't.
All though I probably should because the guys at another computer store told me I needed to replace the hard drive, then told me the processor was out and I needed a new computer.
So, maybe I do care about the PRAM.
Onward on my newly reset computer.....
I'm on a roll with birds and feathers in the art department.
My newest Pinterest board is slowly but surely gaining steam as I pin whatever I can find on birds and feathers.
Doing this also seems to calm my menopausal brain.
My first obsession was with pheasant feathers.
Done in a loose fashion here, I actually like it paired with the soft pinks. Which is unusual, as I am not a pink sorta gal.
Which makes me laugh as I look at this next picture with the large red-pink circle on this page of a practice art journal.
Then, I saw a gorgeous photo of a peacock. You know the kind of photo-it looks better than the real bird.
Aaaannnddd, I was off and running.
They would be better on that pink practice journal.
I used my Caran D'Arche crayons and thought to myself,
"Can life get any better? I'm COLORING for crying out loud."
I bet in some medical journal some doctor wrote a journal article proving that Coloring and feathers help menopause brain.
So does Wild Orange essential oil, cutting out sugar, and a husband who doesn't mind if I am "raw", but that's for another type of blog.
This blog is about coloring.
Just so I can prove I don't have dementia, I remembered an outing with my middle sister as I was coloring.
I can't remember where we were, nor can I recall what we were doing. BUT.
I can remember it involved a peacock and that my sister and the peacock had the most amazing conversation.
Somehow, my sister picked up on speaking peacock, and whenever the bird would make a noise, my sister would make some back, with lots and lots of enthusiasm and that silly bird kept responding for what seemed like an eternity.
I think we were supposed to take him home, but somehow that got lost in translation.
Either that or my mother kiboshed the idea.
She wouldn't let me keep a horse in the front yard, either.
And yes. Kibosh is a word in the dictionary.
O.K., gotta go and draw more feathers to help my brain.
Have a great weekend!
Linking to Paint Party Friday