B & W Sunday

In this case, Silly Sunday.

Miro is 4 today!

Airecraft Carries Me Home-Miró--- was hatched born in Ohio four years ago today. Since then, he has not distinguished himself with any titles or letters after his name but has developed as a practicing installation artist. Although I think of his birthday as the day I brought him home in March, which also happens to be my birthday, extra celebrations never hurt.

 Practicing the Eeyore look at 8 weeks.

Rehearsing the role of Ferdinand, the little bull who doesn't want to fight but wants to sit beside a cork tree, smelling the flowers.

Crime and Punishment, a huge tome with which every puppy is familiar.

The artist rests after an early installation, age 6 months. (He's not really resting; he's working on growing his legs even longer.)

And now he has achieved all the mature dignity to be expected of an Airedale.

Through a window

 A frosty dessert for Alanis.

 Checking on the kitchen.

 Wait right there! Is that food in your hand?

Blegh. Just a sponge.

Bazooka's New Year resolution

Being smaller, Edna has a harder time keeping warm.

Though the days are still short and we're freezing our feet, dancing from one to the other, and the  "water feature" is frozen solid,

 Bazooka decided to start laying eggs not long after New Year's Day.

I think I gave her the right name.

Just enough snow to be a bother

After much excited chatter and spreading of exaggerated rumors about the impending event, like a gossip-fest about a political scandal, it snowed on Thursday morning. The snow quickly turned to glop on the streets and a crust of ice everywhere else, where it remains. That's bad snow, enough to be a bother but not enough to justify making  chocolate chip cookies. For the past couple of mornings I've worn my hiking boots for traction when out walking Miro but have still curtailed the walks; it's too slippery.

Concentrating on a new installation, Miro has made good use of his increased indoor time. The medium he chose this time was a very thick cardboard cylinder from a box of Costco plastic wrap. These cylinders are many times thicker than the cardboard cores of toilet paper or paper towels, offering more scope for his skills.

Appropriately enough, he's calling it Snow Days.

He tends to lie on his work rather than stand back and let the viewer immerse herself in the experience of Torn Art, a movement representing the visceral impulses from which all great art springs.

Notice the winter-themed touches of color he has added with the chew bone and other items, representing perhaps the hopeful signs of life to be found beneath the snow. The vacuum cleaner visible in the upper right corner reminds us that snow, winter, and cardboard bits eventually pass away.

 Here Miro himself becomes an objet d'art, framed within elements of his arrangement.

Alanis checked out the work.

 Not all critics appreciate the artist's work. It was always thus.