So legends keep doing nice stuff for me and special occasions keep popping up so I keep on posting out the personalised greeting cards! Here’s the latest crop…. I hope everyone had a very merry Christmoose.
Being up to my eyeballs in a ton of creative ventures, it may take a moment for any more of them to surface here….. but trust me, they’re coming. In the meantime, here are some cards I’ve drawn for pals over the past few months to tide you over in my cyber-presence drought.
Who knew pigs were so hard to draw?
Over the last 2 years of living in the United States, I have been surprised by how often I am asked: “Do Australians celebrate Thanksgiving?”.
The enquirer usually figures it out immediately after the question leaves their lips, swiftly taking into consideration the origins of the holiday. This will generally be followed by a sheepish explanation of their mistake and a quick departure.
That’s right, the answer is no.
But if we did….
My life thus far has been a decoupage of mixed emotions and messages surrounding the common fox.
1. My mother hates them as they kill all the chickens and only eat one – necessitating her locking them in their coop every evening. She also used to go shooting foxes on farms as a young vet student.
3. My favorite Dr. Seuss book was Fox in Socks… Which resulted in my ICQ name and first email address back in the 90’s (Wow. Just wow, that I just said that) being Fox In Sox. At hotmail of course. Also, I thought, what a foxy and appealing name to the pimply braces-clad boys who might court me via the internet in the hopes of sharing a bag of Wizz Fizz at the train station after school the next day; or more desirable even, that we might both be attending the same school-organised dance (I was enrolled at an all girls school, inter-school dances were our livelihood) where I would put on an impressive display of branding, upholding my web presence as the ‘fox in sox’ by donning a pair of knee-high rainbow socks.
4. I was also a big Roald Dahl fan as a kid, and frankly, Fantastic Mr Fox carried on like a complete jerk.
5. My closest family friend has a penchant for arctic fox fur, seizing any opportunity to travel to a climate cold enough and accepting enough for her to adorn herself in her plethora of luxurious wintry garments. Mind you, she’s in the Reynard family so I imagine that had some influence.
6. My most-viewed video on the internet to date involves Banjacks and Pervis (Anna Bennet and I) purchasing fox furs from a vintage store and wearing them while we have a spitting competition in the park. It’s called Vintage Furs.
So where does that leave me? Loving them? Hating them? Killing them? Filming them? Well I’m clearly thinking about them. And in doing so, Klaus and I noticed a flaw in the English language. Check it out:
One Ox, Two Oxen.
So…. I propose
One Fox, Two Foxen.
Come get some, Oxford dictionary. Or should I say, Oxenford dictionary.
Anyway, all this fox business came up as I’ve been asked to paint a fox mural with a friend from work this weekend. We shall name it Foxen and be paid in beer. Thus inspiring the following:
So yeah. Foxen. It’s the plural. Spread the word.
Turns out French toast ain’t French.