Digital Tablet
Carrrrumba! I have finally got a Wacom Intous 3 tablet; size A5. I haven't even begun to understand it all but I have quickly and easily reverted to being four years old again. It's like suddenly having access to every crayon, pen, paint, technique ever invented. I am in paradise. It comes with Corel Painter 2 which is not frightfully impressive but certainly has enough to keep me entertained for the moment. I'll probably stick with Photoshop Pro. Well, actually...I am just overwhelmed by it all. The tablet is easy to draw on using the special pen. In this picture (which started from a black and white photo)...oh...I have already forgotten how I added the butterflies and small fish...then I turned it into "woodcut"Coloured in with the paintbucket tool in the background and with a paintbrush on her arms and face. I mean there's like a million different brushes. Oh well, no housework for the next two years. Quentin Crisp once said you don't notice the dust after four years.
The timing in "Mysterious Habitats" is sending me mental. I am so confused by "negras", "corcheas" "cuartos" and crochets. My playing of it sounds awful so far and that's just the first three bars.
The beaches are more or less abandoned except for a bunch of Dutch and Swiss Amazons at the campsite. Campers are settling in for the winter and have placed pots of cactus and ferns outside their vans. They are amazingly houseproud and have definate boundaries marked around their spaces with breakfast tables and chairs, sattalite dishes, motor bikes and bicycles. Nobody ever says good morning but sometimes I get a sort of sideways beginning of a smile as I cycle by. I over heard two workmen talking about hookers and a bunch of Spanish Ladies (who sail along the promenade like tanks) saying "Ayyee, pobre don Pedro!" (Poor Master Pedro). I wondered what had happened to him?
The timing in "Mysterious Habitats" is sending me mental. I am so confused by "negras", "corcheas" "cuartos" and crochets. My playing of it sounds awful so far and that's just the first three bars.
The beaches are more or less abandoned except for a bunch of Dutch and Swiss Amazons at the campsite. Campers are settling in for the winter and have placed pots of cactus and ferns outside their vans. They are amazingly houseproud and have definate boundaries marked around their spaces with breakfast tables and chairs, sattalite dishes, motor bikes and bicycles. Nobody ever says good morning but sometimes I get a sort of sideways beginning of a smile as I cycle by. I over heard two workmen talking about hookers and a bunch of Spanish Ladies (who sail along the promenade like tanks) saying "Ayyee, pobre don Pedro!" (Poor Master Pedro). I wondered what had happened to him?
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